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ozzgin · 7 months

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I've been rewatching One Punch Man and the thought about a painfully average looking reader being so strong is stuck in my head

Like maybe the reader works at like a small restaurant that she's been working at for basically all her life and she just get so strong from doing basic chores and having the mental capacity to deal with bad customers

Maybe like one of the baki characters went to try the restaurant out and maybe gotten a big crush on the waiter, whose being harassed by some rando

But before the can tell the guy to scurry on out of here or get a swing at him, she just completely knocks him out with like a punch to the face or something, and maybe the guy was really big like nearly the size of a bear

Or we can take the Garou route and say that Yujiro decided to try the restaurant out just cause' and is like really demanding, enough to get the reader pissed and correct their behavior

And their way of correcting behavior is basically "stop that" and then BAM, they suddenly he's transported in an alleyway somewhere, conveniently forgetting what happened before

Ooo, just imagine the reaction of the baki characters like your crush basically is the strongest person in the world, Yujiro doesn't even compare

Knocked him away with a simple punch even when he's fully prepared for her

This silly idea basically was brewing in my mind, and since this has lots of Yuji bullying, I thought you might like it

Funnily enough I have an older request that was in queue to be answered with basically the same concept! By the way, turns out I've already written a reader knocking out Yuujirou in one blow! I hope I haven’t built myself a reputation as a Yuujirou bully, although this post won’t help my cause.

Also, the whole idea of reader being insanely strong from menial labor reminds me a lot of Hajime no Ippo. Main character turns out to have top tier boxing potential from working at his mom’s fishing business and carrying heavy crates for the clients. Safe to say I like the reasoning a lot!

Baki Headcanons: One Punch! Reader

I’m leaving Yuujirou as a final opponent so to say, because otherwise the whole thing would be finished in 5 minutes. Imagine the anime intro with slideshows of nature scenery, and the narrator dramatically elaborating the plot and explaining why Yuujirou is the strongest creature on Earth. And literally the next panel he’s unconscious and reader awkwardly stares at the camera. Narrator coughs and has to mumble “Well I guess that’s it” and the curtains fall. That was it. That was the whole story.

So I’m going to go for a random buff stranger to showcase Reader’s strength. You have just finished taking Baki’s order. Maybe he took some of the men out to discuss certain matters. Maybe he wants to ask Retsu, Katsumi, Jack and Hanayama about their encounter with Pickle before his fight, to get some insight. He’s heard Katsumi has a big crush on the waitress here, so he picked the spot more as a joke to tease the Karate master. While attending the table there’s giggles, side glances and elbow nudges and you can only wonder why Katsumi refuses to speak (usually he’s very chatty with you) and the others have a grin on their face.

As you walk away, you notice your newer coworker struggling to handle a customer. He’s bowing repeatedly and apologizing for his mistake to a man wearing an indifferent yet sour expression. The large man begins to raise his voice and throws in a few inappropriate insults, so you gently push your coworker away, hinting that he should leave it to you, and you promptly take his place.

The customer seems to think you’re some higher up, next in line to beg for his forgiveness or perhaps suggest a discount as a peace offering. Nonetheless, he wants to make sure you understand your situation, so he stands up. Before he can open his mouth, you loudly and curtly exclaim “We unfortunately do not accept this kind of behavior. Leave, now.”

Several people have now turned their heads as the tension increases. Katsumi is uneasy and the rest of the men are also quiet, observing the unfolding event. Baki discreetly exits his booth, ready to interfere in case the situation escalates.

The man is visibly angered by your lack of fear. Once several of his threats go unanswered, he lifts his hand. By this point Baki is walking towards you. You sigh, not wanting to cause a scene. The whole thing happens rather fast, no one is entirely sure what they just witnessed, but the window is shattered, the stranger is crumpled on the sidewalk and covered in glass shards and you’re standing next to his table, fist clenched and bloodied up.

Calling the men ‘baffled’ would be an understatement. You have to explain several times that no, you’re not a professional fighter and you’ve never trained a day in your life. In fact, you’ve been working at this restaurant from the moment you could walk. It’s your family’s treasured business and you can’t see yourself doing anything else. Retsu is bewildered and demands to have your skills tested, because you could turn out to be a fearful martial arts user. A whole argument ensues and you compromise on joining them to the Underground Arena to demonstrate how far your strength goes. This evening only, and then you’re back serving customers.

Once you defeat Yuujirou, however, you’ve sealed your fate. You can’t just demolish the Ogre with one blow and walk away as if nothing happened…

*Now this is just a random thought that immediately came to mind when reading the request. Since Reader can easily beat Yuujirou, imagine the amount of people feeling like they’ve finally been avenged. It could even be a whole arranged spectacle. You know those fairs from cartoons, where one person sits above a small pool and you pay to throw a ball towards a target in order to drop them into the water? Same concept, really. There’d be a never ending line of people that have been wronged by Yuujirou somehow, so they throw some coins and Reader goes in for another punch. Yuujirou destroyed your gym? Threatened you on the street? Scared you so much you wet yourself? Gather around and enjoy the show for a small price.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki headcanons #baki hanma

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gvfmarge · 3 months

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Lighthouse of my Soul - Chapter One

Hi everyone!

This is my very first multipart fic! I hope you enjoy it! I’m feeling a little underwhelmed with how this first chapter turned out. I want it to be more, so hopefully you’ll stick around! I’m hoping to grow my writing a with this fic and maybe get some feelings out while doing it. This is going to be a bit of a slow burner, so be gentle with me, I’m a baby!

(Ghost)Jake x Reader

Warnings: none? Some cussing, some slightly spooky stuff but not too much for now.

I’ve also never had a tag list, so if you’re interested in the next parts just let me know and I’ll tag you! Xoxoxoxo

Were you running away? From what? It didn’t matter. You felt like you had finally reached your destination. You felt the ocean was your new beginning. The Outer Banks had always been your comfort place, growing up vacationing here was always your favorite. It felt like home every time you visited, so it was a no brainer when you had been offered a temporary position at the local newspaper in Hatteras. You felt that you were going to finally make something of yourself. All the hard work you had put into studying and writing was going to pay off.

You had luckily stumbled upon a tiny cottage to rent. The owner explaining it had been built in 1874 and had weathered many storms and tribulations. It had originally been part of the life-saving station before they had built a newer building and eventually became the Coast Guard. The house had endured damage along the years from storms and each time had been repaired. When you stepped foot inside, you could feel the history. The floorboards squeaked with each step inside, taking a deep breath it smelled like sea salt and fresh air. Everything in the house was basically original. The dark hardwood floors showed signs of wear, with little scratches here and there and you could see the discoloration throughout the house where many footsteps had worn down the stain. The walls were fully covered in shiplap and had been sanded down and painted a beautiful light blue color. The kitchen was small, with only 3 overhead cabinets, a small older fridge and a stove. The living room was connected to the kitchen, you could barely see where the owners had taken out the wall to try and have somewhat of an open concept. Slowly inspecting each room, you came to realize just how small it was compared to the pictures you had viewed online. You realized you might not even have enough space for a couch and a table, but you would figure logistics out later. Walking up the steep rickety stairs you came upon a short hallway, at the end was a window stretching from the ceiling to the floor with an amazing view of the beach and ocean outside of the house, from the second floor it seemed you could see forever over the horizon. There are two bedrooms split by the hallway. Looking inside the room to your left, you noticed a small desk sitting underneath a window looking out to the ocean. On it, sat an empty white vase and a typewriter. It piqued your curiosity, the home came unfurnished and you were not made aware of anything left behind for you to use.

Walking over to it, you sat down in the tiny wooden chair and ran your fingers over the vintage keys. As soon as your fingertips met with the cold metal, you felt electricity flow through your hand, up your arm and down your spine. Goosebumps rose over your skin and you quickly pulled your hand away. The shock and stress of moving must be getting to you, you thought. You gazed out the window taking in the ocean waves. You were finally alone, it felt peaceful but somehow, you felt a longing in the house. There was something that you couldn’t quite place your finger on.

You felt a presence with you and quickly turned around to the entrance of the room. You could have sworn you felt eyes on you but there wasn’t a soul there. You slowly turned your body around again to face the window and your mind wondered back to the memories you had that led you here. Suddenly, a faint smell of tobacco burning filled the room. The sweet but heavy aroma seemed to swirl around your body. It was intoxicating but slightly overwhelming. You felt frozen for just a moment, not quite understanding what was happening. With another deep breath you slowly stood up and scanned the room for any sign of someone else. As quickly as the tobacco smell came, it was gone. You shrugged the smell off to the history of the cottage and made your way back downstairs to begin unpacking and making yourself finally feel at home.

The sun had slowly crept through your first floor windows and shown brightly against the kitchen cabinets. You looked at the clock you had just hung on the wall to see that it was 6pm. You had worked for hours trying to unpack all of the boxes the moving company had just piled into your living area. Thankfully, the moving company had taken your mattress upstairs for you so you didn’t have to figure out how to lug it up the tight cornered stairs by yourself. Deciding it was best to take the empty bedroom, you asked them to place it under the window that overlooked the ocean. The bedrooms were narrow, with only about two feet of space between both sides of the mattress and the walls. At the other end of the room was a built in closet that was actually a nice size considering how small the whole house was. The door opened up beside the closet, so there was really no other option for your bed. You were not a fan for your bed to be facing the door or the closet, but it would have to work.

Boxes on top of boxes had somehow dwindled down to a select few that you didn’t know what to do with. As you carefully climbed the steep stairs with box in tow, you felt just how tired your legs really were. You had climbed these stairs at least a thousand times today just trying to get everything in your desired spot. You had been avoiding the typewriter room. It just felt odd to you and you really had no use for it now, so deciding to use it as storage for now, you slowly pushed the heavy wooden door open with the cardboard box and peaked inside. No one, just the lonely typewriter. There was such a sadness in the room and you didn’t know how. There was no explanation but you understood with old houses came a lengthy wrap sheet of history inside the walls. You finished bringing the random boxes into the room to go through later. Slowly exiting the room, you once again felt goosebumps raise across your skin. You quickly slammed the bedroom door shut and almost ran down the stairs.

“You’re just imagining things, it’s an old house. You’ve watched too many scary movies.” Scoffing to yourself. You turned to the front door which was from top to bottom glass and stared out to the ocean. You felt such a connection. There was just something special about the ocean. It always made you feel whole, even as a child when you didn’t know you were missing something, you knew it was to be in awe of.

You made a mental note to buy curtains to place over the front and back doors to keep your privacy. The two doors mirrored each other in the house, you could walk a straight line from the front door to the back door and see right through both doors of glass.

That night you sat in the floor of your living room, using an empty cardboard box as your coffee table to eat the pizza you had ordered in off of. Thankfully you did have a TV, so there would be a little bit of entertainment to keep you occupied before you started your new position on Monday.

After watching what seemed like hours of trash TV, you decided to tuck yourself in for the first night in your new home. Brushing your teeth and doing your skincare in the only bathroom downstairs, you stared at yourself in the mirror. “Am I actually doing this? Is this actually real?” Your mind was spinning miles a minute and you hoped you would be able to turn it off enough to get a little rest. The first night in new homes never seems to go smoothly. You either can’t sleep because it’s too quiet or the ceiling fan is too loud, or the room is too hot or too cold. You were nervous for what you would find when you made your way upstairs in the darkness. You huffed when you realized the owners hadn’t thought of putting a light in the stairway when they remodeled the house, so you had to use your senses to make sure you didn’t fall tumbling down to the bottom.

At the top of the stairs, you sped walked to get inside your bedroom and practically slammed your bedroom door shut. “What are you so afraid of.” You laughed at yourself. This would be a long summer if you couldn’t get it together. Crawling into bed, really just your mattress on the floor, you turned the switch of the lamp off and faced the window that was on the left side of the bed. You could only see the stars and the moon through the window panes, you stared for what seemed like minutes until your entire bedroom was suddenly lit up with a bright white light. You shot up in bed and stared. “What the hell” is all you could say. Until a few seconds later, your bedroom was lit up like the Fourth of July again. “There’s no fucking way, are you serious.” You hadn’t realized on the drive here or even unpacking your things, that Cape Hatteras Lighthouse was literally in your back yard. The lighthouse was close enough to shine its light through your bedroom window and make you feel like you just got busted for drugs by the police. The lighthouse’s light rotation takes about 7 seconds, which is more than aggravating when you’re trying to sleep. You flipped your body over like you were trying to slam through the floor and groaned. “Of course, I would get stuck with a creepy old house and the lighthouse in my backyard.” You grumbled. After calming down, sleep finally found you and you more than gladly welcomed the darkness.

How long had you been asleep? You picked up your phone and the time read 3am. You huffed out another long sigh. Your bladder felt like it was going to explode. There was no falling asleep like this or you would most definitely wet the bed. You laid there for a few moments until you felt like you could brave the dark house in the middle of the night. Of course the only bathroom was downstairs. Why wouldn’t it be?

You turned your bedside lamp on and rolled out onto your feet. Creeping down the dark stairs with only your phones flashlight, you didn’t sense anything. Everything felt calm to your surprise. There was no uneasiness and you didn’t feel like the devil himself would pop out around the corner. You finished your business quickly and started the ascent back up to your room. On the fourth or fifth step up, a rhythmic sound stopped you in your tracks. You stood silent and as still as a statue, your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your toes. Your ears became hot as you realized what the sound was. The vintage typewriter. You were frozen. Even if you wanted to turn around and bust your way out the front door and squeal like a baby all the way back home, your body wouldn’t let you. Your feet felt like they had been cemented to the step.

Suddenly the bell of the typewriter rang out in the upstairs bedroom and the keys were being pressed in a quick but precise fashion. The person using the typewriter knew what they were doing and they seemed to be in a hurry to write whatever they were writing. You heard the paper being ripped out of the roller. Silence. No foot steps, no more typing, nothing but the ocean waves outside. You took a deep breath and steadied yourself on the wall of the staircase. Did you imagine all of it? Are you still just half asleep and dreamed it? Are you actually going insane? Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion and turning black, the world felt like it was swirling around your head and you squeezed your eyes tightly shut to try and stop the uneasy feeling.

When you opened them, you were staring at your wooden bedroom ceiling. You followed the grooves of the shiplap until your eyes met the window you had been looking out to see the lighthouse light. The sun was warming your face and the brightness almost seemed too bright. You scrambled around your comforter to find your phone, which showed 8:45am.

“There’s no possible way that’s right.” You quickly googled the time and realized it was correct. You had somehow blacked out on the stairs and made it into bed? How? Your mind was racing with confusion and then you remembered, the typewriter.

You quickly opened up the text thread with your landlady and hit the call button. Hearing the ringing tone you couldn’t even conjure up what you were about to say. Were you just giving up? Was this going to break you?

“Hello?” The sweet lady answered in a joyful tone. “Hi Mrs. Hartley, did you accidentally leave a typewriter and desk in one of the bedrooms upstairs?”

There was silence on the other end of the line and you were becoming more and more anxious the longer she took to respond. “No honey, I didn’t leave anything in the house. It has been empty for over a year now.” She quietly answered in her sweet but concerned tone. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes. No worries at all. I had a great first night here. Thank you so much again!” You hit the red button before she could even think of a reply.

You looked up to your bedroom door that was wide open and felt the goosebumps rise once again down your spine. What the actual fuck is happening here?

#jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet #gvf #gvf smut #jake kiszka fanfic #Jake kiszka #Gvfmarge mine

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spoppet · 10 months

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i'll admit i don't understand something about the fan presence arkane has as a member thereof: the disparity in fanworks and cultural presence compared to their other releases. compared to prey, and deathloop (i'm not going to even bother with the other one), it puzzles me a whole lot.

dishonored is almost 11 years old as I'm writing this, and while dh2 is newer they're both a bit aged in terms of fandom lifetimes. this is not a criticism, to be clear — age and quality are not causative, and many of my favorite things are older than i am. that said, it's odd to me that it still gets regular art, fics, posts about it, etc when the stuff for prey and deathloop seem to have dried up (save a few intrepid souls persisting, some of whom i am lucky enough to be personal friends with, whose work i adore, y'all know who you are). to me, prey in particular has just as much to chew on, just as much impact, and just as much of... all the things that make arkane games special as dishonored does, and yet there's a marked difference in how much presence each has in the present in discussion and creative works. for deathloop it's even starker, though i suspect the more linear, pared-down world and experience in that game plays a role.

again this is not a condemnation or complaint, i love dishonored and i am very glad there seems to be a steady stream of people discovering and falling in love with it, or returning to it, or having never left it. it's nice that it keeps space in the mind like that, and it holds a place in my heart and has since i visited its display at PAX 12 prior to release. however with that said, it leaves me wondering: why don't its younger siblings, and why is the disparity so apparent? what is it about dishonored (and its fanbase) that differs so greatly in impact? i'm aware there's some overlap - i love DH, Prey, and DL all at once myself - but it's a real headscratcher regardless.

thoughts and comments welcome, perhaps someone sees what i've missed. ultimately i just wish they all got about as much continual love as dishonored does, not that dishonored got less.

#prey 2017 #arkane studios #arkane #dishonored #deathloop

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nondidd · 6 months

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2023 Art Summary 🥳

January remains my most emotional piece. I was processing grief during the one year anniversary of losing a close family member. And it’s apparently the only painting I did this year LOL

After that is where I went back to studying fairytale art. February being a NieR recreation of Arthur Rackham’s The Romance Of King Arthur artwork

Then as for march, that’s where I started to study Henry Clarke and essentially lost my mind for the rest of the year with linework ✌️😩

I had two favs from October so they both go in 🫶

And as for November and December I’ve hit my burnout + busy with health and holidays LOL. Not forcing an illustration just to have one so there’s all my silly little doodles ✌️

Honorable mention is the savanaclaw set I did this year! Wasn’t something I planned on but I had fun making it and it think it’s my most popular set this year. I was surprised so many people liked it 😆

The next photo is a comparison of how I drew FG Ruggie last year compared to this year. I wanted to show the comparison to explain my shift in focus in my illustrations. After studying Clarke’s work I realized I was having fun creating again. Not to say I’m not satisfied with how the older Ruggie piece came out but I found myself often frustrated with it trying to make sure everything was “drawn right” for lack of a better explanation. It was a chore. I’ve come to find I enjoy making illustrations now with the mindset of “how do I want to convey this” rather than “how accurate can I make these details”. Drawing the newer Ruggie was enjoyable the entire time. My focus wasn’t accurate details or semi realistic but rather what emotion could I convey with just these lines and limited color. And that’s how I’ve been moving forward with my art as of late. It’s been fun again

Because of my newfound confidence and enjoyment of creating again I’ve gone back to traditional sketching too. It used to feel so constricted for me but now with loose lines and a loose mindset I’ve been scribbling all over notebooks again 😆

All this ramble to say I’m satisfied with what I’ve done this year. My health needs to start taking priority come 2024 but I hope to still create and share in the new year ✌️ If you took the time to read all this, thank you 🙏

#art summary #art summary 2023

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yanderes-galore · 1 year

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Maybe something with yandere prompts 2, 5 and 9 with toy bonnie please?

Sure! Using my prompts for this as usual. Been awhile since I've written for Toy Bonnie. I struggled on the plot for this one so hopefully it still makes a good story :)

Again, like usual, AU where all bots have the AI like the Glamrocks.

Yandere! Toy Bonnie Prompts 2, 5, 9

"It's an honor for someone such as me to take you in and love you!"

"Manipulation? No, dear, I'm just encouraging you!"

"The wound in your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?"

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Manipulation, Narcissism, Social isolation, Violence, Sabotage, Obsession, Jealousy, Possessive behavior, Forced companionship, Intimidation, Broken bones, Implied kidnapping or death.

When the new Freddy Fazbear's location opened there were new animatronics introduced. The new Toy Series of animatronics were meant to look 'kid-friendly' compared to older models.

They went all out with the new look, too. The newer Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica looked way friendlier than the older models... who were stored away for part use. The newer Foxy didn't last long, unfortunately, and the new Balloon Boy and Puppet animatronic still seemed to creep out children even with attempted changes.

The more interesting part of their AI, in your opinion, was the ability to scan and register employees into their database. Although... while the previous models had this tech, it didn't transfer the best to the Toys.

That was the mechanic's assumption... many complained they stared blankly at adults but were fine with kids.

The staring was occasional and did not happen all the time, but when it did... it was freaky. The animatronics also had a component that could allow the bots to speak to employees in their own instead of the pre-programmed song library. The designer really thought things through... wanting to make the AI as realistic as possible.

Such tech isn't perfect... as you'd soon find out.

Each bot had their own personality. Although you noticed most, if not all the Toy line, has a craving for attention. It made sense... they were meant to be for kids. Kids tend to crave attention, too.

Such a quirk in their AI made the bots cling to and follow employees. The worst bots had to be the new Bonnie and Freddy. Luckily you only ever saw one around you all the time.

For the most part, each bot got along with you. They would greet you and often offer to help. Even Mangle (the broken new Foxy) with its heavily damaged AI made attempts to communicate through static.

Bonnie was the one who often looked to talk to you. Toy Bonnie, a blue rabbit with wide green eyes, was built to play songs with kids. He was always one for the spotlight and thrived on attention.

With the cute exterior and high-pitched voice, Toy Bonnie was a hit with the kids. Even when trying to speak with you... he still attempted to be friendly. You didn't mind the bot deciding you're his favorite.

You could never get used to the staring, unfortunately.

Sometimes it was just during his performances. Those green eyes would never leave you... even if you left the room. They'd always linger where you were.

It's worse when you're with another bot. Perhaps you're setting up a show with Freddy or Chica? Bonnie's staring... as though his programming is glitched.

Yet when checked, things worked fine.

This wasn't an issue you could physically find. No, it's nearly impossible to find a self-aware AI as they hid their traces. Bonnie didn't stare because he was glitching necessarily....

In his eyes, he's jealous.

He's incredibly upset at the fact the others are on such good terms with you...

The rabbit starts dropping hints.

"My guitar needs tuning!

He comes up with excuse after excuse...

"The stage needs cleaning!"

He hopes he takes up all of your time...

"Can you listen to this for me?"

Yet it never seems enough.

"I don't like that you care so much about the others...!"

"I need to, Bonnie. It's my job!"

"They have their own employees... I have you! You're meant to help me and only me! Not them! Your time is much better spent around me! Ditch them...."

"Can't believe they programmed manipulation into you...."

Toy Bonnie's eyes narrow, he hates it when you fight....

"Manipulation? No, dear, I'm just encouraging you!" Toy Bonnie answers, grinning. "It's never good to waste time with unworthy scrap metal."

Sometimes you wish these locations had normal robots. Toy Bonnie's craving for attention makes the bot too obsessive about you... causing fights.

Many fights.

Toy Bonnie hates the idea of sharing... maybe you need to learn a lesson.

A harsh lesson....

Toy Bonnie knew harm towards employees was frowned upon in his programming. In his eyes, though...

This was deserved.

All it took was a planned slip and a painful fall to put you out of commission for a bit. According to gossip Bonnie heard from stage and while wandering party rooms, his little trick damaged your leg. He didn't know the degree... but you weren't coming to work for a bit.

Just in case... Toy Bonnie threatened the others during their scheduled night routine to keep their distance if his other plan didn't work. The night guard certainly got an interesting event to watch on the cameras that night....

You'd think after that you'd leave the others be, right?

Sadly, it seems the rabbit was wrong. You still paid attention to the others and not him when you came back. Still claiming it was your job....

The rabbit didn't want to stand by and be docile anymore like he was supposed to.

"The wound in your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?"

Toy Bonnie taunts you again in a quieter area while you look for something in a storage room. The bot's green eyes look towards your bandaged leg. He scans it... looks like a fracture.

You pause and look towards him. Your eyes hold fear... and anger.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'd think after that little tumble of yours you'd learn who deserves your attention. Especially when the others started ignoring you." Toy Bonnie chides, optics narrowing. You realize what he means....

"I'll have you scrapped...." You warn, teeth gritting. "You broke my damn leg!"

"Knew you were my smart rockstar! Now... perhaps I have to be more direct?"

Toy Bonnie jolts forward, causing you to jump in fear.

"You are my little rockstar... not theirs... mine. I'm the one you should care for... not them. Do you need another lesson, or do you understand?"

The presumably malfunctioning bot steps closer, blocking your exit.

"It's an honor for someone such as me to take you in and love you!"

The bot growls, glitchy twitches making the normally cute appearance of the animatronic unhinged and dangerous. You notice Bonnie position into a pounce... the room's shelves not giving you enough room to move.

"Here's your final lesson, rockstar..." Bonnie chuckles, servos clicking before launching into a dangerous attack. "I can break way more than your leg if you really want!"

Your screaming was cut off quickly, one way or another.

#yandere five nights at freddy's #yandere fnaf #yandere fnaf 2 #yandere toy bonnie

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dimepdf · 2 years

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can we get some eddie x black! reader, soft, domestic ass smut/fluff🙏🙏 (p.s love your writing!!)

ARE YOU MINE. + EDDIE MUNSON

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? [ ❥ ] synopsis. hi i love your writing sm!! pls could i request an eddie munson fic where the reader loses her virginity to eddie but she struggles a bit bc she was raised super religious so doesn’t really know what she’s doing and feels kinda guilty (kinda angsty/fluffy). pls only write if ur comfortable with this ofc and no worries at all if you don’t! thank you sm 💗 author's note. i felt like i needed to combine these two requests together :) don't forget to join the discord! join here

[ ❥ ] pairing. eddie munson x reader

[ ❥ ] word count. 5k

[ ❥ ] genre and warnings. 18+, black afab reader, established relationship, mentions of religion, first time, corruption kink, tooth rotting fluff, something cute to mend my broken heart, pet names, grinding, vocal Eddie, body worship, cowgirl, age gap (both legal idk how old Eddie is bruh), cuddling, aftercare, domestic vibes

You were used to spending most of your free time watching your boyfriend, Eddie, strumming mindlessly at his guitar.

Eddie sat across his bedroom from you, leaning back against the wall like he was trying to morph himself into the rock posters that were taped to the walls.

His gaze and attention were fully in his own world as his fingers echoed a tune from the plucked strings.

His legs spread as he sat, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth. Even with a gun to your head, the male hummed a tune from a song you couldn't name.

You could call your relationship pretty simple compared to most teenagers your age, both of you being in your senior year of high school (Eddie being a super senior, but you don't bring it up much). You two had been dating since you had heard whispers of the "Hellfire Club" around the school.

Going through your rebellious streak, you had decided to bite the bullet and drop out of bible study for activities that broaden your horizons of newer hobbies. Wanting to do things outside of your parent's constant stern and strict approval

You could still recall your friend’s faces watching you plop down at an open seat at the boy's lunch table. Something about your perfect old prompt self butting into their conversations about the next D&D campaign made Eddie instantly choke on his milk.

It took a lot of harassing Eddie during passing periods and sharp-tongued comebacks to gain the trust of all the members of the Hellfire Club.

You even did some personal study with a list of older campaigns Eddie had scribbled in a notebook during the hours your parents had settled for your bedtime, unaware that you were under the sheets with a flashlight learning how the game worked.

It was fair to say that you were welcomed into the club with open arms after the amount of dedication you had put into wanting to enjoy the game the same way that they did.

Not long after even gaining Eddie’s respect along the way, it only took your entire junior year to make it as obvious as possible that you had a thing for the long-haired asshole who seemed to always enjoy picking an argument with you.

Your parents, on the other hand, were not too fond of his appearance. The moment they found out that you were even dating in the first place, they had to forbid you from ever hanging out, let alone playing the so-called devil-worshiping game.

Your mom lectures you every time she sees traces of him on you. The way you come home flustered, clutching onto your schoolbooks; the cautious glances you would give when she passed by when you were on the phone, whispering how you’d talk to him at school; your flushed, dazed look from just thinking about kissing him.

Your mother snaps at you every time she catches you in that hopelessly romantic trance, her stern voice trying to beat sense into your thick skull.

"So you think that you're all grown up, huh? That you could just go around and do whatever you want and act like a little floozy like you don’t live under my roof?" Your mother's words snap like a stretched rubber band against your skin.

Your mother has a way with words that makes everything she says stick worse than what the bullies would say to you.

Your father never says anything, just sits back and watches with a disappointed frown. You had gotten used to the face, the way that your parents would always look down on you for falling in love.

The lecture would always end with you begging to retreat back into your room, wanting to use your blankets as a shield away from your family as your mother kissed her teeth and berated you when she noticed the fat tears rolling down your cheek, sparing herself from humiliating you any more than she had already done in front of your siblings.

But alas, the more you’ve hung around Eddie, the more rebellious you’ve gotten, sneaking out and telling your parents excuses for why you were coming home later than you should.

They disapproved of you using your old friend group as a cover-up while you were really in the passenger seat of Eddie’s car, swapping spit with the one boy in town that they disapproved of.

You weren't really bothered by the fact that Eddie wasn't really much of a romantic type. You quickly learn that he expressed his affection through his interests and hobbies. Frequently, he would share his favorite music or even perform personal covers of songs that you liked with his band.

His love language was also pushing all of your buttons, seeing how far he could stretch you out before you would just tell him off. He thought something about you losing your cool and getting angry with him to the point where you would just snap at him as very attractive.

You two bickered back and forth more than you kissed or held hands. The arguments were never over anything serious; usually, it was just Eddie wanting to pick a fight with you just for him to give you that sly smirk with his hands grasped at your hips, yanking you into his chest.

Other than him randomly biting into your arm or smacking your thighs as hard as he possibly could, Eddie wasn't much of a touchy guy. You didn't push him too much, not expecting him to be much of a charming prince.

You just loved him for who he was, especially since he was your first actual boyfriend as well as you being his first actual girlfriend.

For Eddie, being in a relationship with you was just like being more flirty with a best friend who he had thought was attractive.

But he looks at you like he was in love like it was his first time opening his eyes. You had gotten used to the smitten look of the riddler all over his face. You'd often catch him staring at you as if staring at you was his favorite pastime.

He loved watching how the sunlight would filter through your dark curls, making them look like they were some sort of halo that framed your face. He loved watching the millions of emotions your face would form.

He loved how your big black eyes and thick eyelashes fluttered when you caught him staring at you.

Eddie had fallen in love with how your cocoa butter-coated skin almost seemed to sparkle with a warm brown glow under the sun, how your full two-toned colored lips would form every word like you had meant everything you had spoken.

Eddie had it so bad for you. It all just happened so fast for him that he couldn't even remember a time that he didn't want to be stuck to you like glue.

Which was why it wasn't really intended for you both to be virgins for this long.

Sure, you two had your fair share of sneaky back seat handjobs and the time you had him bite into your shoulder during his first blowjob because his uncle was in the other room and God knew Eddie couldn't help himself but to sound like a modern-day whore getting his dick stroked by you.

It was also because you had grown up in a household where having sex was pretty taboo.

The more you realized it, the more it sort of settled that you and your parents had a different view of the religion that you believed in.

You didn't understand the whole "wait until marriage" argument considering that your father was twice divorced before he had met your mother.

You just knew that abstinence wasn't just something you wanted to practice, not much of a big deal, but you knew that your parents would lose their heads if they found out that their little girl was planning on being plowed by the town "Satanist" Eddie Munson.

You couldn't talk to anyone about the weird feelings you had or how to handle them. It took you a while to realize that you were just sexually frustrated.

Both of you were kind of emotionally unavailable and too scared to come off as too soft or clingy, even to each other. It was like a battle for dominance. Eddie being as competitive as you were, it was like a game seeing who would be the first to crack.

It was like a battle you had sadly lost due to your extreme teenage hormones.

Watching the strum of Eddie’s fingers against the guitar, a growing hunger festered in the lower part of your body. Something about watching his hands had switched something in you.

“Hey Eds”

“Hm?”

"Do you think we can…have sex?" Your tone was flat as your words sort of mumbled together with the fingernail you were trying to bite off, Eddie’s mind instantly going into restart mode as he paused.

His hands were still hovering over the guitar before blinking. You were watching as his head snapped to peer across the room at you, his brows twitching in anticipation of what you asked as if he had heard it by mistake.

You felt ready, having been dating for almost three years. Your hormones were raging as you wanted nothing more than to go all the way with your boyfriend, and you felt like he was ready too, or so you thought as you flinched, hearing the sharp snap of one of the guitar strings, your eyes widening as you watched Eddie in silent panic.

"Shit, uh, I mean–" As he shot up from his seat, he felt like he had made things awkward. It's not like you had suddenly blurted it out unprompted.

As Eddie hung the guitar upon its mound, he turned towards you, hesitating to speak as he just sighed, taking a seat next to you on his twin-sized bed.

Because you were afraid that the way he was acting would lead to a breakup, you weren't sure what to do with yourself. Your thoughts were going in the worst possible direction.

"Like, right now?" With his eyes squinting, Eddie asked in a more gentle manner while wiping his sweaty hands along the front of his denim jeans.

"Uh, yeah, sure," you nod.

"Oh... okay." was his final reply, as you couldn't help but laugh at how awkward the situation was being played out.

"Okay?" you dragged out, teasing him, reaching to playfully lean into his shoulder, earning one of his many usual eye rolls in response.

"I do want to, you just kind of blurted it out and caught me off guard." Chuckling as your boyfriend's face turned a faint shade of pink and his hands began tensely rubbing his bangs.

"I mean, if you’re, like, ready to, then I'm ready." You nodded at his rambling. Both of you were too embarrassed to notice what was happening, so there was a nervous pause in the air.

You tried not to look completely out of it, your heel tapping repeatedly against the carpeted floors, still biting around the skin of your nails.

"Yeah, okay, cool." you hummed, suddenly Eddie raising his brows at your sudden change of mood from nervous to frantic. A hand gliding over your thigh ripped you from the cloud of worry that stormed over your head.

“What's wrong angel, talk to me.”

"I don’t know, I just don’t want it to be like a huge thing, you know?" You didn’t want it to seem like a big deal, knowing that inside your mind was racing with thoughts about what your parents would think of you if they had found out.

They had already disapproved of Eddie. You could already see the faces of horror on your parent's faces if they ever found out about the sexual thoughts you hadn't even had with him.

"Hey, hey, we don’t have to do it."

"No, no, I do want to. I want you, Eddie." Your hand rested on the curve of his shoulder.

"Really?" As he tangled his fingers between yours, a toothy grin crept across his lips. Your lips curled into a perplexed grin.

"Yeah, I really want to do this with you." You softly chuckled, the tone in the room shifting to much more comfort. You were both suddenly aware of the sound of your breathing and the gulp Eddie took in a nervous state.

The smile he gave you was one that you rarely saw on his face. The one that he would only show when he thought no one was looking; the one that he would only show to the people he was most comfortable with beaming at you.

"Okay, well, uh…thanks?" he murmured, inciting another soft laugh from your lips. Both of you were looking in the direction of the TV that sat in front of the TV. A kissing scene played out in front of the unattended movie.

"So...how about we just take it a bit slow?" His tone shifted to something more seductive, his stare suggestive as you allowed him to take the lead, his face leaning in closer to you.

"How about we, uh, touch first, or do you just tell me what you want? Does that sound good to you?" You glanced down at your lap, watching his fingertips dip into the plush of your thigh, his hand lingering just inches away from where you needed it the most.

"I don't—" your voice trailed off. "I’ve never touched myself before." Eddie’s face lifted in surprise, his eyes lighting up.

"Should I feel weird for finding that really hot?" You giggled at his honest reaction, the low voice in the back of your head spewing out doubts and unnecessary worries in the back of your mind being strung out one by one the more Eddie made an effort to comfort you.

The ones that hurt the most were the thoughts that Eddie was just too good for you, and that your relationship was too perfect to be true.

He would ultimately choose a flawless pale white skinned girl with a better figure or a prettier girl who wasn't compelled by her parents to attend church every weekend, missing out on every band performance he would have.

You knew it wasn't fair to be insecure about yourself, your melanin color, your black ringlets of hair, it wouldn't be fair to pick at all the things about yourself that you just couldn't change.

You never thought of yourself as ugly; it was just how you appeared to others while living in a town with a majority of white people where being a minority was uncommon. You were aware that you couldn't blame the outside world for how alone you felt in Hawkins.

You were just…different. You didn't blame most boys in your grade for picking on you for the shape of your nose or the size of your lips.

You couldn't blame them. There were children not aware of the hateful comments that they would painlessly speak that would carry on until their teenage years.

You felt unseen most of your life, hiding behind that row of girls that just fit the beauty standard for perfection.

You had thought that you would spend your entire life in Hawkins, always hanging out on the sidelines and living curiously through all of your best friend’s romantic relationships.

Having to hype them up every time they bring up going on dates or being asked out by boys that you knew wouldn't bother to give you the time of day without any ulterior motives until Eddie welcomed you into his life.

He treated you as though you were meant to be his destiny and that the only reason you two had come into contact was that fate had sent you to earth as an angel.

Eddie hoped for miracles his entire life. He hoped that he would finally finish high school after being held back, that he would save up enough money to finally move out of his rusted cheap trailer and into an actual house, and that his band would finally get the recognition that they deserved, but all of that came in the form of you.

He swore that his miracle was you. If he could, he would have given whatever god was listening to a firm handshake for blessing him with you. He thought about it once, like Eddie actually thought about going to church with you by his side.

Driving past the street in his van, he spots you and your family all hurrying out of your father's car, all dressed up with frails and skin-colored stockings.

He wanted to stop and park his car across the street, trying to scramble up words to form the perfect greeting he would speak to your parents.

And then he realizes how drastically different your life was compared to his. You had a big loving family, siblings that were always in your business, and parents that would crack the whip on you just for putting a toe out of line. You were formed and built up into this perfect black woman.

Eddie was astounded that someone so perfect in his eyes could be in love with him like you were.

But there you were, sitting with your thighs straddled at his sides. Your arms hung over his shoulders, with your lips against his mouth.

Your life depends on it. Eddie had to convince himself many times in your relationship that he wasn't dreaming, that you weren’t actually some angel gifted to him by a higher power.

Eddie didn't believe in God as you did, but if he was up there, boy, were him and Eddie bound to be homies. His breath hitched at the feeling of your trailing fingers lingering down his chest, inching towards his lap, between your legs. "My god, you just…do something to me..." Eddie moans against your lips.

"You just make it so hard…to not absolutely want to…ruin you." His words alone sent a shiver up your spine. The shameless feeling of your back arching into the warmth of his broad chest, your big doe eyes peering into his didn't help his case at all.

"You're just so beautiful." Grinding your hips onto his lap. Feeling just how hard his erection felt as it pushed against the rough material of his jeans his hips coaxed into rutting against the plush of your thigh.

"You think I'm pretty?" Your concern about being unable to recognize your own true beauty is painfully innocent. Your gentle voice nearly caused Eddie's heart to break.

"Y/N, you're the most gorgeous girl I've ever laid my eyes on." Eddie watched in a deep trance as you took your bottom lip between your teeth and glanced down away from his gaze shyly.

Your hips roll forward against his tented jeans. His fingers dug into your hips, a sound of bliss leaving his mouth as his head tilted up to chase after your lips once more.

You shifted against his lap once more, just the whimpering sounds he was making just because of you were intoxicating to hear.

As you both carved the feeling of each other Eddie couldn't yet map out all the things he had wanted to do to you but he just knew that he needed you against him as nakes as he possibly could.

You felt his fingers slowly hooking under the hem of your collared shirt, the brush of his cold fingers colliding with the hot skin of your lower belly.

"Can I?" You could only nod as the words felt stuck in your throat, unbutton the top of your shirt before you could guide his hands to grab the material of your shirt.

He helped you yank the shirt over your head and toss it aside against the floor, his eyes instantly glued to the plain pink cotton bra that you wore.

You just looked too good, almost good enough to eat. Not that Eddie didn't want to eat you, he just wanted to go as slowly as possible to take everything in.

When his hands hover over the curves of your breast, you reach out to guide his hands and place them on your chest like a breath of relief.

The foggy look in his stare almost made you laugh, like he was starving to finally get his hands on every part of your body, wanting to worship every curve and mark, squeezing and fondling your breasts to his heart's content.

“Is this okay?” He asked with his fingers under the shoulder strap of your bra, his fingers twisting the elastic and fiddling with the plastic clasp that held it all together.

You nodded, shredding off your shoulder, and twisted the bra to the front of your chest, unclasping it with one hand, and just like your shirt, you let Eddie take it off and toss it aside with your shirt.

“Can you—can you touch them?” You murmured. Eddie wasn’t one to always be obedient, but the way you spoke to him was doing wonders for the growing problem in his groin. He dove his face into your chest, his mouth trailing wet kisses in the crevice of your chest, as per your request.

His finger held you down from squirming in his lip as this tongue reached the bud of your nipple. Sucking and swirling his warm, wet tongue over the perky bud, you whimpered from the contact, ducking your head away as your hand covered your mouth to prevent making any more embarrassingly lewd noises.

“Can you touch me too, please?” His words were bold and straight to the point, despite the slight slur from his lips being wrapped around your boob. When you saw the spit string connecting his lips to your nipple, your mind went into overdrive.

Your fingers were trembling as they unzipped the front of his jeans. Eddie drew his jeans past his knees, his hand bringing yours beneath the elastic cuff of his briefs to the pulsing girth of his crotch.

His hips buckled from just the simple contact of your hand, finally giving him the attention that he begged for.

“God, angel, do you feel what you do to me?” His tone was so eager that you had found it adorable how needy you both were for each other.

From the material of his underwear, he unleashes his cock. Your fingers were wrapped around his length, listening to the low whimper from Eddie like it was music to your ears, curling into your touch, stroking your hand as your fingers were already sticky with his precum dripping from the tip of his cock.

"Um, do you have a condom?" There was a pause after your question, Eddie panting as he squinted his eyes at you like so much blood had rushed to his dick that his brain was delaying everything else.

“The—in my nightstand.” He finally answered as you hopped off of his lap and crawled to the side of the mattress, your hand fishing for the big rectangle box of rubbers.

Your eyes widened at the XL label, slowly glancing back at Eddie as he shrugged his shoulders. His breath was still heavy from just wanting to touch you again.

You definitely weren't allowed to touch another condom again. Your first attempt of trying to open the plastic wrapping with your teeth ended with you ripping the condom inside in half.

Your second attempt wasn't much better. Your hands were slippery from the lube that had gotten on your fingers. Just as you twisted your fingers around the plastic to tear it, your fingers slipped away from the wrapper and collided with Eddie’s nose.

Your boyfriend huffs in laughter before snatching the wrapper from your hands and putting on the condom himself.

You were comfortable enough to laugh about it, Eddie trying to soothe you as much as possible with the warm feeling of his hands rubbing against the top of your thigh as you shed your underwear and positioned yourself over the tip of his cock.

"Oh, s—shit," Eddie grunted when you lowered yourself onto his shaft, your arms trembling as you used your thighs to hold yourself up with your head tucked into his shoulder.

Eddie let you set your own pace, his hands fisting by his side into the bed sheets as his face scutched in bliss from the feeling of you struggling to take just his tip inside of you.

The feeling of your heart beating so hard that he could feel it against his chest, his arm snaking around the curve of your waist to help you balance yourself out, listening to every small nose that parted from your lips.

As you shifted your hips to slowly take all of him, coaxing the same moan from each other, Eddie rested his head against your chest, pulling you in closer, practically hugging you as if his entire cock hadn't been buried inside of you.

The feeling of him stretching the warmth of your walls makes you feel light-headed. You wanted your body to get used to the size of him as quickly as possible, taking much more than what you had expected.

Your face twisting in pain as you squirm in his lap, trying to get rid of the sting of pain from slamming down on him with little preparation. “Take it at your own pace angel, you can take it.” Eddie encouraged you from below, leaning up to kiss you, using his mouth to relieve some of the pain, dividing your attention between your tongue invading his mouth.

Your hips stuttered, raising them slowly before starting a more stable pace. The creak in his cheap box spring was almost as long as Eddie’s moans as you rode him.

He tightens his grip around your waist, restarting himself to not snap his hips to match your pace, wanting you to have full control for your first time.

"Hmm—so big Eds," you mumbled, the fan of your breath against his ear, slamming your hips and grinding against him. He felt like he was going to pass out as he had died, and the pearly white gates were the spread of your thighs, and his heaven was the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock.

"You feel so good, Y/N," Eddie rasped. "So fucking perfect." His words of encouragement make you feel drunk just from his words.

Your hips rocking at your own pace, it was starting to become unbearable on Eddie’s side of things. His hips were trembling to the sound of your wet folds struggling to take him all the way down to the base.

The cool metal from his fingers brushed against the warm skin of your thighs, his hips shifting up almost like he was struggling to restrain himself.

You looked down and instantly recognized the pleading look, the look that told you that he needed every inch of you. Your lips met in approval as his hips bucked up into yours at his own pace.

Your head drops in pleasure, resting your forehead against his shoulder, your moans echoing like a sweet tone in his ears.

He could feel the trembling in your legs, struggling to hold himself up as he had his way with you. Eddie decides to give you a bit of mercy, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.

The moment he pulls out of you, your insides feel weird, like a ghost of him still lingering inside of you pulling away as he picks you up by your thighs with a grunt, shifting your position so that you lie with your back against the mattress.

There was a cute moment when the tip of his cock pressed against your opening, a dopey grin on his face being replaced with a moan that fell in rhythm with yours. You both feel reconnected, he slides his entire length back inside of you where you thought he belonged all along.

"You feel so fucking good," Eddie whimpered, his voice low. "You gotta let yourself go, Angel. Come on, I know you want to." leaning down as you chased after his lips, kissing him deeply.

His tongue slid into your mouth, parting your lips as the rough skin of his thumb rubbed rough circles against your clit. You had to reach your hand and place him in the right position, but it was the thought that mattered the most to you.

The new sensation is enough to drive you over the edge, and Eddie is watching your body tense and tighten from under him. The feeling of you squeezing around his cock, drawing out his own orgasm, his thrusts stuttering as he continued to ride out yours.

His fist clenched around the blanket just beside your head as he ducked into the crook of your neck.

Grunting against your neck with every thrust, his orgasm untumbled the feeling from his eyelashes fluttering from squeezing his eyes closed as he fell limp against your chest, a breath being thrown from your lungs.

You couldn't help but laugh to the best of your ability.

The feeling of Eddie laying his entire weight against you wasn’t something that you were a stranger to, it was just the first time you’d done it while being naked and him not threatening to throw you into a headlock.

Watched him struggle to stand on his own two feet, his thighs clenching as he stumbled to throw the condom away before you could peel back the blankets and slip between the bed sheets holding the blanket up as Eddie crawled to lay in front of you.

Lying on your side, your arms encircling his torso as you put your head on his shoulder and savor the warmth of his body.

Your thumb felt at ease touching his arm. "I feel like I could totally last longer than that, by the way." You chuckled, reaching your leg over his and hooking the bend of your knee into his thigh to cuddle closer to him.

"Well, my parents think I’m at band practice, so we have the rest of the afternoon."

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bestmusicalworldcup · 1 year

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I've got another propaganda request. :) When I see StarKid/Tin Can/similar productions promoted, it's usually by describing the general plot a la "the spies are gay and in LOVE!" (or whatever), or else the accessibility ("it's on Youtube with ~subtitles~"). However, none of those tell me what's actually great about the shows themselves. Without referencing the fact that the musicals contain popular tropes and can be viewed online, why should someone watch a StarKid show?

The reason that you see Starkid productions and similar musicals promoted that way is because frankly that is usually enough to get most people to watch them. (Fully accessible musicals are on short supply as you know.)

The thing about that question is that Team Starkid has produced about a dozen full-scale musicals over the course of 14 years so their style has evolved significantly over time, with many of what were considered core traits and tropes of older Starkid musicals not even being significantly present in their newer ones. However, I have done my best to come up with a general answer:

Someone should watch a Starkid show because in addition to being quite humorous (some older folks may not agree), many of them also have strong characters, storylines with serious emotional weight, and quality songs hidden underneath. The Starkid cast and crew are also all incredibly wonderful.

All these points also apply to Spies are Forever, which is not a Starkid production, but which was referenced in your ask.

Of course that answer is still a bit vague, but at the end of the day I am only a casual Starkid fan, having only seen about half of the Starkid library, and so I am not be able to give a more precise answer.

If you are looking to watch a Starkid musical for the first time, I would recommend either Twisted: The Untold Story of A Royal Vizier, or The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals, generally agreed to be Starkid's two greatest works.

Twisted gives Aladdin the Wicked treatment, retelling the story from the point of Jafar. I would watch it because it has compelling characters, one of the strongest emotional cores of any Starkid musical and some of the best songs as well (the whole score parodies the sound of the Disney Renaissance). Its story also manages to balance being a parody of Aladdin (and Wicked to an extent) with acting as an analogy of the history of the Walt Disney Company in the early 2000's.

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals features a normal guy who doesn't like musicals as his town is overrun by an alien hivemind turning his town into a musical. I would watch it simply because it is a fun musical with good songs. While it is perhaps not as emotionally potent as Twisted, the characters are still interesting and have some depth to them as well. Compared to earlier Starkid works, TGWDLM uses the traditional Starkid brand of college humor sparingly while still being quite funny, which should make it more palatable to those who are turned off by that type of humor.

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touchoffleece · 1 year

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Reflecting back over the last few years of AO3 and why it was made in the first place (to archive fan works) and older fanfic enjoyers trying to warn about purges of days gone by

It feels ironic that we're now experiencing a new fanfic purge in some sense. Either authors are trying to hide their works for a sense of control over unwanted AI Scalping in AO3 because of it's success as the best place for fanfiction hosting. Meaning unregistered or people not logged in won't be able to find fanfictions because they are behind a curtain now essentially "purging fics" from the public. Not that I blame any author who chooses to do this, I actually am pro authors doing what they feel they need to. I've decided to private fics because I really don't even like the idea of it possibly happening to my shoddy drabbles if it hasn't already and feeding into the misuse of AI by people looking for easy money. Or we see this other type of 'fanfiction purge'. New generation of fic readers being more demanding of free passion projects to the point of being rude, and driving the authors to stop writing, or even have authors publicly state the increase in considering just deleting their works because of the shift in attitude in what fic readers decide to comment under works. This observation made from looking at comments of newer fandoms (be it ao3 comments or social medias) and seeing more and more comments just be "update soon!" (and those comments only ask for more) or some veiled demand for more content under the guise of 'a joke demand for more'. And while there is nothing wrong with letting a author know you like the story and would like to read more, when it's just constant "more" comments with no acknowledgement of anything that goes on in the story/update it comes off as dismissive of the work someone put into an update. It sucks to see people act entitled to demand more from fanfic authors who are generally associated with distress but willing to put updating a fanfiction above irl commitments because of the love they hold for their fanwork, only to get asked for more and more. We have seen and know of the memes, but hey: fanfiction writers are humans, humans with emotional limits regardless of outlandish sounding some author's notes come off of to people without context. Entitled comments more likely then not lead to burn out, or authors just deciding to stop writing or decide to take their works down to not feel harassed by people asking for more. I really don't know many creative oriented people who take constant demands for more and more work without some type of reward well; and while some might try and ask "Aren't comments in themselves a feel good reward for the authors? Isn't that enough?" It probably depends on the author, but when the comments are just constant "more!" "I need the next update now!" ect, it doesn't give much feel good vibes after the initial "oh someone liked what I wrote" because more often then not they will wonder "I wonder what they liked about it" only to see the comments are just people rushing to order more free fanwork to be devoured as fast as possible without appreciation to what was already shared to the public for free. This has turned into a venting rant from what I originally had thought when I got the thought in my head late at night, but I do want to include that this probably can be linked back to people underappreciating or being apathetic about comparative literature, media literacy, or just appreciate taking art and doing some deep thinking on it, and it's a damn shame it seems it has lead to what feels like a new fanfiction purge in a place meant to be a safe space for fanfictions. Another example of history repeating itself because of complacency and forgetting or choosing to ignore our past mistakes.

#rambles #shower thoughts #archieve of our own #ao3 #ao3 discourse #fanfiction #fandom #fandom meta #fandom history #pop culture #internet history #media literacy #it's a bit sad ao3 is experiencing a 'fanfiction purge' despite so many older fic readers trying to prevent it from happening #we live in a society #anti ai #anti ai writing

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pencileraser1 · 7 months

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i think dead poets in nyc has permanently changed my perception of both todd and neil, anytime i think of them post canon i always picture them as more ethan hawke and rsl like than they are in canon.

if i remember correctly that was kind of the point, there was something about how they both had auditioned for opposite roles and peter weir decided to switch them so that by the end of the play they have swapped places in the story. it’s interesting to me how that plays out, particularly since I do think in a way they are both more themselves at the end of their character arcs than any other point. for todd it’s kind of obvious, as someone with social anxiety, although it seriously affects how i am around people, i mostly don’t really consider it to be my actual personality or what i’m really like even if it has a significant constant effect on my life. by the end of the movie todd has overcome some of that anxiety and is more comfortable existing as himself at least around the poets (see the later cave scenes and when they’re getting ready for the play) and additionally is able to stand up to nolan at the end of the play completely by himself (once he stood up it’s not surprising that half the class followed but still it was him that stood up first and he had no way of knowing what would happen).

neil to me is a bit more complicated but the way i’ve always interpreted his character arc (which is a pretty common interpretation i think) is that he always had some underlying mental health issues that he was able to hide, which was even easier since most of the movie takes place during probably the happiest period of his life. it’s interesting to me that in earlier versions he is more obviously depressed, and although i don’t consider them canon at all, i do think the intention kind of carried over, he’s still depressed but he’s hiding it instead of letting people see him in that way. although this anecdote was about todd, i think the interview with ethan hawke and rsl about the original desk scene kind of encapsulates the whole thing, i think it was ethan that said the reason the original scene didn’t work was because todd would never be that self deprecating in front of neil. i think it’s exactly the same for neil. (on a side note; the original scene i think still exists, like the whole $5.98 thing, just todd never externalizes any of those thoughts. there are multiple examples of this sort of thing comparing older versions of the script to newer ones, and i personally think they may exist in the same way, like an older version of the scene after the first confrontation with neil’s dad where neil is visibly angry, in the final version he hides it but i think he would be feeling similar emotions as could be seen in that version) to an extent i do think some of his personality is fabricated both more obviously for his father (see im trapped scene) and also in general around his peers, even if it is just pretending he’s more okay than he is although i kind of think it might go further than that . we only briefly see him pre-keating/the society/acting so it’s a bit hard to gauge what he was like before. the dropping the annual scene is the first and biggest sign something was off until the i’m trapped scene and i think it says a lot about how he deals with his issues as well as how he attempts to hide them (telling charlie and knox that they wouldn’t stand up to their parents either- im not entirely sure how true this is at least for knox but they both go along with it). since it’s an isolated incident it’s kind of easy to brush off if you don’t know where the movie is going to go, which is probably also true for his friends. after that one scene he never outwardly shows that anything is wrong other than briefly while talking to todd and in one filmed cut scene which i think was cut for a reason. to an extent even keating doesn’t know how bad it had gotten for neil; i don’t think if he knew neil was at risk of suicide he would’ve given the advice he did. the only time in the movie he actually seriously confides in someone is with keating briefly, and the next time they talk he goes back to pretending things are fine. his suicide attempt is him attempting to take control over his life in the only way he knows to do at that point. although it’s possible the only thing he hid from his peers was his mental illness, the possibility that he is masking to an even more extreme degree has always been interesting to me. for his whole life he has had to pretend to be someone else for his father, it makes sense that he’d feel the need to do the same for his friends. i don’t think he really fully learns that he can drop that mask around his friends, i think it just becomes too exhausting to hold up any longer.

i don’t thing neil would be the same post canon (if he lives). he ultimately fails at being the “dutiful son,” which even during the final argument with his father this is still something he is trying to sustain even if subconsciously, and that is part of the reason he can’t stand up to his father. i don’t think after the attempt that he’d continue to try to fulfill that role, which in turn i think could cause him to drop other aspects of his mask, esp. since everyone has already seen him at his worst. also i could see how after attempting suicide it might feel like none of this matters as much as he thought before. (to be clear i’m not trying to say his depression or his attempt is who he is, the depresson has a heavy impact on him which he hides from everyone else, up until his attempt, although i can see how comparing him as an inverse to todd whose social anxiety prevents him from doing what he wants and other people knowing who he is could come off that way.) we know todd has social anxiety and that isn’t Who he is even though it significantly impacts him and his life, and we get a better idea of who he is when his anxiety is lessened, at the same time neil is hiding the effects of his depression as well as other parts of himself and acts in a way that is most honest to who he is during the play, and to how much he is struggling in his last scene

this might be a big pile of nonsense sorry i just have too many thoughts about neil

#dumb side note; the point where we see neil the most honestly is during the play #and rsl is primarily a stage actor soooooo my point stands #to be clear i am depressed i am at least slightly qualified to talk about depression #tw suicide #dead poets society #dps #neil perry #todd anderson #anderperry #hopefully coherent

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genericpuff · 9 months

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What is your advice on handling criticism?

I saw your response to a critic on Lore Rekindled in the sub and it's very good and you could say, professional.

I have a big problem of people-pleasing, so if I get critcism (eventhough it's very polite), I get very sad at the fact there's fault with my work (I also suffer from perfectionism). It will drastically change how I see my work, and in the end I give it up 😭

fam i got teased tf out of for making it so wordy LOL

I totally get that struggle though, I know it probably doesn't seem it at times, but I do have the 'ole RSD (Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria) due to being ADHD/autistic, so I totally relate to the whole people pleasing thing. It's hard to feel like something you made isn't making everyone happy! But that's also ultimately not what it's for. You can't make everyone happy, and your art doesn't deserve to exist any less just because some people don't find it their cup of tea.

I've definitely had to like, disconnect my work from myself over the years to get better at taking criticism. Not to the point that I get apathetic, obviously I should be invested in whatever I'm working on, but enough that when people criticize my work, it's not necessarily an attack on my own self.

And if they are clearly just out to attack me, then I dismiss the criticism, it's of no value to me.

Unless it's something that's specifically a result of my own values or biases bleeding into the work, most of the time it's people literally just saying, "I like this work, but I feel like it wasn't as strong as it could have been here and here" and that has nothing to do with me as a person, I'm just still polishing my skills and those outside opinions help to target specifically what needs improving. I think we as artists pour a lot of ourselves into our work, especially when we're just starting out, so it can be hard not to take criticism as an attack or rejection of yourself, but we have to ultimately remember that we are not 100% of our work. Even with works like LO, while some of the criticism I give of it is indicative of Rachel's values and personal preferences as a person, a lot of it is also just about the work itself and how far it's fallen beyond what I assume Rachel intended from the beginning.

I've also learned to separate helpful from unhelpful criticism. I'll use Time Gate as an example because I've gotten way more input on that series than Rekindled (just because I've actually like, intentionally sought out criticism for it). A common criticism in the past was that there weren't enough backgrounds and the story's pacing wasn't concise. It sucked to hear at the time, especially the backgrounds one, because I'd heard that one time and time again... but it was literally because I wasn't doing anything to improve them. You know what stopped those criticisms? Drawing backgrounds more LOL And I still suck at backgrounds tbh but I feel like I've definitely improved compared to the first few volumes when I was just drawing characters on top of white constantly LOL

old and busted:

new hotness:

(i think there's like a 4-5 year difference between these two pages. and the backgrounds STILL aren't perfect in those newer volumes but they still feel more finished than the older panels did)

So that was helpful criticism! My art wasn't as strong as it could be in a few specific places that people were clearly able to pinpoint, so I did what I could to improve those places and I'm still working on it.

Unhelpful criticism has just been either personal attacks (not valuable) or statements that are basically asking the comic to not be what it is, criticizing things that are features, not bugs. Things like "well I think the story is too anime-like", "it's a lot to try and read", "why don't you draw eyelashes on the girl character", etc. which are criticisms of things that I know are intentional. The story's anime-like because that's the story I want to write. It's a lot to try and read because it's intended to be a longform series for people who like reading longform series (people like me!). I don't draw eyelashes on Uzuki because she would look terrible with them LMAO (we even made a joke about that later on):

(the hilarious part is that that comment was definitely made with the idea that all women should have that makeup look, meanwhile mitsuhiro's pulling off the look so much better and he knows it LMAO

And actually, the example you're referring to where I responded to crit in the ULO subreddit, is also an example of unhelpful criticism, though the person who posted it definitely didn't mean any harm by it, but the crit was literally "why aren't Persephone's boobs big enough" which I thought was pretty funny. She still has boobs! I just don't draw them popping out of her top like Rachel does LOL I also don't give her the exaggerated pinched waist or broken spine that Rachel often gives her because that's all just to, again, emphasize her boobs, and it's often unnecessary, especially in a comic that's being marketed as a feminist piece of work, yet is often drawn completely through the male gaze. So yeah, that was definitely crit that wasn't really beneficial because it was literally just about Persephone's cup size lol

I know it's easier said than done, but when you feel that sadness coming on in response to criticism, remember that that criticism exists to help you, not hinder you. Considering you've been getting polite criticism, that means the people giving it likely have your best interests in mind and want to see your work improve. The only way to do that is to learn how to critically analyze your own work, and the only way to do that is to surround yourself with works whose quality you want to achieve, and get outside opinions. And if that criticism isn't in good spirit, then toss it aside. If it's not going to help you, then it's not of any value to you. And yes, it will take practice, there are still times I find myself getting overwhelmed, but ultimately I can't control what anyone else says or does, only what I do. So I funnel that into my work and I always keep moving forward.

Be at peace with the process of learning and improving, because you never stop having to learn, there's always something new to improve, and that shouldn't be taken all doom and gloom "I'll never be perfect", that's literally just the process and beauty of being an artist, there's always something new to learn and that's something that should be exciting!

Think about whenever you give criticism or have personal critiques of other comics. I'm willing to bet most of the time, you have those opinions with good intentions, you're not trying to attack anyone. So why not give yourself the same grace?

...holy shit, I forgot Uzuki's lipstick in the bottom right panel- （；´д｀）ゞ

#and i know i'm sounding hella hypocritical because i'm MEAN about LO lmaooo #but that's what y'all followed me here for sksksksk #i'm NOT entitled to her attention or acknowledgement #and also i genuinely don't expect or wish rachel to find my crits of LO here #i do think she needs to get better at taking criticism but at this point i'm just shitposting so that's not helpful to her LMAO #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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pictureamoebae · 3 months

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Hey! I just wanted to say thanks for all the information you share regarding reshade. You've been my primary resource when it came to me making my own presets. Just wondering how the new relight performs differently in the game. You said it now works? It already seems to work great as is so it's hard to imagine it working even better but that's exciting!

Hi! I'm glad I've been able to help you along your ReShade journey!

qUINT_ReLight worked absolutely fine in TS4, but the one released in December, MartysMods_ReLight, wouldn't compile under dx9 (this was a compiling problem on Marty's end, he didn't realise it didn't work until I told him). He's put heaps of work into it since then, and now it does compile under dx9 (although needed a couple of last minute fixes the past couple of days - he doesn't have many dx9 games so relies on testers to spot things!).

The way ReLight's settings look changed between qUINT_ReLight and December's MartysMods_ReLight, and they've changed even more for this release. Basically the only settings that look the same when compared to the shader guide I made for it are how to position the point lights and that there are sections for 4 lights. Everything else has changed.

There is now a new light option, which creates a directional light that you can't move in terms of where it's placed but it casts shadows in different directions uniformly across the screen. There is SSS (sub-surface scattering), and the way you choose the colour of lights has also changed (instead of a colour picker now there are two sliders for temperature and tint).

I'll write a new guide at some point, once I've had more time to play around with it and can do it justice.

This latest ReLight does have a few little quirks in dx9 games. The shadows can sometimes be a little noisy, and it also suffers from some lines at the edges of cast shadows (similar to MartysMods_MXAO in dx9). This is a dx9 limitation unfortunately, and as Marty continues to iterate on his shaders to make them more powerful and better quality, dx9 implementation simply won't be able to keep up with it.

That's why some people may decide that for TS4 they prefer to stick with the older qUINT_ReLight version. It still works perfectly well, and doesn't have those little quirks that the newer, more advanced version has introduced.

However, you can choose instead to use DXVK to simulate TS4 running with the Vulkan api instead of dx9, which will banish those quirks, and let you use all of the various shaders that don't work at all or don't work very well under dx9.

To use DXVK, remove ReShade first (back up your ReShade installation beforehand in case you need it), and then just drop the correct DXVK dll file into your TS4 Bin folder. Then, you'll need to reinstall ReShade using the installer, and this time choose Vulkan as the api instead of dx9. ReShade will install as normal, and you can go ahead and use it as you normally would, but now with access to more advanced and fun shaders.

#ask #windslar #immerse faq #relight faq #dxvk faq #marty's mods faq

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hybeboyenthusisast · 2 years

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a txt writing blog lets go 🔥 may i rq a oneshot where yeonjun gives hints to the reader he likes them, but the reader plays dumb bc its fun to see him try?? thank u in advance🫶 maybe idol!reader aswell but if not its fine!

Hellloooo sweetie! Hope what I've written for you is okay <3 I really enjoyed writing this, such a cute n fun idea!!!

Genre: Fluff, teasing

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x gender neutral! Reader (idol!yeonjun x idol!reader

wc: 952

Yeonjun was incredibly good at flirting, or so he had thought.

The first time he met you was at an awards show, where you and your group were attending for the first time since your debut months earlier. Despite being rookies compared to Yeonjun and the rest of TXT, your group seemed completely at ease upon meeting the older idols. Your confidence caught Yeonjun's eye immediately.

You maintained eye contact, spoke clearly, and you had no hesitation when speaking to your sunbaenims. Most freshly debuted idols were still struggling to land their footing in the idol spotlight and were almost always nervous as hell around more experienced idols. You displayed none of the typical traits of a newer idol, acting with the grace and confidence of an idol with years under their belt.

It was no surprise when Yeonjun later learned that you were the leader of your group; but it was a surprise to learn that you had the shortest training period of your whole group before your debut. With only 7 months of training before your debut, there was no way your confidence made any sense to Yeonjun.

Simple intrigue turned into more as your group gained popularity, and you and Yeonjun found yourselves within the same events more and more often. Yeonjun was normally quite confident himself, but when it came to you, all his confidence seemed to disappear. The more time the two of you ran into each other, fleeting conversation turned from polite into sincere interest, the more Yeonjun developed a crush on you.

It was no secret, to you or to anyone else that witnessed Yeonjun stumbling over his words when he spoke to you. Yeonjun always flirted with you when the opportunity arose, choosing to always do so in person even when he had finally gotten your phone number. The sincerity behind his feelings for you was quite clear through his behavior, and the way he chose to only flirt in person. Yeonjun thought he was obvious, yet you never seemed to pick up on the hints he was dropping.

"We should grab coffee sometime, my treat."

"I'd love to watch you rehearse; you must work so hard. I'll take you out afterwards."

"You looked incredible on stage, I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

"Congratulations, Y/N. Let me take you out to celebrate?"

"You've got such a powerful stage presence, I can never stop watching you when you perform. You're goddamn enchanting."

Yeonjun was growing tired of asking you out and giving you the MOST OBVIOUS COMPLIMENTS EVER, and getting nothing in return. He would have given up if it wasn't for the way you teased him constantly, and kissed his cheek. While he was flirting with you mostly with his date invitations, you would always find an excuse to have your hands on him. At this point, a whole year of this back and forth with you, he was going to be as obvious as he could get and just straight up confess. He just... wasn't sure when. or how.

"Jun!" You cheered as your handsome friend poked his head into your practice room. Though you were from different companies, Yeonjun always managed to get his way inside your company's building every time you asked him to help you practice.

Yeonjun grinned as you bounced over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you hugged him. Being taller than you, Yeonjun easily placed his head atop yours and wrapped his own arms around you. "Someone's happy to see me," he teased, releasing you from his hold and taking a step back.

You grinned, bouncing a bit as you stood in place. You were.....nervous. For the first time since Yeonjun had met you. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, I really wanted to talk to you before I chickened out."

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow at you, following you as you guided him to the couch in the corner of the room. "What's going on, YN? You're nervous, you're never nervous."

The two of you sitting on the couch, you played idly with your fingers as you bit your lip, preparing yourself for what you were going to say. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

"Okay, one of your group mates told me that you have a crush on me and I don't really know any of them as well as I know you but-- I have a crush on you, so I really really hope this is true and you do."

A moment passed, and then another. Yeonjun was staring at you with wide eyes, blinking at you as he digested your words.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" the first words he breathed out, definitely not the best first response. Your eyes widened in panic, but before you could react more, Yeonjun was already panicking himself.

"Wait wait wait--- I mean YES I DO HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU! but like, you didn't know? this WHOLE TIME, you had no idea?" Yeonjun was completely baffled. Sure, you never really responded to his flirts, but surely you had SOME idea of his feelings??

You poked your tongue out at the blue-haired man. "I've known. I just grew sick of waiting for a confession," your sweet giggle and teasing words made Yeonjun's mouth drop open in surprise.

A grin quickly grew on his face, though, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. "You little shit," he laughed, shaking his head at your behavior. Sweet, passionate, teasing kisses were the only thing being practiced in that room this day.

Yeonjun thought he was incredibly good at flirting, but you were even better at teasing him.

#txt drabble #txt #choi yeonjun #yeonjun drabble #yeonjun #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x reader #txt x y/n #txt x reader #idol!reader #request #yeonjun request #hybeboyenthusiast

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