#I’m hunting slowpoke. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fangirlingfromdownunder · 29 days

Text

Comfort in a Family Dinner

Summary - Part 58 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends), Garth x Bess, Sam x Eileen

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: Sorry about the extended break, I ended up needing the week to recover from the trip and meeting J2 (the best weekend of my life FYI). If you ever get lucky enough to get the opportunity to go to a SPN convention, it’s definitely worth it. I loved every minute! But anyway, back to the story at hand…In my mind, the last chapter was gonna be the last one and then this week would be the epilogue. However, I love a good cliffhanger so I couldn’t resist. Looks like we get one more chapter with this lovely couple that I love so much.

While Dean finishes delivering the food to the table you go downstairs with Destiny to get the door. You discreetly check through the peephole in the door before nodding to your little girl and letting her twist the handle. You step back as she pulls the door open.

“Hi, Uncle Sammy!” She says as she runs over to hug his leg.

He kneels down to her height and pulls her into a tight hug. “Hey Kiddo. You gonna give me a tour of your new home?”

Despite having seen the house when he helped move a few of your larger furnishings over, he hasn’t seen the full house in all its glory. Destiny nods enthusiastically and pulls away, but not before grabbing his hand to lead him upstairs. Sam smiles at you and nods in greeting as he’s pulled past you. You smile back as they disappear up the stairs before turning and locking the door.

Once you get back upstairs, Destiny is showing Sam her room, so you go out to the patio where Dean’s leaning on the railing looking out over the dark forest. You quietly sneak up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. He stiffens for a brief second before placing his hands over yours on his stomach.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

“You feel tense, what’s on your mind?”

Dean spins around in your arms so he can wrap his arms around you and look you in the eyes. “Just a lot of changes at once.”

“You regret it?”

He shakes his head and kisses you softly. “Just adjusting. I am gonna miss the adrenaline of a good hunt. But, I’m where I want to be.”

“Once Sam and Eileen get their operation on its feet you’ll get to help them out. And it’s not like you’ll never hunt again. I’m sure the monsters won’t leave us alone forever. I just need you to come home safe. No more dying and being resurrected all the time. This family needs you. So, we just won’t seek it out. Plus, I’m sure we can find other ways for you to burn off your energy and get an adrenaline rush.”

“Yeah? Like?” Dean raises an eyebrow at you as he lets one of his hands wander over your ass cheek and squeezes lightly.

“Hey! You have company! We eating or what?” You hear Sam tease from the doorway.

“We were just waiting for you slowpoke,” Dean jeers back. He kisses you quickly before leading you over to the table and pulling out a chair for you. You smile at him gratefully as you sit down. He takes a seat beside you as Sam and Destiny sit on the opposite side of the table.

“Nice place you guys got here. I’m really happy for you. You both deserve to get out and get a taste of normal,” Sam says as he fills his plate.

“Thanks, Sam. We’re still raising a little wolf, so I don’t know how normal it is,” you say as you smile at Destiny as she bites into her rare steak. “But we’re happy and it’s progress. We wish you all the best for you and Eileen’s venture too. We’re here, whatever you need.”

“Thanks. We’re still working out all the details. That’s actually why she couldn’t come tonight, she’s meeting with some other hunters with Bobby. We want to make the Men of Letters Bunker back into what it once was; a hub of activity and a safe home base for others who grew up like us.”

“You’re gonna be a great leader, Sammy. If you ever need a soldier…” Dean adds with his mouthful, “But you have to promise that none of you hunter buddies, or hunters in training will know about or come after our little monster here. Whatever happens, we will handle it ourselves, as a family.” Dean gives you a stern look to make sure you understand his threat and agree.

You nod before giving Destiny a reassuring smile. Sam nods too. “If you’re still planning to go ahead with that appointment in a few weeks, then I guess this is the only niece I’m gonna get. So, I won’t let anything bad happen to her. You have my word. Family comes first, you taught me that. And family don’t end in blood.”

A comfortable quiet falls over the table as you all eat in peace, having got the few concerns out in the open.

Once you’re all finished eating, Sam helps Dean in the kitchen so they can talk alone while you get Destiny washed up and tucked into bed. Despite her desperate pleas to stay up with you guys, you stay firm by bedtime. Werewolf or not, she’s a child and you plan to raise her as such. You kiss her forehead and switch on the nightlight by her bed before switching off the overhead light and closing the door.

Back in the living room, Sam and Dean finish up cleaning the kitchen just as you come back to join them. Dean pulls you into his embrace the second you're close enough and kisses the top of your head. “She go down easy?”

“Nope, definitely tried her best debate skills. But it’s been a big day and she’s tired, it won’t take long.”

“Well, I’ll let you guys relax from your big day. Thanks for dinner,” Sam says.

“Anytime,” you say.

“Call first,” Dean adds as a warning.

“Of course. Have a good night guys, we’ll be in touch I’m sure.”

“You too, Sam. Try not to get too lonely in that big Bunker alone,” you say.

“I’ll be okay. Thanks.”

You and Dean walk him to the door and wait until his car disappears into the darkness before retreating back inside and locking the door behind you.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” Dean says with his arm wrapped around your waist as he leads you back upstairs.

“Let’s take a bath first,” you counter.

Dean raises his eyebrow, “Or…We could try out the hot tub?”

“Sounds good to me.” You lean up to peck his cheek.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A/N: Another shorter one to end us off. Let me know if you want an epilogue next week. I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican, @fallenlilangel99, @heavenlyhopeful0, @nelachu2423, @ladysparkles78, @canyouimaginethatstory, @mrlonelycat, @roseblue373, @staley83

#dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff

29 notes · View notes

mira-annabelles-poke-kitchen · 6 months

Text

DISCLAIMER: Any discussion of meat on here should be assumed to be synthetic meat or ethically sourced (E.G.: Slowpoke Tails, which fall off naturally without harming the Pokemon). I do not support unnecessary hunting or unethical factory farming.

Hello! I’m Mira Annabelle, a twenty-seven year old travelling chef! I was born in Lumiose City, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to explore the entire world’s culture! Not that I dislike Kalosian food. In fact, I think the abundance of amazing food I got to try growing up was what inspired me to seek out more! Every region has so much amazing food and culture, and my goal is to experience it all!

I am currently working on a cookbook that will focus on fusing various regional foods together, primarily Kalosian and Paldean, as well as some classics from the regions. Please send in suggestions, as learning what you all enjoy will help me narrow my focus.

Currently, I’m enrolled in the Adult Student Program at Uva-Naranja Academy. My project for the Treasure Hunt is, of course, experiencing the cuisine of Paldea! I’m so grateful for the program, as it gives me an opportunity to save on money when it comes to housing. While I’m fine with camping out, I do prefer to have a warm bed available, and hotels can be expensive! I’ve also travelled in Hoenn, Alola, and Galar, and I learned so much about cooking from all of those regions.

Anyway, I’m excited to join Rotomblr and share my culinary journey with all of you!

OOC and Team Under the Cut!

//ooc: Hiya, I'm Xander, 23! I'm a foodie in real life, so I made a blog where I could live vicariously travelling the world and eating tons of good food. Feel free to message me about anything Pokemon or food related, I like making friends!

//Pelliper Mail is on! No magic/mean anons, though!

//Keep it light! No NSFW, nothing heavy, etc.

//Avatar is from this Picrew: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1500446

//Information/Headcanon Document Here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/13BRFIWJgT_i8Vj22Rx1VOMCuwwg6e3xm9xsGuVxINZQ/edit?usp=drivesdk

Team:

Coconuts - A Ludicolo who loves to dance along to music while I cook! She's been especially enjoying all the street musicians we've heard in Paldea!

Pie - An Appletun who's one of the laziest dragons I've ever seen! Maybe I spoiled her with snacks as a baby, because good Xerneas, she eats so much!

Vanilla - A Rainbow-Swirl Alcremie that I evolved using a Love Sweet. I was so dizzy when evolving her, but it was work it! She's beautiful and fiesty!

Honey - A Fidough who's been a riot to train! She has so much energy, I swear, she was born to battle!

Oil - A Smoliv, and she's my newest addition to the team. She's such a sleepy girl.

#pokemon #rotomblr #rotumblr #pokeblog rp #pokeblogging #pokeblr #pokémon #pokemon irl #pokeirl #pkmn irl #irl pokemon

37 notes · View notes

antclan-blogs · 7 months

Text

MOON 1

Rivernose has gotten a stomachache. He also leaped off a rock, but didn’t land quite right.

This moon’s story under the cut!

Rivernose rolled over in his nest, groaning. Of course it had to be today, the day of the Gathering, that his stomach started acting up. Maybe it was just his luck—nothing had been going his way recently, after the exile.

“Would you stop moaning?” Mossgleam snapped from the other side of the den, cleaning the dirt from their paws. “You’ll wake every cat from here to Silverpelt!”

Rivernose only rolled his eyes and turned away from his fellow warrior. It felt as though a million little angry warriors were pounding at his guts, making his stomach ache like never before. Slightstar would never let him go to the Gathering in this condition, he’d have to sit it out.

“I’m on the dawn patrol, lucky me.” Mossgleam sighed to nobody in particular. “At least I’ll be getting away from RiverGROAN.” They cast a resentful glance over their shoulder and pushed their way through the leaf barrier.

Rivernose watched Mossgleam leave the den and let out a mrrow of humourless laughter. Usually he would find Mossgleam’s morning crankiness funny, but it was difficult when he was in such pain.

Suddenly, Chaffinchbounce thrust his head into the den. “Rivernose! Just the cat I was looking for.” The deputy greeted. “I want you on the dawn patrol. We’re hunting today, and you’re our best tracker.”

Rivernose had to restrain himself from clawing Chaffinchbounce’s ear. The dawn patrol? How was his stomach going to heal if he was gallivanting about the territory like a rabid squirrel?

Sighing deeply to show his reluctance, Rivernose heaved himself up and plodded slowly out of the den and into the clearing. Dawn was well upon the camp, pale morning sunlight flickering through the clouds to shine its diluted light onto Rivernose’s pelt. The patrol, which consisted of Chaffinchbounce, Mossgleam and Sunpaw, were waiting for him at the camp entrance.

“Come on, slowpoke!” Chaffinchbounce called cheerfully. “The prey won’t stay in one place forever!”

Rivernose let out a low grumble and followed his fellow cats as they bounded up the grassy slope and out into the open territory. His bones creaked ominously as he ran, warning him to slow down, but Rivernose paid no heed. He was too focused on outrunning this awful stomachache—usually, a good hunt would fix any ailments Rivernose came down with.

Suddenly aware that he was lagging behind the rest of the patrol, Rivernose caught sight of the cocky apprentice Sunpaw casting a boasting glance over her shoulder as she sped ahead of him. Quickening his pace as the cats scampered along the usual sandy path that led to their favourite hunting grounds, Rivernose let himself brush past Sunpaw and, as he gave a smug glance backwards, tripped over a stray tree root and stumbled on his own paws.

Hissing, more out of surprise than actual pain, Rivernose came to a stop and Sunpaw skidded up beside him. “Alright, Rivernose? Going a bit too fast?” She asked cheekily, humour twinkling in her eyes.

“I’ve got half a mind to rake that pelt of yours.” Rivernose muttered, shaking himself out and continuing a little slower than before. Chaffinchbounce fell into step with him, looking just as amused as Sunpaw.

“Take it easy, Rivernose. Don’t want you in the elders den just yet!” Chaffinchbounce chuckled.

Rivernose spat in annoyance: Chaffinchbounce was a whole 10 moons older than he was! Did every cat think of Rivernose as some incapable old badger?

Peering ahead, Rivernose spotted the looming reddish-brown rocks that marked the prey rich area that Antclan knew as Mouseburrows. The massive clump of tall, wide rocks housed many a grass tuft and stone cleft, making it a favourite spot for mice and voles alike.

The patrol began to fan out, each heading for their preferred spot in Mouseburrows. Rivernose watched as Sunpaw clambered to the top of the highest Mouseburrows rock and dropped into a hunting crouch, wiggling her hind quarters before taking a mighty leap and landing neatly on her paws at the foot of the rocks. When she reappeared around the side, she was holding a plump mouse in her jaws and looking very pleased with herself.

Rivernose rolled his eyes. He could do that, easily! He’d show Chaffinchbounce and Sunpaw that he was more than just some bumbling senior warrior. Casting a hostile look down at Sunpaw, he bounded forwards and began slowly pulling himself up the rocks. He was faintly aware of the other members of the patrol stopping to watch him, but didn’t risk looking back at them in case he lost his pawhold.

As he yanked himself up onto the final rock, he scanned the ground below and spotted an unsuspecting rabbit sniffing around a flowering patch of grass just below. Smirking in satisfaction, Rivernose lowered himself into the hunter’s crouch and adjusted himself to leap. 3..2..1..

Rivernose practically threw himself off the rock, soaring through the air and praying to Starclan he wouldn’t land badly. Just as it began to look as though he would actually make it, though, Rivernose caught sight of Sunpaw’s bright orange pelt out of the corner of his eye and was momentarily distracted.

Forgetting to bend his forelegs as he hit the ground, there was a sickening crack and Rivernose felt a shooting pain flash up to his shoulder. Yowling in pain as he rolled over on the dusty earth, his clanmates surrounded him and began prodding fearfully at his dislocated joint.

“What made you think you could pull that off, Rivernose?” Mossgleam was demanding as they sniffed at his crooked leg. “You’re hardly an apprentice anymore!”

Rivernose hissed in seething pain and and fury—his clanmates were never going to respect him again! His joint was almost certainly popped out of place, on top of his raging stomachache.

What was Starclan trying to tell him?

Omg Rivernose is already the clumsiest little silly i love him!!! he’s like 105 moons but my headcanon is that he insists he’s waaay younger than he is.

#warrior cats #antclan #clangen #warrior cats art

26 notes · View notes

kipscorner · 1 year

Text

-- Anything in parentheses (abc) feel free to delete! -- Anything in square brackets [abc] feel free to change! -- This is a long post, so please remember to tag “long post tw” or some kind of varient of the sort so you don’t clog mobile users dashes/people who don’t have “shorten posts.” turned on! :D

“Doesn't this seem like a bit much?”

“This is what Christmas is all about! Can't you feel it?”

“You guys, where are we? I think we should go back.”

“Serves them right, those Yuletide-loving sickly-sweet, nog-sucking cheer mongers!”

“I really don't like them. No, I don't.”

“I've been much too tolerant of these (Whovenile) delinquents and their innocent, victimless pranks.”

“So, they want to get to know me, do they?”

“I guess I could use a little social interaction.”

“Yeah, you bet. Ho, ho, ho, and stuff…”

“You see, [name]? The city is a dangerous place.”

“Now, please, don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.”

“Well, it's just, I look around at you and [Mom] and everyone getting all kerbobbled. Doesn't this seem...superﬂuous?”

“I think they were up on the mountain playing with matches, or defacing public property, or....”

“Take a look at his mailbox, (sweetie). Not a single Christmas card, in or out… Ever!”

“And for the rest of you: Jury duty! Jury duty! Jury duty! Blackmail. Pink slip. Chain letter. Eviction notice. Jury duty!”

“Well, that worked out nicely.”

“[Max], let's go. Our work here is finished.”

“Don't you know you shouldn't take things that don't belong to you? What's your problem? Are you a wild animal?”

“Saving you? Is that what you think I was doing? Wrong-o.”

“You've been practicing your Christmas wrapping! I am so proud of you.”

“My, I've never seen so many beautiful Christmas lights, [Betty Lou!]”

“It's handcrafted and almost 100 years old.”

“Come on, hurry up, Slowpoke.”

“What's that stench? It's fantastic!”

“One man's toxic sludge is another man's potpourri.”

“Did Christmas change or just me?"

“First floor, factory rejects.”

“But we did our worst. And that's all that matters.”

“At least I scared the bejeebles out of that little [girl] at the post office. [She]'ll be scarred for life, if we're lucky.”

“Funny she didn't rat on us, though. Must be afraid of reprisals.”

“If you utter so much as one syllable I'll hunt you down and gut you like a fish!”

“I've got all the company I need right here.”

“I'm an idiot!”

“You're an idiot!”

“Am I just eating because I'm bored?”

“In your own words, please tell me everything you know about [the Grinch.]”

“Hey, honey, our baby is here! He looks just like your boss.”

“It was Christmas Eve, and a strange wind blew that night.”

“Do you want a Christmas cookie?”

“Don't forget, tomorrow is our big Christmas gift exchange.Everyone bring a special gift for a special someone.”

“You don't have a chance with [her].”

“It was a horrible day when they were so cruel to [him]. And I could hardly bear it.”

“And that was the last time we ever saw [him]. The very last time.”

“I hate you.Hate, hate, hate. Hate, hate, hate. Double hate. Loathe entirely!”

“Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!”

“I may do something drastic.”

“You made that up! It doesn't say that.”

“But the book does say: The cheer-meister is the one who deserves a back slap or a toast. And it goes to the soul at Christmas who needs it most."

“Blast this Christmas music. It's joyful and triumphant.”

“The impudence! The audacity! The unmitigated gall!”

“You called down the thunder now, get ready for the boom!”

“Gaze into the face of fear!”

“You see? Even now the terror is welling up inside you.”

“Run for your life before I kill again!”

“Maybe you need a time-out.”

“Kids today. So desensitized by movies and television.”

“"Holiday Whobie-what-y"?”

“I know you hate Christmas, but what if it's all just a misunderstanding?”

“I myself am having some Yuletide doubts.”

“Award? You never mentioned an award!”

“Was anyone emotionally shattered?”

“Come on, a minute ago I couldn't shut you up! Details, details!”

“I don't know if it's that adorable twinkle in your eye or that nonconformist streak that reminds me of a younger, less hairy me.”

“Who knows? This Whobilation could change my entire outlook on life!”

“You can make snow angels later.”

“The nerve of those (Whos). Inviting me down there on such short notice. Even if I wanted to go, my schedule wouldn't allow it.”

“4:00, wallow in self-pity. 4:30, stare into the abyss. 5:00, solve world hunger tell no one. 5:30, jazzercise. 6:30, dinner with me… I can't cancel that again. 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing… I'm booked! If I bumped the loathing to 9:00, I'd have time to lay in bed stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness.”

“It's not a dress, it's a kilt! Sicko!”

“This is ridiculous. If I can't find something nice to wear, I'm not going! That's it, I'm not going.”

“Ohh, ahh, mmm… That's it, I'm not going.”

“[He] isn't here. What? [He] didn't show? Who could have predicted this?

“All right. I'll swing by for a minute, allow them to envy me grab a handful of popcorn shrimp, and blow out of there.”

“But what if it's a cruel prank? What if it's a cash bar? How dare they!”

“All right, I'll go. But I'll be fashionably late.”

“All right. I've made my decision! I'm going, and that's that!”

“Come on, while I'm young!”

“But first, a little family reunion.”

“Are you two still living?”

“Sweater? What are you talkin' about? No, I can't! I can't do that!”

“No. I can't do it, honestly. I'm not ready. It's too much, too soon!”

“I've got a lawyer. There'll be hell to pay!”

“Look at the time. I really should be getting back.”

“Bring it on! Is that all you got? Is that all you got? Come on!”

“That's what it's all about, isn't it? That's what it's always been about!”

“Look, I don't want to make waves, but this whole Christmas season is stupid, stupid, stupid!”

“There is, however one teeny-tiny Christmas tradition I find quite meaningful. Mistletoe.”

“Burn, baby! Burn!”

“Evening, folks. Mind if I ride along? You might want to scooch over.”

“You fellas all right? How about a nice hat?”

“I'm hurt, [Lou]. I'm hurt, and I don't hurt easily.”

“But you and your family.... I'm so disappointed.”

“I just wanted everybody to be together for Christmas.”

“Suffering snorkelblatz! They're relentless!”

“Oh, no. I'm speaking in rhyme!”

“I must stop this whole thing. Why for year after year I've put up with it now.”

“Are you having a holly, jolly Christmas? Wrong-o!”

“If you're not going to help me then you might as well…”

“You're as cuddly as a cactus and as charming as an eel.”

“Just face the music, you're a monster.”

“Your heart's an empty hole.”

“I asked for three-quarters, not five-eighths. Stay focused!”

“Air bag is a little slow. But that's what these tests are for!”

“Talk about a recluse. He only comes out once a year, and he never catches any flak for it!”

“Probably lives up there to avoid the taxes.”

“No, forget that part. We'll improvise.”

“Saving Christmas was a lousy ending. Way too commercial.”

“We're gonna die! We're gonna die! I'm going to throw up, and then I'm gonna die!”

“[Mommy], tell it to stop!”

“Almost lost my cool there.”

“It's Santa! Go right back to sleep.”

“[He]'s planning a double-twisting interrupted forward-flying 2-and-a-half with a combo tuck and pike. High degree of difficulty.”

“Blasted water weight! Goes right to my hips.”

“Okay, fellas. Show time.”

“[Mr. Santa], what are you doing with our tree?”

“[Santa], what's Christmas really about?”

“I know [he]'s mean and hairy and smelly. [His] hands might be cold and clammy. But I think [he]'s actually kind of sweet.”

“Nice kid. Bad judge of character.”

“Clearance sale. Everything must go.”

“That wasn't so bad, was it, [Max]?”

“What an embarrassment! I've been robbed!”

“I wonder who could have done this.”

“But did anyone listen to me? No.”

“[Cindy], I hope you're very proud of what you've done.”

“You're glad. You're glad everything is gone. You're glad that [the Grinch] virtually wrecked.... No, not wrecked, pulverized Christmas. Is that what I'm hearing?”

“You can't hurt Christmas, [Mr. Mayor], because it isn't about the gifts or the contests or the fancy lights. That's what [Cindy]'s been trying to tell everyone! And me. [She]'s been trying to tell me.”

“What's wrong with you? This is a child!”

“[She]'s my child. And she happens to be right, by the way.”

“I don't need anything more for Christmas than this right here, my family!”

“Now for the final note in my symphony of downright nasty not-niceness! The crescendo of my odious opus! The wailing and the gnashing of teeth. The bellowing of the bitterly bummed out! It'll be like music to my ears!”

“Somehow or other, it came Just the same!”

“How could it be so? It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!”

“Maybe Christmas doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

“Help me! I'm feeling!”

“What's happening to me? I'm all toasty inside. And I'm leaking?”

“All right, that's enough! Knock it off! beat it! Get out of here! One step at a time!

“Wait! This can't happen! It shouldn't! It couldn't! It mustn't! It wouldn't! Not now, not then, not ever again!”

“What are you doing up there!?”

“I came to see you. No one should be alone on Christmas.”

“I got you, [Cindy Lou]!”

“Are you kiddin'? The sun is bright and the powder's bitchin'!”

“Now scoot over! It's my turn to drive!”

“Now you listen to me, [young] [lady]! Even if we're horribly mangled there'll be no sad faces on Christmas.”

“By the way, these lights match your outfit perfectly.”

“This could be more difficult to negotiate.”

“Out of the way! I have no insurance!”

“Run for your lives! Watch out, I can't stop!”

“Aren't you gonna cuff me? Put me in a choke hold? Blind me with pepper spray?”

“Sorry but my heart belongs to someone else.”

“Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.”

“There's nothin' like the holidays.”

“Too late! That'll be mine.”

#rp meme #inbox meme #sentence starters #the grinch meme #christmas inbox meme

126 notes · View notes

askthejourneysgang · 9 months

Note

I’m a huge fan I’m giving you each a totally not noodle obsessed slowpoke *finishes the sentence just as the slowpokes hunt for noodles*

Goh: S-Slowpokes?

Ash: I love their dopey faces! Let's hunt for noodle trees together, little Slowpoke

Chloe (holding her Slowpoke by the tail): Are these some kind of otter?

Goh: I don't like Slowpokes... they bring up, uh... bad memories.

Could be worse, though. They could have given us Slowkings instead

7 notes · View notes

dragonologist-phd · 10 months

Note

🎪 for Cleo?

thank you!!

Send a symbol for a scene from my muse’s childhood

🎪 for a scene about travel

also on ao3

“Are we there yet?”

Cleo rolls her eyes. The question comes from her cousin, Alder, and it’s gotta be the fifth time he’s asked that since they crossed the river just an hour ago. And just like the four times before, Cleo’s mother gives the same answer.

“Almost.”

Alder groans, and Cleo turns to stick her tongue out at him. “It’s not that bad, slowpoke!”

“It’s cold,” he insists, kicking at the snow covering the trail. The snow is getting thicker and thicker as the tribe continues up the mountain, and Alder nearly trips as his foot sticks in the deep powder. Cleo snickers, and Alder grabs a fistful of the snow to throw at hear head.

“Alder, sticking your hands in the snow is just going to make you colder. And Cleo, put that tongue back in your mouth before it freezes like that.”

Despite the scolding, Cleo knows her mother isn’t really cross with them- when she’s really mad, she gets loud and shouty. But right now, her voice is still calm, so Cleo waits until she looks away and then sticks her tongue out one more time in Alder’s direction. For good measure.

This time, Alder dutifully ignores Cleo’s taunting. He’s no fun that way.

“How close is almost there?”

Cleo’s mother takes a moment to survey the landscape below. “See that spot on the ridge down there? We need to make it to that site before sundown. That’s where the best hunting will be once winter fully sets in.”

Alder and Cleo both stop in their tracks to lift up as tall as they can and try to catch sight of their destination. From their vantage on the mountainside, they can see for miles around- that’s why the tribe takes this route every year. But this is the first year that Cleo and Alder have been deemed old enough to walk the whole way, instead of being confined in the wagons with the supplies. Alder may be whining about it, but Cleo intends to prove to her mother that she’s just as tough as any other member of the tribe.

But even she has to admit…when she sees how far the winter site still is, her stomach sinks a little.

“That’s a long ways,” Alder groans.

Cleo’s feet ache in agreement. But she sticks her chin up anyway, and with as much force as she can muster declares, “It’s not that long a ways. I’m not even tired!”

“Liar! You are, too!”

“Stop crying and come on!” Cleo grabs her cousin’s hand and pulls him forward- but between his reluctance and the deep snow, she stumbles and ends up pulling them both to the ground.

“Cleo!” Alder cries, and Cleo would snap back if her mouth weren’t full of snow. Okay, so maybe running the rest of the way isn’t the best idea.

Cleo soon finds herself lifted off the ground by her mother’s strong hands, and though she squirms against her, she admits it’s nice be off her own feet.

“You’re sure you’re not tired, munchkin?” her mother asks.

“Yes! I’m not-”

A stiff wind interrupted her words. The cold snow has seeped through her cloak now, and she can’t fight back a shiver. Her mother chuckles again and says, “Okay, munchkin. How about we take a break?”

Cleo gets ready to put up a fight against being taken back to the wagons- but instead, her mother lifts her higher, Ceo ends up settled on her shoulders. As soon as Cleo grabs hold of her neck, she begins to shift; her shoulders widen, her stance lowers, and thick fur sprouts beneath Cleo’s fingers.

When she’s done, Cleo is settled between the shoulder blades of a large brown grizzly bear.

The bear-mother kneels to the ground and gives a low rumble from the back of her throat, and Alder scrambles up to her as well. He clambers onto her back and settles himself behind Cleo, and although Cleo is tempted to leap back to the ground- and maybe shove Alder off too, while she’s at it- she can’t deny it that it’s pretty comfy here. Her mother’s grizzly fur is soft and warm, and she ambles down the path at a pace quicker than either Cleo or Alder could manage on their own.

I’ll just stay here for a little while, Cleo thinks to herself as she snuggles deeper into her mother’s fur. A yawn slips from her lips without permission, and she rests her head against her mother’s back as she watches the snow fall around them. Just a little while.

#thanks for the ask!#ch: cleo

7 notes · View notes

lamenthria-if · 4 months

Text

While camping for the night,

MC successfully hunts for a chicken, brings it to their campsite, and hands it to RO:

----

S: I see that your skills are progressing. MC: Or I’m just hungry enough to use my skills to find meat. S: Either way, I’m happy that you are learning and applying what you learn. (puts chicken inside a casserole, snaps their fingers, and the meat cooks instantly) MC: Showoff…

----

K: Aha! My protege is finally showing their skills. MC: Or I’m just hungry enough to use my skills to find meat on my own - because someone is still trying to hunt a deer. K: Bigger meat, fuller tummy! But allow me to help… (meticulously and methodically slices meat) MC: Slowpoke…

----

C: I’m so proud of you. MC: I’m really hungry and figured I’ll have to pull my own weight around here. C: Hey, we’re here to help. (smiles, and all of a sudden THWAACK!) MC: (stares wide-eyed at the chicken head rolling on the ground)

#interactive fiction #if: wip #snippet #The Unwilling Sword of Lamenthria #philippines

4 notes · View notes

mzoyagon · 1 year

Text

Some lore (which can also double as a headcanon) for my SABA AU!

Note for this post: I will be using any pronouns for Vex, due to headcanoning him as genderfluid.

Based off of @dognightmare4 's idea that Vex takes different forms based on what is feared the most at the time, I began imagining what a prehistoric Craftworld would look like for him (ignoring Sackboy's Prehistoric Moves since I know nothing about it + I think it takes place during the age of dinosaurs while this is more about the beginnings of humanity). I pictured a cold and dark time ruled by a creature commonly known as the saber toothed tiger (which is actually just called a saber toothed cat, they’re not related to tigers). This must have been the first thing to be widely feared right? So I doodled up a baby version of Vex, basing him off of that creature…

Meet the greatest predator of early Craftworld. Though yet to be known as the master of the Uproar, Vex already had a reputation from kittenhood to the point of being considered the strongest creature of the Uproar. They would hunt smaller creatures for food and sport, their attacks being considered a natural part of Craftworld's life cycle. These hunts, which would supposedly go on for days and nights on end until Vex was satisfied, instilled terror and wonder in the denizens of Craftworld, compelling them to revere and even worship them. Research by the modern-day Institute of Craftworld Knowledge (ICK) has shown a possibility that when someone was caught by Vex they would bow down and pray to them, not for mercy from death but peace in the afterlife.

"But Mzoya, who were these 'someone's?"

Hang on, I’m getting there.

Vex's favorite snacks were none other than the ancestors of what we now call Sackpeople. Back in the day, they were made from leaves, petals, and stems from various plants, earning them the name Plantlings. Because of Vex's predation, they were always on the move, the slowpokes being the ones that would become its next meal. This made the ones that survived evolve to become agile both on land and in water, but they still had one major weakness: the cold. Each winter, they would huddle up to whatever warmth they could find, but many would still wither and die. Once plentiful all throughout Craftworld, Vex and the cold combined caused their numbers to dwindle until they became endangered. However, they were an intelligent and crafty kind, one day learning the key to their descendants' survival: fabric. They had observed that emerging species made of various fleeces and fabrics could survive the winter much easier, even if many were unable to swim like Plantlings could. With this knowledge in mind, the first Sacklings were stitched. The following winter, the last Plantlings died out, but Sackpeople live on to this day, carrying with them the legacy of their flowery ancestors.

As time went by, Vex's innocence would be whittled away by her peers, who wanted to bring a fate crueler than death to other kinds. They would convince her of things that can only be left up to imagination, with the goal of influencing her to push the balance of dreams and nightmares in favor of nightmares (see my previous post on the subject). The young feline, impressionable and knowing little about her prey, accepted their "guidance", leading the Uproar to become more and more cruel. Eventually Vex took the form of a demon as demons became more feared than the now-extinct creature she was born as, and by that time she was acting the part too. This series of events changed not just the Uproar, but all of Craftworld for the worse. In order to combat Vex, a brave Sackling would wield the energy of dreamer orbs to dispel to Uproar and protect Craftworld. Such began the legacy of the Knitted Knights.

(Side note: My gods I love using she/her pronouns for Vex.)

So yeah, that’s how Nightmares (uproar creatures) and Sackpeople became what they are today lol

#sackboy: a big adventure #saba #mzoyart #saba au #untame uproar #mzoyaverse #headcanons #headcanon #saba vex

20 notes · View notes

lovevalley45 · 6 months

Text

#fictober23 day eleven

"You lost it. Well, we lost it."

original fiction (dungeons and dragons)

word count: 975

Many wondered how someone who was built as large and sturdy as the tree he was born from could make such an effective rogue. Darius’ answer for them was fairly simple - his first lessons in stealth had been trailing after his mother on her hunts. He had learned to make his footfalls light, to know the best shadows and nooks to find and stake out his prey. Even when fighting the great Kentimane, he had evaded his hits simply by slipping in and out of the abandoned buildings of Mytros.

Although that battle had been the last big fight Darius had aimed his bow in for years, his stealth skills were not getting rusty. Well, not completely.

In the thickets of the Old Woods, Darius crept towards a hare as it ate. His feet made no sound amongst the fallen leaves. Sarissa had asked him if he wanted her to craft his a cloak of elvenkind and he had refused, taking her up on her offer of a pair of silver bracers of archery instead. Underneath the deep purple fabric of his ordinary cloak, the thin threads of sunlight didn’t catch against the heart-shaped engravings, letting him blend further into the darkness of the forest.

However, they did glint against a pair of silver dragon wings, coming in from behind him to try to take a dive at the hare. Olea’s swoop was met with disappointment, as the hare heard the rush of wind and scampered off. The wyrmling barely stopped herself from tumbling amongst the leaves, claws digging into the earth.

“You lost it,” Darius said. “Well, we lost it.”

“Me? I’m not your tracking dragon,” Olea said. The dragon had grown substantially since he’d first been gifted her from Vallus. She could no longer drape herself around his shoulders, though she had tried for as long as she could until she nearly broken his back.

“Then my training isn’t paying off.”

She snorted, cold air blasting out of her nostrils. “You just don’t give me enough incentive.”

“Incentive?” Darius asked. “What, letting you eat our dinner?”

Olea placed her front claws against one of the trees and stretched her back like a cat. “Exactly.”

He rubbed one of her ebony horns. “Let’s go back to the cottage and see if any of my sycophants are around, huh?

She grinned, sharp teeth peaking from her maws. “Wanna race?”

“That’s not fair, you’ll just beat me,” Darius said, slightly whining.

Still grinning, she flew up to the lowest branch of the tree. “And you’re supposed to be one of the new Dragonlords.” With that, she launched herself into flight.

“Fine. If that’s how it’s gonna be.”

Darius shouldered his bow and started off in a sprint. He was swift when required of him, but by the time he lost sight of Olea, he had to stop to catch his breath. He adjusted his cloak, making sure the heart shaped pin was still in place, and hurried back to his cottage.

Olea was already in her spot atop the roof when he arrived, tail dangling off the edge.

“There you are, slowpoke,” she hissed in Draconic.

“You know I’m a hiding rogue, not a running rogue,” he replied back. The sounds of Draconic were still hard for him to twist his tongue around, but Olea liked to make sure he kept with it. Just as he did with her Sylvan, switching to his native tongue to ask, “Percy didn’t get in, did he?”

“It’s 2 PM,” she replied, not missing a beat. “That’s way too late for him to be stumbling in.”

Darius wasn’t so sure about that, but he opened the door to find it empty. “Thank Vallus,” he muttered.

Olea landed onto the ground beside him. “Isn’t it weird to still say prayers to your friend’s wife?”

He scrunched his nose. “Don’t remind me.” Turning to her, he said, “Go find yourself some squirrels or something to torment.”

“I’m above tormenting squirrels, thank you very much,” she said. “But if you want some peace, you can have it.”

Darius watched her fly back up to the roof, then launch herself into one of the trees surrounding his cottage. He knew that forests weren’t where silver dragons chose to dwell, but Olea had made herself comfortable.

He went inside, ready to close the door, when another dryad came running from the woods. It was hard to tell a dryad’s age, but she looked young, not fully mature. She stopped in front of his door, out of breath. “A letter. Someone sent you a letter, Captain Darius.”

He bit his tongue on correcting her as he took it. “Thanks. Who’s it from?”

“Another nymph. Oread.”

Darius turned it over to read the back. In fact, it was addressed to “Captain Darius”, but he knew the name of the sender. “Echo,” he muttered. “I wondered when we’d meet.” He looked back up at the dryad. “Would you like to come in for some water or tea or something?”

“I’d be honored, but I have to pass. I have to get back to the village.”

“Right,” he said. “Hold on a sec.” He dipped back inside, setting the letter down and pulling out the chest from under his bed. Darius opened it and pulled out a few gold pieces before he shoved it back. He went back to the door and held out the gold. “Here you go.”

The dryad’s eyes nearly popped out of her hand. “Oh, Captain, it’s too much.”

“Take it,” he said. “You came all the way out here.”

She accepted the gold, holding it close to her chest. “Thank you,” she said, still breathless but with joy.

As he shut the door, Darius grabbed the dagger from his side and cut the envelope open.

Finally, some fun. Time to go back on the hunt.

#alli writes shit #fictober23 #alli plays dnd #my mans got his timeskip and he spent it building himself a house in the woods #i schedule all of these so i have to add the important context that i finished this one. literally within three hours of a dnd session #FRESH IN MY MIND

2 notes · View notes

the-tangle-web · 2 years

Text

Teenage Anthropomorphic Masked Turtle?

Look left,

Look right,

Nothing?

Good.

The masked vigilante shot a web at a building and jumped off the ledge, grabbing onto the web and swinging over to another rooftop where he was met with a familiar figure that turned to face him.

It wasn’t uneasy anymore looking at Gareth when he’s in his vampire form (or, as Gareth has dubbed it, ‘Morbin Time’). His face wasn’t as smushed in as the other infamous vampire roaming around the city. It just made his eyes glowing yellow and his skin a nasty grey with dark black veins and gave him some claws and almost animalistic qualities. At first, it was hard to adjust to, now? It was normal. Anthony would joke that some would say this form is more visually pleasing than Gareth’s human form.

“What took ya so long, slowpoke?” The vampire taunted with his arms crossed, “me and Carnage were going to go hunting without ya,”

“You know I have business to attend to each night,” Tangle Web responded, turning his head to a sudden noise, white visors narrowing,

Carnage leaped down from a taller rooftop and settled his footing, looking down at the two other figures,

“Gabe would have suggested we leave faster if Gareth did not insist on waiting…” the symbiote hissed through his teeth.

Tangle Web rolled his eyes, “I’m here now, aren’t I? What are we waiting fo-“

Something’s wrong

A voice in the back of his mind told him, buzzing for him to answer its plea. Tangle Web whipped his head around, stalking to the edge of the rooftop. Gareth had called out to him, but it fell on deaf ears as the vigilante followed his senses. What was out of place?

He shot a web at a close by building and swung on the side of the wall, sticking to it and looking down into a dark alleyway.

There, something’s wrong

His senses buzzed. It wasn’t urgent, but it was strange. It was out of place. Anything unfamiliar struck a nerve in the Tangle Web’s senses. He jumped down from the wall and landed on the concrete, facing the alleyway. He trudged forward, shoulders back, hand moving to his belt and moving his hoodie out of the way to reveal a gun handle in its holder.

Tangle Web took a few more steps forward, visors narrowing, letting a low hiss escape from the back of his throat as his fangs pushed out from his gums under his mask.

He didn’t even have to announce his presence before the creature revealed itself, to focused on the boxes of pizza it was holding to notice the taller vigilante in front of it until…

Tangle Web made eye contact with a…. Turtle? An anthropomorphic turtle? A red eared slider turtle (don’t ask how he knows, he has random extensive knowledge on turtles) with a blue ninja like mask on with cut out eye holes and two katanas (he wants to say, but not for sure, he has no knowledge on swords or katanas) strapped to its back.

They stared at each other, Tangle Web’s visors going wide, so did the turtle’s.

Then…

“AAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Gareth rounded the corner with his phone, flash on to peer into the dark alley, approaching the Tangle Web, not looking up until…

“Damn! What the fuck dude?! You left us in the du-“ he looked up and saw the creature…

He pointed with his free hand violently at the blue clad turtle, eyes wide, joining in on the screaming as he shined his flash on the turtle, “AAAAAAAAAAH!”

Carnage dropped down behind a screamin Gareth, Tangle Web, “What the fuOAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

The blue clad turtle’s scream got a bit more high pitched as the symbiote landed behind the other two strange figures, clutching the boxes for dear life as they all screamed at each other in terror.

The turtle fumbled for one of its swords and created a portal and fell back into it, holding the boxes,

“HOLY FUCK, OH FUCK!” Gareth screamed, “IT TELEPORTS! IT MOVED!”

Tangle Web pushed Gareth’s shoulder to leave the alley, “GOGOGOGOGO!”

“LEAVE! IT’S HAUNTED! WE GOTTA GO!”

Gareth’s screaming turned into crying laughter as the other two continued to scream and scramble at each other and sprinted out of the alleyway.

. . .

Leonardo fell back onto his shell, back into the living room as the boxes fell on his chest. He was panting like crazy. Then, he shoved the pizza boxes off of himself and scrambled upward, calling out,

“GUYS!?”

#the tangle web #spider oc #writing #67889 tmnt #Gareth Fletcher #Gabriel Todd #67889 Carnage

5 notes · View notes

pkmntrainerrichiesblog · 2 years

Text

What’s Your Deal, Slowpoke?

I’ve been observing Slowpoke, Slowbro, and Slowking in the wild to try and figure out a mystery that has been bugging me for some time now.

To recap:

Around XX96, the mystery of Slowpoke’s evolution was supposedly solved when it was discovered that it evolves when a Shellder clamps down on its tail. This causes Shellder to take on a spiral shape which adds weight to Slowpoke’s rear and allows it to stand on two legs. The symbiotic relationship that is formed gives Slowbro access to its forearms and Shellder access to food. The added work of having to hunt by swimming instead of fishing and being in an upright position also stimulates Slowbro’s brain.

However, there are reports that when the Shellder falls off, Slowbro returns to being a Slowpoke. This goes against twenty-odd years of research into Pokémon evolution! A Pokémon can only evolve, it cannot “un-evolve”. A Pokémon that changes shape and is able to change back again is considered to have changed its “form”, a process different from evolution. So what is happening with Slowpoke and Shellder? Frustratingly, the scientific community doesn’t seem to find this strange. I’m determined to find out why Slowpoke is able to defy the laws of Pokémon evolution like this.

I feel like I had a breakthrough today, though.

I visited a location in the Johto region where I observed Slowpoke performing some sort of ritual wherein a suitably inspired Slowpoke (something that could take hours or even days) would attempt to swim across a lake to obtain a King’s Rock (another mystery - what role does the King’s Rock play in Slowpoke’s evolution into Slowking? Why does Shellder latch on to it?). This lake was full of Shellder, all hungry for some tasty Slowpoke tails.

The Slowpoke seemed to understand that once a Shellder latched onto its tail, it would evolve into Slowbro and be unable to evolve into Slowking. Anyone who understands the basics of Pokémon evolution would of course understand this. A Pokémon with a branched evolution can only evolve into one of its possible forms and there is no going back to try again. Except... We’ve been told since XX96 that Slowbro can do just that! Yet these Slowpoke themselves disagree. They try their darndest to avoid being bitten by Shellder until they obtain that King’s Rock.

The Slowpoke would not let me simply collect the King’s Rock for them. This was a ritual. As I watched, I found myself idly tossing berries into the water. This riled up the Shellder, who became distracted. Thus, a Slowpoke (after quite some deliberation) found itself inspired to attempt the challenge. It swam faster than any Slowpoke I’ve ever seen! Unfortunately, when it pulled itself out of the water to collect the King’s Rock, it was revealed to have evolved into Slowbro. A disappointing defeat to be sure. As the realisation set in, Slowbro proceeded to try and shake off the Shellder to no avail. I wondered if it would allow me to attempt to remove the Shellder, and my Lucario - extremely talented in turning the emotional inflections of Aura into understandable communication - helped me to convey my intentions. Slowbro is very hard to communicate with due to its slow wit and often forgets that it is having a conversation in the first place, which has foiled my attempts to get answers from the source numerous times. Asking this of it was much easier than asking about its evolution, however, and it allowed Lucario and I to attempt to remove the Shellder.

Our attempts to pull Shellder off of Slowbro failed. The Shellder was determined to stay affixed to Slowbro, to the point where it bit down hard on Slowbro’s tail. When the shock set in, Slowbro fled. We were unable to prove whether or not Slowbro can revert to Slowpoke this way. However, much like a bitten Slowbro, I found myself inspired. I fled to a library.

Checking early records of Slowpoke, I discovered that some illustrations depict it with a yellow underbelly. This is a trait held by Slowbro and Slowking, not Slowpoke.

Ahah! A hypothesis is formed!

I believe that early researchers were mistaken when they thought Slowbro capable of reverting to Slowpoke. I think they saw what they thought were Slowpoke with yellow underbellies, but were in fact Slowbro!

I think if Shellder does become removed from its host, the Hermit Crab Pokémon remains fundamentally and biologically different from the Dopey Pokémon and therefore cannot evolve again.

So now my goal is to prove my hypothesis. I need to find a “Slowpoke” with a yellow belly so that I can prove its true identity as a Slowbro! This discovery could shake the foundations of the scientific world! Well... Maybe not.

There are still a lot of other angles to examine.

What happens to Shellder when it falls off, if such a thing can happen?

Why do Shellder latch on to the arm of Galarian Slowpoke instead of its tail?

Has Shellder evolved or changed form?

What exactly is Shellder and Slowpoke’s relationship?

Of course, I might not even be right about my hypothesis... Still no solid answers!

#pokemon #slowbro #slowpoke #shellder #pkmntrainerrichie #pokemon research #psychic pokemon #water pokemon

2 notes · View notes

rlxtechoff · 6 hours

Text

#IFTTT #Blogger

0 notes

coconutcows · 4 months

Text

I was hoping for 3 shiny Chespin during this wrap up and I haven’t found a single one 😭

I got my Shiny Slowpoke for my Slowking, 3 Shiny Galarian Slowpoke, and lots of others but I was hoping to also find 3 shiny Swinub (no big deal over these as they should be relatively painless to hunt in PLA) and 3 Shiny Chespin but I didn’t even find a single one (my dad did and he said he’d trade it to me) but now I’m gonna have to Hunt Chespin in Indigo Disk

#Personal Shiny Hunt

0 notes

kariachi · 1 year

Text

Assuming Slowpoke’s tail makes up about a fifth of it’s body weight (which doesn’t seem a bad assumption given the images of Slowpoke we have) and that not all of the tail falls off, the harvested tail of a Slowpoke could be estimated to weigh about 10-12 lbs (4.5-5.4 kg).

The pokedex states these tails often fall off and can be easily found lying around, it also states that their tails grow back. Lizard tails seem to take about nine weeks to grow back, and since these tails just fall off and can be found laying around- while if they’re taken by predators they’re more likely to be, ya know, eaten- presumably this isn’t a matter tied to trauma but more to a natural cycle. Why, I don’t know, why do Veluza filet themselves to gain speed, pokemon are weird. For our purposes we’re going to put in on level with molting- just a thing critters do when a part wears out. Maybe their tails get calloused and can’t do that ‘lure fish’ thing anymore so they toss them and start over. They’re not an active species and do everything extremely slowly, so their food requirements should be lower anyway. This supposedly happens ‘often’ so probably a few times a year.

So, let’s say they shed twice a year, which would mean they spend about a third of the year without a tail if we go with lizard numbers. While they do fish for their food using their tails, we also know that they’re omnivorous, that they will also actively hunt fish, and that they live in groups (thanks to Galarian Slowpoke, unsourced information from Bulbapedia likely determined from the ability to catch Slowpoke with a fishing rod yourself, and via the anime respectively). These combined their lower food requirements can probably account for them not starving over the several months they’re functionally tailless.

Now most of the weight of that tail probably isn’t meat, since it’s the end of the tail your mostly getting. Probably most is fat and bone. But that doesn’t make too big a difference in edibility- you can’t eat bone, but fat is free game and there is definitely meat there to play with. Say a third of it is probably meat, by weight, giving us 3.3-4 lbs (1.4-1.8 kg) of meat per tail. That means enough to feed 6-8 people if you’re cooking it for one meal where the meat’s the main focus. So, at least 14 meals per Slowpoke per year.

Which then leaves us with the question- can you farm these little bastards? Well, yeah presumably you can, can you farm them cost-effectively and humanely? Like, you could feed a family of 3 a weekly Slowpoke meal off 13 Slowpoke, but would the cost of care overwhelm the worth of the meat? Is this something where you have to get it in the wild to remain cost effective? The existence of them as an item you can purchase in Sword and Shield would imply that they’re collected en masse, but given it’s one of the most expensive ingredients available that may imply that they’re either farmed in low numbers or wild gathered. Or it may simply be in relation to the size of the items (the hard-boiled egg is large enough to have clearly come from a Chansey or Blissey, the cheese is a full wheel of soft cheese, the fruit bunch isn’t especially big but is clearly supposed to have been imported and have more variety than just the bananas shown). For a piece of prepared, bone-in meat that size the price may in fact be reasonable.

Hm... Okay, we poke at math. Typically, when I’m converting numbers from pokemon to the real world (though I try not to, I like math far less than this blog would attest) I normally put a decimal before the last two digits to convert to American, then adjust depending on how reasonable the number seems. That would place smoked Slowpoke tails at $22 a tail. Smoked goods seem to cost about a third again more than non-smoked, based on the meat I’m looking at, which would bring the market cost for a fresh Slowpoke tail down to $17. Which seems real fucking cheap for something considered a delicacy, but this is in a region where they’re eaten by children in trail curries so, maybe they’ve got a better set-up. Moving on. That brings the money raised per Slowpoke per year to $34. My earliest estimated cost of living for my shit put the average for a single adult at ~$23,000 a year. So to cover your cost of living (not business costs, just cost of living) you would need around 650 Slowpoke.

Seems like a bit much. More likely, assuming the pricing is accurate, Slowpoke are farmed as a supplemental critter. The equivalent of keeping a couple hives of bees and selling honey and wax while your main business is in fruit trees or something. And they would have to be farmed to some degree, you can’t get prices that low on what’s functionally a cross between game meat and foragables.

#pokemon headcanons

1 note · View note