#only one of em has a similar body shape

[thestalkerbunny]

I'm not caught up on kitsune lore, actually.

You have come to the right place, my friend.

All I think about is weird fox based lore.

We'll cover the 3 big ones of Japan, Korea and China.

THE FOX BREAK DOWN.

WHY THE FOX?

The fox in many cultures-in this case countries residing in the Eastern areas of the world-have been symbols of mystery, trickery, transformation and deception. This may account to the fact a fox is naturally a very fast and intelligent animal, that is rather nocturnal and has a way to always evade danger that it finds itself in. They're problem solvers. They also scream like women in distress. Or when they're happy-they scream like cars trying to rev up.

THE KITSUNE: Japanese messanger of the gods and local nuisence

The most popular of foxes in media, art and story, the Kitsune story comes from Japan. It has been the subject of movies, games, animes, mangas and even folk tales for generation. To put it simply, a Kitsune is a fox that possesses paranormal abilities. People already believed that foxes were supernatural in general-but with time and age, they'd grow smarter and wiser. A kitsune grows a new tail for every 100 years it lives-with those that have 9 tails being very powerful and with 10 tails earned, will ascend into GODHOOD.

-sound familiar to someone you might know?-

Kitsune and humans have always lived together and gotten along mostly. Fox Urine actually repels rats-so stones soaked in the urine of foxes would be placed near fields; which most likely led to people finding foxes sacred and becoming a symbol of the Japanese Deity, Inari Okami-the God of agriculture-and eventually being regarded as their messengers.

Kitsunes had the ability to shape shift-often doing so into beautiful women (and sometimes men depending on the story) and getting themselves married, but usually getting run off by their spouses' dogs (which they are afraid of) They also have a tendency to reveal themselves when they get drunk or are careless as the tails are the one part of themselves they can't hide properly (which is tricky if you got 9 of 'em.) Beautiful women with certain face structures and high cheek bones are often called 'fox faced'

Kitsune can be good or evil-some of the more wicked ones going out of their way to possesse humans and have to be exorcised to free them.

THE KUMHIO: Korea's nightmare manic pixie dream girl

The Kumhio is my personal favorite-hailing from Korean, the Kumhio (or Gumhio depending on spelling variation) is a fox similar to the Kitsune in many aspects. It's a very long lived 9 tail fox, it has supernatural powers of illusion, shapeshifting and magic. But the Kumhio is different in it's behavior. The Kumhio's favorite meal-unlike the tofu loving Kitsunes-is human livers. And they go about acquiring it in a very interesting way. They will become women (or men) and manage to get hitched up to whoever is most convenient and begin to systematically prey on everyone in the household. First the animals, then the servants, the family, and often times leaving the spouse for last. They are also known to dig up fresh graves to get the livers. They also sport something similar to the kitsune that was not mentioned-a Bead they keep inside their bodies that they can cough up. This is called a Fox Bead. Putting this bead in your mouth can give you IMMENSE knowledge of the sky land and seas. Often times this is only shared by the Kuhio via a sort of 'deep kiss' where it puts the ball in your mouth and then takes it back with it's long unnatural tongue. But most cases have been people trying to steal it/accidently swallowing it. Although humans are a Kumhio's prey-if a Kumhio abstains from killing and consuming a human for 1000 days, it too will become mortal and then can enjoy all mortal perks (getting married, sharing a life span with someone, not being a literal monster) They are sometimes in mythology (depending on who you ask and which variation of the story you read) regarded as a lesser creature, but still very very dangerous. I wouldn't wanna fuck around and find out with one of these puppies.

FAVORITE PIECE OF MEDIA INVOLVING A KUMHIO:

Laon, it's a great horror read, kinda short, but still great. I love it unironically.

THE HULI-JING: Your friendly neighborhood fox ghost

The Huli-Jing is another Fox Spirit, this time from China. Much like Japan, it has the same properties as the Kitsune; Supernaturally weird, crazy long lived, can become god, people tend to like them. Until they do fucked up stuff. One case had a huli-jing posesses an important woman in power and she and her husband while posessed basically started torturing and murdering people and starting a massive revolt against their dynasty. Unlike Kumhios who suck life essence from the mouth (and eat your liver) The Huli-Jing will go the Succubus route and.....steal semen. That's right, the foxes are turning into hot hot women and are stealing your life force via your jizz boys, keep it in your pants. But despite that, many villages in history love the Fox Spirit-a saying going as far as villages shouldn't be established without a fox spirit milling about. They're seemingly friendly provided you pay them the right respects. Many people would have in home shrined dedicated to them to make offerings right there.

TLDR: Foxes are fuckin' spooky, turnin into women, stealin' your semen, your liver and making your goddamn rice grow. fuckin' foxes doin' FOX SHIT.

#TSB ask #Foxes #Fox #Kumhio #Kitsune #Huli-Jing #Mythology #monsters

[granolawriting]

A change in fate ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

pairing: no breakout!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Your toxic ex kicks you out of your place without another word. Only hiring a mover to get your stuff somewhere else. And when Joel finds you in a state of disarray, and stays indifferent, you butt heads until it comes to a head when your paths cross again after that night. That time, much more complicated.

Content warning: age gap, you're 21 and Joel is mid 30s to early 40s. Enemies to lovers.

word count: 4k

A/N: this is the first of a two-part series inspired by an old movie I grew up with. If you can recognize it, I'll like, give you a really big treat. no nsfw this chapter, but the next one will. And as always, let me know if you like my work or if you have any suggestions for anything else I could write :)

Part 2 out now!!: to make you forget

“NO. No. No no no no no no no NO!!!” 

Your fist hits solid wood once more. Every slam that pounds upon its impenetrable front leaves a mark on your hand in the shape of bruises and soreness-- you try the door once more. It's locked, as it had been the last ten times you attempted to open it. Desperation laced in the fruitless fervor that played its sound of metal clanking on metal as the knob refused to turn. 

The thump on the ground follows a fall of your knees. Defeated, hopeless, in a dress that isn't even yours. Tears stream from your face in such passion you can't even feel them anymore as more of you is wet than it is dry. You imagine you look a mess, hair disheveled as you held it as you screamed at him-- makeup once beautiful and elegant streams down and across your face in the motion your hands chose to wipe away your tears. 

A screeching of tires followed by the shutting of a door is what knocks you out of this pathetic display. A man walks over to you and begins to pick up the boxes right beside you, carrying them to the back of his truck that has the title “MOVERS” painted on its side. You clamor to your feet, disorientation doesn't help the heels strapped to your feet as you chase after him;

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going with those? Who the hell are you?”

Rancor coats your tongue as your anger spits out onto him, He stands in the middle of an empty parking lot with only the light emanating from houses and lamps decorating the street are you able to take him in. 

He was tall, perhaps 6ft, an older man. Salt and pepper hair covered just above his forehead and a stern face was complimented by equally gruff facial hair of similar color, and a frown that seemed natural for him. He wore an old jacket-- probably made in the same year you were born with plaid linings on its inside to support a Carhartt branded outside. All the clothes upon his body seemed worn, from the stained jeans and a belt fitted so many times it might as well have been made for the exact curve of his body, to the heavy worker's boots with every scratch telling a story beyond your years. He looks at you. Up and down his eyes register curiously the woman that stood before him. He scoffs, and with a low Texan drawl he replies in kind; 

“Well princess, looks here like someone was kind enough to get yourself a mover for all them boxes outside the house. ‘Supose you know where i'm to drop em off?” 

“They can stay right here.” 

It comes out of you not in a literal sense, but you guess a plea of desperation. You can't imagine that this is actually happening. You can't just leave. After all the years you spent with him, all the hours you poured into his care and the best he can do is call up some old guy to take your shit somewhere else? 

“Now you know I can't do that. I ain't come all the way down here just for’ nothin. Now, I was hired to move, least you can let me do is my job.” 

His palms outstretched to you as he finishes putting the first box in the back of his truck, looking to you with little care for what you’re properly going through, moreso just a plea to let him go home sometime before 1 in the morning. 

your breath grows uneven again, you feel something build up in you again as you just refuse to accept this. Turning your back to him, you storm over to another box untouched by him and kick it, screaming and crying and truly just making a mess of yourself as you collapse once again on the curb of the sidewalk. Folding your arms across your knees, and with a head buried deep in your chest you sit there for a moment as you listen to the crunch of his boots against the loose gravel along the pavement trail back and forth past you as each box is stored into the vehicle. 

“Still haven't given me an address. Or were ya’ thinkin' of just sitting here and lettin' me take yer’ things?” 

Irritation follows his tone as he becomes increasingly impatient about your behavior. 

“I don't have anywhere to go.” 

“Surely you got someplace. Now get a move on, I'm bout damn tired of all this.” 

He drags you up by your upper arms, feeling his calloused hands hold onto the smoothness of your body as he lifts you to your feet. Shocked though, you push him away from you in haste;

“I can get up by myself. Thank you very much.”

You dust yourself off for just a moment before continuing, he looks at you with impatience.

“And I need a ride.” 

He stammers a bit as he begins to speak, 

“A- fucking,? Damn. alright then. Just get the hell on alright? Sure you wouldn't want em’ having to pay me extra.” 

He walks back to his truck as you follow, The two footsteps upon the concrete road are all that can be heard in the neighborhood as your pain slowly wells into your chest, and the outbursts cease. 

------------------------------------

“Now, listen here. We've been drivin' for damn near an hour now, and ain't nothing come of it. Where the hell am I takin you? Or I'm about to leave ya on the side of the damn road. I've got a kid at home.” 

“Just take me to the other side of town.”

“Are you fuckin kidding me? Now, I don't know what you've got goin on and I truly, don't want to. But you're real damn selfish ya know that? Makin me drive all over town like this like I'm some goddamn taxi. This place best got some money to pay me for.” 

His voice is deep, gruff, and when laced with the anger of a despondent woman who seems as if she has all the time in the world he's not keen to hold back judgment anymore. His hand grips the steering wheel firmly and doesn't look at you for a moment as he speaks to you. 

You're taken aback, to say the least. After the pain you've felt, the torment you've faced the only thing to greet you is the unwanted mouth of some old man who doesn't know what he's talking about.

“I'm selfish? You don't know the night I've had. How can you call me selfish? You were hired for a reason so why don't you just do your fucking job okay? As long as you’re getting paid it shouldn't matter a damn to you.” 

You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms in his passenger seat, watching him with disdain as he grips the wheel and drives relatively carelessly through the empty streets just to get you out. 

After a few minutes more, and by a few you mean around 30, you find yourself in front of a home you’d never think to see again truthfully. As you take in the sight of it, a simple house facing an otherwise unimpactful street, but you held memories of all your years within the confines of these blocks. You were home, after so many years away. 

“Get out.” 

He says bluntly. The clock shines a bright 1:47 on its dash, signifying that you definitely didn't meet his “before 1” pleas. But damn, could he have been any nicer about it? 

You watch as he hops out of the car himself, to the sound of a hard opening of the back that held all your belongings. And as you made your way ever so slowly out of his truck, trying to not fall as the step was coated in the darkness of the night that was no longer politely illuminated by street lights. As you made your way to the concrete below you, rounding his truck was he almost done putting your stuff back out, only on a different curb this time. And without a second to spare, he gets back into his truck, and leaves. Not a word said to you, not even an exchange.

What an asshole. 

-------------------------------------------

“So you’re telling me, that the man you were with for how many years, kicked you out for what?” 

The voice of your childhood friend rang once more through the old walls of the house, in the kitchen where you two sat. this was her family home, one that she now inherited, and one that after many years of silence on your part, she gladly opened up to you as well. 

“We were together almost 3 years. And he just, found another girl I guess. But she was in my closet, filled with her clothes. It's as if he’d moved me out overnight. He didn't have a word to say to me, it's like I never even mattered to him. But I've told you this time and time again, what more can I even do at this point?” 

She repositions herself with her legs crossing over one another as she looks for a response, taking a sip of coffee before having it dawn on her. 

“Today. 3 pm. Uncles holding a barbeque. You remember my uncle right? Everyone will be there. Maybe we could find you a good little rebound to bring you down to earth.” 

“Are you- a rebound? Seriously? Is that all you can think of right now?” 

“Listen. The only thing you can do with a broken heart is fix it. And that doesn't happen in a day. Least you can do is get something tasty to chase the pain with. Like hot old guys. You’re only 21! This is the prime time to do whatever you want.” 

You think for a second. Letting this wash over you as you try and figure out the next thing to do. Do you really doll yourself up after the most traumatic evening of your life is not even 24 hours in your past, just to eye all of your friends older relatives, and family friends that you’ve been ogling at since you were 16? 

I mean fuck it, what else are you going to do. 

Following your friend up the stairs, she lets out an excited giggle at the prospect of having you back after so many years. There's so many things to tell, different people to see, and subsequently laugh at, but the best of all her skills with a brush have gotten much better since the last time she helped you look good. Much better, apparently for as you looked at yourself in the mirror you could barely recognize the woman looking back at you-- let alone any trace of the girl sat in a torn dress the night before screaming outside her ex’s house. 

You put on a pretty yellow dress, adorned with flowers It's hemmed all properly frilled to some level, and the flow of the skirt portion barely getting over your back end does the top also treat you well; a low neck cup to shape your chest perfectly as the daintiness of your outfit, paired with little yellow heels, made you look properly irresistible. 

-----------------------------------

“Guess whos backkk!!!”

The excited shrills of your friend beside you make everyone who'd arrived at the party thus far to crane their heads back to look, all of which subsequently smiled with shock as they looked upon you. None of them had seen you since you were 17, about 18 years old. That's when you left, the moment you could. Looking back you missed all of this so much, the community, the story told in every face that looked upon you. But all is lost now and the most you can do is make the best out of the time you have right now-- and as it stands you’re at the center of it all. 

They approach you by the droves, asking every question they can that have undoubtedly had rumored answers to in your absence; detailing from where you've been, what you’re doing, where you go to school, where you work, and most hurtful-- how your ex was doing. You briefly told them all that you and him had since parted, and that you were just getting back on track, spending some time at your friend's house in the meantime. They all looked upon you in sympathy, but as more people entered the party the more they dispersed to greet other guests. 

“Oh my god, is that who I think it is?” 

A low, familiar tone enters the backyard where you stand, and turning around to face you is your friend's father. Who, for most of your life was like a father to you as well. He opens his arms and you follow suit, embracing him in what feels like a much-needed hug, before setting you down again to continue talking to you. 

“Oh, honey if, if I'd known you were coming I'd have brought you something. How long has it been since I last saw you? God, you seem so grown up now. It's like I barely even know you.” 

His head moves to look behind him for a second, and soon he ushers someone forward to join in the conversation. 

“Ah, there's something I'd love for you to meet. This is a good friend of mine, Joel. I haven't had him around any of these much, he just moved back here from Texas a couple weeks back. But he's someone I've known my whole life. Kinda like you and my daughter in a way!” 

Though as the man who emerged behind him reared his head, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was him, of course, it was him. That asshole that drove you home like you were the greatest burden he's ever had to carry. 

“Yer fuckin kidding me.” 

He looks at you in shock. Nothing more. However, you see that to his side is a young girl, no older than 12 who seems to be in awe over you. Her hair was tucked into each side of her face to illuminate it in a crown of curls that came to her shoulder and stretched all the way to her ears in volume. She wore a small shark tooth necklace, and some form of singer on her shirt that you didn't recognize.

He-, Joel, looks down at her; 

“Sarah how bout you go say hi to your friends for me. I'm gonna be busy a moment” 

She runs off, and your friend's dad begins to speak again. 

“Do you, know each other from somewhere? I can't imagine you do.” 

“She's that insane little girl I told you ‘bout. The one kickin n’ screaming all over the place. Reason why Sarah hadta’ stay the night at your place.” 

“The insane little girl?” 

You chime in.

“There's no way- Joel, you’ve probably got the wrong girl” 

“No, he has the right one.” 

You stare directly at him, sending daggers into each of the brown eyes that look back at you. 

“He kicked me out of his car at almost 2 in the morning without a single word. Isn't that right?” 

Though no matter how piercing your gaze it fails to impact him as it should, for with equal level tone he snipes back; 

“Yep, after makin me drive all the way cross’ town just cause she wanted to. Knowin I got someone waitin’ for me. Clearly, something she don't understand all too much anymore.” 

That was unnecessary. 

Something brews inside of you as you glance upon his finger void of a ring, even a tan that would indicate its recent removal. Though as the only sane-minded person seemingly left to observe watches your eyes as you make such a connection, he swiftly puts an end to it. 

“Now, Joel. you know how young girls are they-” 

“I'm not that young.” 

“Alright well, they. Are just passionate, that's all. She was with him for how many was it now? Three years? Left the moment she turned of age. Clearly she just doesn't know how a mans supposed to be. This is all she really knows.” 

This is all she really knows.

That's all that rang through your head as the conversation died and Joel exchanged brief apology. That in a way, he was all you really knew. And now you’re back home, and you don't know what to do with yourself, really. You don't know what you like, or what you don't like. It was all just, him. For so long. You vowed to yourself that day that, no matter what went on you would say yes to anything. To embrace kind of, anything that came your way as some divine fate, or at the very least a fun experience. 

As the night droned on, and you fielded the barrage of squeals, hugs from people you don't remember, and a bit more liquor you could've accounted for, the night came to a slow end. Feeling eyes on you constantly was one thing, but feeling the eyes on the man with who’d you'd had a comfortable reunion was even worse in a way. Although, as you looked upon him in your own moments you saw in him something unveiled after the veil of hatred and sorrow fell off of you. Something, interesting about him. Attractive. Obviously nothing you were going to personally indulge in, but an interesting assertion nonetheless. He stood in the light of the evening, fairy lights covering the backyard as it illuminated his now more time-appropriate outfit; one of marginally better jeans and a plaid shirt, rolled to his elbows to reveal what were impressive forearms, and with the proper fit of his shirt, showed an impressive physique for a single dad.

… … …

 Thats stupid. Anyways, the night drew to a close and as you saw your friend too wrapped up in the conversation of someone relatively older than her, you decided to take the few blocks walk home, especially since you didn't have a car anymore either. Though as you exit the front door to travel down the sidewalk you hear a familiar accent call out to you after only a few feet have been made distance between you and the doorframe; 

“Ya’ walking home this late at night?” 

“Yeah, I am. Not like I've got a car do I?” 

You turn your body to look at him, but only after you've finished your sentence, using the body language of someone unequipped for any more stupid banter to cue him into leaving you alone. 

“How’s about I drive you home. Least I can do after what I’d said today. It wasent quite my place.” 

His voice has an unfamiliar tune of sympathy as he lets out that apology of sorts, so you engage. Though, begrudgingly. 

“Don’t you have a daughter to take care of? That seemed what got you so mad before.” 

He sighs a little, you notice you've hit a bit of a nerve. 

“Well, she’ll be stayin' at a friend's place for a few days, really hit it off. Got nothin but time on my hands now.” 

“Well in that case I'm not gonna say no to a free ride. Obviously.” 

You smile a bit, a first with him. Other than ones of sarcasm, every interaction you've had with him thus far hasn't been all that pleasant. And he smiles back. And, as the light of the moon shines down upon his weathered face, the smirk on his makes your smile grow even more. 

Hopping into his car once more, you take the road to your place with a little more enjoyment than how it transpired the night before. This time, the sound of his music accompanied by a hum through his car is what played to fill the silence of the atmosphere. Something old, country, of course. You’d never heard it, and it sounded well beyond even his years. But despite that, there was a comforting air that was shared in the car-- cool air blowing in from the windows rolled down, watching as his arm held on to the side of the car door from the open window, tapping its side in unison to the beat. 

“This here is it right?” 

Pulling up to your shared home you felt almost a little reluctant to respond with a yes. Though when you do, he steps out of the car as you do as well. You watch as he awaits your circle to the front where he stood, as a means to walk with you to the front of your door. Looking at him curiously as you reach the entrance, he gives response to your motions, though you watch as his fingers fiddle with one another ever so slightly as he poses such a response;

“It ain’t right leaving a lady to walk all by herself after dropping her off. And, I just wanted to say again that it ain't my place makin assumptions about you like that. Wanted to know if I could make it up to ya’. Kinda seems like lifes dealt you a bad hand right now, thought to offer you a drink over it.” 

A drink? 

You thought about that for a second. The man that kicked you out of his car, literally less than 24 hours ago, is now offering to take you out for a drink. Well, it was as a means for apology. So that's something. Nothing more to it, it's a Southern thing. They drink to anything. Especially sorrow. 

“I think I’ll have to take you up on that. You’ll know where I’ll be.” 

You reply with a smile that grows just large enough to show your teeth. He gazed at you for a bit longer, as his eyes grew brighter at the prospect of an invitation accepted. He was a lot less harsh than meets the eye, it seemed. But you still weren't properly convinced. And, there was still much a mystery about him that although intimidated you, enticed you even more. You cock your hip to the side of the doorframe, leaning up against it as he spoke to you as a means to accentuate your figure just a bit as he looked at you. Just to see what would happen. 

“Oh, alright then. 7 alright with you? I’ll come pick you up course’.” 

“Seven’s more than alright with me. I'll see you then, Joel.” 

As you bid farewell to him, you watched as his eyes tracked your movements as you did so. The way your hips have shifted place, the tone at which your voice shifted ever so slightly. He took in your gaze, a small cat eye that sharpened your eyes paired with the sly smile of a woman your age was enough to catch his stare for a moments longer than it should've. You relished in that. 

He leaves you off with a nod and a smile, though you take the time that he walks back to his truck as a means to take in all that he was without interruption. He was handsome, to say the least. There was something to be said about a man with southern hospitality and an ass made from manual labor that reached deeper into a realm of attraction that was often untapped by the men of your age range. And you enjoyed greatly that you’d discovered such a thing. 

Tomorrow, 7pm, Joel. 

#joel #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel smut #joel fanfic #joel miller #joel miller x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #pedro x reader #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel tlou x reader

[soylent-crocodile]

Myr (Monsters)

(Silver Myr by Kev Walker)

(I FUCKING LOVE MYR! They're cute, they're iconic, they're interesting bits of worldbuilding... I HAD to make 'em! Mercifully, I've separated Mirrodin from New Phyrexia, and created the Plane of Steel, a fun little plot hook roughly referencing Mirrodin's creation. If you want to make these native to the Plane of Metal- new to PF2- or simply old machines of a dead culture, feel free.

Also, this will contain rules for Mana Myr, which I spiraled off the five colors of Magic, but expect more myr in the future!)

Myr are mysterious creatures native to the Plane of Steel, an artificial plane ripped from the Plane of Earth and turned into a vast network of self-sustaining machines. Myr themselves are the most common denizens of the plane, servitors to an unknown master and performing upkeep on their more complicated cohabitants.

Myr have been imported from the Plane of Steel in rare quantities, and serve as a rare treasure on the Material Plane, loyal servants infused with magical energy. Some, however, fear inviting such mysterious creatures into their homes, especially paranoid wizards and watchful politicians, as it's a known fact that myr are vulnerable to scrying- and it's a distinct possibility that their master is still watching.

Myr are unique among constructs in being easily repairable once slain. Upon reaching 0 health, a construct with the Myr subtype is not destroyed; rather, it turns inactive, and will reactivate upon being returned to positive hit points. However, a myr that reaches -20hp is destroyed as usual. Additionally, the knowledge of how to create myr has been lost or well-hidden, and they lack rules for construction. Fortunately for myr, they are capable of reproducing themselves, although attempts to study how they do so have not succeeded in creating animate constructs.

There are thousands of different kinds of myr, most being only slight modifications on a basic design; what is presented are some common archetypes and a few notable variations.

Mana Myr

(Myr Moonvessel by Danny Orizio)

Among the most common servitor myr, mana myr work on the machinery that makes up the bulk of the Plane of Metal, and these servitors are attuned to one of the eight schools of magic. Of the myr of the plane, it is the mana myr who are most desired, and those who find themselves in possession of multiple, or let them reproduce, sell them for exorbitant prices.

Each school of magic produces a myr of a different color. Even though they are all made of the same substance, the magic forged into their bodies makes them appear as one of a variety of colors; the mana myr of each school of magic is named after a metal or mineral it resembles.

This small humanoid construct has a strange head shaped like a heavy beak. It resonates with magical energy.

Misc- CR1 LN Small Construct (Myr) HD2 Init:+2 Senses: Perception:+3 Stats- Str:8(-1) Dex:15(+2) Con:- Int:4(-3) Wis:14(+2) Cha:14(+2) BAB:+2 Space:2.5ft Reach:0ft Defense- HP:21(2d10+10) AC:13(+1 Size, +2 Dexterity) Fort:- Ref:+4 Will:+2 CMD:13 Special Defenses: Construct traits Offense- Slam +2(1d3-1) CMB:+0 Speed:25ft Special Attacks:  Feats- Lightning Reflexes Skills- Perception +3, Spellcraft +0 Spell-like Abilities-  Share Memory /at-will Make Whole 1/day Special Qualities- Mana Servant, Scrying Focus Ecology- Environment- Any Languages- Common (Can’t speak) Organization- Solitary Treasure- None Special Abilities- Mana Servant- A mana myr is designed as a vessel for magic. When created, it is infused with magic from one of the eight schools of magic. When used as a focus to cast a spell of that school, the spell is cast at a +1 caster level and with a +1 DC. A mana myr registers as strong magic of its school when viewed through Detect Magic or similar spells. Scrying Focus- Myr are perfect vessels for scrying on. They get a -5 penalty to saves against spells with the Scrying descriptor, and magical sensors made to scry on a myr and its surroundings get a +5 bonus against rolls to perceive it. Additionally, myr- and any object or creature they are in contact with- are not protected by spells such as Nondetection and Screen.

#soylent original #monsters and races #homebrew #pathfinder #mtg #mtgblr #myr #mirrodin

[writersmorgue]

Physical Headcanons ★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡

TWs: please read with caution! Discussion of adult bodies (all characters are aged up!) Pictures are included for visual reference. Teen and up audiences.

Featuring: Bakugo, Mina, Midoriya, Uraraka, Todoroki

【ｂａｋｕｇｏ　ｋａｔｓｕｋｉ】

This man is solid. The only squish on him is his pecs (He doesn't even correct his friends when they call 'em tits, he's proud of it). He's 6'2 (188cm), not a giant but a decent height to tower over the rest of Japan. His arms and shoulders are broad, tapering down into a slim waist. His hands are large and calloused, veins on his forearms visibly winding into them. He widens back out around his ass and thighs, but they hold nowhere near the power of his upper body. He relies on that area completely for his fighting style and it shows. There's a subtle V line into his pelvis, paired with a trail of fine blond hair that he prefers to shave. Having extra body hair under his suit can be uncomfortable, especially when he works hours upon hours without breaks. He added an undercut to his style during his second year of UA for a similar reason and has kept it ever since. Most of his height comes from his torso and his legs are an average length. Though his thighs are nothing to laugh at, the muscles are impressive even for their lither shape. His scent is something reminiscent of gun smoke and a new car. He prefers baggier clothes, not aiming to draw attention when he's not in uniform. He's sexiest in black and he fuckin' knows it. His lobes are stretched to 18mm, and he has an industrial on his left ear. His nipples are pierced as well "Because fuck you."

【ｍｉｎａ　ａｓｈｉｄｏ】

She's taller than most of her female colleagues, 5'9 (175cm). With long legs and killer muscles, her lower half carries most of the weight during her hero work. Her muscle build and workouts are similar to that of a hockey player, with her go-to fighting move being to skate on a wave of acid. She has strong abs, helping to keep her balance when she's on unstable ground. She's an absolute powerhouse in the gym, out-squatting most of her coworkers. Her sidekicks love goading the fresh UA interns to challenge her to a spar. Her fingers are long and calloused, and when she's on a break from hero work she always has a set of nails on. Her arms are smaller, but nothing to scoff at. She focuses on fighting and boxing to train them, rather than bulking up. She smells like whatever gum she's currently chewing and she prefers Japanese street style clothes. She has basically every ear piercing you can think of, plus her nipples and naval. Her hairstyle has remained basically the same since school, although occasionally she'll buzz the sides during the warmer months.

【ｍｉｄｏｒｉｙａ　ｉｚｕｋｕ】

The shortest, densest, thickest man for miles (possibly galaxies). Topping out at 5'4 (163cm). His fighting style relies mostly on his legs and arms meaning his thighs alone could crush twenty men. He loves to attach himself to people like a bodybuilding koala as a greeting. He was blessed with monster calf genes, they tripled in size during his time at UA. His arms aren't quite as impressive as his legs but don't underestimate them. With the power of OFA, he can easily punch a villain into space. The hottest part about him, though? His confidence. His debut as a pro hero also kicked off his modeling career. Instead of curling in on himself, he announces his presence loudly. He fanboys without shame and flexes for his fans when they ask. He loves showing off his strength, picking his friends up at every opportunity, and carrying them around without breaking a sweat. His undercut and controlled curls help lessen his naïve appearance, though his freckled cheeks and forest-green eyes remain filled with boyish charm. He smells like coffee and old spice. He loves his dumb graphic tees, but his manager forces him into reasonable clothes when he attends events. He's famous for one suit in particular that frames his ass perfectly.

【ｏｃｈａｋｏ　ｕｒａｒａｋａ】

Short, thick, and stronger than you. At 5'2 (157cm) she can (and has) take on dozens of enemies at once with ease. Without her her quirk she's capable of lifting triple her body weight, and her back muscles make Bakugo jealous. Her thighs are capable of crushing basically anything you can put between them, and she regularly offers to open watermelons because it flusters everyone watching. Villains have taken one look at her and fled, she is that powerful. She's an anxious nail-biter and her cuticles are always messed up. Nail polish doesn't last an hour on her. She opted for a shorter haircut after second year, though her longer bangs remain with her signature style. She loves athleisure wear and can be found wearing leggings and muscle tanks 90% of the time. Rarely does she attend events she's forced to dress up for. Her stomach is soft and she has a naval piercing with a small planet charm dangling off of it that she never changes. She smells like flowers and rain.

【ｔｏｄｏｒｏｋｉ　ｓｈｏｕｔｏ】

One of the tallest in the former Class A, he stands at 6'5 (196cm), although Bakugo claims that's inaccurate. His muscles are lean and lengthy. His fighting style mimics Mina's, and his build is similar to that of a figure skater or swimmer. His abs are envied by all of Japan, and his V-line was the sexual awakening of millions. The carpet does, in fact, match the drapes, not that he advertises it. He grew his hair out after UA, and prefers to wear it loose or french braided down his back. His thighs and calves are lankier, and he focuses his workouts on speed and endurance rather than weightlifting. He's definitely the model of the group. Effortlessly handsome although his style is that of a 14-year-old boy. His stylist regularly steals the cargo shorts from his house, but he just buys more. He owns at least 30 v-neck t-shirts in every color he can find. His redeeming style quality is his hero suit, which was finally swapped out when he debuted to a more sleek design. He smells like a campfire in a snowstorm, more of one or the other depending on which side of him you're standing on. He has no piercings but several tattoos that his costume covers.

-

Thanks for reading! Reblogs encouraged. No reposts. <3

#if you'd like another with diff bnha characters let me know #imagining these is NOT a chore iykwim eheheheheheheh #bnha #mha #headcanon #tw body mention #tw body image #midoriya izuku #bakugo katsuki #todoroki shouto #mina ashido #ochako uraraka #pro hero #deku #uravity #shouto #alien queen #lord explosion murder god dynamight #ground zero #aged up characters #hcs #llyn writes shit #my writing #images are not mine #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #teen and up audiences #cuz i talk about nibbles teehee

[tmd-clangen]

MOON -1 | BLOOD MOON

SOLITUDE | PART ONE

part one | part two | part three

“Stay right there.”

Poolgleam’s firmly cold voice commanded Leappaw into complacency. So it did for the others, as well; Serpentkit squeezed his way under Leappaw’s belly and stood there, shivering from both cold and fear. Irispaw wrapped his tail around Bushkit, who mewled a few faint words that Leappaw couldn’t precisely make out.

Poolgleam fixes them all with a stare, a hollow stare, that eats up Leappaw’s heart despite how many times he’s seen it so far. The five of them were stopped at the front of a very imposingly tall barrier made of some kind of gray, shiny material, something he’d never seen before. “Stay right there.”

Leappaw realized Poolgleam wanted a response. “Okay,” Leappaw meowed slowly, shifting his paws in the thin layer of new snow.

Poolgleam’s stare remained a few gaping moments longer before he turned, hooking his claws into the square gaps of the barrier and hoisting himself upward. Leappaw watched his ascent, closer and closer to the tips of the treetops and the bleeding red sky with every grunt and every kick of his legs. At last, he reached the top of the barrier; then Poolgleam jumped down, landing on the other side of the barrier with a slight wobble in his legs.

Leappaw continued to watch Poolgleam as he walked further away without another glance back. He walked into the open clearing of the bordered place, glancing around a few times. Mostly at the very large things that were present here- yet again things Leappaw had never seen, but at least heard of, this time. Monsters, he remembers them being called?

Leappaw turned his head over his shoulder to look at Irispaw. Irispaw is just staring at the ground. “Hey, Iris,” he prompted, “those are monsters, right?”

Irispaw blinks once, then looks up. The bags under his eyes are miserable. He followed Leappaw’s gaze back into the clearing full of giant things, and nodded slowly. “Yeah. Those are monsters.” A minute later, Irispaw added very quietly, “…poppa told me all ‘bout ‘em.”

Then he’s staring back at the ground again. Leappaw frowns. Irispaw looked like he’d aged moons in just a week. Leappaw, though he wanted to say he was any better, could share the same feeling. He was sure that Poolgleam did, too. And he could only hope that Serpentkit nor Bushkit felt that way. But, looking at them…

Serpentkit cried. There was more time that he was crying than he wasn’t. And though Bushkit still had the peppy energy he always did, Leappaw could painfully tell when it waned. They were both so young. They didn’t deserve to have to deal with this like he and Irispaw and Poolgleam did.

But neither did the three of them deserve it. None of them did.

A long, echoing shriek rips through the otherwise silent night. The beast doesn’t sound very close, but Leappaw subconsciously pressed himself closer to the strange barrier. So did Irispaw, and the kits moved with them, whimpering. “…scary. Scary. Scary,” Serpentkit kept whispering.

“It’s okay, Serp. I’m protecting you, remember?” Leappaw murmured back, sweeping his tail a little closer. “I have you. You’re fine.”

“Scary,” Serpentkit doesn’t respond otherwise.

Irispaw’s shoulders brushed against Leappaw’s flank before Irispaw laid down next to him, folding his legs in and wrapping his tail around Bushkit. Irispaw heaved a shaking sigh. Leappaw’s frown only grew deeper.

He looked back into the place past the barrier, still staring at all the monsters. Poolgleam was out of sight, but just when Leappaw’s heart was beginning to pound, he came back into the open clearing. And then Poolgleam dashed right into a big wound in one of the monsters, disappearing inside it. Leappaw watched him do this several times; in, out, in, out, in, out, checking all the different monsters. All of them different colors, most sharing a similar body shape and patterns.

Finally, it seems that Poolgleam has finished checking all the monsters’ wounds, bounding back out of the last one and toward the barrier. Now, though, his attention landed on a twisting red tendril that on one end fixed itself to the top of the barrier, and on the other end to the bottom of the barrier, though more off to the side. He tugged at the bottom end of the tendril until it came loose from the barrier, then he started to move backward, still tugging hard at it.

Leappaw watched with complete fascination as, despite the apparent difficulty given Poolgleam’s struggle, the barrier slowly moved backward along with the tendril’s direction. Poolgleam only moved it back about a tail-length wide before he let go of the tendril, panting slightly. Then, he finally looked at them all, muttering out, “In.”

Leappaw led the way, making sure Serpentkit stayed under his belly as he slunk into the little space Poolgleam’s effort had created. Then Bushkit came after him, then Irispaw. The four of them looked at Poolgleam and his ever-hollow expression.

Poolgleam gave only a slight nod, before moving past them and toward the barrier. With his head now, he pushed it to close the gap. He took the bottom end of the tendril yet again and secured it as it had been before. When he was done with that, his eyes turned distantly to stare at one of the monsters, and he flicked his tail in an order to follow. The four of them followed as Poolgleam led them into the monster’s open wound.

Leappaw had heard before that monsters were weird, hollow, and soulless beings with no organs and guts, instead bearing a really odd internal structure- and what he was seeing now sure fit what he’d been told by the elders. Inside this monster, it was very empty, with a few heightened protrusions on its sides and similar parts above those protrusions that hung instead from the top of the monster’s insides. Some parts of its insides seemed to divide off into small caves. At the very rear of the monster’s inside, raised off the ground by thin, shiny legs, was a thick thing that looked like it had a soft texture, then something he recalled was probably a ladder, then yet another of the thick things suspended even higher up by the same shiny stick legs.

Poolgleam padded toward it, Leappaw and the others following after him. He gestured with a sharp tilt of his head, and the four of them sprang up onto the thick thing. It was in fact soft; perhaps even softer than moss. Much more loose than moss, though; its thin coat shifted with every little move of his paws. Bushkit discovered with a gasp that this thick thing’s pelt could be lifted up, but it didn’t bleed, only falling back into place once Bushkit let it go.

Irispaw took to curling up quickly on the thinpelt, followed by Serpentkit, who was still murmuring something nonsensical. And while Bushkit was just testing out how far up the thinpelt could be lifted, Leappaw looked down at Poolgleam. Poolgleam looked back up at him.

“Stay here. I’ll be back,” Poolgleam said.

Leappaw’s brows furrowed. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back,” Poolgleam didn’t elaborate. He turned around and left through the monster’s wound.

Leappaw stared after him for a while- even through a part of the monster that was strangely see-through. Poolgleam headed back toward the barrier. Then he began to climb it again. Is he leaving us? Why is he leaving?

“Poolgleam!” Leappaw shouted aloud, unintentionally. Irispaw startled.

“What—”

Leappaw whipped his head around to face Irispaw. “Poolgleam’s leaving!”

“What?!” Irispaw exclaimed with far more alarm this time, back on his paws in an instant. He streaked out of the monster’s wound and Leappaw followed him, barely able to hear the cries of Serpentkit and Bushkit as they left so suddenly.

But by the time Leappaw and Irispaw made it back to the barrier, all they could do was watch as Poolgleam disappeared into the darkness in the woods beyond.

#tmdclangen #moon -1 #clangen #gilded colony #leappaw #irispaw #poolgleam #serpentkit #bushkit

[adobe-outdesign]

Review on Poltchageist please? it's design is interesting and cute.

(This is the last review request in my inbox—if you guys have requests, send 'em in.)

(Also, important note before we start: Ironically, some leaks regarding the DLC just dropped today. I don't review content until it's officially released, so I will not be discussing any of the leaked information in this review.)

While I don't think I like it more than the Sinistea line, I do like Poltchageist here. I don't actually drink tea much at all and I don't like matcha flavoring much either, so correct me if any of the following information is wrong, but it seems like it's based off of vintage matcha tea caddies. Here's one I dug up on Google that looks very similar, right down to the black patterning and the "face":

At first, I wasn't sure why this was a convergent evo, as it's still tea, just a different flavor. It feels like a convergent to tea would be something like coffee, which looks like tea but isn't. A different flavor of tea seems more like a regional. This also doesn't look that much like the original line; you couldn't accidentally mistake one for the other.

However, I do sort of get what they were getting at—Poltchageist is similar to Polteageist, meaning the line is effectively inversed, which is actually a pretty cool idea. It has the painted-on face of Sinistea, and it's possessing the container itself like Sinsitea does instead of the tea, but the actual body shape being a tea-holding container is all Polteageist. It's basically how Wugtrio looks a lot more different from Dugtrio than Wiglett does to Diglett, just backwards. In that respect, I think it gets away with being a convergent.

That said, I do wish it had different typing. I think it was neat that our previous two convergents had types that were opposites, or at least completely different; maybe this one could've been grass/fairy, or maybe even grass/water.

Anyway, all that conceptual stuff aside, it looks pretty good visually. I like the striking black-and-white palette with the green matcha as an accent color, and I really love those floating matcha powder hands. The matcha scoop(? is that the right word) is also a fun touch. Bonus points for how drippy the face looks, almost like it's crying, and the kintsugi-style repair job on the cracks.

My only nitpicks are that the three dots above the eye feel kind of random, and the hexagonal cut-outs for the hands feel too inorganic—more natural cracks and chips would've been better. Also, I feel like the face could've fit the container more. If you look at Sinistea or even the above caddy, there's a lot of intricate markings that fit the space nicely, while Poltchageist's face feels more slapped on.

Regardless, overall, it's a pretty decent concept and design. I don't like it quite as much as Sinistea and I don't know how badly that line needed something new, but this is fun and definitely unique enough to justify itself.

#poltchageist #pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon reviews

[ranticore]

hello... 5-15 of those asks if you'd like for John (any iteration!) and Nico... hehe

yay 🧡

5. Is there any significance behind their hair color? 

not really lol. john's hair is brown because it's the most common hair colour, nico [pascal's object of obsession from 2017 inver] has black hair because i wanted to further visually distinguish him from bowman. both have visible grey streaks because it's an easy way to help define the shape of the hair when drawing it

6. Is there any significance behind their eye color? 

yes but only in that they (and all my characters) have brown eyes because i got tired of ppl seemingly on purpose avoiding brown eyes for their interesting characters. so i only make brown-eyed characters on purpose. the only exception is cuinn (harpy) because he has albinism but typical members of his species have dark brown eyes.

7. Is there any significance behind their height? 

yes, john is my height on purpose (5'4") and nico is 5'3" because i'd unintentionally made my previous trans man characters pretty tall so i thought well let's make one who is short hashtag representation

8. What (if anything) do you relate to within their character/story? 

i relate to john because i'm also a beautiful brunette who sucks so much. nico is unrelatable to me because he's a cop (he's not really but the plot does follow a buddy cop format)

9. Are they based off of you, in some way? 

john from long long ago (2011, my first major setting) was a direct self insert thus the similarities in appearance. he has some parts of me in him because he's my main dnd character and it's hard not to project when doing 5 hour improv sessions once a week but he has never been less like me tbh. nico ehhh not really, we don't align personality-wise because i would not tolerate pascal for more than 5 seconds without wanting to hit him with my car

10. If they have an LI, how much of their character is tailored to be compatible to that person? 

for john yeah 100%, they were made for each other. the angle i'm going with for their arc is a "perfectly synchronous" relationship being no protection for some bad shit going down between them, showing that if two people are SOO perfectly made for one another, it can often lead to one person taking the other for granted, assuming they can predict how the other person will react in any given situation, and ultimately it all results in a messy breakdown of communication.

for nico i meannnnnnnn he is a horse trainer and pascal is a horse so there is that, but in terms of personality they are intentionally very opposed and clash frequently, get on each other's nerves, fight, and not always smooth over those incidences. they are not very compatible.

11. Did you know what the OC’s sexuality would be at the time of their creation? 

yep

12. What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)? 

I'm going to be real with u I could draw and write John in my sleep. Nico i find difficult to write, I have a hard time finding his voice. The ranger uniform also annoys me.

13. How far past the canon events that take place in their world have you extended their story, if at all? 

john as a dnd character has no future whatsoever aside from a planned multiclass, he could fall off a cliff next session and die idk. Nico is one of the few characters i haven't thought much about post-canon, i don't feel like it's relevant.

14. If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be? 

john: 1. literally just say the first thing that comes to mind, always. 2. keep em guessing

nico: 1. hes scared of boats and this is surprisingly relevant, i keep forgetting it lol. 2. i try to keep in mind my studies of horse trainers & their work, how they interact with their animals and what subtle body language they might use; these are people who frequently have to convince giant frightened animals that they are in charge here, this translates into how they hold themselves, how they speak, how they approach conflict etc.

15. What is something about your OC can make you laugh? 

john's secret fear which we have discussed in dms (iykyk)

nico let himself get tricked into going on a theme park date with pascal while on duty and didn't even realise until afterwards that it was an elaborate setup of fabricated evidence all so that pascal could get him in the tunnel of love

[vega-482]

My Stanley and Narrator refs (plus more info)

Stanley:

Probably born in america but has latine parents (don't ask me which country(ies), i couldn't decide)

He's latino mestizo/mixed race, but doesn't know much else besides that

He can physically speak but he stutters a lot, he's slightly more fluent in spanish than english but still stutters, which caused him to get bullied as a kid, which then gave him severe anxiety, therefore making him develop selective mutism. It became so severe that he had to learn ASL to communicate a bit better, but still has some problems when speaking to strangers 

Not sure if he has ADHD, is autistic, or both, but when he gets sensory overload gets very stressed, he freezes completely and cannot even sign to communicate u_u

Knows english, spanish and ASL

When he gets to know someone better, he speaks more to them and sometimes even without stuttering

Stims by pressing buttons and other similar stuff, he likes the clicking noises :y

Only expressive when he has strong emotions, otherwise his face is very deadpan

Knows he is sexually and aesthetically attracted to men and other genders, but has only had romantic feelings for men

Used to have piercings on his face but had to take em off bc of the dress code, still has some hidden ones tho

The Narrator

Because he's an immortal entity he doesn't care about gender, but in human terms he'd be a man, that's what feels right to him

He didn't know that he was trans (well he didn't ever consider that he was trans or cis) in his human form until he somehow accidentally transformed into human and found out

Doesn't need glasses to see, he just likes the aesthetic :y

Human form is weak (as much as an old man is lol) and can only make? some apendages that look like the adventure line(tm), kinda like weird tentacles, and phase through walls, but that transforms him back into his light form

Light form can be 2d, projected kinda like a shadow, or 3d, it can float and change size, he can be tinyy or big, but only in light form

Light form can grab objects and is usually solid unless he wants to phase thru walls, he cannot phase through organic stuff/bodies

He cannot alter his shape either, just size

His hands feet and head aren't attached to the rest of the body in light form

His glasses do the -anime glowy glasses- thing 🤔

Unsure about sexuality but is gay 4 stanley ahah

Can only shift to human <-> light  by phasing objects

When changing to light form and back, that resets his human body (can cure injuries, hunger, etc)

He's neurodivergent as a human, idk how it works as a god-like entity tho 

Can only read Stanley's thoughts in his light form, in human form he can't 

idk I’ll add more stuff when I remember

#tsp #the stanley parable #the stanley parable ultra deluxe #the stanley parable fanart #the stanley parable narrator #stanarrator #i guess #vega art

[chuuyasfanboy]

Hi ! I Hope you’re doing well and I’m not bothering you too much with my random request, I’m here for a Genshin impact and bungo stray dogs romantic matchup with a male character

Sexuality : Straight

In my free time I enjoy reading, playing video games, listening to music, doing crochet, drawing, learning new languages, dancing and swimming.

Apparence : Long wavy/almost curly light brown hair and almond shaped brown eyes. I’m pretty tanned. 5’4,so I’m kinda short and normal weight though on the curvy side(I have a pear shaped body). My fashion sense is a mix of vintage clothes from the European 50s and kfashion.

So about my personality: I’m a Virgo, my mbti is intj, enneagram 5w6 I’m mostly withdrawn, individualistic, introverted and very honest even blunt at times. I need a lot of alone time.When im with people i’m close with, I tend to be more cheerful and energetic, I like to joke around too and tease people. One of the thing that stands out the most about me is that I’m extremely determined, ambitious and eager to learn new things. However, I do have some very specific subjects/ hobbies I tend to get hyper focused on.I’m also very observant and notices a lot of small details and I try my best to be attentive to my friends which makes me a good listener, especially for my friends who I value very much and try my best to be considerate with( for example by avoiding being too blunt).

I can be very anxious at times and I’m extremely cautious with people I don’t and sometimes do know, I have a hard time opening up and I’m an over thinker.

I have a hard time with small talk, the one where you talk just to be polite, although I don’t mind joking around with my friends and telling nonsense. I dislike noisy and crowded places, it stress me out.

I like funny/teasing and intelligent people who can give me a lot of personal space.

I suffer from insomnia and probably a bit of social anxiety too, my love language is physical touch and act of services.

Thank you very much and have a nice day !!!

Never a bother to get a request! I picked two fairly different characters for you just to keep them from being repetitive, but I hope you'll still like em!

For Genshin, I match you with...

Wanderer

Wanderer doesn't really tend to care about appearances. Or, physical ones. All he's looking for a partner is someone who's note entirely unsufferable, he does NOT have high standards. Though, he does find your fashion a little amusing. Those are two completely different styles and he thinks its hilarious watching you try to mix them in a comprehensive way. Just poke fun at his hat, he'll stop real quick.

He finds a specific interest in you learning new languages. A hobby? Really? Not something he considers a hobby, it took him a while to even understand the common slang in Sumeru let alone in nations he doesn't interract with much. Definitely asks you for tips every once in a while. He only goes to you and if you point it out he get's all defensive. He finds it really embarassing to have to rely on someone else, but if you don't point it out then…

Thankfully, Wanderer is pretty similar! He's introverted, and needs a lot of time alone to recharge his battery. That battery goes out QUICK too. Its a wonder how the two of you even met (probably Nahida's doing) because he practically ignores everybody. Most people are just really infuriating, especially when they're trying to make him like them. It's obvious, and annoying. When you got to the point you were comfortable enough to be cheerful around him, he almost did a double take. Because, really, he always figrued you were all sassy and cold. Then you just turn around and give him a bubbly smile and he's SO CONFUSED.

He wont ever rant to you, not on purpose. But with you paying so much attention to all his little trauma responses, it's hard for him not to be dragged out of his shell a bit. And oh boy, he has a lot to vent about. Mostly complaining about Ei, or Childe, or Sumeru, or this and that. He doesn't actually tell you a lot about his history, and certainly not about his time in the Fatui. Even with little hints, he's a mystery. It's frustraing, because he just wont open up to anybody, and is intent to never do so. He bottles up a lot, which leads to outbursts sometimes. Which, in turn triggers your overthinking, then triggers HIS overthinking and wow it's just a whole mess. Sometimes Nahida has to step in, because you two cannot function during arguments. Just a side effect of Wanderer, really.

You and Wanderer are both pretty similar when it comes to socialization. You both dislike small talk, and both hate crowded places. Thankfully, it means he doesn't find you annoying, not as much as everyone else. And he's more open to friendly teasing because of it, he knows you wont take offense. The two of you can stay in bed together at 3am and talk about whatever gossip he can think up. It's real sweet, he enjoys you a lot more than he lets on!

For BSD, I match you with...

Kunikida

Falling for you was a NIGHTMARE for Kunikida. I mean, you hardly met any of his 58 requirements. But I guess you cant stop your heart…

He really respects your fashion, finds it interesting. I definitely see him as the type to research random things, so he might actually dedicate a few free hours to reading up on your inspiration. It's bad, because he ends up knowing more about it then you do, which is- embarassing to say the least. Depending on what you want to put him in, you MIGHT be able to convince him to match with you. Maybe.

As long as you do hobbies only during free-time, he doesnt find any issues with them. Don't try to pull a sketchbook out a work, though. The furthest you'll get is passivey listening to music while doing paperwork. He's very serious about your responsibilities! He doesn't get free time a lot, but if he ever does, he doesn't mind spending it with you doing unscheduled home dates. It gives him a chance to finish up any last documents to sign and you'll get to spend time with him. Read out a book to him, he LOVES it.

He tends to akin you to a less annoying Dazai, especially when you're getting more energetic. Seeing as you don't go out of your way to ruin his day, though, he doesn't mind it. He's willing to indulge you as long as it fits within his schedule, just be mindful of any spontanious plans! He doesn't mind your bluntness, in fact, he actually appreciates it! Everybodys white lies in critiquing him makes it difficult to actually improve. If you're brutally honest, it's all the better for him. Though- he might start to take it personally, especially if it's something particularly important. Not that he'd ever change, buuuut it does bother him for a few hours and he'll busy himself to forget about it.

Kunikida doesn't mind your aversion to social outings, and is more than happy to take the conversation for the both of you. He does have a bad habit of planning things out to a T though, and if your social battery gets in the way he's just a TAD upset. He'll get over it, though!

Kunikida's not particularly funny or teasing, but he is fairly smart. Especially book wise. Now, he can't recite out the whole dictionary to you, but he can definitely help with spellchecking any essays or reports. He also doesn't mind beating up somebody for you if you may happen to ask. As long as it's deserved, he has a very short fuse with people who feel the need to insult you for any reason.

#x reader #bsd #bungo stray dogs #requests open #bsd x reader #kunikida #kunikida doppo #kunikida x reader #wanderer #wanderer genshin #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #matchups open #matchup

[gamegem92]

What Lies Deep (Jelly Jamm AU)

(Made this for mermay, and I might make it a full AU!)

(Your prompt: Bello is a merperson who gets injured and washed up on the shore of a beach unconscious, and is found by Goomo.) Soooo, trigger warnings for injuries, and of course, slight platonic Goomello/Honey-Cinnamon-Tea. Also, the language Bello originally speaks in is mermish, but he learns English/Jammbonian along the way!

~~~~~~~

He didn’t think it was real.

The very few times that Goomo went to the beach, he found a couple of shells or coastal dodo species, but he didn’t expect to find someone washed up on the shore, much less a kid his age.

The young boy had a complexion of red with matching hair that smelled like sea salt, a missing tooth on one side, and odd glowing marks across his body. There was one thing that bugged him, however: he didn’t have any legs, just a long tail with a heart-shaped fin at the end, and there were more fins across his body.

He didn’t expect to find the odd creature, per se, for it was actually Rita, who he was taking on a trip there, who found the strange boy on the beach. They immediately brought it back to the castle and informed the Queen about the boy with a tail, and she told the other kids to help while Goomo kept the boy at home with him. Ongo patched up his injuries, and Mina was building an enclosure for the boy from the water.

Rita usually came over to check on him and his damp friend, which she called “Ruby” because of his ruby red scales. Mina usually came over to study the odd creature while it was unconscious, and found out that it was scarred and wounded. Ongo… well, he knew something about it that could help, but none of the other kids could understand what he tried to say.

Now was an eventful day; the water boy was finally waking up! What do I say, what do I say?! “Hi, I thought you were dead!” No, no, no, he’ll think I’m trying to kill him! Maybe, “Welcome to the neighborhood”? He probably doesn’t know what that is! I know! I’ll ask if he’s okay! What can go wrong? The other boy’s eyes slowly opened up, a similar ruby red to his scales, and fins flaying outward as if he was trying to stretch.

“Excuse me, are you…” but before he could finish the sentence, he was lost in its gaze, stumbling over each syllable in awe. The creature was curious, and its markings lit up. The markings included, but weren’t limited to, a stripe across the chest patterned with gold scales in a lightning bolt shape, rings and stripes around his arms in a silvery white and a deep blue, and scales of the different colors dotting his tail and making odd little patterns.

It stared in confusion before trying to get closer, only to be stopped by the walls of his tank. “Y-you… you’re beautiful…” After hearing this, the water-dwelling boy pouted. “I-I-I’m so sorry! I just… never saw anything like you, a-and-“ it seemed to laugh a little, before answering in a language unknown to him. All he could hear was “Dal em setanim…” 

“So… I found you on the beach, and you were unconscious, so I thought I’d keep you here, is that okay?” He said nothing, but his scales did light up. The smile on the odd water-dwelling boy’s face was enough of an answer for Goomo. “Great! So, do you have a name? I, uh, don’t want to call you ‘it’ all the time…” “…Name?” “Y-Yeah, what do you call yourself? For instance, my name is Goomo! And… you are?”

“B-Bello.”

~~~~~~~

Bello was adjusting nicely to his tank, but he got bored easily. Mina brought some books for him to read- or rather, for him to have Goomo read them- and tried teaching them how to speak each other’s language.

Rita began to accept that the odd fishy boy was part of the neighborhood now, and even helped him adjust, even if she still called him “Ruby” sometimes. Ongo sort of spoke to Bello too, even understanding what he said. But Goomo still felt like a stranger to the ocean dweller.

Bello has learned how to speak Jammbonian as well, but he could only parrot little phrases and words here and there. Whether he knew what they meant or not was another story altogether. Even so, they had little talks in order to understand each other. 

Today, it was Mina’s turn to visit them, and the boys were genuinely interested in hearing a story today! “What’s the book about today?” “What? What?” “This,” she opened the book to a page with a  picture of a young woman with a long coat and a sword, “is the journal of Lady Kazamira.” She read them tales of seafaring adventures and daring sword fights, but then one story peaked Bello’s interest.

It was about something that Kazamira called “merpeople,” and Bello immediately spoke up after hearing some depictions. “Ffuegane! Dat… is mee!” Mina and Goomo looked up at him as he said this. “Wh-what did he say?” Mina thought for a moment, and then she began to realize and speak up, increasingly energetic. “Ffuegane is how they say merpeople in second order Mermish! Of course! His tail, a-and his need for constant hydration or contact with water, the markings… your roommate is a young merperson!”

Goomo couldn’t believe it. They were real. Kazamira’s stories were based on something true. “Y-You’re a-“ Bello emitted a quick grunt before realizing that the others couldn’t understand, and tried speaking their language again. “…eeas. I am!” “That’s so cool! C’mon! Let’s hear more stories about merpeople!”

“If you like this book so much, you can keep it. There’s even a translator in there!”

~~~~~~~

The few days that went by, Goomo learned how to speak Mermish and how to care for and maintain his merman roommate. Bello learned a little, too- he learned some of his own kind’s history! Meanwhile, the enclosure was almost complete! Maybe I should enjoy a little fly-by and check on the progress?

Carefully placing a blanket over Bello’s tank, he started up the flight function and began to plink away on the built-in piano keys. “Looks great so far…” The tune he played was nothing too fancy, just a little song that flowed like water and could easily be hummed to… but then… he heard something.

Was that… singing?

Before he turned around, he engaged autopilot and looked for the source. It was Bello singing! Goomo could NOT believe it. “Y-You’re a great singer!” “Krrr?” The young merman hid under the blanket yet again. “No, no, no! It’s okay! You’re really good at singing, too!” “…thank you.” It was obvious that Bello was not used to having others hear him sing.

“You know…” Goomo walked up to the tank. “I’m a little shy about my piano skills… what do you say? It can be our little secret!” “See-crit?” Oh, right… he doesn’t understand certain words… “I won’t tell anyone about your singing, and you don’t tell anyone about my ability to play piano, okay?” “…Truth.” What was the young merman saying? Tell the truth? But he was so scared!

“I-I can’t do that! What if they laugh at me?!” Bello didn’t change his response at all, restating “truth” in a much more firm tone. “…You’re right. But what if-“ “They laugh… their problem!” After hearing that, he felt a little better. As he turned off autopilot, he safely landed his home and began to head for the door- “Mrrrrrr!”

Bello seemed to be making lots of sounds, as if he wanted him to stay for a little longer. The words that he were focused on were “Oowii” and “Hhu-hng,” meaning that he wanted his attention, and something about the heart… “What is it? What are you trying to say?” “…Why I was… hurt…”

He explained to Goomo that in the beginning, he was hunting for a bit, and he was considered the oddball of his own little schooling, but he ran- er, swam- away, trying to find a place of his own where he was the leader. Unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly stay on task, and he got distracted by the surface easily.

As a result, hunters easily spotted and captured him aboard their ship. He managed to escape, but not without scars from the sharp sticks they held and bruises from his attempts to swim after his tail became weak from the lack of water. “I��m sorry you had to go through that… I promise, with all my heart, that you will never have to go through that again as long as I am here!”

Bello seemed to smile after hearing that. “So, what are we waiting for? Let’s go check on your new home!” “New home!” Goomo picked up Bello’s tank of water and placed it on top of a rolling cart that he was provided, dragging it over to the exact area where Mina said the tank was.

Gently eyeing the handiwork, it was perfect. There was an area for everyone to walk in and see the charming little merman swim around, and steps to walk up and interact with him. The actual tank part had a water filter to keep it fresh and a bed of sand with aquatic plants and small prey creatures to simulate Bello’s hunting and foraging instincts, and the best part: he could see all his new friends, including his best friend.

“It’s still a work in progress,” Mina added, “but I assure you, soon enough, it’s going be perfect!” “What do you mean? It’s already perfect! And Bello really seems to like it, too!” “But there needs to be waterways so he can travel Jammbo and visit you! It-“ Bello immediately tried climbing into the special containment zone for him, and immediately loved it. “…alright, I guess we could do the waterways together for now.” “Where should we start?”

Bello immediately traced a line from his containment to Goomo’s house.

“I think Bello has a good idea.”

#jelly jamm #jelly jamm au #Bello #honey cinnamon tea #goomo #mina #rita #ongo #mermay au #mer au #mermay #feel free to draw Bello’s mer design #Just as long as you credit me #It’s mostly platonic but they do trust each other more at the end

[sublimenol]

Sonic Villain OCs!

So I've peddled about Deirdre a lot, but in her little AU world, I've got several villains that are her recurring baddies. I wrote up a few profiles on them for anyone interested for what bubbles at my headspace lately.

Gyre the Ibis

“My stratagems are sound. I simply need better soldiers.”

Gender: Male

Affiliation: Independent, Resistance(Formerly), Battle-Bird Armada(Formerly)

Description: Primary Color: White body. Orange-red masking around his eyes resembling goggles. Yellow beak. Fingertips are black feathers. Stylized take on an American White Ibis. Looks similar to Babylon Rogues. Lank, “Geek shaped”.

Wears a knee length, drab olive all weather coat buttoned up to his neck. Shoes are boot polish black. Attempts to look imposing and militaristic and serious.

Weapon of Choice: Gyre has a reprogrammed Valkeen that he brings out if he feels there is going to be a threat to his person. He prefers to keep it hidden to call it in should he need to escape.

Personality: Gyre is a legend in his own mind. He is a tactical genius. He is a clear headed, rational thinker who knows how to make the tough calls. In his mind, every decision is one of cruel calculus that no one but him seems to be willing to do. He is surrounded by a world of tools and fools, how he treats others is based on where he decides they fall. On a positive side, he can be cunning and prudent and his ego is not borne of overconfidence. He knows when to fold ‘em should the situation turn against him.

Background: Gyre’s background is simple. He grew in simple circumstances and found enjoyment in testing his mind against others; enjoying feeling superior and basking in adulation for his successes in education, games and glory. He did well in his small hamlet, and the taste of superiority led him to looking toward the Battle Bird Armada as his chance to become a figure of greatness. He learned quickly that he was a small fish in a very big pond. Unable to move upward, he stewed until Eggman’s conquest smashed through the Armada, GUN, and most of the world. Gyre took his chance and took leave of the Armada, cutting loose and escaping with his hide.

From there, he joined the resistance, inflating his military background for leverage. It did not take long for the Resistance to push back his influence. Much of his grand strategy was to expend as many resources as possible in order to secure any victory no matter how meaningless. He proved himself too willing to sacrifice others for the sake of scraps. He once again quickly found himself out of favor. Made worse when the war finally ended and the Resistance dissolved.

Gyre’s attention turned toward the scattered Eggman Empire. They could possibly use his intel, and his desire to get revenge on the Restoration for their slight to his ego. However, this plan was cut short by the Metal Virus. One of countless victims, in the aftermath Gyre determined the Eggman Empire to be just as much an enemy as every other power. He would not serve, he would command. He would finally work his way to becoming “General Gyre”. If he could only get good, loyal, proper soldiers as an army for his superior mind.

Boxcars the Badger

“Three rules in life; don’t apologize, don’t hold grudges, and always get while the getting’s good.”

Gender: Male

Affiliation: Gyre

Description: Tall and broad, little chunky. Upsized Sonic character model. Smithy or Tumble from IDW. Color pattern is the same as an American badger, though substitute the black for a very dark blue tone. Eyes are brown.

His wardrobe is minimal and standard for Sonic styled males. big simple brown boots and heavy cuffed gloves. Wears a newsie cap.

Weapon of Choice: Generally his hands. When he feels serious, he slips on a pair of narrow, thick knuckledusters.

Personality:  Boxcars is a genial, emotionally intelligent guy. Genuinely friendly and outgoing, he is loud, almost always presenting good humor and quick to laugh a deep belly laugh. This is no lie, nor a ruse. However, Boxcars is also a deeply self-interested person and a consummate survivor. He does what he wants, as he wants, and he’s quick to get out whenever things possibly present too much of a threat. He is an outlaw because it allows him a good fight and a degree of freedom that he craves. Particularly so because he can trust heroic types to always pull punches in ways that more murderous villains do not. Prone to using pet names(Sweetheart, Sunshine, etc) in lieu of names because he never really wants to get too close to people.

Background: Boxcars keeps a lot of his past close to his chest, so most of the detail is not well known. He is originally from Central City and while he didn’t have much to his name, he was always a little bigger and tougher than everyone around him. He learned young that he could leverage that into getting what he wanted through leveraging size and through learning to enjoy a good fight if his target had more mettle than he expected. At times he worked with others, other times he worked solo, but he was never much more than a pugnacious goon. And that was all well and good for him.

Crisis after crisis, Shattered Worlds and Eggman’s conquest, taught Boxcars how to survive while looking out for himself. He knew that groups like The Resistance would only be problems for him once the big threats went away, so he made it a point to keep a low profile and to live in the corners around the greater conflict. While he was a bruiser, he knew people liked you if you were friendly, which was easy for him to be. He never had anything against anyone, it was just that he enjoyed his lifestyle the way it was. He could live meager, and whenever things settled down, he would appear again.

Metal Virus was the same routine to Boxcars. When things went to hell, the badger went underground and out of the way. He maintains that he never once was in danger of being infected. Just another example of whenever the grave danger shows up, Boxcars’ puts his experience into making certain he can avoid having to deal with it as much as possible. Only in the aftermath did Gyre finally seek him out, looking to hire muscle for a robbery of some leftover Eggtech lab. Boxcars saw a predictable egotist, but not a threat. It would be a simple job to help the latest wannabe.

Cathode the Basenji

“. . .no.”

Gender: Female

Affiliation: Gyre

Description: A creamsicle orange canine with pointed ears and a tightly curled tail. Her eyes are a dark blue. She lacks any “head hair”, but has more fluff at the back of her neck to mimic longer ends.

Her outfit is overalls or a jumpsuit, usually tied at the waist, colored blue. 

Weapon of Choice: Homemade shock baton attached to a modified battery pack she carries at her hip.

Personality: Cathode is taciturn, focused, and curious. She consistently holds a high opinion of herself compared to others, primarily because of the high level of priority she places on things she considers “tangible”. Machines, mechanics, math, functional and provable skill are all things that she enjoys. Otherwise, she finds herself in insecure positions and insecure positions are, to her, to be avoided entirely. Other people, with their inconsistency and idiosyncrasies, are troublesome. Her desires are to get her hands on whatever kind of machinery or gear that the likes of Tails and Eggman have created so she can take them apart for her own study. 

Background: Born on a small, isolated island, Cathode’s interest in machines defined a lot of her formative years. She learned to fix and repair the shared equipment of her family and the few other families that shared their small rock of a home. With few other children, she spent most of her time with adults and functioned mostly as a set of hands to help out. Over time, she grew resentful despite her rapidly growing knowledge as the scarce resources and constant repair needs of the aging equipment meant that while she was invaluable, she wasn’t able to spread her wings and truly experiment and tinker.

The news of the great technological advances of Eggman astounded her. She craved getting her hands on those machines. She wanted nothing more than to dissect them, and to learn how they tick. But still she was kept from her desires by the short sighted, pragmatic minds of the others in her village. This bitter resentment was made all the worse when she heard about Tails and the young genius’ capabilities just reminded her of her own stolen opportunity. She blamed the others for needing her, demanding of her, and under the cover of night she slowly dismantled equipment around the island to cobble together a small boat in order to make her escape.

Unfortunately for Cathode, she arrived in Sunset City just in time for the Metal Virus to be dumped upon her.

In the aftermath, she has struggled to find footing. Her interests in getting ahold of Eggtech to dissect has required her to involve herself with shadier figures. When Gyre presented her with the opportunity to get ahold of the real deal, possibly without battle damage, Cathode could hardly pass that up.

Pierce the Wolf

“Every heart pleads for a “better world”, but no two minds can agree on a definition.”

Gender: Male

Affiliation: Eggman Empire

Description: A tall male wolf with leaner, pointier features than normal. Color is primarily a desaturated, pale blue, close to an off-white. He has a small scar on his right cheek underlining his eye Outfit is a standard red and black Eggman Empire uniform. He has an affectation of diamond stud cufflinks added to the uniform

Weapon of choice: Stiletto. One regular, a secondary spring assisted one hidden on his person. 

Personality: Broadly speaking, his personality and demeanor is malleable given the needs of the situation. He will be self effacing one moment, bragging the next. He will be cruel and calculating, or he will present the noblest of faces. Who he seems to be in a moment may not be the person he is in the next. The only truth is that Pierce cares only for himself and what furthers his own ambitions toward power. Everything else is a pawn or a player in the game of power. He is still an empathic person, however, that talent and honed skill is tuned primarily toward his enormous self-interest.

Background: Pierce is from a long standing family of leaders on a small, cold island chain. He was the latest to inherit the charge of his town, having taken over the unofficial but de facto role from his late parents. He found that town leadership was dull and ultimately limited, though he continued with it as was his duty. The global assault by Eggman, however, rocked the wolf’s world deep to the core. He saw in that moment just how small everything around him was. He saw that all he could accomplish was leading a tiny series of specks that were nothing more than crumbs for the real giants to clean up. And he wanted to be one of those giants.

Eggman’s swift success told him plainly that the Empire was the faction in which to throw his lot. It was not difficult to convince his people that it was the best idea. That they were small and not noticeable. Some he promised that they would be overlooked. Some he promised industrial potential in the new Empire. And soon he had followers behind his plan. A false show of support toward GUN. They were struck quickly and Pierce promised their small fishing villages would be safe for them to hide and recover from the devastation. Only to swiftly turn on them, envelop, and claim GUN materiel and hostages for himself. All a present to appease Eggman. His proposal worked well enough. Eggman wasn’t going to be impressed by GUN soldiers or technology, but the kind of social skills and cutthroat cunning could be useful for future endeavors. That said, Eggman also knew that Pierce needed to be separated from his home, and from easily manipulated flesh and blood soldiers as well. Pierce was made an offer, but it would cost him his people and home. Pierce only delayed responding as to not appear too eager.

Pierce found himself repositioned and given a small base of operations and a contingent of badniks. His goal would be to seed himself in the region in preparation for a new invasion. One that would be curtailed when the metal virus infected the world. And while he recovered, he knew then that Eggman was not going to be the one to lose this war in the end. The Doctor was simply too capable in an emergency to be counted on losing. If anything, it told Pierce that his decisions to become and remain an Egg Boss was the right one.

Once again he is returned to his base, still chafing under the provisions given to him by Eggman. He knows he is being watched and controlled. That he is a pawn in a greater game. But he has time. And he has patience. And when he looks out from the window of his quarters, he can see the sparkling lights of the city that is his prey.

#sonic oc #deirdre #Sonic OC Lore #Writing #OC profiles

[tigerlilla]

falling

a daisuga fanfic

summary: “i watched you fall. in your white shirt. and i saw you, i could see you in the white tux you already had picked out, walking down the aisle on our wedding day. i saw your bright yellow socks. your favorite ones, the ones with the little smiley faces on them. i could see you chasing our daughter around the house in those socks. suga, i could see it clear as day, our future together. i could see you in those plaid pants you love so much on your first day of teaching. you looked so happy, suga. i could see you reaching out to me singing “daiiichiii,” in the way i loved. i watched you fall.

inspired by foolish men have tried, but only you have shown me how to love being alive by s_beth on ao3

tw// death, suicide, terrorism, 9/11, grief

—

6:15 am

“suga,” i kiss sugawara’s shoulder, “it’s time to wake up.”

suga murmurs something similar to “no, daichi,” and pulls my arm up against his chest. he’s warm. i want nothing more than to get back in bed and cuddle with him all day long.

“suga,” i sigh and wrestle my arm out his grasp. “wake up, honey. i’m going to make breakfast and you better come out dressed for work in 10 minutes, mkay?”

suga groans.

i walk to the end of the bed, “you leave me no choice.” i yank the blankets off the bed and walk out chuckling, ignoring suga’s protests.

i hum softly to myself as i tie the apron suga got me for my 20th birthday around my waist. it says “kiss the cook” in hot pink glittery letters and has lacy frills on the bottom in a skirt-like shape. i turn on the coffee maker and grab the pancake mix out of the pantry. my body goes into autopilot as i mix the pancake batter and pour it in the skillet. i’ve been flipping pancakes for suga since we roomed together our first year of college.

i hear suga turn on the sink in our bathroom. thank god he’s actually up and getting ready.

i go back to my cooking, flipping the pancakes high up in the air. i’ve perfected the art of pancake flipping. suga and i have always joked that if i wasn’t in the police academy, i should be a cook at the pancake house. i’m sure i’d get great tips from amazed customers.

i hear suga fumble around in our bedroom as i’m putting his pancakes on the plate.

“koushi,” i call, “your breakfast is ready.”

i hear the soft padding of his socks on the wood floor of our apartment, but i pretend i don’t notice him sneaking up behind me.

“good morning,” suga coos into my ear as he kisses my neck. he runs his hands down my hips. i know what he’s trying to do. and i want it, i really do. but i can’t, we can’t. suga can’t be late again or he’ll get fired.

“have you brushed your teeth?” i turn around with a smirk.

suga stands there in his tight, plaid dress pants and his white dress shirt hanging unbuttoned, exposing his pale stomach.

“that’s mean,” suga huffs. “i’ll brush em after i eat my pancakes.”

“blueberry pancakes,” i say with a smile as i hand him the plate, “as always.”

“thank you, dai,” suga says as he kisses my cheek.

“of course,” i smile at him, being careful not to stare for too long. i cant get distracted. suga will take advantage of my moment of weakness.

“so,” suga says as he sips his coffee, “what are you doing on your day off, mr. sawamura?”

i place another pancake on suga’s plate. “i don’t know. what should i do today, mr. sawamura?”

suga giggles, “it’s not mr. sawamura, yet. and i kinda like my last name. maybe you could be mr. sugawara?”

“mmm,” i reply, “we can talk more when you get home from work.”

suga groans, “please don’t make me go, daichi.”

i sigh and run my hands through my hair. “i’m sorry, suga. i don’t want to make you go to work. i can’t make you.”

“i know.” suga walks over to me and cups my cheek in his hand, “it’s okay, baby. one day i’ll be a first grade teacher at our kids school and you’ll be the best police officer on the force. we’ll walk our kids, one girl and one boy, to school each morning. i’ll kiss you goodbye in front of the school and our kids will giggle at us. right now, we’re getting ourselves there, mkay?”

i turn my head and kiss his hand. “mkay. still, i feel bad making you go to a job you hate while i stay home.”

“shush,” suga murmurs. “you work hard at the police academy. you deserve this day off. besides, today will be like every other day: boring as hell. i’ll call you if i get the chance, okay?”

i kiss him in response.

“i gotta go, dai,” suga sighs. “i can’t miss the train.”

“mkay,” i say as i button up his shirt for him. “let me grab your lunch.” i grab his lunch bag off the counter. “have a good day, honey.” i kiss his cheek.

suga hums in approval. “bye, babe. i love you, dai.” he shoves his lunch in his briefcase.

“i love you, suga,” i kiss him.

suga giggles, “you taste like blueberries.”

i smile, “bye, baby, i love you.”

suga blows me a kiss, “i love you more.” suga closes the door behind him.

“i love you most,” i whisper.

————————————

8:51 am, the north tower of the world trade center has been hit.

you have three missed calls and one new message.

tuesday, eight fifty-one am, “daichi, baby, i need you to answer your phone. i don’t know what’s going on, but it sounded like an explosion. call me back as soon as you can, i love you.”

————————————

9:03 am, united airlines flight 175 crashes into the south tower of the world trade center.

you have eight missed calls and two new messages.

tuesday, nine o three am, “daichi, where are you? you’re probably out on a run, but hurry up and get home. i don’t know what’s going on, but i think we might be evacuating. no one really knows what happening- oh my god, oh my god, daichi. please call me back. please. a plane just hit the south tower. i think we’re under attack. be safe, daichi. i love you.

————————————

10:00 am, the south tower has collapsed.

you have seventeen missed calls and one new message.

tuesday, ten am, “daichi, god, daichi. i’m going to die here. i’m going to die. daichi, please call me back. i just wanna hear your voice one more time. call me back.”

————————————

10:05 am

i run up the stairs to our apartment and shove the keys into the lock. my hands are shaking. it takes me a couple tries to unlock the door. i immediately rush to the phone.

shit, shit, shit, shit. i listen to suga’s messages. i call him back.

“please pick up, suga,” i plead. he doesn’t. i get his voicemail.

“suga, suga,” i cry into the phone, “baby, it’ll be okay. i’m here. i’m here baby. i’m here. i love you so much,” my body shakes. “i’m so sorry, suga. i’m so sorry. i was out on a run and then the plane hit and i heard something but i didn’t know what it was and then it took me forever to get back home because,” my voice catches in my throat. “pick up, baby. i love you.”

i rush into the living room and turn on the tv.

————————————

10:17 am

you have 1 missed call and one new message.

tuesday, ten seventeen am, “daichi, i love you. i’m so sorry i missed your call. janice-you know janice? the one i complain about?-she was using my phone to call her son. thank you for leaving a message. i forgive you for not answering. you’re not to blame for anything, daichi. i love you more than anything. remember what i said this morning? about our future life? i want that for you, baby. i want you to have everything, daichi. i want you to have children. i want you to walk them to school. i want you to make all your dreams possible. do it for me, daichi. do it for us. i love you more than anything. i love you more than everything. i love you, daichi. i love you-“

————————————

10:20

“suga, baby,” i cry into the phone, “stop talking like that. call me back. please. please, suga. i love you. you’re gonna be okay. suga,” i sob, “suga, i love you. i love you. and we’re gonna grow old together. i love you so much. please, suga. call me back. i love you.”

i place the receiver back on the machine. i stumble in front of the tv. i can barely see. tears run down my face.

suddenly, everything is clear. i see him. i see him jump. i see his body turn. i see him curled up, facing the bright blue sky, his hands reaching up. his silver hair like a halo around his head. his white dress shirt billowing in the wind. one black shoe, one bright yellow sock. he’s not falling. he’s floating, like an angel.

i crawl closer to the tv screen. screaming his name. the news station cuts away. i curl into a ball and cry. the love of my life. he’s gone. god, why did you take koushi away from me?

my love is gone. my heart is broken.

————————————

10:28 am, the north tower of the world trade center collapses.

————————————

september 20th, 2001

“koushi,” i say into my phone, “i miss you. i’m here. i’m here with you. where you died. i’ve been helping, the whole police academy has been. we’ve been helping with clean up. i keep looking for you. they told me that your body will probably never be found.

i’ve listened to your voicemail messages more times than you can count. i know you told me not to feel guilty, but i can’t help it. you wanted to stay home. what if i said yes? what if i didn’t stop your wandering hands? what if i made you stay home with me? what if i…” i laugh. “you know, suga, i can hear you scolding me, right now. ‘don’t talk like that! i told you not to feel guilty!’ i can hear your voice so clearly. i can see your cute pout.

suga, i’m so glad you left me those voicemails. this way i’ll never forget the sound of your voice. i’ll never forget what you sounded like when you said my name. i’ll never forget that when you said ‘i love you,’ you sang it a bit. i loved it when you did that. i loved it when you told me you loved me.” i wipe the tears from my cheeks.

“i cried constantly for a few days. asahi had to carry me to bed and feed me.” i chuckle. “it was actually kinda funny… if you were here, you’d think it was funny. but you’re not here. you’re not here, suga. and it’s left me broken.

you told me to continue on… without you. but i can’t, suga,” tears continue to fall down my face. “i can’t do it without you. i cant follow my dreams without you. because, suga, you were my dream. you were the only thing i ever wanted, the only thing i ever needed. suga, it was you. it was always you. koushi, you were the light of my life. no, you are the light of my life.”

i smile sadly, “we dreamed of a family. of adopting a boy and a girl. of walking them to school. and grossing them out with our pda. that was our dream, suga, our dream. i cant do it without you. i don’t even think i can live without you, suga. it’s so hard.

i just keep watching. i keep watching you jump. watching you reaching for something just beyond your grasp. what were you reaching for suga? were you reaching for me? were you reaching for heaven? were you reaching for our future,” a sob rips through my chest.

“suga,” i take a breath, “i watched you fall. in your white shirt. and i saw you, i could see you in the white tux you already had picked out, walking down the aisle on our wedding day. i saw your bright yellow socks. your favorite ones, the ones with the little smiley faces on them. i could see you chasing our daughter around the house in those socks. suga, i could see it clear as day, our future together. i could see you in those plaid pants you love so much on your first day of teaching. you looked so happy, suga. i could see you reaching out to me and singing “daiiichiii,” in the way i loved. i watched you fall.

and asahi told me that i’m imagining it. he told me that it’s not you. but who else has silver hair as gorgeous as yours. asahi said that he couldn’t even see what color your socks were. i saw. it was you suga. i know it. and i cant help but feel guilty. i should have answered the phone. i didn’t hear it. i had the stupid tv turned up too loud. why did i have the tv up so loud? how did i miss your call? why did i not stand by the phone, waiting for you to call me back?

and asahi tells me that it wouldn’t have made a difference. that if you hadn’t jumped, you would have died when the building collapsed. and i know he’s right. suga, i know he’s right. and i know that i can’t keep leaving voicemails. i know that you can’t hear them. i know that you’re dead. koushi, i know you’re gone. but how am i supposed to live without the man who’s been by my side since high school? how can i live without the one i love? suga, please, tell me how i can keep on going? tell me, suga.

koushi, when i saw you jump, i knew it was you. i recorded it on vcr. i watch it everyday, multiple times. i’ve gotten over the shock of watching you die. it’s beautiful, you know. you look so beautiful, like an angel. like an angel falling to earth. my angel, falling down to me. every time i see the man jump off the eighty-ninth floor of the north tower, i watch in awe. your hair floating around you, your shirt untucked, one shoe tied too tight, your bright yellow sock, your hand reaching up into the sky. you’re so beautiful, koushi. there you are, my suga, falling. falling into the unknown. i watch as you fall onto the bed on top of me after our wedding. i watch you fall over laughing with our kids. i watch you falling, and i fall in love with you all over again.

my beautiful koushi, i’ll fall into the future, not knowing what it might hold, not knowing if i’ll ever be able to get over this pain in my chest, not knowing if i’ll ever be able to live without you. because, suga, you taught me how.

sugawara koushi, you taught me how to fall. i love you. i love you most of all. and, suga, i’m falling with you, forever and ever. together, we’re falling.”

#sugawara koushi #sugawara #suga #daichi #sawamura daichi #daisuga #hq daichi #hq #daichi x sugawara #sad ending #haikyuu!! #haikyu fanfiction

[markhossain]

Random shots with Nikon F-501

I love Nikon. I've been using it since day one of my photography adventure and I swear by them.

I'll admit that I started photography in DSLRs but I knew the heart of photography lies in those analogue film cameras.So it was only a matter of time I was going to pursue Nikon film cameras once I get the hang of analogue photography.

When you think of Nikon F series F2 and F3 are the legends and its pricey for me as I'm just starting out, so I opted for a second generation of Nikon SLR and when i saw the Nikon F-501

I couldn't resist, the design looks very similar to the beautifully crafted Nikon F3 designed by the legendary Giorgetto Giugiaro (he even designed the Nikon Em series ) It was Giorgetto's design concept to include a red stripe on the hand grip – a feature that would later become (with variants of stripes and various other shapes) a signature feature of many Nikon cameras.

Back to F-501- its such a beautifully balanced camera and feels great when I'm holding it.

The introduction of a poly-carbonate-clad body rather than metal, which caused the camera to be black instead of silver, was the most immediate and obvious change. Also new to this model is the addition of an extended grip on the shutter button side of the camera body, a feature which has grown in subsequent autofocus SLR camera designs ever since.

I like how industrial designs were very rectangular back then as oppose to contoured nowadays; hopefully Nikon will design a newer DSLR in that shape? Perhaphs not. The F-501 is the first Autofocus camera built by Nikon at its tiime and you may think its sluggish but works perfectly with the Af lenses. I've used the Nikkor AF 35-70mm for the shots below and still results are stunning for a zoom lens!

Link:

https://www.lomography.com/homes/markhossain/albums/2173900-random-shots-with-nikon-f-501

#nikonphotography #nikon film camera #nikonf501 #film photography #filmphotography #film #mm #filmisnotdead #analogphotography #photography #mmfilm #analog #filmcamera #filmcommunity #kodak #ishootfilm #streetphotography #mmphotography #filmphoto #bnw #filmisalive #photooftheday #blackandwhite #shootfilm #cinema #cinematography #analogue #filmfeed #fujifilm #portrait

[zody77-blog]

Dead Island 2: The New Kotaku Review

The zombie hack-and-slash game Dead Island 2 has an overly enigmatic backstory. After being launched at E3 in 2014 with a Wizard of Oz-style bombast, Dead Island 2 was hidden from the public for nine years as part of a hot potato game. Its predecessor, Dead Island, established the franchise as a bloody trough of B-movie sensibility. This week's game, which will be released on April 21, is neither the one you'll get in 2014 nor is it the amazing result of nine years of laborious programming. The game underwent "basically a complete restart" until it was ultimately turned over to developer Dambuster Studios, according to Dan Evans-Lawes, technical director at publisher Deep Silver. However, I can overlook the wait. The gorefest Dead Island 2 is exciting. and it only ever slips when it tries to be more than that. I go through it all as Dani, one of the six innately talented playable Slayers you choose early on in the game (I go with Dani since she heals after killing zombies quickly). She stares at her hands closely after learning that zombie bites don't instantly transform her into a maggoty murdering machine as I lead her in first person through the game's sunny but bleeding portrayal of contemporary Los Angeles.

Unleash the beast

She is only an ordinary murdering machine. I keep her moving by adding skill cards I find lying around the city and from killed foes to my editable deck, which is set up in a half-pyramid shape four cards tall. The regular Abilities card type occupies the first five spaces of the pyramid, followed by protective Survivor cards with four slots, and so on down the pyramid. It may not seem like there is much room to customize your Slayer, but I find it simple to work with. There are a ton of cards to find and then select from, each of which affects a different part of your Slayer's offensive, defensive, or autophagic capabilities. The latter are strong powers that cause you to become more of a zombie at the expense of other players of your health. But I frequently don't consider all of my alternatives. I enjoy playing defense, so I keep early Slayer and Abilities cards like The Limb Reaper and Dodge, which stun adversaries when you dodge their attacks, around for the duration of the game. While certain foes are immune to specific attacks—a zombie wearing protective firefighter gear, for instance, doesn't care much for fire-based attacks—skill cards fundamentally alter how you heal, strike, and kick. Increase the power of your sliding attack, press R3 to make your jump kick stronger, and similar stuff. Additionally, testing cards always seem low risks because you can always change or add to your deck, unlike a skill tree or other form of leveling-up system that forces you to use non-refundable points. Dead Island 2 is a game that obviously wants you to kill zombies but doesn't usually care how, so taking a hands-off approach makes sense. As a result, I don't think twice to whack swarms of wandering zombies with my flaming meat cleaver no matter where I am in the game's highly explorable (but not open-world) map of Los Angeles, whether I'm jogging through the soft sand of the Santa Monica Pier, on the crumbling asphalt around abandoned hot dog carts in Venice Beach, or anywhere else. Or, more frequently, my burning meat cleaver, although I always have a weapon nearby. As I go through the game, I find more uncommon weapons, and I modify them by using the few slots available by gathering metal components, cutting tools, and other crafting supplies from the cracked city. I also outfit my guns with absurd modifications using found blueprints and mutant body parts in an effort to uncover the most lethal upgrade combos components, such as Leaky Implants and Infected Flesh, both of which enable the skin-melting, corrosive ooze that shotgun rounds and wakizashi blades shine with. I rapidly become used to the game's most popular goal, "Kill 'em all!" while building up my skill card deck and playing with weaponry, and I am grateful that I don't get sick from video game violence.

According to me, video game carnage is a thrilling haven for horror enthusiasts who can't bear obscene shock locations and Cronenberg skin-ripping. Dead Island 2 is for me like entering air conditioning during a particularly oppressive summer because I cannot tolerate such things, and I find comfortable joy in making successive hits and watching zombies unveil their meat, muscle, and bones. Dead Island 2 never makes me feel scared; instead, it makes me sadistically amused, with the exception of a few yelps I have to suppress when an adversary charges at me as soon as I unlock a closed door. apart from while I'm angry. And I'm annoyed by pretty much every boss battle in Dead Island 2, which, in contrast to its unrestrained, wild zombie encounters, always chooses some obnoxious gimmick that I have to put up with. They're challenging, but unlike the rest of the game, in an unpleasant way. I have to utilize questionable amounts of luck and technique in place of my usual, brute force. The Fury Mode from the earlier games is back, allowing Dani to tear adversaries apart with her bare hands once I've filled the meter up with battles and energy drinks. In one boss battle, it's suggested that I utilize a variety of button-controlled fireworks to succeed, but the flames only have an impact on the boss when it's in the exact correct spot at the exact right moment. I'm even more irritated by the Butcho clown fight that journalists detailed in-game previews from the previous season. Attacks cannot harm Butcho's body in half. Because additional zombies steadily enter the arena as you kill them, Butcho has an endless supply of food to recover with. This allows him to continually regenerate health. As fighting Butcho one restless night, I begin to weep. I'll be the first to say that my fear of clowns and the irritating carnival tune that plays as we fight aren't helping, but I can't stop it The distinction between "get good" and unjust keeps coming to me.

Die, zombie, die!

Butcho is finally defeated by me thanks to what seems like a fluke—a few seconds during which his body writhes and sustains extra harm for no apparent reason. The pace of Dead Island 2 suffers in my opinion because of these more intense role-playing game-style battles, and the game's difficulty level makes it feel obnoxiously more multiplayer-focused in key areas. Due to the fact that I am the only player (the game is still in development), I am appreciative of my victories since they allow me to continue playing along the drama- and blood-filled West Coast of the game. What I want from Dead Island 2 is drama and guts. However, the butchery in the game is genuine enough that I finally start to wonder why it gives me such a rush to kill so many fictitious people. But it's difficult to not feel content when the game continues giving me rewards. I gain experience points (XP) toward leveling up when I finish the game's 24 major chapters, some of the 33 side tasks it offers, locate missing people, and earn challenge accomplishments. Dani's life bar, damage done, and defense gradually rise as I level up, enabling me to complete the main narrative tasks, reach adversaries behind gates (one particularly difficult enemy has a skull hovering over its head), and "match" weapons to specific targets raising standards to new, horrific heights at my level. In addition, when Dani becomes stronger, my previously locked skill card slots automatically unlock. To continue doing all of this, I munch on health-restoring snack bars that fallen opponents have left behind. In addition, as my Dani keeps killing, my knowledge of zombies expands to the size of a medieval bestiary in a collectibles tab that lists the different types I've encountered, such as common Walkers who lose limbs like the leaves of a dried rose, bulging Slobbers who eject caustic slime, meathead Crushes who resemble the Liver King, and so forth. Butchers, Incendiary Walkers, who carry gasoline canisters on their backs, enabling me to cause enormous explosions when I strike them with one of my "curveball" missiles. which have arms resembling constricted bone spurs and deflect nearly all attacks), yet the variety creates engaging, fluid fighting in a game that is overly focused on it. But the game's narrative, which is gradually revealed through notes I find and conversations with the game's numerous characters—people like a drunk, failed rock star, and a chef trapped in zombie hell wearing his apron—recognize my internal conflict regarding finding pleasure in power and violence's unpleasant reality. For instance, when it leaves fast food packaging on a table or preschool art taped to a refrigerator in a random, vacant apartment. These specifics, along with many of the deftly pieced-together tales in the game, show that this city was once secure and populated just a few days prior. You are causing deaths. You have been made to behave brutally by a terrible reality. Therefore, while settings appear lovely, it is in this unsettling way that all of a sudden feels accurate Zombies have taken over. The game features varied blood textures, such as congealed and polished when dried to a wall, matte and extended when submerged into patio furniture, and ambling beach monsters shadowed by lowering peachy sunsets. It's perplexing. Dani is frequently perplexed by the degradation all around her, or, alternatively, she is fiercely indignant at the real power brokers—the governments and the billionaires—who seem content to let death rule. I adore how this game provides a variety of semi-pure enjoyment; if you want it to be, it can be a story with a lesson, or it can just be zombie mayhem. Only when a boss fights in Dead Island 2 transforms from what I've been programmed to think it to be—a dopamine feed—do I ever feel dissatisfied with cycling conflict and payoff. Read the full article

#DeadIsland2 #games #Kotaku

[we202]

APRIL 25, 2022 Does EMS Work For Weight Loss?

Electrical muscle stimulation, or EMS, came to prominence as a supplement to traditional workouts. However, as time passed, it became apparent that it may be a viable alternative to typical gym training.

EMS is a fantastic option for resistance and strength training, and it improves sport-specific abilities and performance, according to clinical trials.

More importantly, however, EMS is slowly gaining ground as an effective alternative to help people get in better shape. It takes little time and helps you reach large-scale goals like weight loss, toning, and building strength.

What is EMS training?

Electrical Muscle Stimulation (EMS), also known as electromyostimulation, is a regimen that uses electrical impulses to directly activate your motor neurons to bring about muscle contractions.

These muscle contractions can either be swift and frequent, fast with extended pauses, or contractions that are held for several seconds or minutes at a time.

How does EMS training work?

Wireless EMS Fitness Training is similar to a conventional EMS Fitness Training; however, we at We202 use a special type of equipment called the power suit. Our We202 Wireless EMS system sends impulses to the receptors in the user’s suit or worn gadgets using Bluetooth technology.

This allows the user or their fitness coach to alter the frequency of electrical impulses delivered to certain muscles throughout different phases of the training process, resulting in a more convenient and seamless workout experience.

During an EMS workout, wireless EMS technology bypasses the brain and transmits involuntary impulses to approximately 95% of all muscle fibers, causing your muscles to contract and relax.

Our trainers control the contraction frequency and strength, which are regulated by the We202 operating EMS system. Because We202 EMS technology is totally wireless, you may enjoy a broader selection of training routines.

Wireless EMS Fitness Training ushers in a new age in health and wellbeing, one that raises the standard for assessing how intense and successful our workout regimens are.

With We202 EMS technology, you can be assured that your exercise will go beyond the surface, affecting your body where it counts the most.

Is EMS actually effective?

Electrostimulation will not assist a person who sits all day to lose weight since, on its own, it only stimulates the muscles without giving them the essential mobility to break up the fibers and help them develop.

Combined with actual physical activity, however, EMS is a fine approach to toning muscles and reducing weight. In fact, weight reduction facilitated by EMS causes the body to burn more calories.

One of the key reasons that EMS is effective for weight reduction is because it aids in the creation of a calorie deficit, which is the primary means of losing weight. A calorie deficit occurs when you expend more calories than you take in.

You may do this by reducing your calorie intake, exercising to burn more calories, or a combination of the two. Nonetheless, EMS has been proven to drastically lessen one’s weight with constant exercise.

In a German clinical trial involving healthy but untrained middle-aged individuals who were made to undergo whole-body EMS, it was found that 87% of the participants entirely changed their attitude regarding their bodies, and 89% of the individuals saw a firmer physique.

Women dropped 1.5 inches on average around the waist and hips. Each male participant lost an average of 2-3 centimeters in waist circumference and 1-2 cm in leg, arm, and chest muscular volume (fat).

After just four weeks on the program, overweight participants dropped an average of 3.5 pounds and 9% body fat, as well as 6.5 inches around the waist and 2 inches in the upper arms.

At the lowest level of exercise, people over the age of 65 lost an average of 6.8% abdominal fat and 6 inches around the waist.

Another example of the effectiveness of EMS may be seen in a 2015 research. This study looked into whether EMS helps you shed body fat instead of examining the fitness level of each participant.

A set of participants underwent 30 minutes of high-frequency current treatment through a series of electrodes put on their tummies in this trial. These classes were held three times a week for six weeks.

The researchers assessed the subject’s waist circumference, body mass index, subcutaneous fat mass (or the fat beneath the skin), and total body fat percentage after six weeks.

Unsurprisingly, EMS had a significant effect on the overall body fat percentage in young women without modifying their exercise or diet, leading the researchers to conclude that the use of high-frequency current therapy may be beneficial for reducing the levels of abdominal obesity.

On the other hand, a study on the effects of pairing EMS with music on the fatness of obese elderly women also yielded positive results. The findings imply that eight weeks of EMS with a graded electrical impulse enhances body composition and cytokines in older obese women.

If that’s not enough to convince you that EMS greatly aids in losing weight, researchers believe that even when just modest microcurrents are delivered to the body, EMS can help repair damaged muscle fibers and minimize cellulite in overweight persons.

The bottom line

Overall, EMS can help you lose weight by assisting your body in entering a calorie deficit. While EMS alone may not always result in weight reduction, when combined with a healthy diet, personal training from EMS specialists, and targeted muscle activation, you will see results.

It’s also worth noting that while food plays a role in weight reduction, We202 is dedicated to making EMS training a complete package with nutrition as an optional add-on. Along with the EMS training, we provide guidance and assistance to people trying to reduce weight.

People use EMS for weight reduction for a variety of reasons, but one of the most prevalent is that it helps them to lose weight with less effort, in less time, and with less pressure on their joints.

EMS is gaining popularity because it allows people to speed up their results and reap all of the advantages of a longer workout in only 20 minutes.

Why not get in touch with We202 today and begin the journey to a better and fitter you?

https://we202.com/does-ems-work-for-weight-loss/

[jocotheoddity]

ranboo’s sunglasses look like a pair of sunglasses i have. i could cosplay as this child. 

but also, i got them at a school event. for free. so if they’re the same glasses, either he likes the fast food restaurant or he’s just a cheap bitch too. 

#this kid has the same voice as like 3 people at my school #which is just fuckin wild #only one of em has a similar body shape #but she's a she/her now #so he aint her #so ive determined this tall child does not go to my school #i reserve the right to call him a child because there is a chance he is younger than me #by like a month or less #but still #any amount is enough