Tumgik
#but anyway this is more actually to do with the kinds of things that happen when me and my siblings fight than it is anything else
egophiliac · 10 hours
Note
hiii im sure you’ve answered this before but in regards to your twst x Pokémon, how do you choose which Pokémon go give to the cast?? really curious since your choices are unique :O
unique in a good way, I hope? 😅 (jk jk I haven't come across too many pokemon AUs, so I was going in without preconceptions, I guess!) I was sorta aiming somewhere between doing, like, a full AU with internal consistency and everything, and just picking entirely based on theme/character, so maybe that's why! basically I just set some arbitrary rules (no legendaries/no repeats/evo stages based on year) and then went on ~vibes~. a couple were also suggestions (thank you guys!) and last-minute decisions, so it was a bit of a delightful mess of ideas!
my one regret is that I should have given Riddle a Togedemaru after all. ...you know what, he can have one now, why not
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wren-kitchens · 2 days
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so shiver, but shiver with a friend
1034 words
the boat is creaking. that's not even remotely abnormal; the boat spends more time creaking than it does staying silent—gem built it so it would do that. sure, it took a lil' getting used to, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic rocking and gentle creaking to become conducive to sleep, and now gem finds it far more difficult to sleep in silence. after all, silence means something is wrong—the engine rumbles if it's working, the waves splash against the sides of the boat if it's still afloat. a creaky boat means gem is still alive, and the boat is still running. but this isn’t your average ambient creaking. like she said, gem knows the noises of her little fishing boat like the back of her hand, and this is not a normal creak. this is a suspicious creak. and- sure, that might sound silly, but have you memorised every sound this boat can make? didn’t think so. 
this fic exists for two reasons, which are stiff stiffyck's love for qpr elven duo (gem and scar) and also me overthinking scar's wheelchair worldbuilding in the hermitcraft world
this could be a lot better but alas I have been consumed by depression writers block, so honestly i'm just proud this ended up as a finished fic
btw this is one of my first times writing wheelchairs, and whilst it is fantasy so things are gonna be a little different, I would appreciate if someone could tell me if I did something wrong/insensitively!
the boat is creaking.
that's not even remotely abnormal; the boat spends more time creaking than it does staying silent—gem built it so it would do that. sure, it took a lil' getting used to, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic rocking and gentle creaking to become conducive to sleep, and now gem finds it far more difficult to sleep in silence. after all, silence means something is wrong—the engine rumbles if it's working, the waves splash against the sides of the boat if it's still afloat. a creaky boat means gem is still alive, and the boat is still running.
but this isn’t your average ambient creaking. like she said, gem knows the noises of her little fishing boat like the back of her hand, and this is not a normal creak. this is a suspicious creak. and- sure, that might sound silly, but have you memorised every sound this boat can make? didn’t think so.
anyway, all of this to say that gem is pretty sure someone is on her boat at the middle of the night for what she deeply hopes are not nefarious reasons. although, she cannot think of any reason someone would be sneaking onto her boat at two in the morning—nefarious or otherwise. maybe it's grian trying to lag some things out of her chests? but why on earth he wouldn't do that in the day when she wasn't on board, gem has no clue.
there's a new noise now, one that suggests against the idea of nefarious deeds, but only confuses gem more: a kind of squeaking, like a rubber ring being taken off, or an air mattress being slept on. okay, that doesn’t rule anything out at all, and only serves to make everything far more complicated. who is bringing a rubber something onto her boat at 2am? what is happening here?
overtaken by an amounting curiosity to whatever the hell is actually going on, gem climbs out of bed and pads softly along the floorboards in her slippers to her door. she regrets not installing one of those peepholes, because now she actually has to engage with the something that's happening outside in order to investigate. gem is sure there isn’t anything especially dangerous that could be going on, but she pulls out her sword preemptively as she opens the door slowly to find-
to find..
well, she's not sure what she's found.
"gem!" says a cheery scar, who is. on her boat? how is he on her boat- he uses a wheelchair, and the boat is in the middle of the river.
except- no, hang on, his wheelchair seems to be completely lacking wheels, which gem would argue is the main point of a wheelchair. where the wheels should otherwise be, there are floatation devices—seemingly rubber, which explains the noises gem was hearing earlier—in patented hotguy colours, so she assumes that's intentional. okay, that's- that sure is something.
"you-" gem scrambles for any words to express how bizarre this situation is and fails miserably. "you’re on my boat." is all she manages. void, it is way too late (early?) to be trying to figure this out.
"I am on your boat!" scar says, looking rather proud of himself. it's kind of sweet, to be fair—even as it only adds to the crazy situation. "y’know, I didn't think i’d actually manage it. last time I tried, I sunk."
gem blinks, giving up on making sense of the situation now and letting herself just go with the bizarre. "yeah, I can imagine why scar." she gestures at the rubber wheels (they look a bit like wheels, anyway). "how did you get those?"
"cub helped me!" scar smiles, as if this was a normal conversation to be having. does he even realise how strange this situation is, or is this just normal for him now? "see- you know how my chair has an elytra mode?"
"uh huh."
"well, now it has a swimming mode!" scar says, and he clicks a button on the underside of the seat. within an instant, the floatation devices deflate, replaced swiftly by the regular wheels. "ta da!"
"that- I mean, that's very cool." gem says, and she means it, despite how unenthusiastic she knows she must sound. in her defence, it is the middle of the night. "I just- why are you here?"
something changes in scar's expression immediately, and gem panics a little until scar says meekly, "it- okay, well. now it sounds silly."
gem snorts. "because showing off your inflatable wheelchair at two in the morning is normal?" she tilts her head, and her voice is fond when she says, "you know you can tell me anything, right?"
a smile tugs at the corners of scar's lips, and gem feels something warm in her chest to see it. "I know, I know." he hesitates for a second, before giving a huff of exasperation. "I wanted a hug." scar admits, glancing at the floor.
"wh- scar." gem finds herself beginning to smile. "do you really think I would ever turn down a hug from you?"
scars grin is almost shy as he opens his arms, and gem practically falls into them, burying her face in his jacket. man, she has missed hugs from scar; she loves the way they fit together so well, like pieces of a puzzle, perfectly matched to one another. there are very few places where gem feels entirely at home—she's been pretty much everywhere, so she knows what home feels like—and scar is closer to home than any place has ever felt to her.
before she knows it, scar has scooted forward just enough to unbalance her, and she lands on top of him. gem scoffs playfully as scar laughs to himself, holding her closer.
"I can't hug you properly if you’re stood up, y’know." scar mumbles into her hair.
gem rolls her eyes, fond as anything. "well, i’m not complaining." she's quiet for a moment, letting herself appreciate the moment—breathing it all in. "I love you." gem murmurs.
scar squeezes her, and gem can almost hear his smile when he says, "I love you too."
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synthetickitsune · 18 hours
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Petty ✧ h.js
Pairing: Joshua Hong x gn!reader Genre: angst/fluff Summary: Joshua can be a bit petty when he's tired and feels wronged. Even if he's at fault all along. Word count: 2.3k A/N: please get me out of here, i've been in shua brainrot since january and this is once again @hanniedream's fault >:(
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Joshua has never hated your bedroom more than he hates it at this moment.
The room is too big. The walls are the wrong color. The windows are too big and it feels like the whole world can see him and laugh at him. The bedroom should be the only room in your house. It wouldn’t be so empty then.
The bed is too big to be sleeping in it alone. It’s cold. The sheets feel like ice around him, no matter how tightly he wraps himself in them, and his arms are empty even though your scent lingers on your pillow. He won’t be as pitiful as hugging it to sleep, he refuses. 
Where are you anyway? 
Pout pulls on his lips without his permission as he strains his ears but he can’t hear a single sound. He checks the clock again, then checks one more time that he’s not seeing wrong. You should be here by now. He accounted for everything - how long your night routine takes, a little snack if you felt like it, the time you’d need to be away from him after the fight, the time you’d waste on thinking whether you should hang onto the resentment or not. You should be here already. You should’ve been here ages ago. So where are you?
It goes against his pride that he gets up and makes his way to the living room where he expects you’d be sulking. And you are there - sleeping soundly.
He huffs in disbelief, hands on his hips as he watches you sleep while he can’t even keep his eyes closed. Does he mean nothing to you? How can you sleep without him?
He has half a mind to wake you up - he walks up to you and leans down, still undecided whether he should do it. What would he say? He can’t admit he can’t sleep without you, so he’d just look like a dick. Besides, you sleeping here means you’re still upset, so you wouldn’t come to bed anyway. Then he notices the dried tears in the corner of your eyes. 
He frowns, any thoughts of waking you up gone from his head. Were you actually mad? The argument wasn’t long or, in his eyes, that big of a deal. True, he was also quite exhausted, so it’s kind of foggy and he knows he was a bit too harsh. He also admits he was in the wrong, a fact he realized during the first two hours of his tossing and turning when he remembered that the events happened differently from what he initially thought. But it wasn’t a big deal anyway… You don’t usually cry over petty arguments. And he knows better than to hope for any sleep now.
Joshua leaves for the bedroom quietly, sighing once he lies down in bed. The pout tugs on his lips again. He feels wronged too. You could’ve just told him instead of immediately getting defensive and calling him wrong when he just didn’t remember at the moment. Why would you cry? Was he really that mean? He doesn’t think he was. He tries to sleep, but over what remains of the night, he can’t get more than a couple minutes of sleep at the time.
Safe to say it didn’t exactly help his sour mood that he didn’t rest at all. As soon as he decides to get up for the day, he struts into the kitchen and starts on boiling the water for his coffee and taking out things to prepare himself breakfast.
“What the fuck, Joshua?” you groan from the adjacent room, voice dripping with annoyance and hostility. Of course the noise would wake you up. And now he can’t exactly explain why he thought he’d get his usual morning greeting - well he didn’t think at all, but now that the routine is broken and not one nice word is spoken to him, he pauses. He swallows uneasily thinking of how it usually goes - waking up with you in his arms or you hovering above him, wishing him a good morning with the sweetest kisses. Not this.
He snaps out of his, his pettiness wavering a little, but not enough. He was in the wrong, but you could’ve explained that to him more yesterday. Not like he was in a state of mind to listen to you, but you could’ve tried… He’s too tired for this.
So he keeps doing his thing, taking out the vegetables to cut. He notices you disappearing into the bedroom, to change and freshen up he supposes. It doesn’t feel great to have you walk away from him without another word.
He’s cutting vegetables when you return. At this point he doesn’t expect much, but he also doesn’t expect you to walk straight past him, barely stop the cupboard door from hitting his head when you take out your mug. He also feels something die inside him when you pour the boiling water into only one mug, making a drink for yourself despite there being enough water for both of you.
His focus is more on you than the knife in his hand, which is not the safest thing when he’s trying to cut the carrot, but he needs to be ready and catch every word you’ll say. Because you need to say something, right? Wrong, apparently. You’re just sitting there sipping your coffee and scrolling on your phone without paying any attention to him. Does he not matter to you?
He wants to get angry, wants to heave a long and angry sigh, slam the knife down and confront you - but that’s not him. It does cross his mind, he just can’t do it. It’d scare you and it’d make him feel like one of those stereotypical angry husbands and that’s the exact opposite of what he wants. Opposite of what he should do if he wants to ever have the chance to call himself your husband.
He closes his eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths. This situation was ridiculous. He can’t go another day without a proper sleep and he doesn’t think he can get through breakfast with you ignoring him. Was Joshua’s pride really more important than you? No. Of course not. Especially not when it was all so stupid and ultimately his fault. 
“I was wrong,” he sighs, he finally puts the knife down before he can cut his finger off, “I’m sorry.”
He turns around, and after what feels like eternity you’re looking at him. You sigh too, rubbing your eyes. Properly seeing you now, he notices you must’ve had a restless night just like him. It makes the last remains of his pettiness dissipate. He opens his arms cautiously, hoping, wishing… You get up and hug him back, let him hold you as he wraps his arm around your middle and cradles your head with the other one. Finally he feels like he can breathe.
“I’m glad you apologized,” you rub his back, and fortunately you don’t flinch away when he kisses the side of your head. He hums sheepishly, squeezing you a little tighter. “I was really frustrated with you. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, you could’ve already apologized yesterday.”
“I know,” he acknowledges. Looking back, he shouldn’t have brought out the issue out of nowhere in the first place. “Are you still mad at me?”
“I wasn’t mad, just frustrated,” you repeat, “It’s fine now.”
He nods, letting you go just enough that he can kiss you properly. His morning feels much better immediately. You smile at him and he’s wondering why would he ever do anything to threaten that smile. He doesn’t want to let you go now that he has you back in his arms, but he’s hungry and he thinks you must be too. “I’ll make breakfast for us, hm?”
You free yourself from his embrace rather than him allowing you to pull away. His reluctance shows in his hands taking hold of yours and bringing them to his lips, lingering. You give him a reassuring smile and only then does he let go. 
What you notice before going back to your chair, before moving from the spot, is Joshua looking at your cup on the table in a way that you can only describe as a puppy watching his favorite toy spinning in the washer. You don’t think he noticed you saw, or that he meant for you to see at all, and it takes a lot not to start laughing. It does give you some satisfaction, though, to know that the argument and his own mistake didn’t leave him unaffected. His shoulders are still slumping and he looks so down you’d think you didn’t make up already. 
“Joshua?” you call his name and he quickly turns his head towards you as soon as he puts the knife down again. You chuckle and rest your head on his shoulder. “Should I make you a cup of coffee?”
“Yes please, thank you,” he beams at you, eyes turning into crescents when you kiss his cheek.
You pull out a mug, conscious of his eyes following your every movement. Something about your choice of the piece of ceramics must be not up to his standards if his displeased grunt is any indication. However when you look at him, he only gives you a small smile.
“What’s wrong?” you cross your arms over your chest. He grows timid, looking away. You roll your eyes. You’re almost sure you’re being played for attention, but you will give him the benefit of a doubt this time because he seemed genuinely sorry for the fight. It’s cute how he melts into you when you hug him from behind, your hands resting on his stomach. 
“What about the matching ones we got for Christmas instead?” he mumbles almost too quiet for you to hear.
“I already have my own cup though,” you frown.
“You need to make a new one,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world
“Huh?”
“We’re gonna restart this morning,” he explains calmly, “I won’t be an asshole and we’ll have a nice breakfast together with our cute matching cups.”
“You called them cringy before.”
“Don’t ruin the vision,” he warns playfully. You hold his gaze, hoping he’ll cave but he doesn’t. You break first.
“What am I supposed to do with the other cup though?” you laugh at your ridiculous boyfriend, but he’s not done being unreasonable.
“Bring it to me,” his tone is suspicious, so you have no idea why you listen. You get to watch as he downs the rest of your morning drink in a few long gulps and puts the cup in a sink. “There, problem solved.”
“Joshua Hong, you’re insane,” you sigh. You’re smiling though - so it’s his win anyway. He won and now he’ll get to watch you boil more water and prepare coffee for both of you, because you need to match one hundred percent of course. It’s still not the safest to cut vegetables when he’s so distracted but his fragile heart is practically jumping off his chest when you take out the very cheesy matching Christmas cups and set them down. “Stop staring.”
“I need to make sure you’re doing it right,” he teases. He’s happy that everything is fine, happy that his morning returned to normal and happy that-
“Do you think I can’t?” you quirk a brow at him, pausing the preparations. 
He swallows and nearly trips over his over feet closing the distance between you and cupping your face in his hands. 
“No, baby, I’m so sorry,” he frowns, kissing your forehead and lingering there, waiting for your verdict. He hears you sigh and his chest feels thigh.
“You’re so cute, Shua,” there’s a smile in your voice and his heart skips a beat when he hears his nickname, “I’m not upset, I’m just playing with you.”
“Don’t do this to me,” he whines, burying his face into your shoulder. His arms wrap around you and you’re stuck between his body and the counter, trapped in his hug. All you can do is hug him back and press some kisses to his neck.
“I’m sorry, baby,” you smile, “How about I finish the coffee, hm? Then I can hug you and cling to you to make up for it.”
“I made you upset first,” he mumbles. You roll your eyes at his sudden self-awareness. He pulls away to look at you, a slight pout on his lips. “But you took advantage of that. I think I deserve a kiss as well.”
You should’ve known it was all a manipulation tactic.
But knowing or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you kiss him and smile against his lips as you do when you feel him smile too. He doesn’t let go until he’s had his fill, until he leaves you breathless and chasing after his lips. 
“I missed you,” he whispers, coming back for just one more kiss, “Hurry up with the coffee.”
You should scold him. You should remind him that he is the reason why your morning is so messy.
But you don’t. 
Instead you do exactly as he told you and enjoy having him close again once the coffee is done. And you enjoy as Joshua feeds you the first piece of breakfast for a taste test, and you enjoy him pulling out a chair for you, bringing you your plate, and holding your hand the entire time you eat.
Most of all you enjoy his warm embrace when you lay down for a nap that won’t make up for the cold and lonely night, but that feels heavenly nonetheless.
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pomefioredove · 3 days
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Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
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Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
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Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
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Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
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Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
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theminecraftbee · 1 day
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How do you think Three would feel about season 10?
man so. okay the thing is that by season 10 things have probably butterfly effected so hard off of the beaten path that i have no idea if three would have much season 10 as they know it.
for example: season 10 starts with demise. would three... even have done demise? probably not in its early days of hermitcraft, right, like, that's a game grian would design but that i think three would be a little more hesitant to start up. a game about killing people in a fashion with Rules and Creativity is something three could thrive with, sure, and i like to imagine three takes inspiration from like, cleo's head games to come up with a version of demise it ends up enjoying, maybe? but like, even that element is hard to say WOULD happen.
if we go with "season 10's haunted water is an inherent element of the season", i could fully see three getting wrapped up in the fishing thing, because three is very stubborn and if it gives itself a mission of "fish up a mending book" it WILL do that. it would not try to start a cult about it or build a secret chamber but i think it would make like, a mending book spreadsheet or something equally deranged but in a less "big temple" way and in more of "three is the kind of person who made a family tree of sheep with jimmy" way.
i do think a difference between three and grian is that three just. doesn't strike me as particularly possessable. it wouldn't become obsessed with the ocean in the way grian did i think. i think it would like, fixate on the mending book, get it, go "that was stupid", and... i could SEE three liking fishing a lot actually, but less in a "getting possessed" way and more in a "it's a relatively low-simulation activity and also it gets to kill something" way, lol.
anyway i think a really interesting thing here is that three... would not do the permit office. like three Would Not Understand the bit of being purposefully unhelpful. even many years out from being three, the weapon, and instead being three, the person, i think three never QUITE stops finding it sort of inherently frustrating to intentionally do a task wrong. three tends more towards malicious compliance when it doesn't like doing something, but like, fully would love tedious paperwork. additionally, okay, maybe by season 10 three is a bit more likely to take charge fully, but i sort of suspect cub would end up the permit spearhead, not three. three would love the concept of the structure permits provide! three would not inherently like being the person in charge of the permits.
actually this gets into one of the more fundamental differences in personality between three and grian: grian likes being in charge of things but hates and avoids responsibility. three is a bit uncomfortable being in charge of things, but is perfectly comfortable with responsibility and will even take responsibility for things it technically doesn't have to. and at their CORE grian and three both have this supremely type-a thing going on but they express it in nearly opposite ways and i suspect this would be one of the main ways they'd clash, honestly.
but all of that is to say: three would not do the permit office bit, but WOULD like the permits. they provide a Structure to how shops work that three would appreciate and i think by season ten i could see three having gotten into the art of Ruthless Capitalism because it's sort of like killing people except instead you take their money. (three describes it this way back in season seven after etho takes it under his wing and etho wheezes and tells three to never let go of that. anyway.)
so that's just some of my thoughts on season ten with three this is a FUN QUESTION thank you!
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ilovedthestars · 2 days
Text
So i was bitten by the zine bug this semester and i keep thinking that a collaborative zine would be really fun to organize, especially one i could open up to my little corner of the internet. Not the shiny polished fandom zines that are really cool but also more of an anthology than a zine. I'm talking DIY photocopier and scissors zines--or as close as you can get over the internet, as the case may be.
The most fun and low stakes idea i have at the moment is a doodle zine. Like, what kinds of scribbles or shapes or little creatures do you draw in the margins of your notebooks? Fill a zine-sized page with them and send me a photo! Zero expectation of artistic skill or effort, just fill a page with marks and have fun.
And then i could stitch them together into both a digital zine file and a printable version you could use to make a paper copy. I think that would be a cool way to get as close to the physical collage vibes of a traditional zine as you can in a project that would obviously have to be conducted over the internet, where we can't just hand each other pieces of paper.
Anyway, i finally have both the motivation and the energy to potentially dive in to making this happen, but only if other people are actually interested. And this would look very different if 8 people want to participate vs. if 40 do. So:
Please feel free to reblog/spread this if you know others who might be interested! Right now this is just an idea i'm playing around with, but it might become a Real Thing very quickly if other people are also excited about it.
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the-modern-typewriter · 14 hours
Note
Just wanted to say thank you so, so much for writing Fate's Favourite. I actually found and loved your blog before I ever found that fanfic, and it was a delight to know it was written by you, and it's so clear how you've improved. But Fate's Favourite will always have a part of my heart, because it's the first story I've read that just has a platonic friendship that feels as equal as a romantic one without being romantic? And as a lonely aroace that means everything. EVERYTHING. (1/2)
(2/2) I had a conversation today that reminded me that I'm never going to have the queerplatonic relationship I want that I've always wanted since I was a child, and how it makes me want to write one so much more, but then I've never managed to write the story I've wanted to write my entire life because I'd always be afraid of being accused of queerbaiting or people just going, 'but it's actually just a gay romance this isn't what friendship looks like' and just. Thank you for Fate's Favourite.
--
Wow. FF is a blast from the past!
You are very welcome.
Apologies for the long, self-indulgent reply.
That story was one of the first things I ever properly wrote and my first (maybe second?) truly long-form story ever. I thus have a soft spot for it, even though in terms of craft and technique I can't so much as look at it without seeing all my numerous beginner flaws and cringing and can't bring myself to actually point people to it. Much improvement since then, as you say!
(An excellent reminder that writing is a learned skill.)
Anyway. The other interesting thing about that story is that I wrote it before I'd ever heard of asexuality or realised that was what I was. I was a very confused teenager being bombarded with this pressure to have crushes and date people and all that general societal messaging we have about romance being the most important thing ever. Especially in YA.
So I'd go home after school and write that story.
Obviously it's more unhealthy than what I'd want for myself in my real life, but the sheer intensity of feeling and importance of the platonic main relationship was something I had also never seen before but craved. And still crave, honestly. So I feel ya.
As for queerbaiting...
A lot of readers at the time told me they viewed the story as 'pre-romance'. AKA, it's a romantic relationship and they haven't realised it yet for whatever reason. They mostly didn't mean that badly, I don't think.
(Although I sometimes think though that if the term 'queerbaiting' was as broadly known and misused then as it is now that I would have been mercilessly lambasted out of ever writing again! And I wouldn't have known how to articulate the fact that wasn't, actually, what I was doing. I think we need to be kind to new writers. I think 'content creator' is gutting something vital in the ecosystem. But that's another rabbit hole.)
So I've been there. It happens. But other people's bad takes didn't change the story and what it meant to me as a lonely ace teenager or what it meant to you.
I have had readers before make a similar comment to you about how it was the first time they got to see something so important to their heart portrayed.
That matters so much more than whatever people say about your writing who don't need it.
Which is why we have to keep writing the stories.
Even if it's clumsy and raw. Even if it's the first thing you've ever tried. Even if it's (especially if) it's a messed up fantasy straight from the most primal part of your brain.
If we don't write it, it won't exist.
And that's so much worse.
The nay-sayers can come to the party, but it wasn't thrown in their honour.
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gachawolfiebloom · 1 day
Text
A Grumpy Troll and A Prince
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Chapter 2: An Unwanted Visitor
Tags: Comedy, action, adventure, and romance
The trolls were certainly not kidding when they said it was going to be a loud and crazy party. Everywhere you went there would be a shower of lights and music. Bob was handling the vinyl record on his dj set while some glowing bugs were accompanying him. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING! GET AWAY FROM MY SET!" He tried shooing them until one flew into his mouth and his eyes started to glow.
"HOOOLLLYYY CRAAAAPPP THHHIIIISSSS ISSSSS AWWWWESSSSOOOMMMEEE!"
Meggy was dancing in the crowd before she noticed that Mario was missing. "Hey, where is..." She turned to find Mario singing "La la la la la la" while being hoisted up by tons of trolls that looked like they were about to collapse under the hundreds of pounds Mario weighed. Tari and Melony were helping Tag6 with throwing glitter into the audience.
Unknowingly, one ball of glitter accidentally hit poor Boopkins and the crowd went silent. Was he...dead...
Boopkins sprung back to life like nothing had happened and everyone just dismissed it, carrying on with the party. Up on stage, Four was dancing along with all the others and having a great time while someone was watching him.
Three glanced at the bubbly, happy troll. Made him sick. All this happiness and celebrating and for what? A day that just reminded him of the hardships he had faced in the past. Where he lost T-
Three snapped out of his miserable thoughts and rolled his eyes. If they wanted to die then that was just fine with him. It wasn't his problem anyway. A small, white fluffy dog came up to him with some more sticks which Three took and then patted the pup's head. Eggdog was Three's loyal pet that comforted the grumpy troll and kept him company when he felt lonely. With nothing more to do, the two made their way back to Three's evil villain lair, unknown to what happened next.
Four took it way too far and yelled "MORE GLITTER!" to which in an instant, a flash of colors and light had blinded the trolls and a massive explosion occurred.
On the other side of the forest, a figure with a torn up suit, bent antennas, and a dirty screen was reading off a map, stuck with the life of a commoner. The map had tons of x's scribbled on it, indicating all the places that this mysterious character had searched for in hopes of finding the one thing that could give his life purpose again.
He could have sworn he heard some kind of eruption as Mr Puzzles turned around, grabbed a telescope and peered through the lens. There it was again. Fireworks graced the sky with an image of the prince. A wide grin spread across Mr Puzzles's face as he knew exactly what the cause of this was. After many tireless years of searching..."Trolls."
"Alright everyone, I want to make an announcement." Four and his father were on stage as the prince wanted to do something special for him. Mario interrupted him by shouting out "Hey! That's Smg4! Mario's best friend!" A wave of shushes came from the crowd as the king cleared his throat in an insensitive manner.
"I'd like to take a second to celebrate our king, my father. 20 years ago tonight, he saved all of us from those dreaded-"
BOOM.
A series of echoing footsteps drew closer and closer as the trolls all looked up to see a man with a tv head, staring back at them. In a stroke of dumbness, Four tried to be hospitable by asking him "Uh...you like memes?" Mr Puzzles smiled and zipped open a bag to take the future feast of the Bergens back to where they belonged. "RUN!" the prince yelled as all the trolls sprinted in different directions.
This certainly wouldn't do. Mr Puzzles decided to pick trolls one by one. Luigi was shaking, terrified as he instantly got scooped up. Four rushed off the stage until he heard a familiar voice. "MARIO JR! WHERE ARE YOU!?" He saw his best friend searching for his pet when it was actually behind him, but it was too late as Mr Puzzles grabbed both of them.
"EVERYONE BLEND IN!" The trolls used their hair to make them look like leaves or grass. At this point, anything would suffice. Four almost got taken as well, but managed to duck out of the way. He then saw that Boopkins was trying to run as fast as his tiny feet would take him, soon before Bob came running and pushed him out of the way. "MOVE GREEN TURD!" A hand blocked their path and dragged them to the bag as Bob yelled out "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"
He looked another way and saw that Tari and Melony were hyperventilating, scrambling around instead of running, and it wasn't long before they too were captured. "Four help!" The prince found Meggy with a frightened group of children all huddled up in the open. He and Meggy guided them over to a patch of tall grass and told them to disguise themselves.
Meggy had unfortunately forgot to hide herself in an effort to protect her friends and was snatched right in front of Four's eyes. "Meggy!" He then saw Tag6 being pulled to the bag. The prince quickly extended his hair to make a rope for Tag6 to latch onto, but it almost didn't matter.
The grip loosened with every passing second until...both of them were separated and Four watched in horror as his friends were all stuffed into the bag. Mr Puzzles looked around for anymore wandering trolls and saw the king, hitting his foot and yelling "Let them go at once!"
Four saw Mr Puzzles reaching down for his father as he quickly saved him and hid under the stage platform. Not a sound. One peep and they were dead. Mr Puzzles crouched down to look at their hiding spot. They were gone...? Four's breath quickened as that screen kept looking straight at them. After a few seconds, Mr Puzzles realized he would have to come back later to gather the rest of them. He gave up and observed the remains of the village. "Thanks for throwing the biggest, loudest..."
"Craziest party ever!" Mario finished as he stuck his head out of the bag. Mr Puzzles shoved him back in and set off. Next stop, Bergen town. After the coast was clear, Four slowly removed the hair incasement that had blended in with the scenery. He got out and looked out in despair on what just happened. His friends were captured and the village was in ruins. All the other trolls got out from their hiding places as well to approach the king and prince on the situation.
"Is it coming back?" One of the trolls asked. "What are we gonna do now?" Another inquired. The prince tried to fight back the tears in his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. Before he could provide an answer, the king quickly instructed "We have to find another home immediately! Everyone hurry before that...thing comes back!" Four was shocked. "We have to rescue my friends." The king shook his head and said "No. We have to run. Now come on, let's go!" Just up and abandoning everything like that. This wasn't the leader that the prince knew when he was small.
"What about no troll left behind?" The king stopped in his tracks and sighed. "I'm sorry Four. That was a long time ago and I'm no longer the great leader you admired so much." The prince thought to himself for a second and retorted back "Then I'll go and save them!"
"NO FOUR! THAT'S WAY TOO DANGEROUS!" He didn't stand down. "I have to try." His father didn't believe him. "You won't be able to make it to Bergen town by yourself. That's impossible." There was no response. It was impossible to get there by yourself. You would need help. That's when an idea struck in Four's mind. He knew just the troll to ask.
Three was sitting at his desk, staring sadly at the smashed invitation. Eggdog was laying down next to him, softly whimpering and looking up at him with adorable puppy eyes. Would he have felt better if he had gone to the party? Three opened a drawer that revealed a bunch of other cards that Four had sent him in the past. Even though he declined them all, he couldn't help but save them.
He then heard a knock at the door. Quickly, he rushed to stuff the invitation in the drawer with all the others, but they all began sounding off. The knocking turned into pounding as Three kept shoving them all inside while shushing them. Once he finally got them all in, he could hear the voice of his unwanted guest and sighed in annoyance.
Outside, Four was banging on the door to Three's lair while he kept calling out his name. "Three! Three! THREE ARE YOU IN THERE!" A piece of the door mat that read: "Go away losers!" opened and angry red eyes popped out.
"I'm not going to your party! Now leave me alone!"
"The party's over! We just got attacked by someone who is working for the Bergens!"
Three's eyes narrowed. "I knew it!" The door mat flung open and Three grabbed Four to bring him inside. The prince watched as the grumpy troll began setting out multiple locks and traps all around them. Once he finished with the last mousetrap, the two fell into silence. Three kept looking up, waiting for the sounds of Bergens to come flocking by his door.
"Three I-" He placed a hand over his mouth and shushed him. Four pushed his hand away as this was kinda important here. "I have to tell you something-" Three pointed a finger in his face and aggressively hushed him again. "I was just gonna-" Three was so irritated that this idiot would not shut up when told to so he whipped his head around and furiously went "SHHHHHH!!!"
Four groaned in frustration and quietly raised his hand. "What!? What could be so important that it's worth leading the Bergens right to us!?"
"It's gone!"
"You don't know that! It could still be out there! Watching...waiting...listening..." Three made very intense eye contact when he said that last part which kind of freaked Four out. He shook off that thought. Now that the awkward silence between them was over, it was back to addressing the situation to Three. "No it left! It took Meggy, Boopkins, Bob, Melony, Tari, Mario, Luigi, AND TAG6!"
Three rolled his eyes at that name while Four stopped freaking out for a moment and took a breath. "Which is why I have come to ask...will you come with me to Bergen town to rescue everyone?" Three's eyes widened and he looked kind of ticked off. "WHAT!? NO!" Four tried to reason with him. "Three! You can't say no! They're your friends!" He stopped the prince right there. "Not so fast! They're your friends, not mine."
"I'm staying here in my evil villain lair." Four threw his eyes back in annoyance to find that he had come all this way for nothing. "Oh that's just great. You're the one guy who knows more about Bergens than anyone, but when we finally need you, you're just going to hide down here forever!"
"Forever? No." He flipped a switch that Four had somehow missed on the way in. They began to descend down on a platform to his lair. "I really only have enough supplies down here to last me 10 years, maybe 11, if I'm willing to store and drink coffee from the beans I find...which I am!"
Four looked around in amazement. He had no idea that Three had built all of this. He had never bothered to invite Four, or anyone else to his home. "You all said that I was crazy, but who's crazy now?"
"..."
"Me. Crazy prepared."
The platform had arrived at the bottom and Three stepped off to store the sticks he had gathered earlier. Four then felt something brush up against his leg. The friendly little Eggdog wanted to say hello to the unexpected guest and barked happily at him. Four smiled and patted his head, then worked up the courage to admit he was wrong.
"Look, I'm sorry I didn't listen to you." Three turned with a raised eyebrow to hear what he had to say. "You told me not to throw the party, I threw it anyway, it's my fault they were taken, and now I don't know what to do!" Three crossed his arms and said "Why don't you try praying to the memes for their freedom." Four looked unamused while Three had a smug grin.
"Well...thanks anyway." He headed off as Three called out "Sure. See you in 10 years idiot." Four kept his unimpressed eyeballs on Three as he pulled the lever. Once he was gone, Three's smile slowly faded. He started walking away when he heard the platform coming back.
"Hey Three? I was wondering if I could borrow something."
"What."
"You're lair!"
"WHAT!?"
The room was swarmed instantly by the entire population of trolls, all in desperate need of a home. Three grabbed Eggdog as the two were overwhelmed by the now crowded space they were sharing. "FOUR! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" Four placed his hands on his hips like a sassy teenager and said "You said you had enough supplies to last 10 years right?" Three couldn't believe this moron had turned his own words against him. "To last me 10 years! ME! It will last them 2 weeks!"
"Then I guess I better hurry!" He began walking to the exit when Three stopped him by grabbing his hand. "Wait! You won't last a day out there."
Four pointed to the collection of trolls and roasted him back by saying "And you won't last a day in here." Three looked around and saw all the trolls drinking his coffee rations, playing with his bear traps, and smashing his valuables. He looked at the prince confused on how he was played while Four walked off.
"Four!"
He turned to find his father, filled with concern. "Please be careful." He nodded and said with reassurance "I can do this." His father hugged him and let his son carry on with the journey. Four got back on the platform and said "Bye everyone! See you soon!" Three pushed through the crowd as they waved back "Good luck prince Smg4!"
Four stared at his hug time bracelet and counted down with his fingers "And 3...2...1..." A ding sounded off and that was his cue to leave as he pulled the lever. All the trolls's bracelets sounded off and Three's pupils shrunk instantly. "Hug time!" He slowly backed away as the crowd drew closer like zombies. "No..." Four watched Three become more panicked induced as the trolls came closer and closer.
"No! NO! NOOOO!"
Chapter 3: Coming Soon
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Ok so I made a post on my main about things that irk me in certain Ace Attorney fanfics and now I wanna do another but with more of the sexual things in A A fanfics that irk me.
Let me start this by saying I am not putting anyone down for thinking along these lines and I’m also a bisexual genderqueer person, not a gay or bisexual man. But I still wanna talk about how these two are usually portrayed in relationships and how kind of tropey and gross some of them are.
I have a lot of thoughts on this. And it might be disjointed so bear with me.
So, for one thing, Miles is not the designated bottom and Phoenix is not the designated top. People do this because Miles is seen as a twink and pretty boy (and I’ll give you pretty boy, but if anything Miles is a twunk) and Phoenix is seen as more masc and manly (He is also a twunk). And I can give you most of those but that all doesn’t nesscarily mean that Miles is the bottom and Phoenix is the top.
This happens a lot with gay/bisexual male relationships. The bi guy is usually the top and the gay guy is usually the bottom. (Think of Zuko x Sokka from ATLA and Ryan and Chad from High School Musical) (Surprisngly, these two ships are also blue/red) ANYWAY. It just irks me because I don’t think that’s actually good relationship representation for them? And good representation for gay relationships in general.
If anything, they’re switches.
The more fem guy doesn’t always have to be the bottom and the masc guy doesn’t always have to be the top. And the gay guy doesn’t always have to be the bottom and the bi guy doesn’t always have to be the top.
This also is how it usually goes for Kristoph and Phoenix. Phoenix is seen as the top because he’s more manly and a hunk and Kristoph is seen as the bottom because he’s more feminine. But I don’t think that’s the case.
If anything, they’re also switches. (Kristoph likes the control when he tops and Phoenix likes the power he has over Kristoph because of what happened with his badge and it’s a way to gain power back)
I guess this is also my headcannons but it just irks me and I can’t help it and I wanna talk about it.
I might add more but that’s about the gist of what irks me personally. Feel free to comment and add but please do not be mean.
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catbeeisafraid · 22 hours
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I don’t have like a ton to say about this but I have mixed feelings- also spoilers ✨
I like Crystal I really do but at times her dialogue bothered me and some of her behavior was kind of obnoxious to me- like at times when she started aggressively inserting herself into situations and just kind of made it about her? Like in episode seven (though this happened many other times too) where she was having a total fit about not going to hell when it’s clearly for her own good and not about her no matter how much she cares? and I totally understand that this is her being written as an immature teenager who hasn’t been dead or a teen for 30-100 years but as a teenager this sort of selfish immature writing kind of gives me icky feelings because I know so many people who are mostly emotionally intelligent not just raging all the time.- and I mean that for a lot of teenagers and teen girls in writing, to make them tough and likable they are made volitile and annoying which to me is not likable (my opinion, I just don’t like the trope that’s not what I’m talking about right now anyway-) I do think she had good development and I liked her a lot better by the end, some people on other forums were saying that her actress was weaker than the rest of the cast and I don’t really know about that? I think maybe she was artificial at times but I’m blaming that on the writing. I also didn’t like her dialogue about her “crazy demon ex” either, it felt very forced? -Not her emotions about the whole mind cage thing I get that but just all of the “UGH WHY ARE THEY SO FUCKING NOSY IM JUST TRYING TO GET OVER MY STUPID STUPID CRAZY ABUSIVE STALKER DEMON EX BOYFRIEND UGHHH ILL DOUBLE KILL THOSE BOYS IF ITS TGE LAST THING I DO” that felt out of place to me- Lastly I get that this is also an aspect of her teenager-ness but I didn’t like the amount she cursed? I have no qualms with cursing but it felt to me like when little kids and middle schoolers start cursing where they just explosively yell fuck when like literally nothing warranting that kind of expletive has happened? She curses too often it makes her sound really stupid? Like the ep 7 “take me to hell I won’t die” thing, she was screaming at Charles who was being pretty reasonable like “fuck that I’m going he’s my fucking friend too fine then fuck it- fuck you ill find another way to get to hell” like yes she was emotional but that isn’t what teenagers sound like guys?
idk- I’d love to hear what other people think and to be clear I do like her I just focused on the negative- I guess it’s a human thing. She had lots of strong points just I ending up not liking how much she was on screen, this isn’t really about you? It’s about the dead boy detective? Give me more ghosts or Edwin or Charles or Jenny or Niko or Mr walrus please? They were fun I like them? I just felt like there were times where she was over shadowing Edwin and Charles and they are what’s actually important to the show? I think I’d like her more in smaller doses- I felt like I spent too much time having to stop and be like “girl step back this is not about you, you are not the star right now”
and to the argument of her actress being inexperienced or over acting or just not great- I have no specific feelings on this but like the other main cast had for the most part very little screen acting experience and were Fantastic so i don’t know what to feel in that area? so yes, i think crystal is an interesting character and i think she grew on me and developed in the season but i also definitely think that she’s annoying and I’m conflicted because i don’t want to not like her-..
what are your thoughts? Id love to hear different perspectives but please be nice to me because I’ll probably delete this and cry (unless that was your goal, then carry on)
that was all like super ramble-y sorry- but I hope I communicated semi accurately! Thank you
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seramilla · 1 day
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If / whenever Odette proposes to Verosika— it’s not something big or grand. Instead it’s intimate and quiet when Odette shows the ring to verosika, it’s a beautiful ring— it had probably cost Odette a pretty penny. No one had seen it coming, not even Carmilla—who knows her girls like the palm of her hand.
Odette and Verosika have talked about marriage before. It's to be expected after watching, and participating in, Carmilla and Sera's wedding. Theirs had been an extravagant, social affair, thanks to Zestial and Lucifer, with every blue-blood in Hell who was on good terms with them present. But to the girls, neither really finds those kinds of huge public expressions of love appealing.
Verosika has to put on a show every day, so she'd told Odette, if and when it happens for her, she wants it to be more real. Not during one of her shows, and certainly not on stage; just something small between herself and her beloved. Odette can't say she disagrees. In fact, that's exactly what she'd hoped Verosika would say. Because that's exactly what she'd been planning.
Verosika already has everything a demon could want, and then some. So does Odette, honestly, and while both demons can afford to give each other the world, that's not really what Verosika wants, or what Odette wants, either. She desires to make it special, but also not too over-the-top. She decides to get Ozzy's advice on the right way to approach this. He is, of course, very helpful...but mostly about the honeymoon, and all the fun things that can come after.
He does know the name of a jewelsmith in Greed, though, and after some conversations with them back and forth over the phone, Odette orders a personalized pink diamond in a gold band, fit exactly to Odette's specifications. Not a big one...it's honestly rather small, but still worth a small fortune, she comes to find out. She still thinks it's more than enough to make Verosika happy. Odette hopes so, anyway.
Odette chooses to ask her on a night after Verosika gets back from a tour. They'd already had a date at Ozzy's planned. The king of Lust didn't have any other shows planned, and just reserved a small corner of the showroom for the two of them, allowing the musical stylings of Fizzarolli to complement their dinner of something Odette is too nervous to eat at the moment.
Verosika seems to notice Odette's not eating. Her girlfriend does have a hard time remembering to feed herself sometimes, and she brings it up to Odette, who is quickly shocked out of her state of internalized anxiety.
"Babydoll, you going to eat anything? You look pale."
"Oh! Yes! Sorry! Umm...shit. I was just thinking."
Verosika takes a sip of her wine. They'd only ordered one bottle; Odette wanted to be sober for the events yet to come.
"Thinking about what?"
Verosika reaches across the cozy table to touch Odette's hand. Odette's other hand is fumbling with the small box tucked safely into her pants pocket. Fizz has finished his last musical number, and walks off-stage to take a break. If there's any moment to act, Odette thinks, it's now. Taking a breath, she stands, and moves toward Verosika, before kneeling on one knee at her feet.
"Verosika Mayday...!" Odette starts, pausing more out of anxiety than dramatic effect. She hopes it makes her look cool, and not anxious, at any rate. "Ever since I met you, here, after what seems like a lifetime ago...my world has never been the same. I never imagined a literal pop star would ever look my way, let alone talk to me. You've taught me so much about actually living, and loving...and to never take anything for granted."
Odette pauses again, getting the box ready in her pocket.
"You've also taught me patience, and to love myself, and to never judge a book by its cover. You're my best friend. My confidant. My north star. I want to spend the rest of eternity with you, for however long that lasts. So, um, will you do me the honor of, uh...hold on..."
After a few fumbling attempts and only a little blushing, Odette manages to take the box out of her pocket, and opens in it front of Verosika. The succubus is wide-eyed, the pink of the diamond shining back at Odette through her eyes. Odette finishes her question with only a little bit of a flush on her face. She hopes Verosika will forgive her awkwardness.
"Will you marry me, Verosika?"
Odette doesn't even have to wait for an answer. One minute, she's kneeling at Verosika's feet, and the next, Verosika is lifting her off the ground, and placing her on the table on her back. The rest of their food and drink be damned. It gets everywhere. Odette's glad she's not wearing one of her lab coats, because it's soaking into the black pants suit she wore for the occassion. She puts the ring down on the table, before she drops it.
Verosika kisses her, full and flagrant, forcefully on the lips, and pulls away with a smack! She only lifts from Odette long enough to screech into the room, "Yes! Fuck, Odette, yes! I will!" before she's kissing her again, pushing Odette even more into the table. Odette worries they might be causing a scene. Unfortunately, her fears are confirmed, because Fizzarolli's already making obscene hand gestures behind the stage, grinning with his tongue out the side of his mouth.
So much for being discrete.
Fuck it, Odette thinks. Let him watch. She brings Verosika down further on top of her, and really starts sucking face with her girlfriend -- no, her fiancé -- right there on the table. Ozzie and Fizz give them two pairs of thumbs up, but neither of them notice. They're too busy celebrating, in their own little world, ignoring the captive audience behind them.
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malacandrax · 2 days
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hi sry this is a lil long but i just felt like giving my own comments about ur post re: feeling left out/regarding more detailed work, and wanted to say that your work singlehandedly has inspired me SO much to the point that because of your more simplistic coloring/shading and focus on movement/body language, i was finally able to find a coloring/rendering style that i actually like aesthecially and enjoy doing! i've struggled w replicating color in a way i like digitally for over 6 years but your work, and especially so your sketchbook scans on patreon have been so useful for inspiration and for my own understanding of anatomy and what not. we're always our own worst critics with comparison and whatnot, but please know that your work and your style are a huge accomplishment and skill in their own right, and your comics inspire me to keep studying so i can one day make my own!!! i'm so thankful you share your work with us and to have come across it and be able to draw inspiration off it! your colors, expressions, and the palpable intimacy and dynamic character interactions are so amazing and specifically unique to your work, never doubt the impact it has just because of other's having a different style or approach or something <3
This is so extremely nice I don't even know what to say!!! I honestly feel so hyped that my style inspired someone else, I feel like it's not something I expected and its SO COOL. I sometimes feel like my style isn't particularly STYLISH you know, I often admire really strong punchy styles, so it's nice to hear my own kind of chiller style is inspiring! And that the things I enjoy come across as strengths, too! Also I am so happy to hear someone enjoys my sketchbooks haha, they're really precious to me but I also try not to be too fussy about my art in them which means it's not 'beautiful'*- they're for studying and/or chilling out, so it's SO nice that it's inspiring nonetheless! Wishing you the best in your art journey and also I think if you want to make comics you should just give it a go! Make teeny tiny comics! [it does not have to be good] [tangent oh my god] I feel very hypocritical because for the longest time comics were something my friends made and I didn't know how to, and I felt like my style didn't work for comics, but honestly when I eventually sat down and started a long comic the style happened out of necessity, I Had to simplify or I wouldn't be able to keep up. And you can see from the links that I just did sketchy comics before and that was fine! I think it was just as valuable as making polished pages. I actually probably ended up making comics For Real because I made a silly fandom ask blog, where I kept wanting to say more than I could do in one image, and that gave me the confidence to try something longer with OC's.
ANYWAY thank you so much!
*I find polished sketchbooks so inspiring, but its so limiting imo to try to make a beautiful sketchbook HAHAHAH
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c6jpg · 1 month
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JADEITE REDOLENCE ❖ favorite chenyu vale overworld tracks
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donnatroyyyy · 11 months
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Dick and Jason fighting:
Dick: you’re nothing but a scummy, worthless piece of shit! I hope you die again! You should’ve never come back in the first place!
Jason: oh yeah?! Well you’re nothing than a big fake who doesn’t deserve to be here with the family or with superheroes in general! There’s a reason why you’re the one Bruce took the longest to adopt! It’s because you’re not worth it! You’re worthless and nobody loves you!
Dick: well at least I can get my own juice box from the grocery shop! But oh no I’m Jason Todd, the favorite child because I fucking died and I need to do everything criminally because I’m rebelling! Get over yourself you ass no one thinks you’re cool!
Jason: and people think you’re cool?! With your fucking mullet phase and need to over sexualize yourself?! Yeah fucking sure, stop blowing this out of proportion it’s a fucking juicebox!
Dick: and you’re just a fucking failure but oh look at that— Bruce still loves you for some reason!
Jason: what you’re sad cuz he doesn’t love you?!
Dick: and you’re sad because you never had a real mother?
*five minutes later*
Dick, in Jason’s doorway, has done this a million times before with all his siblings: I’m going to bat burger
Jason, was contemplating burning down Dick’s apartment, and also wanted to go ask Dick his opinion on some cargos but didn’t want to be the first to cave: I’m coming with
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something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.
“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”
#makoto naegi#Danganronpa character analysis#Danganronpa#danganronpa thh#danganronpa future arc#I fucking love Makoto Naegi man.#I think there’s a fine line of nuance to Makoto that’s easy to miss bc he doesn’t really make it known#he’s not a pushover and he’s not overpowered. he’s a people pleaser but he will say what needs to be said#he’s an immovable object and the exact opposite of Junko but he’s also just a normal guy who’s optimistic and (un)lucky#he isn’t invincible but he has immense power to his words the same way Junko did#if anything his superpower is being kind above all else. he’s compassionate to some of the worst people in the world.#he was even conpassionatr to an extent to Junko. he didnt want her to kill herself despite everything she’s done#and he still acknowledges that for years she was a classmate and friend.#I do think the more he learned abt what she did the more he’s come to actually hate her though#post the first game he always refers to her without a suffix to her name which is one of the most subtle rude things you can do#it means you have zero respect for the person you’re referring to#and he speaks about her with some venom he doesn’t use for anyone else in the future arc#he’s not incapable of feeling negative emotions#I really liked the future arc scene bc it showed that Makoto DID experience enough despair to have overcome him if he didn’t refuse#and that it still affects him deeply. people treat him like he’s either this perfect ideal Chad or this baby chick who’s so delicate#and no one really focuses on how makoto shoulders so much and yet is still vulnerable.#honestly that guy was DUE for a mental breakdown even without the tape. it would have happened eventually#I actually wrote one based on him finally hitting a breaking point after giving so much of himself away and keeping nothing for himself#that his issues that he shoves down constantly finally can’t be held down anymore. Hajime helps him bc he knows how that feels#it was a LONG time ago that I wrote that but honestly if I can remember where i was going w it I might finish it#it was initially an rp but I could make it a fic#anyway. the point is Makoto is SO much more complex than people give him credit for#the most fundamental thing about him is that he’s normal and that’s ok! that’s what helps him rise!
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puppyeared · 6 months
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if escape rooms as team building exercises became popular im not sure if id be more excited or terrified
#if it isnt already anyway.. i can see it happening as a school frosh thing. idk if it would catch on as a workplace thing#i kind of find the concept of being locked in with strangers and working to find a way out weirdly exhilarating though#at least compared to icebreakers cause i dont have to spend 10 minutes racking my brain for something to blurt out abt myself#as a bonus u could like. put people into groups and give prizes to whoever escapes first second third etc. apparently they also do themed#escape rooms.. maybe let people pick a theme? or voluntary sign up? actually this would be really fun for smth like a blind friend date#although if i found out i was locked in a room with an online friend id be too excited to actually escape LOL#ive never done an escape room before so sadly i cant speak from experience. its like up there on things i want to try next to rug tufting#workshop and visiting new art exhibits or conventions. i seriously need to get out more if it wasnt for the horrors <- school and anxiety#i was planning to invite cass to a drop-in art workshop in town but neither of us could go bc typography is making us go thru hell and back#AND THEY HAD A BUTTON MACHINE TOO#im nostalgic bc i miss working in groups and not being awkward abt it or worrying abt schedule conflicts#i realized that i learn best in groups and its a little corny but i like sharing ideas and talking through a problem#in elementary i could just sit down with friends for review and come out of it energized *and* more familiar with the material#and i could technically still do it now. but as adults we're more picky abt who we work with on top of being way more busy outside school#maybe im lonely. im shy and grew up not talking to ppl unless i absolutely have to so its hard to make friends on my own i guess#only thing getting me thru it is telling myself that humans like helping and that my cringe is overblown in my head. but its hard#hence the escape rooms. i have been able to talk to 2(!!) people though!! mostly abt school stuff but im glad to be on friendly terms#i dont really know how to be happy these days cause im constantly scaring myself abt my portfolio and finding places to work#not being ambitious is part of not wanting to put energy into something that wont work out while also not having the passion to do literall#anything else.. i should probably talk to my counsellor ugh#yapping
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