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#Standards and Practices moment
pnfoutofcontext · 5 months
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reineydraws · 28 days
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Saw your Mishanks bodyswap art! Very cute and fun! (Mihawk with a genuine smile on his face so so fun)
I imagine Shanks whould have trouble fighting in Mihawk's body at first since it's been years since he's had two arms
yes absolutely, i imagine that too! conversely, i think mihawk would have a little bit of trouble adjusting his balance and reach with a body missing one arm, as well. it's interesting to think about how they both would be forced to change their fighting style, and whether or not they would exchange swords.
mihawk's been seen using yoru with just one hand so he could probably pull it off with shanks's body. also interesting to think about shanks tripping up on having two arms until he naturally slips into his old fighting style again--or would he? because there's also the question of muscle memory, right? would mihawk's body automatically do things that shanks isn't predisposed to doing, and vice versa?
the other thing i find intriguing about body swapping in one piece is the question of whether or not your haki powers would switch as well. they say haki is spiritual presence, so presumably your haki switches if your spirits switch, but if it's the kind of spirit that's tethered to the presence of the body? then consider mihawk having the strongest conqueror's haki out on the blues, or shanks being able to use observation haki at mihawk's level, practically being able to predict the future--or mihawk, able to counter with shanks's haki-kill technique. food for thought!
#rei replies#one piece#mishanks body swap au#mishanks#akataka#dracule mihawk#shanks#akagami no shanks#red haired shanks#re: the genuine smiling#i also like to think shanks in mihawk's body would have this moment where he realizes his cheeks ache from all the smiling he's doing lol#bc mihawk's facial muscles arent used to doing it#and when they switch back shanks teases mihawk about it ('you exercise so many of your muscles hawky but your cheeks? they're weak!')#and he manages to get a smile out of mihawk that's mihawk's version of a genuine smile and it's softer and less wide but it's honest#and oh shanks is soooooo in love with him hahaha#BY THE WAY ALSO I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS OMG but in this body-swapped au mihawk-as-shanks would 100% shave for shanks#like hell is he gonna let shanks grow *stubble* on *his* face. dracule mihawk with STUBBLE? banish the thought!!!!!!#but shanks doesnt do it up to his standards so there's totally a scene where mihawk and shanks are body swapped in the bathroom#and mihawk is standing too close and shaving his lil pointy sideburns and mustache onto shanks's face#and shanks is having a crisis because that's his own face breathing too close and waaaay to intimately but that look of concentration#is ALL mihawk. shanks can practically his eyes--so familiar from the mirror and wrinkled with laugh lines--glow yellow with how#much mihawk looks like himself right now even in shanks's body.#it's all very strange. shanks has been attracted to mihawk for a long time but it's just blatantly unfair that the first time in YEARS#theyre this close again and it's shanks's own body that he has to look at. on the upside he supposes all he needs to do to ogle#mihawk is to look down. pros and cons pros and cons.#(mihawk isnt having a crisis. mihawk is annoyed that hia beard is easier to do in first person it is to do in the third person.#surely not having to do it reflected in a mirror should be easier and yet for some reason everything feels off! ugh.)#i digress
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non-un-topo · 2 months
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Me: Oh my profs are on strike. Now is the perfect time to catch up on assignments and start reading ahead.
Also me: The time is NOW to start writing that plot-heavy Northeast Indian queer quartet adventure you've been recursively planning out for over a year !!
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whatudottu · 8 months
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Because I've been steamrolled by another character to hyperfixate on completely out of the blue, I feel the need to talk about TFA Soundwave and his siphonophoric ass- yes, I said siphonophore, now read under the cut to find out more-!
Aside from me now suddenly getting attached to another minor character (not as fucked over as Skyke but an extra episode is STILL just 2 total episodes), I caught the curiosity bug and looked a little deeper into this bastard, and here I am sharing it.
As a refresh, Soundwave in TFA was a 'gift' for Sari with the actual motivation to be used as Megatron's new body; the method to do so being the Key and the Allspark energy it uses. Now, in terms of all the Earth sparked cybertronians (not to be confused with Earthspark), you can probably pit the two types of mecha into 'Key-born' and 'shard-born'. You get the Dinobots as the first Earth cybertronians firmly in the 'key-born' category and the Constructicons (+plus unrelated Wreck-Gar) in 'shard-born', and considering the methodology used to make Soundwave- well- SOUNDWAVE was the Key, you'd also think that he'd also be as such fitting in with 'robots Sari tampered with and Megan profited off of'.
Well- to say that Soundwave's transformation from simple Earth music bot to fully forged and sparked cybertronian was actually complete would be - perhaps - a lie.
Megatron had originally wanted Soundwave to at the very least stick around Sari long enough to fully upgrade into his new body, his cybertronian body fueled on by the Key and it's Allspark energy, and to probably remain under his command just long enough for a transfer of some sort. It is Soundwave's act of defiance, a shock to even Megan, that cut the ties between the full frame upgrade and the actual upgrading of his processor.
It was Soundwave's rebellion against the (presently) organic Sari that prevented him from being 'Key-born'.
That's not to say he isn't sapient, more that it is to say he's significantly more different in comparison to other Earth-born cybertronians.
Soundwave becomes the Soundwave Megatron designed him to be only after making the upgrade himself, with a lot of smaller Detroit robots serving as the materials to build up his frame, himself the personification of the Earth robot revolution. And when he is summarily defeated by Bulkhead (and later by Optimus in 'Human Error') all the parts that were his body shattered into the scrap parts of possessed robots passed their usefulness. All that remained of Soundwave was a little section of his original make that just so happened to be where the Key would be used.
Soundwave became a little cassette.
Bestie I swear to god-
Seeing as how his minicons Laserbeak and Ratbat don't transform into cassettes themselves (bass and keytar respectively), plus are probably part of the 'shard-born' half of Earth cybertronians, I think that it'd be a fucking hilarious reversal if the Cassetticon for the Soundwave fam was SOUNDWAVE HIMSELF! Like, if it ends up that Laserbeak and Ratbat have more cybertronian of a spark than this bitch then his siphonophoric ass has got to find that fucking shard-
And yes, back to siphonophores.
So, I love me some siphonophores, love the bitches that group together to form one being, love me that so much. I think if Soundwave were a siphonophore cybertronian frametype, it would certainly fit with the whole hypocrisy of his mentality, of unleashing a 'robot revolution' by uh... mind controlling robots to be free from their servitude by organic hands.
His spark's in the right place (buried deep within minibots or toy Soundwaves) but perhaps being like a day's worth of being vaguely sapient might kinda skew that revolution to be 'i want you to be free the way I define free' and boop I've made another mind controller a siphonophore eep-! (would be a great time to put in a link, were it not a link to a collab with a friend's deactivated blog and also not even transformers related 😔)
Considering the title of siphonophores in a more general sense are 'colonial species', a Soundwave built up as a colony of robots (so far only Detroit tech robots) and presents himself as this signal for a revolution, I think it's awfully fitting that the mentality of 'be free MY way' could be boiled down to 'be my body'. Because as a cassette - or perhaps more a cassette RECORDER or tape deck - Soundwave literally cannot move and has to rely on his music in order to get anything done, to get others to do the things he needs them to do FOR HIM. To escape from the Autobots a second time he needs Laserbeak - one of the instruments TO HIS VERY MIND CONTROLLING MUSIC - to snatch him out of there to rebuild another day, to gather enough stray robots to become a colonial system of machines in order to function as 'cybertronian'.
I just... think I really like siphonophores, man. I think they're real neat little cities, yeah? And I think Soundwave's network of robotics is just being head by someone who's like... idk give or take a few Earth months/years between Sari's season 1 birthday and Earth's season 3 Christmas old, significantly less than even the youngest of young bots (though Dirtboss and the Luna-born clones are like... the youngest newsparks) and most certainly an age that even humans would find young.
Idk, maybe Soundwave using all this Earth tech is not getting the parts that he actually needs to be actually officially a cybertronian, even if perhaps he remains a siphonophore type frame. Perhaps, with a special delivery from Megan himself all the way from Kaon, a colony of cybertronian made minicons could help connect the missing piece.
Eh, I'm just rambling at this point.
Anyway; *rotates TFA Soundwave in my head* *rotates TFA Soundwave in my head* *rotates TFA Soundw-
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dcviline · 3 months
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will you guys still love me if I say that I do not agree with how fanon likes to portray a.lysanne and j.aehaerys' relationship. like . . . not at all asfddjkljlkdsf
#᯽ ooc. ⊱ ── ❝ 𝘖𝘩 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪. ❞#᯽ muse ⊱ ── 𝐀𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧#inc*st tw#LISTEN#I feel like since we only get these historical events told from the perspective of history itself#fandom tends to romanticize a looooot of the targ history#and I think their relationship is one of the things that gets romanticized a lot more than it probably really was#because you gotta stop and think about the characters that are writing about these events#and how they have every incentive to WANT to portray certain beloved members of house t.argaryen in the most positive light#these are very biased partial viewpoints and we're intended to read between the lines a lot more than if it was all written as a novel#do I think they were absolutely crazy about each other in their younger years? for sure#but j.aehaerys becoming a ruling king in more than just name is the worst thing that ever happened to them#because I feel like there are a lot of natural conflicts in their personalities and view points that were easy to ignore#UNTIL those ideals became mixed with power#because j.aehaerys did a lot to support misogynistic and patriarchial standards and practices#meanwhile a.lysanne (by the standards of her time) was a very progressive feminist#and I think the moment j.aehaerys started pushing to pass over their daughter d.aenerys in favor of a son#was the moment that years long honeymoon period began to wear off for aly#because also if you look at the circumstances under which they became so close in the first place#there has been a lot of pressure for them to depend on each other since they were children#not to mention they were LITERAL CHILDREN when they eloped like that's just insane to me#like she was around 12 and him 14#and growing into independent adults *after* being married . . . things start to not match up to those ideals of their younger years#but of course this gets whitewashed by history because of course the king and queen *had* to be seen as endlessly in love#because anything else would conflict with the legacy j.aehaerys had been carefully crafting for himself#I absolutely *do* believe he had mistresses and the idea that he didn't is said to be because of 'his love for a.lysanne'#but I think the true reason for him trying to portray himself as faithful is to feed into the pious image of himself he wanted#and pander to the faith of the seven ESPECIALLY when he needed to play into his doctrine of exceptionalism#and I do believe aly had an affair with a.laric s.tark because there are so many details about her trip to the north that imply this#that I will never change my mind. there's just Too Much there.
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sir-yeehaw-paws · 1 year
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CANNOT stress to you guys enough how grateful I am you don’t give me flack for typos. It’s so dumb but it means way more than you could imagine.
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seagullcharmer · 1 year
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i think i'm allowed to draw badly every now and again. just for fun
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waffled0g · 11 months
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Everyone gets “The 90s” look wrong and I hate it
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Couple years ago I saw these two board games at the store back to back. Well, not saw them per se, but ya know. Spied them out of the corner of my eye. And for a moment without reading the text, I couldn’t tell you which was which decade at first. Funny. Either they were in a rush to get these out the door or they wanted their throwback trivia game boxes to look uniform. I didn’t think too much of it.
Only, from then on I started seeing it MORE. Every time someone markets a 90s or 80s throwback...
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Goddammit they’re identical! What??! How did we let this happen? As a 90s survivor and a designer, this drives me up a wall.
Look, I know I’m late to the party to complain about “the 90s look” when we’re just starting to get sick of the Y2K nostalgia train. But c’mon, the 90s were not The 80s: Part Two™ 
Trust me when I say that we weren’t all wearing neon trapezoids up until the year 2000. The 90s look being peddled is so specific to the tail end of the 80s and an early early part of the 90s - a part of the 90s when it wouldn’t stop being the 80s. This is Memphis design being conflated with the wrong decade.
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Keep reading for a long ass graphic design history lesson and pictures of old soda and fast food.
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Specifically, the look is Memphis Milano, self-named by the Italian design house Memphis Group. Starting in the early to mid 80s, they made all sorts of furniture, fabrics and sculptures that were like a Piet Mondrian grid painting under heavy radiation. Their whole deal was defying the standards of existing industrial design up to that point on purpose. Chairs had weird arches, bookcases would be in strange alien colors, unusual materials like plastic or elastic were used in place of metal or wood, that sorta thing.
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Memphis quickly became the signature look for the decade. You can tell something’s influenced by Memphis design from it’s telltale trademarks:
Clashing, neon colors.
Use of diametric shapes.
Contrasting patterns like zebra print stripes, confetti squiggles and checkerboards.
It wasn’t long before Memphis Milano-inspired design was everywhere in 80s pop culture:
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It was a special time, yes.
I was a kindergartener at the tail end of the 80s, so I knew Memphis mostly through the lens of kids media. Toys, clothes, games, tv shows used it like candy colored catnip. Cable channel Nickelodeon more or less adopted the Memphis aesthetic as their signature in-house style and practically built a monument to it at a Florida theme park:
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I think this is why folks mistake what decade Memphis is representative of - 90s staples like Nick, Saved By The Bell, Fresh Prince - they all stayed around much longer than the design trend’s expiration date. 
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Couple that notion with the fact that companies are slow followers to design trends. Something gets popular and they want to get on the bandwagon? Gotta wait for the ink to dry, gotta wait for the production molds to be made. It would take a few years for them to completely work Memphis outta their system.
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Now, this is not to say Memphis is bad! Personally I’m a fan of the aesthetic, if my neon-drenched artwork wasn’t a tip-off already. But it is a trend, and trends never last forever.
So what took the Memphis Milano look down for good? This part’s up for debate, but I personally think it had something to do with this dude:
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It’s that grunge music from Seattle that’s so popular with the kids these days dontchaknow.
Once Smells Like Teen Spirit hit in 1991, the Nirvana tone drove the rest of the decade. Clean geometry became weathered, grainy and organic. Bright neon pastels became more bold. Bubblegum pop music sounded fake and manufactured. Attitude and apathy was authentic. Whatever.
Things got grungy. Things got grimy. Olestra was invented.
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I think the best way to visualize this transition is how Cherry Coke entered the decade and how it left it:
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1992 Memphis on the left, 1998 grunge junkie on the right. Fitting that the 90s would end with a design that looked like Darth Maul’s lungs.
Okay, so what should 90s retro design look like?
Continue on to PART TWO! Spoilers: No VHS filters or vaporwave needed, but maybe bring an antacid.
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hor3nee · 4 months
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• Life •
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Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.
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CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)
Characters: Sukuna x Reader
AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic
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   Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.
And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.
To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.
The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.
Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.
Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.
Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.
"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.
"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.
"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.
"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.
Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.
Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.
But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.
"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.
"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.
"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.
That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.
His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.
"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.
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evilminji · 4 months
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You think the Zone has its version of Comic Con?
Like? Think about it. You have literally all of time to work on it, your Magnum Opus, your life's work. That DREAM comic. All the supplies you could ever wish for. Endless paper. Endless ink. You can practice and practice for CENTURIES until it's JUST right.
Wouldn't you want to share it?
There are definitely Ghosts who have Obsessions that make them collect.
And two people meeting would lead to a group. Lead to a bigger group. Lead to a large group. A gathering. A crowd even. Eventually you need a Lair to meet IN. It becomes An Event.
People hear about it.
Want to bring other art mediums. Food stalls. Report on it. It grows. Shoot offs start happening. Niche meet ups.
But like?
Unlike comic con? It's all FREE. Sure, you might have fork over the ecto to make your copy. And yeah, weaker ghosts can only do that so many times. Will have to prioritize. But? They can come back after leaving for a nap. Ask a buddy to come with. There ARE work arounds.
Just? Imagine the unbelievable HIPE? Danny would feel? But be unable to TELL anyone about? Zone Con happens several times a year! Cause so many people wanna come. The Zone being infinite, after all.
Problem 1? They're using THEIR standard of a "year". Which is actual 5 earth years. So it's only happens every year and a half for him. And Problem 2? He can't even TALK about how excited he is about Z Con with anyone (outside his friends and family) because they haven't heard of it and might Ask Questions.
It's ALSO held in a part of the Zone that's like? Three days of flying away from the portal. And no amount of begging is gonna get any of his loved ones to camp in the Speeder for around six-ish days just to go to a Con.
So you can imagine his DELIGHT. His utter JOY and *Target Spotted* "!!!" Noise, when? In the crowd? He spots A HUMAN! Hi fellow human!!! Omg, wanna be Con Besties? *doesn't even wait for an answer*
So now? This sad, blonde, deeply lost and kinda alarmed, trench coat dude? Is Danny's new Z Con Going Bestie! You got a map yet, bestie? No? That's cool, he has one. By the way, he has human food in the Speeder if you nee-
YES!
Cause, see, here's the THING. John? Lost to the Realms Infinte. Or Infinte Realms. Translation was iffy... and on fire... like the rest of the building. It was him or the kids those psychos had kidnapped, for what fucked "ritual" the voices in their heads, that THEY thought were demons but frankly he's pretty sure was just feedback from-
Look, doesn't matter, he had to choose. He always knew someday he'd have too. That even twisting Luck and talking fast wouldn't quite be enough. And he had to decide, in that moment, which outcome mattered more to him. They get out safe, or he does.
Wasn't much of a question, was it?
So, there he is. Staring down oblivion and all those debts unpaid. 'Bout to see who's gonna come for him this time, and take what left of wretched soul. When? He bleeds on the FUCKIN two-bit crap circle they squiggled in God only knows what. Remembers that "oh YEAH, set dressings!" Sometimes when you focus too hard on insuring a Good Outcome?
You weird weird as shit byproducts happening on the side to balance it all out.
Or BAD ones.
He wakes up someone fucking green and crowded. For the life of him can't tell you which one it is. And THAT was of course, bout two days ago.
Biggest and most immediate problem? He... does NOT recognize what flavor of magical fuckery this is. Doesn't seem Fae. And doesn't smell like Hell. There are... there are honest to God BOOTH BABES hanging around. Hunks too. The view is LOVELY.
And nerdy.
Very, very nerdy.
But he isn't THAT out of touch. So he should recognize SOMETHING. Or at least the languages. But nope! It's like aliens and magic had a nerd baby and dipped it in GREEN. And the worst thing? Is there is food everywhere, but it all glows and John's not stupid enough to eat it.
Then? Sweet merciful fuck. Salvation! Some teeny bopper Barely No Longer Teen fresh faced INFANT of a Hero kid. With a SHIP. Who has FOOD and a clear idea of where they are. Hello~ John's new BEST FRIEND. Yes. Absolutely. Con Buddies, whatever.
Just feed me, kid.
Only? Once he inhales like 5 "Fenton rations"? He only gets half way through introducing himself before getting interrupted. Kid hears "magic" and "occult Detective" and just? Goes "oh! So you wanna check out the magic Ally with me? Sam wanted me to pick up some witchy stuff!"
..............how magic?
(In Which? Constantine becomes Danny's interdimensional Con buddy)
@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe
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a-b-riddle · 3 days
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Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️
It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.
You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.
But the past two returns home have been… different.
Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.
“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.
After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.
He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?
So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.
The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.
Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.
He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.
“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.
“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.
You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.
Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.
“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.
“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.
“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”
“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”
For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”
“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.
“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”
“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”
“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.
None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.
“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”
You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.
Four times the love.
But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.
John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.
Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.
Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.
And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.
Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.
None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.
You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.
So you did the only thing you could.
You hung up.
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midascrow · 2 months
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Alastor x Reader
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Favoritism Pt.2(1.5)
Part 1
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Synopsis: Alastor finds himself wondering why exactly he favors you so much
a/n: this is more of a part 1.5 really, as it’s mostly just Alastair’s perspective of what’s going on, but I figured you guys would enjoy this 🍓
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Fluffy red ears twitched back and fourth, listening to the idle and mindless chatter of the hotel inhabitants.
Alastor couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of mirth at the topic of discussion. While he made no attempts to hide his blatant bias, he hadn’t thought he was quite that obvious.
Though a tiny part of him felt a bit smug, especially at the claim of that empty headed serpent. A kiss?
The idea wasn’t unpleasant but he was unfortunately mistaken.
The two of you had never shared such an intimate gesture, much less in the company of others.
No-, he supposed the closest you had ever gotten was a small bump of the nose to one another’s. It wasn’t an inherently romantic gesture on the radio demons part, more instinctual than anything, but he could suppose there had been a certain layer of affection lined in the action nonetheless.
“What do you suppose they’re talking about Al..?”
His ears twitched forward to fully take in the sound of your candied voice.
Alastor didn’t consider himself a fan of sweet things like candy and cakes. But he always seemed to make an exception when it came to you.
“Hm..~ Seems our dear friends are under the impression that you and I are…an item of sorts.” His smile twitched, inching upwards with amusement when he saw the way your eyes widened, a warmth on your cheeks that roused a small huff of pride from his nose.
“Oh…well that doesn’t..upset you?…right?” Your concern is down right precious. So bothered with his comfort that it makes the fabric of his tail coat shift, just briefly.
“Hmm~…perhaps if it were another sinner who they believed I had such relations with. However because it’s you my dear, I can’t seem to find myself bothered by the idea.”
You were far too naive. (Cute). Your sparkly gaze almost made him angry. Like he wanted to squeeze you till it eased the tight sensation in his chest. Though he wouldn’t dare to act on such an impulse. For fear of losing such pleasant company of course.
But he couldn’t stop himself from teasing you. Just a little. “Infact…I’d say I’m rather flattered by the notion~. To think they see me a fit partner for a gem like you.”
That feeling got subsequently stronger as he watched you bury your face into the crook of your shoulder, a shy, perhaps embarrassed smile painting your lips and making a that shifting of his tail coat return. Like those aforementioned sweets had found their way into his system and subsequently thrown him into a vicious sugar rush. His heart was practically bouncing off the walls of his ribcage, though he hadn't the faintest idea why.
“Alastor…” His name was a garbled whine, swatting at him playfully as you returned to dusting the bannister, distracting yourself as he sidled beside you still, ever attendant while his shadow fluttered around, moving glasses and nicknacks for you to dust off. “Are you going to tell them then..?”
“What ever do you mean?”
Your eyes glanced back, lips pursed. “Well…you are going to tell them we’re not together right?”
Well that sounded unpleasant, and his immediate thought had been an internal grimace. But he pondered the thought for a moment, mindful of the eyes on both your backs as he stepped around the side of you, clawed hands dancing across your shoulder and arm thoughtfully.
“Hmm…~..No.”
He paused, ears twitched backwards as his lips connected gently with the skin of your nose, sweet and lingering as he failed to ignore the twitch of his grin at the gasps that echoed behind.
“No fucking way.”
“I say let them wonder..~”
……
Alastor could admit, even by his standards this was a bit mean.
His “loving” gestures had amped up quite a bit the following week at the hotel.
Lingering touches, thoughtful hand placements, small gestures and sweet words. Nothing explicitly romantic…but there was always something implied in his gaze that perhaps even he himself wasn't aware of.
It wasn’t in an intentional effort to lead you on. He was hardly that cruel. But some part of him…found deep satisfaction in watching your eyes shine and your cheeks darken and become hot.
And that itch had only gotten worse too.
Sometimes it was small. An urge to pinch your cheek which he acted on, mindful of his claws in doing so. His ears always twitched at your disgruntled whines, always tuned to your words and noises. Even unintentionally.
There had been one moment when, your silly little self had gotten caught on that same rug, again. Alastor had been on the other side of the room, but the moment your squeak reached his ears, they swiveled back, and a mass of tentacles lurched up from the ground, gently rolling you onto you greet before disappearing like they had never existed.
And Alastor hadn’t even turned around, still idly chatting with the stunned princess who barely hid her ever widening smile.
Husker seemed the most displeased with his current antics. Always preaching to the others that this was a trick. That he was playing with you. Toying with you.
The radio demon wished that was the case now.
Frankly, he wasn’t sure why he was doing it. He knew he favored you above the others. That was natural. Instinctual. Obvious. And while the others reactions, especially those of the spear wielding ex angel and the gambler were fairly amusing, if that had been the soul purpose it was likely he would’ve grown bored by now. And he would’ve stopped.
But it wasn’t. And he hadn’t.
And it was all becoming a bit overwhelming.
Yet you didn’t question it. Sometimes your brow would raise, at a particularly bold gesture or comment sent your way, and yes your eyes would dart around as if to see who was watching. But you never complained. And if he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were enjoying yourself, if the sweetheart smile that graced your lips after each instance was anything to go off.
So Alastor didn’t feel the need to label what he was experiencing or truly ponder why. He was enjoying himself, as were you. To him, nothing needed to be said.
“So are you two bangin or nah?”
Though he supposed not everyone felt the same.
Taglist: @preciousbabypeter @ouroborostheunholy @chirimeimei @shanksstrawhat @for-hearthand-home @random-3455 @ittoehurt @salutations-demonsanddappers
(Anyone who wanted to be tagged and wasn’t, for whatever reason your blogs weren’t showing up,🍓)
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chrollohearttags · 2 months
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ace loves more than anything to tease his girl! Sure, he plays the occasional prank or pokes fun at the way you eat. Even throwing around a silly nickname here or there..
but nothing brings him more satisfaction than watching you writhe and squirm on top of him. A firm hand clutching the back of your neck to keep you in place against his chest. Meanwhile, your legs are slightly parted as he pushes that toy in and out of your little cunt..it’s practically sucking it in. That silicone dildo marked with a different color at each inch to show how far you can take it. And at the moment, you’re just not meeting his standards.
“Babyyyy..please..”
“Unt uh..not yet, pretty girl..you’ll get mine when you can handle all of this.”
a promise he intended to keep. As it stood, you couldn’t even fit it to the halfway point without you coming undone. Cream and slick coating the tip and part of its shaft. Trust, he wishes it were him..wish that he could grip your asscheeks in his hands and bounce you up and down on his cock right now. Wishing he could make you come until those pretty little eyes rolled back…that he could fill it up with every last remnant of but he had to offer. But he’s got the patience of a saint. He doesn’t mind playing the long game so long as he got what he wanted in the end. So he’ll continue working that little pussy over..stroking at the same pace he would if it were him inside of you. Taking some out only to shove it back in gently. Listening to the pop and squelch of your tight walls constricting around it. “Look how fucking tight you are, babe..you’re barely opening up.” The tent in his pants is only growing larger but he can’t cave just yet. Not when he’s got you nearly trained to his liking. Finally meeting the thrusts of that fake thing..he’s confident you’ll have no problem taking that dick once he decides to give it to you! But for now, he’s enjoying this view. Watching you rut yourself against his thigh as he keeps pushing it in and out. Your nails clawing at his chest whilst his lips softly press to your temple. You’re growing anxious, getting restless and even start pawing at his obvious hard on. But he’s equally quick to swat your hand away. It’s not the right time in his opinion.
“..I know you’re getting impatient, gorgeous. But trust me, you’ll be glad I made you wait for it.”
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prokopetz · 4 months
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While I'm not convinced that the Final Fantasy VII Remake really needed to be a trilogy of full-price games (leaving the meta bullshit aside for the moment), it's unavoidably true the the original is very sparsely plotted by modern standards, leans far too much on supplementary media to arrive at a basic understanding of what's going on, and suffers from frequent "who the fuck is this guy?" syndrome – I feel like there's gotta be a happy medium between that and going full Peter Jackson's The Hobbit, but for the life of me I can't picture what that would look like in practice.
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saetoru · 2 years
Note
Imagine how funny it’s be if it was the “break up with my son” trope with rich boy gojo but instead of break up it’s his mother begging you to stay with him forever because he gets insufferably sad/annoying when you’re not around
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[ FINALS WEEK ] GOJO SATORU.
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“satoru.”
“please don’t leave me,” his voice is croaked, frail, broken. you roll your eyes—gojo has always had a knack for being the most dramatic person in the room, but you think of all his moments, this one might just take the cake.
“this is ridiculous—”
“please,” he even pretends to sniffle, and for a moment, you almost consider actually leaving him. “i’m nothing without you. empty with no meaning—”
“satoru, it’s just for this week,” you say flatly.
gojo has always been spoiled, and truth be told, you don’t hold yourself to the standards you’d like to be able to say you do in order to break the cycle. but really, it’s not your fault—his pout is rather dangerous, and he’s pretty damn good at whining, and he knows how to bat his lashes just right to get what he wants. this time, however, you’re determined. this time is strictly a no-giving-into-satoru time, and he can shed pretty tears all he wants, but you’re not relenting.
“what if you fall in love with someone else during our one week break up? i won’t make it if you do,” he gasps dramatically. you have to hand it to him—his ability in theatrics is at least persistent, even if quite a bit overdone sometimes.
“i’m sure your house would be peaceful then,” you snort. you can just picture the offended pout on his lips even though he’s not here, and you’re somewhat happy that he can’t see the smile you crack over the phone—that would only add to the drama, and he’s already a handful without the addition.
“baby, don’t do this,” he begs, making you sigh. 
it’s finals week. meaning all the days of class gojo has made you skip in order to coddle him (again, he’s very spoiled) will soon come back to really bite you in the ass while you have to make up for what you missed to pass your exams. meaning no gojo satoru will be allowed anywhere near your vicinity as an added distraction to keep you from studying. you know your boyfriend, and you know him well. you know that i promise i’ll just sit and be quiet will turn into his head resting in your lap, which will turn into pouts for your fingers to play with his hair, which will turn into complaints of boredom, which will all end with forced cuddles and an earful of his blabbering as he steals your attention. 
and you cannot afford a single failed final. 
so, with careful and deliberate consideration, you come up with your solution—which seems to have utterly broken your (painfully) spoiled boyfriend. no staying over the nights for a week is a very hard thing to grasp for rich and spoiled boyfriends who rarely hear the word no, apparently, and gojo is not taking the news lightly.
in fact, he seems to be taking the news a lot harder than you initially anticipated. never did you think a one week ban from sharing a bed with gojo so you can earn your degree would turn into his mother phoning you with a desperate plea to not break up with her son. it takes you by surprise, makes you stare at your phone with a double take to make sure you’re really talking to who you think you’re talking to—and that she’s really said what you think she’s said.
which begs the real question…where did the words break up even come from? and then you realize a certain somebody has exaggerated your rule for the week to something entirely new.
“satoru, you are entirely too much,” you groan, “one week of no sleepovers will not kill you. stop being bratty. and stop telling your mother i broke up with you, liar.”
“you practically are,” he huffs. “you don’t see me all day when you study. now you’re taking away the night too? just say you stopped loving me.” you scoff, and he pauses. “don’t actually say that, though,” he adds quickly.
“some of us have to pass,” you scowl, “i don’t have trust funds to swim in.”
“you can—”
“if you say i can spend your money, you might have to tell your mom we actually broke up.”
“so mean,” he whines, “well, why can’t i just sleep in your bed? i don’t even snore, i wouldn’t bother you,” he protests. he’s stubborn—which sometimes makes your heart flutter (like when he defends your honor to his snobby father) but sometimes (like now, for example) it’s enough to make you wish his lips would sew shut. permanently. 
“because,” you sigh exasperatedly, “you never sleep unless i’m in bed with you, and i’m going to stay up very late. stop being difficult—”
“i promise i’ll be good—”
“you are never good,” you accuse, narrowing your eyes. “and you break this promise every time. no sleepovers for this week until all my finals are over. and no more bothering your mom. got it?”
“but this time for real i’ll be good—”
“no, toru,” you say firmly, a hint of finality in your tone. it’s silent, and you can just imagine him deflating, and a small part of you feels just a little bad. “baby, i promise i’ll try to squeeze in some time every now in then, okay? we’ll meet for lunch or something.” you try to ease his conscience, but it doesn’t do much to persuade his sulkiness. 
“yeah, whatever,” he mumbles under his breath. 
a sulky gojo is a nightmare to deal with—you silently send your prayers to his mother for the next week, and you almost consider saving up for a fancy gift to offer her as an apology. but you also feel just a little bad for your sweet (though annoying) boyfriend. it’s at least the slightest bit endearing that he enjoys your company as much as he does, and you’d be lying if you say you don’t enjoy it just as much. 
so you relent—not fully though, you reason. “you can stay only the night,” you mutter, huffing as you hear his breath hitch with excitement, “and you have to stay in the living room until i’m ready to sleep.”
“i’ll tell my mom we’re back together,” he grins.
“we were never broken up!” you hiss as you pinch your nose, but before you can help yourself, there’s a light giggle that spills past your lips.
“she’ll be thrilled,” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes fondly. 
“cause it means you’ll leave the house to see me.”
“true,” he laughs this time, soft and sweet and enough to make you think spending nights with gojo this week isn’t the worst thing to happen. “i love you.”
“i know.”
“say it back—”
“okay bye. i have to study,” you grin as you cut him off, hanging up the line with a snicker.
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© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok
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strangesem · 11 months
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hobie brown x shy/quiet!reader headcanons
spider-punk x reader this is not a drill
long as hell I’m so sorry
a/n: reader is mentioned as being a mom friend but imo that can be gender neutral so this can still be read by anyone!! if that makes you uncomfortable though please skip this post :)
I also imagine hobie as being 19-ish so it’s kinda implied reader lives alone but can def be read as younger!!
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most people didn’t notice you at first.
you were quiet; really quiet. you’d mumble your thank you’s, whisper apologies, and generally go out of your way not to interact with people as a whole.
I feel like that gentleness/softness would almost draw hobie to you though?
he’d definitely first meet you as spider-man; saving you from some sort of robber or attacker. and then he’d see you be so shy about thanking him and apologizing as if it was your fault??? he finds it sweet but also kinda concerning for you tbh
and over time he begins to notice you more and more during his patrols; something about you just draws him in.
he definitely likes that you don’t try to tell him or others what to do lol
after talking to you enough as spider-man, and you start to open up, he begins to like you even more
you listen to some of the music he likes? your humour?? not to mention how genuine you are???
(also very useful if you happen to be a “mom friend” type who keeps first aid, candy, etc on you at all times!! he’d definitely appreciate a lollipop to help with the pressure changes while swinging around or a bandage for his cuts)
speaking of which if you ARE the type to have those things on you he may start seeking you out if/when he gets hurt
and after that even when he’s not tbh he’ll just pretend to have a headache and eat some of your candy on your couch lmao-
one time though he comes with wounds a little too serious looking for the standard wet cloth and bandaid treatment you had been used to; and it scares you
you raise your voice a bit louder than he’d ever heard, in a scared tone that was different than your normal anxious voice, and you tell him he should probably definitely go to a hospital
“but I like you so much better” he leans in a little too close, holding on to you a little too tight to keep himself steady, and you suddenly realize the reality of you situation
spider-man is in your living room. he’s bleeding a lot. and you’re the first person he thought to come to; because he likes you? not like that obviously- unless it is like that? NO. people barely even notice you, no one would ever feel like that type of thing for-
“you’re staring” you can feel the shit eating grin on his face; it’s practically burning through his mask
you stutter out an apology and after stammering around for a moment you get him to sit down and do your best to treat his injuries
you can tell the disinfectant stings by the way he flinches whenever you apply it, as well as his teasing that he “thought you were supposed to be nicer than the nurses” but he does his best to sit still and let you dress all of his wounds
you both remain still for a moment, and you think you can feel his eyes on you but you’re too scared to look up. your hands are shaking; they have been this whole time.
“that’s everywhere right? I didn’t miss something?”
he takes off his mask to look you in the eye and tell you he’s okay but you’re just like ????
:O
ANYWAYS you are once again staring bc you now know spider-man’s identity???
I feel like he’s gently hold your face and just give you a quick peck to make sure he wasn’t crossing any boundaries
but if you kiss him back? he’s NEVER stopping
he’ll start randomly crawling through your window with excuses of missing you or wanting to show you something
and soon he’s staying the night at your place or he’s swinging you over to his so you can stay with him
I think dates would definitely be super chill and more like hanging out at each others places than anything else
but if he does a show for his music he’d definitely want you there!!
he’d also probably pick you up and start swinging around the city with no warning just for the way you’ll grab on to him so tightly-
but ofc is you asked him not to he’d stop immediately!
doesn’t get super jealous or anything, he’s a pretty chill guy, but he will get sorta bothered if someone’s aggressively pursuing you even after knowing you two are together
like if someone doesn’t know and flirts with you he’s just like “yeah I’m lucky”
but if someone ever went so far to imply you should be unfaithful and/or should leave him he’d probably tell them to back off and either leave with you or put his arm around your shoulder and glare at them until they leave
either way he’s not starting any fights or anything though; he’s super comfortable in your relationship and hopes you are too
genuinely thinks you’re the most beautiful/handsome person ever like he WILL flex to the other spider-people if relationships come up
he’s really not in to pda though; he’ll put his arm around your shoulders/waist but that’s it. maybe hand holding depending on the situation.
but when you guys are alone he likes physical touch; don’t expect to be on top of each other or anything but having your/his head rested on the others lap or him just resting his hand on your leg is pretty common
he’s also not very big into gifts (he doesn’t buy into the capitalist need for abundance and all that) but he does like giving you jewellery/other wearable items bc he likes to see a reminder of himself/your relationship on you
pls make him a bracelet or something he’ll literally never take it off (also jewellery for any of his piercings is fair game)
he values small intimate things in a relationship; like painting each others nails, listening to each other rant about things you’re passionate about, etc
overall he may not be big and showy but he’s an amazing boyfriend and would love you like a lot
he’d also definitely write songs about/for you bc you’re so important to him and he wants the whole world to know that :((
I haven’t written fanfiction in forever but if anyone has any hobie requests I could write as headcanons I’m open to them!! :)
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