#reminder that everything here is mostly based on my own headcanons so keep that in mind ok? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sordidmusings · 7 months

Text

Cuddle Drabbles - Straw Hats and the Three Unwise Men

A/N: Companion piece to my cuddle headcanons for these characters! While I was writing the headcanons, images of these scenes popped in my head so I decided to actually write them out for y'all

Includes! Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Luffy, Usopp, Mihawk, Buggy, and Shanks

Word Count: ~4.8k total, 500+ each

Warnings: gn!reader, brief suggestive allusions, opla lean but anime also in mind, sickeningly sweet, each of them is painfully soft for you and very in love, thought too long and hard on the pet names 🤡

I hope these make you smile ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚

Zoro

Nami and Usopp giggled at you, making obnoxious kissy faces, while you rolled your eyes and continued petting Zoro’s hair. You couldn’t keep the smile off of your face though. The thought of how quickly they would rush to hide their mocking gestures if the swordsman on your lap simply rolled over added another level of amusement for you. The weight of Zoro’s head was comfortable on your thigh and the way he’d nestled his forehead and nose into your stomach had your heart fluttering. Your other hand was rubbing into his delt and bicep and he’d long since become puddy for you. You looked down on him lovingly and moved the hand in his hair down to scratch at the base of his skull. He let out a happy groan that you’re sure he wouldn’t want the others to keep for more teasing ammunition.

“C’mon hun, let’s get to bed,” you prompted softly. The sun had finished setting anyway. Not that he’d watched it for a second, too busy soaking up your attention. Zoro turns his head slightly to squint up at you. You’d never get tired of the bleary look he gives you when you rouse him from his rest. How such a handsome face could remind you so much of an over-tired toddler you’ll never know.

After staring for a few long seconds to make sure you were really going to make him move, Zoro got himself up with a sigh. He was nice enough to turn to you and give you his hands to help you stand even though both of you knew you didn’t need it. He just needed the excuse to keep touching you. All the way to the room, you held his hand in his favorite way; a palm at his wrist and fingers curling down to rest their tips in the creases of his own palm. It was born from the shy beginnings of touching each other, where everything was bursting with the adrenaline of “will they let me?” and relief at the physically spoken “yes” in return. He found that it let him reminisce at those moments while appreciating the familiarity you two have now.

The process of preparing for bed was swift. The way you both danced around each other looked rehearsed - a guiding hand here, brushing fingers there, mindless kisses everywhere in between. Zoro got into the hammock first, making sure to leave you room at his side. He had long since switched out his old hammock for a four-pointed one to give you both plenty of space. You always end up pressed together anyway.

It was an uncommon occasion when he was the one clinging to you in your bed, but you didn’t mind. You knew he needed the contact in the way he would fidget and stare at you until he decided that you’d given him enough of yourself to sate him that night. This night, that meant that you were snuggled into his side with your head on his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat and steady breathing. You’d caged one of his legs with yours, one stretched long beside it and the other resting over his thigh. He was comfortably spread out on his back, the arm behind you mostly lying limp, but from time to time it would come alive to hug you closer or rub along your back. Both of you inhaled long and full and sunk in deeply to the bedding and each other as you exhaled the day out.

Zoro placed one final kiss to your hairline with a lovingly mumbled “Night, pest.”

Ah, you love this man and his allergy to conventional sentimentality.

“Goodnight, my sweet love.”

Of course, there’s an exception for when it’s coming from you.

Sanji

Sanji pretended not to notice how you’d get in his way in the kitchen just so that he would come up behind you in a hug and teeter-totter you back out from behind the counter. The gleeful laughter it got him every time was more than worth the extra task management. He’d go toe to toe with Luffy over a lunch so late it becomes dinner if that meant more time with you. Unluckily for Luffy’s impatient appetite, you knew this too. After leading you away once more, Sanji rubbed a cheek into the back of your shoulder before dragging his chin across it to whisper sweet words in your ear.

“You’re sweeter than anything I could ever make; one more sample to help me get the taste right,” he breathed out before turning you and kissing you. Though there was no lack of passion, this kiss wasn’t meant to lead to anything; Sanji simply wanted to enjoy feeling you. Also, there were too many active flames in the kitchen for that level of distraction.

“You’re so kind keeping me company but you know I’m weak to a beautiful face,” he says softly. “Yours most of all.”

As if to prove his point, Sanji begins peppering your whole face in kisses. No one knows how to worship like this man; his lips were adoring and punctuated by nudges of his forehead against yours, eskimo kisses to your nose and cheeks and lips, and shuddering breaths warming the air you shared. He was cradling you, one hand guiding and supporting your head and one hand teasing your lower back while it held you flush together. One more searing kiss is placed on your lips before he is pulling away, trailing his hands last to touch you as long as possible.

You kept yourself busy distracting him, sometimes with questions and observations and sometimes with hugs and kisses. You knew Sanji’s palette was more refined than yours, but you also knew he meant it when he would feed you a bite of the food he was cooking because he wanted your opinion. It never failed to melt your heart; all he ever wanted was to include you and value you.

That’s why you always paid him back once you two were alone with the one thing he ever asked for: you. There were various ways he would indulge in you but tonight he just wanted to hold you and hoped that he could get you to understand how much he loves you with his endless compliments. You hoped that the adoration with which you looked at him and the tenderness with which you held him got him to understand that you always knew. It was an exchange you both would never cease, enjoying it too much and never feeling that anything was enough to express the expanse or depth of your adoration.

Sanji helped you drift off to sleep with soothing caresses to the thigh thrown over his waist and the senseless trails of his finders on your back. He cherished the weight of your head on his chest and continued to plant the occasional kiss on top of your head well after he knew you were already asleep. Like all his touches, they were for him as much as they were for you. He kept whispering sweet praises and promises to you, hoping they would reach you in your dreams.

“I am yours, my one and only love. Wherever you will go, I will follow.”

Nami

Your day was filled, as it usually was, with Nami at your side. It started with you untangling from each other to leave the bed once there were no more reasonable excuses to stay together for just a few more minutes. Getting ready was filled with gentle bumps and languid leans against one another, still too sleepy for anything truly playful. Breakfast was eaten elbow to elbow but not thigh to thigh; she had instead hooked her leg over yours and kept it there. The whole time you felt the residual motions of her gently swinging foot massaging into the top of your thigh. It still astounded you how someone so tough could also be so adorable.

The activities of the day were always made co-operative. Sometimes that word got pushed to the bounds of its meaning (sitting back to back while studying something, tinkering with something sat at her feet while she watched the log pose, making sure to be in the same room for chores) and sometimes it was right at home (discussing plans and headings, combining efforts for anything requiring great strength, creating a two person assembly line for repetitive tasks). Either way, it made the mundane comfortable, the difficult surmountable, and the wondrous meaningful.

When night fell and all the day’s needs were met, you and Nami settled yourselves on the deck to enjoy the evening. Your legs were spread and she sat curled sideways between them, peeking out at the emerging stars from her place under your chin. You had brought out a cushion and blanket so neither the hard wood nor the ocean breeze would chase you in early. You placed yourselves against the center tangerine planter, drawn by the smell of leaves and bark and dirt. The fresh smell of the tangerine tree always made you feel close to her and it made her feel close to home.

“I’ll never get tired of this,” you began. Nami turned and nosed at your neck to urge you to continue. The barely-there touch radiated goosebumps across your skin. “Holding you, having quiet time with you. You’re so amazing and I get to be the one to share this stuff with you.” You felt a shy smile spread against your skin and your chest flooded with swirling warmth. “Seriously, Nami, you’re so strong and intelligent and beautiful and kind and you deserve the world you’re going to chart.” That smile pressed a tender kiss into you. The shakiness of her breath on your neck afterward let you know how much the words meant to her.

“I love you,” Nami mumbled, still somehow timid about saying it to you. She was unpracticed in baring her feelings, but she still tried for you. You rubbed your chin over her head once, appreciating her feather-soft hair, before settling to rest your cheek back against her. Your palm found the back of her hand and you coaxed your fingers between hers. Her thumb brushes your pinky. You bring that hand to your face and kiss the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist.

“I love you too, dear heart.” You used to feel silly giving her such an old fashioned sentimental name, but the way she would choke up or hold tighter any time you said it let you know to never stop saying it, even when she received the title as easily as she swept through the seas.

Luffy

The D in Monkey D Luffy now stands for Dependent because he only ever functioned with you at this point. Not in the way that he’d become a sobbing needy mess if you weren’t around, but in the way that something felt Wrong if you weren’t touching him or at least within reach (thankfully his reach is longer than anyone else’s). Everything else would be left on standby while the ever impulsive man would find you to fix it without even thinking about what he was doing. That behavior had tipped you off to his soft spot for you, but the way your plate was the only one he left untouched by his stealing hands made it inarguable.

His impulsive nature also led him to hold (read: “manhandle”) you however was easiest or however Luffy felt like at the time. At first you felt a bit out of your element being at his whims and finding yourself in strange or intimate positions in front of others, but you eventually stopped caring. Sometimes it was even amusing to see the exasperated and perturbed looks you’d get from the crew if one of you was hooked around the other in a particularly creative way. One of your favorites is when he’d swing and carry you around upside down with his arms holding tight around your waist and your legs bouncing above them. It made you feel like a kid again and it was fun to jokingly threaten the others with your kicking legs at eye level. Luffy loved being able to just grab and play with you in a way that was 98% innocent (the other 2% was enjoying the view he got).

You were spending the end of the day as you usually did; sitting together on the figurehead of the Going Merry, watching the dark waves and sky. Luffy had his arms snug around you and his legs spread to frame yours. The warmth of his body felt heavenly pressed against you, contrasting perfectly with the crisp ocean breeze on your face. You held his precious hat in your hands, keeping it safe so he was free to snuggle his face into you. His hands would knead at your sides or move to squeeze yours lovingly. His swinging feet had his legs shifting consistently next to yours, only interrupted by his occasional need to give you a full body squeeze because his affection was too great to hold back anymore. He was only ever still when he was sleeping and even then he’d still manage to toss and turn whenever the whim struck him.

You turned enough to look back and see his smile, which only grew when you planted a big kiss on his cheek. His movements slowed when you trailed the tip of your nose along his cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth. You were pulling out a languid Luffy that only you got to enjoy.

“Come on, sunshine, let’s go to bed.”

Luffy nodded in agreement then leaned his forehead into your temple. “Only if you’ll be there too,” he bargained brightly.

“I’ll think about it,” you teased, as if you could even remember the last night you spent without him wrapped around you.

Usopp

Flustered Usopp never fails to unlock your cute aggression. That’s why you’ve taken the liberty of snuggling up to him when the crew all gathered on the deck to unwind with drinks (sans Luffy who was getting a mustache from his usual milk). You’ve been together for awhile, the crew has known you’ve been together for awhile, the crew knew even longer than that that both of you were fools for each other, and yet Usopp still gets all shy. You’ve checked in with him to make sure it wasn’t an anxious feeling, to which he responded that “the brave Captain Usopp never feels anxious”. At your deadpan look, he eventually answered much more sincerely, saying that it was more of an overwhelmed feeling. A good overwhelmed.

So you didn’t worry when you squished into his side, arms snug around his waist to make absolutely sure that there’s not a single millimeter keeping you apart. It didn’t make you pause when having your legs thrown across his lap caused him to chuckle nervously and talk through stutters. You didn’t back off when his voice cracked from the feeling of your lips pressing just below his collarbone. It was cute that it still affected him so much with the feeling of your lips muffled through his shirt.

As the night wore on and the bottles emptied, Usopp got bolder and you got sleepier. It was the perfect combination really; by the time you became boneless he was no longer afraid to pull you into his lap and indulge the both of you in affection. His skittering touches turned into sweeping caresses across your back, gentle scratching at your scalp, and soothing massages on your legs. Usopp took his time to enjoy touching you and you soaked everything in, letting it lull you further into hazy relaxation.

The transfer from deck to bedroom was a blur of leaning bodies, pulling hands, and stumbling feet. Giggles played out as well, of course; the free kind that cared not for volume control, acceptable timbre, or suppressing snorts. This whirlwind of sound and motion continued all the way until you collapsed against the bed. Thankfully the two of you had the wherewithal to fling your shoes and most of your clothes off before you fell into the mess of plush blankets and pillows.

“How do you want me,” you asked in your most ridiculous parody of a sexy purr.

Usopp laughed and then took his time sashaying over to you, swaying more than necessary due to the influence of fruity drinks. He crawled on top of you on his hands and knees and leaned in close to you, faking a pass at your lips to then make his way to your ear. You awaited something teasing or sensual.

“Little spoon!” he said cheerfully and plopped into his side next to you.

You smiled cheerfully at his playful toying with the mood. You quickly turned and shimmied yourself backwards to lay flush to his chest. Usopp greeted you with a crushing, cute-aggression fueled hug. The way your heart pounded with joy made you thankful he was holding you tight, lest it jump right out of your chest. You returned the pressure for a moment with your own arms around his, before you both relaxed into the embrace.

“I need bedtime stories, please,” you said. You knew he’d be more than happy to give you what you wanted.

There was a kiss to the back of your head. “Of course, snuggle bug.”

You drifted off in your favorite way; wrapped in Usopp’s arms and half-listening to the fantastical tales his sleepy voice wove for you.

Mihawk

Laying with Mihawk was a treat for the senses. All of his strong muscles became soft pillows for you to lay on and he radiated steady warmth like blankets fresh from the drier. You don’t know how he managed it, but he always smelled so good like an expensive blend of scented oils you’d only find on the back shelves of worldly markets. The weight of his hands and arms on you was soothing and made you feel protected. When his hands weren’t holding you to him, they were lightly massaging into you, working out all your stresses from the day. When he’d brush his cheek and jaw across your temple, his facial hair would tickle you teasingly or have your skin tingle pleasantly.

It made it all the more difficult when you needed to get up. Right now you wanted up because you had gotten into his hold immediately upon entering your shared room, which meant you had no time to change. At this point you had become settled enough to yearn for comfier clothes to sleep in. You moved your hands from grasping his thick shoulder and tracing shapes on his pec to plant them into the bed and lift yourself up. You pushed but couldn’t make it even a millimeter away. In fact, you’ve caused reverse progress; Mihawk's arms were now cinched around your waist, pressing you even closer. You arched your back to raise your head and shoulders. He was already staring at you. Though his whole face was relaxed, the way he stared unblinking felt accusatory.

“I have to change,” you explain, though you do move your hand to draw on his chest again. You can't help it - it’s right there. Mihawk continued to stare deeply into your eyes with those yellow irises that always had you feeling naked and vulnerable. Good thing he was always there to keep you safe through those feelings (and maybe exploit that thrill when the mood struck him). When he decided enough time had passed for you to understand what you did wrong, he smoothed one hand up to rest between your shoulder blades and pushed you back down into his chest, making you let out a little “oof!”. He kept the pressure there until he felt you fully relax against him and shift slightly to meld completely into his hold. He turned a kiss to your temple in praise for your acquiescence.

“Just a while more, little lamb,” he murmured. The way that his hands moved over you, exploring and caressing like you were precious and divine, made it easy to relent. The way his core had minutely tensed below you let you know he was dreading your parting, anxious about losing your touch.

You placed an obliging kiss against his chest and he could relax again. “Anything you want, my love.”

He guided your head up so that he could give you a kiss in return. “So good for me,” he praised against your lips.

“I’ll be anything as long as it’s for you,” you promised, staring earnestly into his eyes. You watched as his pupils dilated further, eating away at that piercing yellow.

Mihawk dove forward to give you a quick, but fierce, kiss. After pulling back, he pressed your foreheads together so your noses brushed and your breaths mingled, wishing for it to somehow bind your souls directly together, never to part.

Buggy

You knew Buggy was going to practically smother you while cuddling tonight from the moment he shot his hand out to you upon your entrance and dragged you to meet him on his throne. As with most nights on the Big Top, there was drinking and merriment so you had to use all your skills to duck and weave through the literal circus and make it to him unruffled. Buggy had started with you sitting sideways across his lap but quickly decided that wasn’t close enough. You were turned so that you could wrap both arms and legs around him, while his arms pulled you firmly into him. You laughed because he continued fussing like that still wasn’t close enough.

You knew just how to placate him long enough to let you eat and drink before he stole you off to bed to be his personal teddy bear. You kissed his jawline with a whispered “you have such a sharp jaw, it’s so sexy” and he stopped his grumbling. You rubbed out the tension in his shoulders and he stopped fidgeting. You nuzzled into the side of his head and his grip became less desperate. You nosed at the sensitive skin behind his ear and he forgot that there was even anything to forget. Only then were you safe to lean back and have your dinner, paying for the distance with kisses to his hand, wrist, and cheek between bites of your meal.

When you were done, Buggy threw you over his shoulder to carry you to the Captain’s quarters. It was his favorite way to remind everyone (and reassure himself) that you had chosen him and you were his. The moment you were behind a closed door, you took advantage of your position and gave him a firm slap to the ass. Instead of scolding you, he responded with a slightly harder slap to your own ass, getting you to let out a barking laugh. He may have also left his hand there afterwards to, you know, help hold you more stably.

Once in bed, you ended up exactly as expected - absolutely enveloped in Buggy. He had opted to have you lay on your back with him on your chest and his arms back to gripping you tight. His head was buried in the crook of your neck, where he tried to keep his nose in the sheets and off of you. You would shove him right back into the comfier position each time. Even with his face shoved into you, you managed to hear him complain, “You’re supposed to hold me back.” What a needy baby; your arms were already around him and your legs were spread so he could lay in between them.

You lifted your legs up to hook around his waist, clasped your arms in a ring around his chest, and squeezed with all your might. A sharp “hnnnghk” rushed out of him with all the air in his lungs and you laughed loud and long, losing the strength of your grip under the force of your joy. You’re lucky that’s Buggy’s favorite sound because he was getting ready to bite into your shoulder for freedom and vengeance. When you settled back down, you did what he was actually seeking and pressed him into you with a firm warm hand on the center of his back and the back of his head. Both legs slid down, one to hook your calf around his and the other to press into the length of his. You felt his chest expand as he inhaled as far as his lungs would allow and contract as he exhaled all the tension from his body.

“Rest, love,” you gently encouraged. You placed a kiss on his temple. “I’m not going anywhere, even when you sleep.”

Buggy placed answering kisses to the skin at the base of your neck.

“Thank you, showstopper.”

Shanks

This night was playing out as many had before; you sat on the floor in front of Shanks between his spread legs, sharing jokes and memories over drinks with the rest of the crew. You had each of your arms hooked behind his calves, hanging loosely from a grip on each knee. You’d indulge Shanks with sporadic kisses to the sensitive skin inside his knee and thigh. He’d repay you by playing with your hair or rubbing at your shoulders, just the way he knows you like.

You two were sharing a large bottle of dark rum. You’d ask for it by craning your head back with a pout or tugging insistently at his clothes and he’d tease you by placing it to rest on top of your head or establishing eye contact and taking a long drink. For the past few tugs at his empty sleeve to get his attention and hopefully some rum, you only earned him deliberately missing the point to give you a kiss instead. This time he gave you an upside down kiss when you looked back and you whined into his mouth. He didn’t linger long and you tried your hardest to look upset with him. More laughs burst out around you at your poor attempt.

“What is this? You don’t want my kisses anymore,” Shanks questioned dramatically, his hand coming to his chest like he’s wounded. The effect would’ve been stronger if that hand wasn’t still holding the jug of rum. “You curse me; I can never survive without your love.”

“Then you better start paying for it with that booze,” you warned through an insuppressible grin. His chest shook with his laugh and he finally swung the bottle your way.

Over the course of the night, you made your way into his lap, allowing your tipsy self the perfect opportunity to be all over him. The crew was used to it anyway, and the two of you always scampered off before anything exceeded PG-13, so no one gave it a second thought. Currently, you were leaned into his chest with his arm wrapped around your back. Your left arm cradled what was left of the rum in your lap and your right arm was reached out to where you were diligently massaging his left shoulder and upper arm. You had worked him until he was boneless and you were positive he’d be purring if he could. Neither of you registered the jokes about the sickeningly sweet display or how tightly wrapped Shanks was around your finger. Eventually, Shanks gained the strength of will to loll his head forward and rest it against yours.

“Ready to move to bed, darling?” he asked. The gentle way he began rocking you made it difficult to answer.

“Too far,” you mumbled.

“Grab on,” he sighed, scooching you both forward in his seat. The jug was moved to the floor and you spun to face Shanks, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You let out a happy hum at the close contact. While standing up, he groaned much louder than necessary for a man who could probably lift a ship. His hand happily gripped your ass to support you the whole way to his bed. He tried to lean over it so you could detach yourself safely but you just held him tighter. Never able to tell you no, he crawled into the bed with you instead of pulling you off of himself.

There wasn’t much rearranging once you both made it onto the bed - just enough to haphazardly cover up with a blanket and make sure Shanks wasn’t crushing you to death. You felt your mind begin to float away but you couldn’t end the night without saying, “I love you, my dear captain.”

You just barely caught his eternal response before you fully slipped under.

“I love you too, my north star.”

2K notes · View notes

thebottomfromhell · 5 months

Note

hey, i read your upper moons x goth reader headcanon and i was wondering that what if upper moons have female lolita reader ? Like she is wearing cute easthatic clothes

Ngl when I read the word "female lolita" I choked on the air, then I read further and I has like "ahhhhhhh victorian clothes". Anon, you almost gave me an attack (I've read the book).

Friendly reminder this freaks are in Taisho Japan, but most of are from Edo Japan, so they would have their own opinions about a style based on the Rococo French (bruh, France, Portugal, Spain and England colonizing the world is one of the reasons Japan closed their borders in Edo 😭, Japan ALWAYS hated outsiders, it is NOT a WWII thing).

How do the Uppermoon feel about your asthetic? Victorian inspired styled (lolita) Female Reader

Warnings: Slight infantilization (not sexual), Implied xenophobia (these are mostly japanese men from edo, like... c'mon.), Mentioned cross-dressing, Kokushibou being a grampa x2 and Akaza's implied angst (bit of spoilers of his backstory).

Gyutaro:

Ok, here is the thing.... it's too much. He can't even keep out with the amount of details your robes (are those even robes? He can't tell at all) are making him dizzy. Also, it looks expensive... and uncomfortable, even if he knows that is not relevant in the world of beauty. Isn't it a bit too tight on the waist? Why is the skirt so pompous? Is it not hard to walk with those? And don't get him starting with those shoes, he hates them. And it wasn't him... but Gyutaro threw afaw your make up, not feeling confident that it wasn't toxic (Daki's isn't any better, but she can stand it). "You don't like it?" You ask as you spin to show him your newest set of clothing, seeing he is not very enthusiastic about it.

Usually he would like anything that goes against Japan's beauty standard, but this is not too different to like nor similar enough to hate. And he really wants to like it, because you like it and dressing like that makes you happy. He knows that, and really wants to tell you he likes it, that he likes how you look (because he likes how happy you look), but in the end "Ne... fuck it, my taste is shit anyways, ne." Gyutaro is doing no compromises.

Gyokko:

Gyokko straights adores it. De details! The uniqueness! The details! The mix of empowerenment and innocence in the skirt! The tightness is perfect, showing your body shape better than any kimono, making your curves visible. Round and symetric, the perfection of the world in shapes but with way too flashy and uncharacteristic colours, make up to make your skin glow up, he can't help but get into it. He adores the dresses, and sometimes he is tempted in using a female canvas with one of those, it would look beautiful! Kitsch! Definetely the perfect complement for his arts.

"I know that is I give you one I won't be recieving it back, if you are going to wear it or make another girl wear it it's the same." You argue when he asks for some of your materials, the only thing you let him get away with are the hair accesories and jewelry, not because those are easy to find, but because the dress can get to be... too much, even for you, that you won't be missing them as much. Also, you can trust Gyokko to do your hair and make up, so you must be able to give him things that go from your neck to above, He is as supportive as he can be, being Gyokko.

Hantengu:

It's... intimidating, everything put together. The heels make you taller and make too much noise against the wood, the robe (it's... it's a robe, right? What do you mean it's not? Then what is it?) in the skirt takes up a lot of space, more than a kimono, but besides that, it's pretty. And it suits you because of it, since you are pretty. He doesn't know how to voice it, but it's something nice to look, even if it's not easy on the eyes because of the amount of details, it makes him feel tipsy.

Sometimes he halps you with your hair and make-up, he knows how to make ponytails and braids, and besides a clear base your make up it's not so hard to do (when his pulse is not working against him, of course). He is more than supportive, even if he doesn't find the words to describe it.

Sekido:

"So? What do you think?" You ask Sekido and... he just looks at you for 5 minutes straight, a face that clearly says "are you kidding?" as he then proceeds to examine what you wear. A new dress, like the other one, full of details and looking uncomfortable as fuck, besides that too many accesories for his liking, but... you do seem happy, and he knows you like expressing yourself that way. "Looks good." Better than anything Urogi and Karaku can pull, he tells himself, and you do look good.

As long as he doesn't have to wear himsef any of that, the make-up, the produced hair-styles, the gloves, the heels, the skirt... everything is too much. Honestly, if you give him any of those as a gift, or even just lending or trying it on him, then he will give it to Karaku to lose it and Urogi to destroy it. He will support you in whatever you want to wear, it's not his problem, he sees the beauty in it, but it's not for him.

Karaku:

Karaku thinks it's cute. Something about it screams "childish" and "indulging", the feeling of being down below and on top at the same time. He has heard foreign, the ones you buy all this expensive stuff from, the term "kitsch" to describe it, "bad taste". He likes it, so you should not be surprised when he starts stealing these dresses for you, enjoying how... "flashy" it is. The details, the heels, the weird sizes, the tightness in the waist and the curves? What it's not to like? And you look happy in those.

After a while he also starts stealing things for himself, barely using them, but every once in a while he likes to mess around with this type of clothing. It's not the most comfortable, specially since it was desighned to be for women (men's attire is completely different, and he finds it boring compared to the ones you use), it's just to cause trouble. To look pretty and, in his body, like a pervert. These are good laughs, even if you don't feel the sime, but you are glad he is vocal about liking your style.

Urogi:

Urogi adores it, he thinks it's unique. "I have never seen anything like this before." He comments as he takes away a piece of the hair accesories, pulling it and toying with it in his hands, wearong doesn't seem as nice as it would be to make a nest with it. You answer that it's mostly based from an old style from Europe, another continent, a concept you have to explain to him. Urogi gets curious and asks as much as how did you get these things and about the continent they come from, you have never been there so you answer as much as you can.

"It's weird to be able to trade with humans beyond the see, last time I check they were a possible menace and pest. Didn't the borders close in Edo because of them?" He tries to understand, but because he was alive in that time he is the one that should be explaining it to you. He seems more interest in the concept of being from outside than the look itself, but he does steal your things to build nests. Besides that, he is not that interested, and you can't trust him with your stuff (not even the make up, he ate it once).

Aizetsu:

Aizetsu thinks it looks... young... childish sometimes. That is not exactly a good thing. He knows you want to look cute, but... can't you at least wear something less indulgent? It looks expensive, and damn him if he doesn't feel melancholic when he sees the bill of those things you wear. (Leave it to the west, he swears they always battle to make things the most expensive they can, should have kept the borders closed). Also, it doesn't really look comfortable. with everything over it he can't tell you you are reaching to look like yourself or look how you would like to be seen, because it's too much effort to, everyday fix your hair, make up, wear clothes that are hard to walk and run with (and surrounded by demons, no less).

Aizetsu always thought it was sad how it was expected for women to "fix" themselves for their families, for their husbands, for their society, and he doesn't know what to think while seeing you. "So, what do you think?" You show him another set, he has been thinking into asking help from Karaku and Hantengu to get money (stealing it, what else?) so he can at least support you a bit, because no matter his thoughts on the matter, you seem happy in those dresses. "It looks fine." So he plays along (even if he thinks he is cuter when making sad puppy eyes than you with all those things, maybe that is why he doesn't understand the effort. He doesn't need it, why do you?)

Nakime:

"I'm not wearing any of that." Is the only thing Nakime said before leaving with her biwa to another room-dimension-floor-whatever after you came with another one of those dresses of that style you wear. You know, skirt at the lenght of the knee (at most), many details, tight on the waist, socks over the knee, hair accesories and make-up powder, but in black and grey, asking her her to wear it. You thought it would look cute on her, she didn't agree. Nakime... doesn't like it, it feels odd for her, too foreign for her liking, because she does like luxurious items, the hause has them, but she likes traditional luxury. This is... too European.

Also, Nakime feels is a bit... infantilizing in some point, so she would rather avoid the experience of wearing it at all. She has never shown or vocalized her dislike because in her view it has nothing to do with you, she doesn't like it, but you do. You can wear whatever you want, it's not her job to police you, but she is not even going to try it on, no matter how much you ask. Nakime can and will also compliment you from time to time, only to feed you confidence, but she is not more supportive than that.

Akaza:

He... feels weird about it, there is something that he doesn't like and he doesn't know- fuck it, Akaza knows exactly what he doesn't like, the fact that you, as a woman, are trying to dress more like you were younger, the lenght of the skirt is the one you would expect only in young children, he remembers Edo, he used to dress.... forget it , he did, the thing is, you are a young lady, why look like a child with all the pink and details and fragile looks like she had. She was sick, he had to take care of her. Why are you reminding him she was just a girl? A girl who dresses with pink, the patterns were not as flashy as they couldn't afford more, but he would have given her more. "Akaza?"

He looks at you are you where showing him another set and he zoomed out. He looks at you a bit lost before answering quickly "Yeah... yeah, it looks nice. Soft pink... it's nice." He wants to take care of you, but not in the usual way, he wants to fix you beddings and set you there and talk you to sleep, keeping awake as he looks down at you, hopefully soundly sleeping, waking you up from nighmares and comforting you after. To bring you food and check your temperature, not let you up. He doesn't understand it, why would he want to treat you like a child? He can't get it, so he can't like it. "It's nice."

Douma:

Douma likes it, it's knew, foreign. He doesn't have many outsiders as followers, five at most if he is not wrong, but his cult recieves them nonetheless. He must admit, just one had a style any remotely similar to yours, European, and he ended up killing that same follower. It was not personal, they were not liked around in general, carrying too much silly ideas of their own nation to accept the superiority of those in front of him, accusing Douma of being a demon, so he got silenced. Honestly, it's entertaining, the details, the shape, the make-up, the heels... it's all so outstanding.

Douma adores new things, new tastes, anything than can kill monotony and boredom. But besides that? He doesn't care. You can dress whatever you want and he couldn't care less, and once het gets used to this look then he will stop caring. His only interest is to see more of this foreign culture, and take a bite id he can. He will not point your looks out, mostly not wanting you to be berated for them, since it's hard to get along with Europe, it has always been, so you could say he is ignoring it.

Kokushibou:

So.... Kokushibou will not say an opinion... but he will. "It looks inappropriate." Really, the skirt is a bit short, showing from your knees to below or even more... you are a young lady, not a child, you should be covering properly. Women in his times did (we heard you gramps 😅). Also, the details are too much and it gives off the impression that you expend too much money on yourself (the proces really are not at your favor in that argument) and are seeking too much od spotlight, it defies what a proper lady should look like, with simple grace and humble wealth (as if that existed 😒), and he dislikes it. It does follow some of Japan's beauty standars, like the use of clear bases and make-up that doesn't fight your natural skin tone, so he doesn't hate it.

Still, while he has never told you how you should dress, he really doesn't like it. It's clearly a foreign style and, honestly? He is not impressed, it's clearly meant to be for those who lack the discipline of the Japanese traditions, meant to break the links with the ancestors and the values in simplicity. What else could he expect from outsiders? The fact that you use that... clothes only for the sake of indulging proves him right! (Yeah, yeah, go to sleep Kokushibou) So don't you dare including him in... this phase of yours. (... at least he is not fainting of horror 🤣).

#demon slayer #kny #upper moons #kny x reader #karaku #urogi #aizetsu #sekido #gyutaro #hantengu #gyokko #nakime #akaza #douma #kokushibou #seriously who invented the idea of “lolita” in japan?#Victorian rococo inspired people #My career is making me biased

63 notes · View notes

raccoonfallsharder · 5 months

Text

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚2023 in review

i was thinking about doing a "year in review" but then i realized that's just. everything so far. so you could check out the ˗ˏˋ★ˎˊ˗masterlist ˗ˏˋ★ˎˊ˗ if that's what you want.

here's the highlight reel though!

fluff. smut-free, can usually be read platonically or romantically ✮ spice. explicit lines or references ✩ smut. abbreviated explicit sequences ❤︎ smut. detailed/prolonged explicit sequences ❤︎❤︎

everyone's fave: ✩˚₊‧♡ Blackmail Material ♡‧₊˚✩ [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | 3/3 parts | word count: 30,591. a classic tale of "that fuckin raccoon found your sex toy." post-endgame friends-to-lovers smut with feelings.

the one that started it all: ⋆｡°✩ The Very Boring Adventures of Space Pilot & Sweatshirt Girl ✩°｡⋆ [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | | no use of y/n | f!reader | 5/5 visits | word count: 37,783. In Rocket Raccoon: Grounded (2016) / Issue #3, Rocket asks a stranger on the ferry to "make sure nobody does anything weird" to him while he naps, and the stranger just, like, abandons him while he's sleeping?? who does that? when a stranger asks you to watch their stuff in a coffee shop, it's a holy obligation. x100 if it's a hot local space pilot trying to catch some Zs on the ferry. get in loser we're gonna fix it. first installment in the ⋆｡°✩ Domestic Scenes in Space Travel ✩°｡⋆ series. comics-based but you don't need any comics background knowledge to ride this ride.

my very first kinktober!: °˖✧♡ kinktober 2023 ♡✧˖° [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | 12 complete days | word count: varies. just a lot of raccoon smut (usually with feelings). mind the ao3 tags. minimal editing (ie, typos abound; concepts are superficial; in kinktober we say "fuck everything - including plot").

a fluffy anthology of eight oneshot reminders: ✩࿐࿔take what you need [COMPLETE / ONGOING] ✮ fluff | gn reader | no use of y/n | drabbles | word count: varies. the world is hard, and sometimes it's difficult to complete daily tasks & take care of yourself (aka rocket bullies you for your own damn good). this is about as wholesome as it gets (for me) i think. can be read platonically or romantically. mcu-based, meant to take place post-volume-3, but headcanon however you want ♡

my (current) personal fave oneshot: adorations 𖥔 ݁˖⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | oneshot | word count: 4,518. you have a habit of complimenting rocket. he decides to give you plenty of reasons to keep doing so. aka rocket has a praise kink and no-one can convince me otherwise. mcu-based smut with feeeeelings. set sometime shortly after volume two. dirty talk, (light) biting, (light) degradation, use of slut as a term of endearment. fast-burn enemies-to-lovers & angst with a happy/hopeful ending. praise kink, obviously. part of ⋆ ˖ ⁺ ‧₊ ☽ anthology ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

other notables! let me love your OCs ˗ˋˏ♡ˎˊ˗ ✩ over fifteen pieces of fanart for fellow gotg fans!

˚₊‧✶headcanons & minifics✶‧₊˚ [COMPLETE / ONGOING] ✮ fluff | no use of y/n | gn reader | complete | word count: varies. twenty-two headcanons, minifics, & drabbles! mostly fluffy, sometimes angsty.

Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ* ❤︎❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | rocket x f!oc | 23/27 chapters | wip | word count: pending. 23 of 27 chapters in this longform fic (to be completed this february!)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ 2024 aspirations

january

Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ Chapter XXIV & XXV ❤︎❤︎

florescence❀, chapter four year three: flowering. ❤︎

✩࿐࿔ take what you need. just buy the damn thing already & it's fuckin' laundry day.

february

Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ Chapter XXVI & XXVII [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎

florescence❀, chapter five year four: formation. ❤︎❤︎

✩࿐࿔ take what you need. get some frickin' sunshine. ✮

⭑˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall, part one: planting. ✩

march

florescence❀, chapter six year five: dispersal. [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎

✩࿐࿔ take what you need. have you taken your meds today? ✮

⭑˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall, part two: ripening. ❤︎

･:*𑁍✧˚₊ eavesdropper ₊˚✧𑁍*:･ oneshot. ❤︎❤︎

april

⭑˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall, part three: plucking. [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎

real *ੈ✩༄‧₊˚ oneshot. rating TBD

꧁:･☁︎ ⋆. cicatrix ⋆. ☁︎ :･꧂ part one & two. ❤︎❤︎

may

꧁:･☁︎ ⋆. cicatrix ⋆. ☁︎ :･꧂ part three & four. ❤︎❤︎

warm compress ☾.༊·˚⋆⭒˚｡⋆ oneshot. ✮

june

꧁:･☁︎ ⋆. cicatrix ⋆. ☁︎ :･꧂ part five & six. [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎

untitled⋆｡°✩ Domestic Scenes (aka Sweatshirt Girl) ✩°｡⋆"finale" [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎

july

᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊°.⋆｡✶˖ evasive maneuvers (practice expansion) parts one & two [COMPLETE] ❤︎❤︎

★♫｡°𝄞☕︎✎▤ other duties as assigned ▤✎☕︎ 𝄞°｡♫★ begins? [LONGFORM / SLOWBURN].

august

sunshine ☀︎ ⋆⁺☁︎⋆₊⊹ (sunshine expansion) unknown parts. ❤︎❤︎

★♫｡°𝄞☕︎✎▤ other duties as assigned ▤✎☕︎ 𝄞°｡♫★ begins? [LONGFORM / SLOWBURN].

24 notes · View notes

maochira · 1 year

Note

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE LIKE YOU TO BE WILLING TO WRITE FATHER HC'S OMG. Anyways, lavi, Chris and noa father hc's or the reader is their student or smth and they see the reader as their own kid and the reader sees them as their own father??

Let's do both! I'll do the father headcanons in this post and the others in a separate one. Also receiving this ask made me very very happy!! Thank you so much anon!

These headcanons mostly apply to them having young children btw

I posted some dad!Chris headcanons a couple days ago, so I'll only do Lavinho and Noa here.

Requests still open, so feel free to suggest more stuff :]

Lavinho as a father!

-is very open about how much he loves his kid! Like, very very open. Talking about them every chance he gets. Like in interviews he probably gets asked a question about his kid every once in a while and then he goes on a 10-minute ramble about how much he loves them

-But! He would never share anything else than basic info. He tries his best to keep his child out of the public eye as well.

-LOVES carrying his child. No matter if on his shoulders, on his back or on his arms. He loves it so much that when his kid learned how to walk he really had to hold himself back from not picking them up all the time because he knew his child needs to learn to walk properly.

-when his kid gets older, at some point he stops carrying them around. But! To compensate for that, whenever he hugs his child he picks them up and maybe spins around once or twice

-whenever he's out in public with his kid, as soon as they get spotted by fans or paparazzi he picks his child up in his arms, their head to his chest (close to his heart) and covers their face with his jacket

Noa as a father!

(A/N: man I love dad!Noa so so much because he reminds me of my father,,, so a couple of these headcanons will be based on him)

-he has the biggest softspot ever for his child. Like whatever they do, his heart just melts into a little puddle of love

-he grew up very poor, and now he's the world's best striker aka he's rich and can provide a really good life for his child

-he wouldn't spoil them, tho. For him, it's really important to teach value to his kid since he doesn't just want them to grow up with everything they want. He wants them to grow up with everything they need. And sure, that includes gifts, but Noa is very careful with that.

-like, he really avoids showing love with material gifts. Instead, when it comes to love languages, he focuses on quality time the most, physical touch and words of affirmation being close after that

-one of his favourite things to do with his child is to watch a movie in the evening and cuddle!! At least once a week

-whenever he has to travel and can't take his child along, saying goodbye is really hard for both of them and it just hurts him so so much to see the tears in his kid's eyes but he knows he has to leave on time

#BLUE LOCK FATHER HEADCANONS LETS GOOOOOO #this feeding my father complex so so well #i am noa's child (real) (my dad is like him fr fr)#noel noa #lavinho #blue lock noa #blue lock noel noa #blue lock lavinho #blue lock #bllk #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons

112 notes · View notes

incomingalbatross · 7 months

Note

Trick or treat! (Stargate SG-1 edition, especially any fic ideas or headcanons)

Okay so I don't know if this will turn out as a headcanon, a fic idea, an outline, or something in-between BUT what it mostly is is an Excuse. :P So here goes

The first time Teal'c watches Star Wars, the team's been grounded for a week. Don't ask me why - maybe the Gate's shut down, maybe Jack and Sam have leave, maybe Daniel's been exposed to a strange space pathogen and is in isolation while they wait to see if it's deadly. Important thing is, they don't have missions and Teal'c (it's early days still) isn't allowed off-base.

Sam pokes her head in his room with a set of VHS tapes and says, "Hey, I brought some Earth culture you might be interested in!" Explains that Star Wars is a classic and even if he doesn't like them, it'll still be useful to know the references.

Teal'c, very bored and always willing to hang out with one of his comrades, agrees.

He likes Episode IV. There's good vs evil. They're fighting an evil space empire! He gets to see what kind of space combat the Tau'ri have made up for their stories.

He thinks it's kind of...charmingly idealistic? Like, there's an Evil Oppressive Space Empire but there's still enough freedom for Luke to have his ideals and Leia to have a government position (they HAVE a government?) and even Han gets to choose whether he wants to fight the Empire or just slip under its radar. It's a little hard for Teal'c to relate to, but he enjoys it. It seems very much like his friends' views of the world.

Obi-Wan reminds him of Bra'tac. :) Vader reminds him of Apophis. >:/ Teal'c sees something of his team in the main characters.

Episode V! Sam is Very Excited.

Vader is still alive? Teal'c is disappointed by what, honestly, seems like an incursion of reality. Why won't the evil galactic rulers ever ACTUALLY die when they look like they've died.

He's invested in all the action on Hoth, though. These heroes still read as very Tau'ri to him, with their emphasis on loyalty to their friends and their hope and all that. He wants them to succeed.

He does guess the Yoda reveal. A little too similar to the Nox. :P

Then it's back to Darth Vader on his evil spaceship and

Darth Vader goes down on one knee and asks "What is thy bidding, my master?"

And they've taken plenty of pauses before while watching these movies, so Sam can answer questions about effects or plot conventions or other things lost in cultural translation, but this time when Teal'c says "Pause," he doesn't really have anything to ask. Just, "That...is the Emperor?"

Sam says, "Yeah," and they keep going. But suddenly the fun Tau'ri escapist fantasy is a little harder to watch, as Teal'c processes the fact that the villain of the piece to date isn't actually a System Lord.

Darth Vader is a First Prime.

Everything Vader does now leads to new questions Teal'c isn't sure the story even thinks it's raising. Like, does he want to be doing this? and Does he think he has a choice? and Why is he doing it? and How did he get to this position?

Teal'c watches Vader torture Han and tries not to think about his own past.

And then. AND THEN. You know what comes next.

(Turns out the movie did want him to be asking at least some of those questions about Vader.)

Turns out the evil Emperor's right hand is also a FATHER. He's the HERO'S father. But he also cuts off Luke's hand because the only option he'll apparently countenance is for Luke to join him in the darkness.

But he's a FATHER. He IS a person, not just a faceless villain. But does that make him better or worse?? If he's a person and he chooses to be part of the Empire, then all the questions Teal'c has about him have bad answers.

But also how is LUKE - the idealistic, hopeful shining figure of a Tau'ri hero - going to deal with his idolized father turning up on the Empire's side.

...Suffice to say, Teal'c is glad to see Han rescued and all at the start of Episode VI but he is REALLY REALLY waiting for expansion on the Vader plot.

Luke thinks there's still good in his father. Luke thinks he can SAVE him. Luke sees his father and he BELIEVES in him.

Listen. I believe in Teal'c's right to be a nerd, in general. I also believe that watching Vader say it's too late for him and Luke point-blank refuse to accept that is the MOST INVESTED Teal'c EVER is in experiencing any fictional story, ever.

And

LUKE IS RIGHT

VADER IS SAVED

Vader breaks free!! For his son!! Darth Vader hears his son's cries for help and is able to LISTEN and CHANGE and he is LOVED AND FORGIVEN AND ACCEPTED and he DIES FREE

The Emperor's enslaved right hand is REDEEMED and DIES FREE. That was the story all along

Anyway this is why Teal'c has watched Star Wars nine times. In conclusion.

#stargate sg 1 #you get a long one because this has been Simmering and i'm delighted to have the push needed to unleash it

27 notes · View notes

the-s1lly-corner · 30 days

Text

Fluff alphabet w/ knubbler (remake)

Remaking this because skimming through the old version some of my hcs have changed + I wanna get back into writing for mtl while the rot is here... maybe I'll do some other characters (winks)

No queue we die like men (I'm inpatient and wanna post mtl NOW!!!!(.. quickly realizing why I dont do long posts like this on mobile anymore. Not proof read we die like dethklok fans

Bonus prompt ♡ is PDA

Notes: reader is GN though this is mostly focused on general knubbler hcs

CWs: edit

Attraction

I would say hes a bit shallow but I'm a dickface shipper/j, serious note I think depending on circumstance he can overlook surface level stuff if you're charming enough! I mention in the original post that I think he enjoys feistier folk; outspoken and ready to dish it back if its tossed at them. It keeps things interesting even if it can get frustrating at times. Needs someone with humor, though

Bonding

He tries to make time for you when hes not working, he usually takes you out somewhere. Usually dinner or to the mall- hes bit materialistic and he doesn't mind spoiling you. Music fanatic, listens to everything and looooves listening to some of the stuff you're into, most definitely dissecting it too thanks to his career

Cuddling

Average older person body type, a bit on the cooler side temperature wise. VERY handsy when cuddling most of the time. Prefers to be big spoon but would not object if you turn the tables

Dates

As mentioned he spoils you, so going somewhere nice (and a bit pricy) is a common date experience. Flirting and innuendos aside, dates also double as a catch up thing for you. Again due to him working hard a lot of the time to keep up with his career

Emotion

Hes pretty level headed, though seeing him getting frustrated or annoyed isnt an uncommon occurrence. He has a pretty normal threshold when it comes to bullshit in the day to day- does get a little more emotional if hes under the influence, its just hard to guess which emotion it'll be until hes drunk

Family

Hes not interested in having children, for the most part. Hes had those fleeting "what if" thoughts, but anything more than that? No. That being said I do personally headcanon that he has siblings, who might have children of their own. Rich aunt knubbler supremacy/j

Gift giving

Again, he spoils you. A lot. He can afford it thanks to working with dethklok, and that's assuming hes not also producing for others. Even if hes not giving you something significant, hes sending you roses to remind you you're his

Harsh

He can get short when hes angry but he does try his best to reel himself in and try to find a solution, and depending on the context willing to compromise so both sides are satisfied. Naturally hes easier to work up if hes stressing out. Prefers to go to the side to cool off if things get too intense

Injury

Very similar to the old post, he reacts accordingly based on the nature of your injury. He can be a little insensitive to it, though, but like.. in. a "oh we have different pain thresholds and I kind of forget that" kind of way

Jealousy

Oh this man gets jealousy with a capital J. Want a quick way to get him worked up? Make him jealous. I mean don't becahse that's kind of shitty but. You know. Depending on the context and how the relationship as a whole is going hes either going to toss you to the side or play your game- has the "I didnt lose you you lost me" mentality, kind of gets nasty with it if you really fuck things up

Kiss

Lots of kisses- quick and light, or deep any passionate. Any kiss is a good kiss- tends to favor your mouth of course! Loves being kisses on the cheek

Love language

Guys I don't think I said this yet but he likes buying stuff for you/j

No serious notes, he listens to you. You're someone he can just talk to, no having to worry about your job or your reputation. Just talking. Hes a good listener, actually. Physical touch is another way he shows his love. Not even just sexually; reassuring and innocent hands on the shoulder or a hand steadying you on your back when you're faltering. Things like that

Marriage

Similar to having children hes never really thought about it. He doesnt strike me as the type to settle and commit to something long term, even just having you long term as a non-spouse is a change for him. He might warm up to it one day, he might not

A quick dealbreaker is if you put his career in jeopardy. Hes worked way too hard for this and hes not going to let it get wiped just like that. Not even necessarily getting him fired, just interfering in any negative way can put in a lot of tension

Oddity

Goofy ass laugh. Laughs at his own jokes, most of which being bad or corny. That's not even touching on his sexual innuendos. Horrid. Tomato tomato tomato

Petnames

Naturally he calls you babe and baby. Hon and honey are thrown in there every now and then. Oh he would definitely use dumber names in passing, partly because he unironically thinks they're cute and because he likes seeing your reaction

Quiet time

Well I guess it defeats the purpose of this segment being called "quiet" time but that idea earlier of the two of you just sitting and enjoying music together and analyzing it sounds nice. Outside of that the two of you can sit in silence doing something on your own. Life can get hectic, especially when one or even both of you work for dethklok

Risk

He takes risks, calculated ones though. He thinks about the pros and cons of everything before acting, and if it would be better to do it than do nothing if the outcome doesnt look too good. But that's in the context of himself and his work. But with you? Unless you're dying or in danger he tends to play it safe even if he can still come off as a douche every once in a while

Shh

He has his healthy share of secrets. Nothing wrong with that, privacy is important. If he needs to tell you something that he thinks you should know, he will tell you when its appropriate

Tunes

Maybe its because I'm going insane over these songs, and I hope you can forgive me for not linking them but:

Modern day cane and mx sinister

Both by IDKHBTFM. Less of a "you guys listen to these together/it reminds me of knubbler x reader stuff " but because the songs kind of remind me of him in general/I feel hed listen to these

Upset

He tries to work through things when hes upset, but he does separate himself from the situation if it gets too much- whether it be to keep him from saying or doing something hes really going to regret later or because he just can't deal with it in that moment

He offers to listen to you when you're upset, he tends to be unbiased so he can offer a good solution if that's what you need. He does try to spare your feelings but get ready to sometimes hear what you dont want

Wedding

Valentine

Roses, candies, and a reservation to some fancy place- something higher quality than the usual. Definitely the type to try to initiate intimacy on Valentine's

If it DOES happen, hes going all out. Maybe it's the fact hes rich and famous and he can overindulge a bit, but an expensive wedding is likely. It may not be huge, in terms of attendants though. Just friends and family

Xray

Hes gotten very good at reading people over the years so good luck trying to act normal around him if something is going on. If you seem avoidant about talking, he does try to drop hints that you can talk to him

Yearn

Oh this man yearns, both innocently and not so. He copes well enough between the times you are apart or see each other less

Zzz

Snores in his sleep. Has a long routine. Sleeps like a sickly Victorian person; on his back, head tilted backwards, arms sprawled across his torso. Primarily sleeps on his back, though, maybe you can cuddle into his side

Bonus prompt ♡

Looooves PDA, always holding you in some way. If the setting is professional he will keep his hands to himself. Does not mind showing you off, either

#mtl x you #mtl x reader #metalocalypse x you #metalocalypse x reader #dick knubbler x you #dick knubbler x reader #knubbler x you #knubbler x reader

10 notes · View notes

olliethescribe · 1 year

Text

Rewatching season one of Rottmnt to write a canon compliant fic for Oz - have come away with the headcanon that Hypno has rejection sensitive dysphoria.

Here are all of the notes I’ve taken while watching - most canon and some headcanons supported by canon! I also wrote this at 2 in the morning so bear with me.

There’s a lot so all notes will be under the cut!

Notes: (bonus note: Hypno’s impressed by April figuring out one of his and Warren’s routines and even gives her a pat on the shoulder. He’d be a cool dad, I think)

Warren’s absurdly dramatic, way more than I remembered. He’s also the one that hurls more insults, cares far more about his looks, and has actually kissed himself in the mirror. Needs to be the center of attention - was disheartened and annoyed when the camera panned away from him in Newsworthy, several times. He also has a very interesting manner of speaking (typical New Yorker but definitely the gay theater kid who couldn’t find work as an actor so he became a news anchor - least those are the vibes - probably recites musicals to Hypno and gets super into them), putting a more dramatic flair and bravado to his voice when ‘fighting’ the turtles. Craves power and doesn’t care about who he hurts, doesn’t attempt to avoid pain since he knows he can’t, he’s even hurt Hypno in his debut episode by reflecting his hypnotic powers back at him (this comes back around in WHSIAT).

Just thought of this one now, the apartment we see him living in totally isn’t the one he originally lived in before his mutation. He lost everything, including the ability to access his bank account. He could afford a nicer place, but that money is tied up where he can’t reach.

This next one kinda pissed me off - they purposely block out his eye color from when he was human, leaving artists and writers alike to guess, a detriment to the 12 people actively making content for him /hj

Very pathetic, but realistically is probably very depressed. Keeps reminding himself of his old life and only really makes efforts at being relevant so he’d get back on TV no matter what. Needs attention to feel validated.

If I keep thinking about Warren Stone I will make myself sad. Moving on.

-Hypno is a bit more cockney than I remembered. Rhys really leans into the accent.

-Hypno holds people to their promises, expects that promises will be made good on, makes good on his own (no betrayals).

-He’s also kinda easy to trick which is ironic.

-Hates pain of all kinds and avoids it if he can (we see this after Hypno! Part Deux - in ‘Stuck On You’ he says “don’t come any closer!” “that’s close enough!” as he backed away from the turtles, and “not again” right before getting punched through another wall) tries to do the same for others by avoiding putting them through pain (he mostly runs away or puts people in magic traps / hypnotizes them if he can, the rings and physical fights being a last resort in every occurance other than his debut) (especially avoids inflicting pain if he cares about the person a lot - felt terrible about having to betray and hypnotize Warren so his roomie would be allowed to live - which ended in a second betrayal by Draxum).

-Damn, this man is kinda bad at being evil.

-Hypno likes pet names, and I mean the endearing affectionate partner kind. In WHSIAT, he calls Warren “my Warren '' which is heart meltingly sweet. He also calls him: roomie, best friend, golden voiced amigo, pal, magical assistant, and more!

-(Headcanon based on canon evidence) Hypno’s guarded when it comes to his emotions - specifically in terms of romance. The guy’s been tricked before as seen in Newsworthy, a trick that really hurts. Most likely took him a long time to warm up to the thought of Warren being a romantic partner since he feared rejection.

personal headcanon, both he and Warren have Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria - but Hypno has it worse

-Hypno cares about Doug - his previous hippo assistant - to the point that he’d raise him from the dead. (Oh look, a normal note)

-These are all just about Hypno now, with some headcanons supported by canon in there too-

dramatic in the flashy and showy performance way, seems less over the top than Warren

not above necromancy, then again, before Warren it seems like Doug was his only friend so that could be why

Would most likely come to blows with anyone that dyes animals different colors for events. He loves his pets/magical assistants and to see someone so flagrantly disregard the life of an animal for entertainment would piss him off.

hopeless romantic, and not just ‘cause of the hormones used in Newsworthy - (the whole ‘they pulled the fake Jenny on me’ line seals the deal - he’s most likely been set up on blind dates that have gone nowhere/ editing to add catfished and straight up made fun of. This is one lonely man and that’s terrible)

This next one’s strangely canon and weird - interesting doubled voice effect when he hypnotizes people but it only shows up twice (Newsworthy and Stuck On You), like the writing team wasn’t sure about it

Warren is his first major relationship and he fell super hard. It’s very obvious - this man is ultra protective of his worm roommate and would go through hell for him. He has gone through hell for him (not in the Orpheus way but he would do that too). Can’t stand being without him, super affectionate, the pet names and little comments, searching for Warren the second they get him back and giving him smooches, how he feels awful for being a bad roomie and knows that Warren notices his lack of effort around the house but doesn’t say anything, and the sweet gesture of baking Warren a birthday cake and jumping out of it to be extra dazzling proves that he’s investing a lot into this relationship. Even April points out how in love Hypno is with Warren by the end of the episode, saying that Warren’s life matters more to some people (looking directly at Hypno as he looks lovingly at his ‘roommate’ - hahaha it’s fruit city up in here) than some piece of armor.

#headcanon #taking notes #i need to write this man’s accent as ever so slightly thicker - wonderful #warren stone #hypno potamus #hypnowarren #rottmnt #There’s gonna be more notes taken at a time where I am not eepy #love these idiots - they’re so disgustingly co-dependent - it’s beautiful

16 notes · View notes

therenlover · 3 years

Text

Therenlover’s Official Fanfic Glossary!

Hey hey hey! This is the place where you can find all my up-to-date fanfics linked nicely, read about what projects I have upcoming, and learn what requests I’m taking at the moment! Cheers!

This post is massive so, for the sake of your dash, everything is under the cut

A NOTE ABOUT REQUESTS!

I will do my best to fulfill any requests I get while my ask box/requests are open! That being said, I cannot promise every request will get done, and that if they do, they’ll be done in a timely manner. I’m currently working on a long-form project that needs a lot of time and energy to come out consistently, so unless I’m doing a writing event most of my writing juice will be focused on that. That being said, if you want something ask! The worst I can possibly do is direct you towards someone else who might be able to write what you want if I cant.

If I choose not to do your request based on personal preference (it makes me uncomfy/I don’t write for the character at that time/I don’t feel I can write what you want/etc.) I will do my best to contact you and let you know! That being said, if you think your ask got buried/forgotten, feel free to message me again and let me know, but please tell me when you message me if I should be looking for a prior request.

Characters/Fandoms I will write for currently

💙 = I’m Currently Super Inspired To Write For This Character

Marvel/X-Men

Bucky Barnes

Loki

Peter Maximoff 💙

Pietro Maximoff

Helmut Zemo 💙

Hank McCoy

Ralph Bohner 💙

Vision

American Horror Story

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker 💙

Kyle Spencer (Pre- and Post- Death)

Jimmy Darling 💙

James Patrick March 💙

Kai Anderson

Fallout 4

Nick Valentine

Hancock

Star Wars

Poe Dameron

Armitage Hux 💙

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Finn

Han Solo

Assorted/Random

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne - FGO

Cu Chulainn/Cu Alter - FGO

Warren Lipka - American Animals 💙

Enjolras - Les Miserables

Grantaire - Les Miserables

Gabriel - Supernatural

Imagines - REQUESTS CLOSED

Songs From Musicals Y/N Would Sing To The Evans

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Headcanons - REQUESTS CLOSED

Modern! AU Armitage Hux Boyfriend Headcanons

Zemo With A Well Dress S/O Headcanons

Zemo Getting Jealous Headcanons

Oneshots - REQUESTS CLOSED

Marvel/X-Men

Helmut Zemo

One Last Night In Madripoor

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4200~

Still Some Catching Up To Do

Synopsis: As a member of the criminal underworld, people walk out of your life all the time. Some are killed, others kill themselves, most get caught and only a couple get out of the life unscathed, disappearing into the world never to be seen again. Very few walk back in. So when your supposedly incarcerated ex-lover, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon waltzed through your door and made you murder your boss, needless to say, you were surprised and more than a little bit pissed.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 6800~

Nine Years Starved

Synopsis: It had been a little over nine years since Helmut Zemo lost his family, his country, and his sanity. Nine years since his last kiss. Nine years since he felt like a human man. Finally, he was ready to start over again, but first, he had to pay his penance back where it all began; Novi Grad. That’s when, by the grace of the fates, he met you.

Rating: G

Word Count: 7000~

Daddy Dearest

Synopsis: Not everyone gets lucky enough to go from being a broke college student in New York to being the sugar baby to literal royalty, but not everyone is you. Most people would be worried about messing things up or losing him to someone else, but you knew he would never find another baby just like you. Besides, you knew exactly what to do to keep him wrapped around your little finger. He may have been the daddy, but you pulled the reins.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 8000~

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Synopsis:��As a wanted man, Helmut Zemo spends most of his time jumping from place to place in the hopes of avoiding a trip back to prison. Unfortunately, that means he can’t always be home in your arms. When he is, though, in the rare moments of calm, you’re reminded of just how worth it it’s been to wait, even if that wait was only shortened by the arrival of your enemies.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 35,700~

Two Bodies In The Rain

Synopsis: It was raining the day you finally had to admit your feelings to Helmut. You hated to tell him the way you did, under the grey skies as your blood pooled below you, but at least you knew, in the end, he had seen the real you, even just once. That was enough.

Rating: T

Word Count: 5600~

Rest

Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3200~

American Horror Story

Jimmy Darling

Red Nights In Jupiter

Synopsis: At the end of another long day, you fall into bed with Jimmy Darling. The men you served throughout the day don’t matter then, nor do the coins in the mason jar by the door, or the women scheduled to attend Jimmy’s next Tupperware party. No, in that quiet darkness it’s just you and the man you love, bone-tired and happy to be home. Who could ask for more?

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3000~

James Patrick March

Heartsick

Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3700~

In Sickness And In Health

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5500~

Fallout 4

Currently Empty

Star Wars

Currently Empty

Assorted/Random

Currently Empty

Long Form Works/Series

Young Artist!Zemo AU

Chapter One: The Boy With The Easel

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Rating: T

Word Count: 7000~

Till Forever Falls Apart (A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Chapter One: Welcome Home

Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2400~

Chapter Two: The Doctor Is In

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Rating: T

Word Count: 2800~

Chapter Three: It’s Always Been You

Synopsis: After a month of adapting to his new universe, Peter Maximoff can confidently say that he likes his new life more than his old one. Sure, he misses home sometimes, but he’s been far too busy flirting with his new roommate to spend time crying over the things he’s lost. Everything is smooth sailing until a strange journal in his roommate’s study leaves him with more questions than he knows what to do with. Now he’s on a mission to discover who he’s really living with before she has the chance to turn against him.

Rating: T

Word Count: 8600~

Chapter Four: Before You Go

Synopsis: Peter, after days of contemplation, has realized that part of him loves Y/N no matter what she is or what she’s been through. Unfortunately, he can’t find her anywhere. When she finally returns home with the intention of leaving again, Peter realizes it’s his last chance to tell her how he really feels. Will he succeed, or will he fail to be fast enough once again?

Rating: T

Word Count: 4000~

Chapter Four And A Half: Gimme Swayze

Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.

Rating: T

Word Count; 2600~

Cakes For The Evans: A Blogging And Baking Adventure!

Kai Anderson’s Disaster Cake

Hey you! If you’ve made it this far down the list, thanks for supporting me as an author! I’ll be linking my AO3 here. I post everything there shortly before I post it here, and there are some older fics there you might enjoy along the way! It’s also easier to drop comments over there and I keep them open for non-members, so give me a shout if you liked what I wrote!

I love you all, you make me so happy, and without you support I would never be motivated to write! Cheers!

485 notes · View notes

mittensmorgul · 3 years

Text

For anyone interested in long-term residence in the supernatural fandom, please have some observations I’ve made over the decade I’ve been here. Take it or leave it as you will, but I’ve found all of this info useful over the years I’ve been here.

I wrote this yesterday, and it achieved its mission of identifying the sort of folks who would react negatively to it (i.e. a lot of block lists have been updated), so now that it’s been edited for content, it’s going under a cut (because that is how we do things on tumblr in general, unless we have a deliberate purpose for annoying readers with excessively long text posts) for the sake of people who actually do care about the fandom and its history. If that’s not you or your reason for being here, then keep on keeping on with your own thing, I guess. For those who are interested, there’s a lot of fandom resources some of us have been building for years that you might enjoy knowing about.

First off, I’ve been informed by a few friends who’ve read through this for coherency’s sake that it sort of reads like a *shakes cane from porch* fandom grandma complaint, but honestly... I earned this rocking chair and goshdangit imma rock now. So apologies for any “back in my day” vibes or faint aroma of tiger balm this post might give off. Then again, it’s loosely based on a similar post from 2012 so like... time is a flat circle anyway I guess.

1. There is no such thing as “tumblr famous,” unless you’re referring to the hilarious and delightful fic of the same name (please go read it, you will cackle). Posting Hot Takes for imaginary Clout™ on this site is kind of pointless in the long run. Sure you can post solely for the sake of stirring shit and getting notes, but the majority of the folks who do aren’t long term residents of the fandom. They’re just tourists moving through our little beach town for spring break. If you’re actually intent on moving to this corner of the fandom for an extended stay, please bother to really feel out the permanent residents and understand the culture and general mood of the neighborhood. It bears no resemblance to whatever’s going on across town where all the bars and beach parities are happening, and those loud, drunken revelers are, again, gonna disappear back to their regular lives or on to the next party eventually. That doesn’t mean the fandom is dying, it’s just evolving.

(funny how I had several comments implying that I’m just trying to keep the fandom from evolving with this post, because I sincerely do want the fandom to continue on for years to come, and that is impossible without evolution. We can evolve without self-immolating, though. mostly i included point 1 for an excuse to push ancient but hilarious fanfic on you.)

2. Once you post something here, it’s been unleashed to the fandom winds. You never know where it will end up, or who will comment on it or add to it. Remember that time Misha tweeted the link to the Epic Cockles Love Story post? No? It was wild. That was 2012. They all know we’re here, and how to find us if they want to. Please don’t take it to their doorsteps.

Obviously if someone is being a dick on your posts, please feel free to block them, but the whole entire point of this site is to engage people with your posts. Being big mad that someone reblogged your post with comments or supporting evidence, or happy headcanons or “HECK THIS IS GREAT BECAUSE (insert personal story about their experience or whatever else made them Feel Things about your post)” is frankly ridiculous. If your goal is to avoid any sort of engagement with your posts, then maybe try instagram instead. From what I understand, there is a SPN fandom presence there, and nobody can tarnish your original posts with unwanted commentary. But the ability to reblog with additional commentary is a FEATURE of tumblr that builds community through conversation. Otherwise we’re all just talking to ourselves in a vacuum, and that’s what actually kills fandoms.

(and for the folks who just want to blog how they want to blog and don’t want people to engage on their posts at all, please feel free to block anyone you want, as well... nobody wants to step on your toes, but most of us also don’t want to walk on eggshells wondering if this post is one of the “do not add comments for any reason” sorts of posts, either. This is a huge fandom and most people can’t even begin to keep track of every creator and their url du jour, and what their personal rules might be regarding interaction with their content. Including a “please don’t add comments” note at the bottom of your posts-- and not in your tags that won’t even show up on reblogs, but in the actual body of the post-- would sincerely help avoid any awkward or unwanted interactions, too. At the end of the day, you are in control of your own fandom experience and the block button exists.

For the record, I block zero fandom blogs (which is why I posted this, I wanted it to reach a wide scope... refer to the opening paragraphs as to why).

3. Since this post was partly inspired by a tag I left on that post going around about how “previous tags” mean fuckall on this site (which you can read here), just a reminder that if you like someone’s tags or feel they add value to the post, part of the Peer Review structure of tumblr encourages you to PASTE THEM INTO A REBLOG. If you do this, then at least credit the person who actually wrote the tags! Don’t just copy someone else’s tags into your tags on your reblog of the post without credit either. They were not YOUR tags. (I have had this happen to tag rambles I wrote and someone else got credited with them on a subsequent reblog and it is FRUSTRATING). Just... don’t even bother to write “previous tags” because WHAT PREVIOUS TAGS?! Nobody is gonna bother to chase back the chain of reblogs trying to find where the mystery tags came from, friendos. That way lies madness.

(for the record, since some folks seemed to focus on this point solely, writing “previous tags” on a post isn’t inherently a BAD thing, but for anyone who actually is here for more than one-off shitposting, then it’s sort of a pointless thing in the long run. This wasn’t intended to suggest people who ARE here for one-off shitposting are bad or “doing it wrong,” but for people who might actually want to preserve that hilarious joke or insightful comment. People delete posts and entire blogs all the time around here. Links break. I get that the upcoming generation just shrugs at that and moves on with their lives, but heck... you don’t have to accept that all entertainment is disposable if you don’t want to. There’s a bizarre sort of nihilism plaguing us all about the impermanence of pretty much everything that feels like something we should be fighting against rather than buying into wholesale, even in our escapist entertainment. I’m just exhausted by the complete loss of joy in community.

*shouts from the peanut gallery* IT AIN’T THAT DEEP, JUST GET SOME FRESH AIR AND LOOK AT A PUPPY OR SOMETHING

Yes... yes it isn’t really that deep, but bigger picture in the state of reality we’re all entirely disillusioned with, are we supposed to just give up on everything, including the things we cling to because they bring us a tiny spark of hope that we’re not all just trapped in this dystopian nightmare and things might actually be worth living for?

*peanut gallery clinging to burnt husks of peanuts in a barren peanut field* but this is how we have chosen to cope

Okay... you do you... I feel bad for you but if that’s the case then this post is NOT FOR YOU. AND THAT’S FINE. I honestly do not care if you don’t care! I mean, I’m sorry anyone has to live in a world that drives them to that mindset, but I understand. This post is for anyone who might look at their lives and their choices and think “no wait, I unironically enjoy this and want more from the experience of that enjoyment than I’m currently feeling.” Everyone else can continue with their lives as usual.)

4. CONTENT THEFT IS NEVER OKAY. PERIOD. Things like “credit to the artist” or tagging gifs or images you found on pinterest as “not mine” isn’t actually credit. If you can’t source an image or gif set, DO NOT POST IT! We don’t REPOST (i.e. save an image and then create a new post with it as if it was our own creation). We REBLOG (click the little square arrows and reblog from the actual creator). That goes for gif sets, fanvids, screencaps, meta, fic... everything.

(hopefully everyone here already understands this one, but I felt compelled to include some “these are stupidly obvious” reminders anyway, since this is ostensibly some sort of advice column. This is the equivalent of the warning label on your toaster reminding you not to use it in the bath. Like... duh...)

5. Close kin of item 4 is SOURCE YOUR SHIT.

(for 100% disclosure purposes, I specifically discussed this one in this specific way because of an influx of anon ask messages I received in the wake of the finale. Literally the inciting incident for creating this entire post was what I can only assume was a joking ask about a comment Misha made at a con years ago. Someone actually bothered to take the time to type out those sentences to me. I have no idea what they were expecting in reply, or what could possibly motivate them to send this comment about something so entirely random from, again, several years ago. Just a joke? No idea, but whatever... it got me thinking that there might actually be people who are new to the fandom who MIGHT actually care about the fandom history, and maybe they just don’t know where to go for that info, or how to even begin searching through 16 years of history for things they might actually find enjoyment in, rather than just hauling random out of context garbage out on main and pointing and laughing about it now. People are actually allowed to care about things. It’s not cringeworthy to actually care about things, and you are not alone in actually caring, and there’s this whole big room over here full of people who are thrilled to share in that with you. This post is intended FOR THOSE PEOPLE SPECIFICALLY, so if that is not you, please just continue walking by.)

Yes, I know lots of y’all are new around here right now, but dredging up stuff from years ago that fandom has completely debunked and presenting it as TRU FAX again is just exhausting. We’re not trying to be party poopers, but seriously, we have seen it all and are mostly done with extinguishing bags of flaming dog poop on our front porches for the umpteenth year in a row. I’ve seen a lot of posts that have the same tone as “I saw Goody Proctor dancing with the devil” or “I heard kylo ren has an eight pack” and just... the information is there for anyone who cares enough to find it.

This goes double for “why is nobody talking about this thing I just discovered while watching the show for the first time?!” And, oh hon, we have talked it all into the ground over the last fifteen years. We’re happy you’re discovering it again, but I promise we talked about it plenty when the episodes originally aired. We have such a rich meta history that lots of us have worked really hard to preserve. I encourage you to seek it out, if nothing else than as historical artifacts. The way we have discussed the show has been a 16-year evolution. People have written literal doctoral dissertations on this show. Your shitposts are fun! We love reliving our own experience through fresh eyes, and seeing your wonder at experiencing it all again for the first time! But y’all didn’t invent this fandom in the last six months, either.

Meta Sources and Minerals provided by our friendly neighborhood fandom archivist, @lets-steal-an-archive

Academic books and articles about SPN

A collection of Meta Essays going back to s1 and organized by topic (all of this has happened before, all of it will happen again)

SPN Heavy Meta Archive (s1-3)

Mel’s Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-12)

Oranges8hands Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-15, with many similar entries to Mel’s... though ymmv on viewpoint in a lot of these too)

Anyone remember Fandom Wank? Not the concept but the actual LJ... No? Okay have a link to SPN topics that ended up there. Through 2013. We have seen so much... including several fandom containment breaches.

for all your art sourcing needs, please see @theroadsofararchive, the repository for so much fandom art.

need to find a gif of something? canonspngifs is a vast repository of gifsets of the entire series. If the gif you want to use in your post happens to be the first gif in the gifset, in the tumblr gif finder thingy just paste the permalink to that post from canonspngifs (which is easily searchable by episode, character, location, situation, quotes, and sometimes even color and clothing items the actors are wearing... it’s really well organized, especially for tumblr >.>) and the first gif will be automatically linked with credit to the gif creator attached. It makes life easy that way. It’s also convenient when trying to remember something specific but can’t remember what episode it’s from. I’ve used the site to jog my memory before going to the superwiki armed with more specific search results to find episode quotes and references. Or sometimes I just scroll through all the nice gifs for fun, too.

Need a screencap of something and know exactly which episode it’s from? Try Home of the Nutty. You might not find the exact screencap you’re looking for, but they have a complete set of caps of every episode, and it’s an incredibly useful resource for quick reference checks and the like. Just give pages a chance to fully load before clicking on the next one. The site is easily overloaded, but it’s still free to use (and again, with credit... Pretty much every screencap on my entire blog is from HotN unless otherwise credited).

As you can see, this is a fandom built on preserving our history. You absolutely are not required to engage with any of this if that’s not of interest to you, but I can only assume that there are people who would be interested in it if only they knew it existed and how to find it. Well, now they do.

6. A few more notes on tags, and how they work on tumblr. The first 20 tags on your ORIGINAL posts are searchable sitewide, so if you want to be able to find something again, tag that thing first before going on general tag rambles. The only place tags on reblogs are searchable is on your own blog. So you don’t have to put 50 tags trying to get a post seen if it’s a reblog. You’re just spitting into the wind at that point. If you have a filing system for finding things again, then by all means add those tags (again, in the first 20, so they’re searchable), but you don’t need to tag a reblog “destiel” and “deancas” and “dean” and “cas” and “dean x cas” or whatever. Pick one for your personal blog’s filing system, that’s all you need.

(this was only added because tagging and searching on this site is so very broken... I get that a lot of folks don’t care about ever searching their own blogs again for anything, so this one only really applies if you do often find yourself trying to find old posts. If not, then it’s not really relevant. It took me years to work out a decent tagging system, and at the beginning of my time here I never thought I’d end up camping out here for a decade and falling this deep into the fandom, and I regretted my lack of consistent tags only years later when I realized I actually wanted to be able to go back and find specific old posts again. So... for anyone who wants to err on the side of caution, working out a sensible tagging system really helps if you’re here for the long term. I personally tag content by episode, because some of my other general tags are so large as to be practically useless as a search term. But whatever system you choose to file stuff on your own blog, it really only has to make sense to you. And again, if this is pointless advice for someone who has no intention of settling here for the long term. Please feel free to ignore it. I just wish someone had explained it this way to me ten years ago and saved me the hassle of retroactively tagging something like 30k posts... especially now that using the mass tag replacer is the fastest way to get your entire blog deleted... oops? so yeah, don’t use the mass tag replacer either >.>)

7. Tags on Tumblr DO NOT WORK LIKE TAGS ON TWITTER. If you @ someone in the body of the post, it will show up in their notifications (if they’re the sort of person who even checks their notifications... not all of us do. For the record, I generally don’t...), but putting actor or ship names in the tags on a tumblr post does absolutely nothing. It’s not the same as tagging the actor’s twitter account in a tweet. Nobody’s getting notifications about you tagging a post about Jensen here as “Jensen Ackles.” There is a difference. Please learn it. (and don’t take headcanons and ESPECIALLY RPF or otherwise explicit art or fic from tumblr to twitter and tag the actors in it. That’s just... not okay.)

(I have seen the pearl clutchers getting all in a huff about the mere existence of RPF or even explicit content of fictional characters if it doesn’t meet their purity standards, but tagging those things allows people who don’t want to see it to actively avoid that content here. Nobody has a right to tell people their fictional content shouldn’t exist at all, or that creators of that fictional content somehow deserve harassment or threats for having dared to create such “immoral” content, won’t somebody PLEASE think of the children... and no... you do not do that here. Don’t be the problematic behavior you wish to ban from the world. Learn to use tags to protect yourself from, as i have attempted to emphasize here, fictional content you are personally upset by. That’s a you problem, not a problem for the creators of potentially upsetting content that they tag appropriately for.)

8. General formatting stuff: If you’re writing long text posts, visually break them up so people aren’t faced with one long wall of text. The enter key is your friend. Also, if you put long text posts under a Read More break and send people to your blog to finish reading, please ensure that your blog is actually visually accessible (tiny text, or light grey text on a dark grey background, or a visually busy background might be aesthetically pleasing to you but nobody can actually read it. Loads of folks won’t even try. Which is great if you don’t actually care whether people are able to appreciate your content or not, but something to at least consider if you *do* actively want to encourage engagement with your work. Confirm how your blog looks on both mobile and desktop and make sure it’s actually functional in both, too).

And since I mentioned that most of my experience on fandom tumblr has been in the SPN fandom, here’s a bit of a reminder for folks who are new around here. With the reminder that I have been here more than a decade and still feel like a newbie myself sometimes...

This is an OLD FANDOM. There are many, many people who have been at this longer than some of you have been alive. The average age for creators in this fandom is older than you think (I think of my friends in their 30′s as young’ins okay? okay). With that understood, you are responsible for the content you consume and are exposed to. Curate your experience. Ship and let ship. YKINMKATOK. Don’t deliberately expose yourself to content you find upsetting for whatever reason. Tags and warnings are your friends, not targets for you to attack in some sort of purity war. People will ship things you do not like (or in specific ways you do not like), will say things you do not agree with, and will find their happiness in things you abhor. That is not your concern. Find what you do like, and support and engage with it, and ignore (or block, or unfollow) the rest. Tumblr has a feature that lets you blacklist tags so the content you’re trying to avoid won’t appear on your dash.

Remember the paradox of tolerance.

It is not your job in fandom to police how other people enjoy the fandom. It’s not *my* job to police how *you* enjoy the fandom, UNLESS your enjoyment is in actively harming other real human beings in the fandom. If you don’t like their take on the character or the show or the plotlines or their ships or anything else, you don’t need to engage with their posts at all! The necessary corollary to this is that clarifying misunderstandings or correcting factual misinformation is not “policing.”

(this is where the peanut gallery reminds me it ain’t that deep, and I plead with them to put down the social media and find just one (1) thing to actually believe in in this godforsaken life, find something other than disdain and cynicism and spite to live for. If those things motivate you to find a larger cause for yourself, then great, use them to your advantage, but use them to find something that makes you a better person or brings you a modicum of joy and connection to your fellow human beings despite living in a dystopian hellscape of a world)

I have seen a lot of posts lately that are founded on the sort of authority that comes with “I watched through tumblr for a few months and then watched the last three episodes of the series” and as such are just... missing the larger context of the entire show, and are unfounded entirely in canon. I 100% appreciate the new enthusiasm for the fandom that we’ve been living in here for years, and it’s wonderful to see new people enjoying the thing we love. Your headcanons are valid, you are valid, but recognize that your headcanons aren’t canon. All of us finale denialists have accepted this in some measure, so we feel you. We truly, truly feel you. But regarding actual canon, we have a resource for that: the Superwiki. Learn it, live it, love it, as Metatron would say.

(which you could discover he said in 10.17 Inside Man, thanks to the superwiki! accept no substitutes!)

(and again, there have been people who have been involved in fandom for years who haven’t engaged with canon in years, either! You can play in this universe however you choose, BUT FOR PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT CANON AT ALL, WHICH I AM AGAIN POINTEDLY SAYING MIGHT NOT BE YOU, READER, AND I’M NOT SUGGESTING YOU ARE WRONG FOR NOT WANTING TO ACTUALLY ENGAGE WITH CANON, but if you DO want to engage with canon, please have some useful resources. Why do people feel personally attacked by being presented a list of helpful resources? Absolutely baffling.)

(also: words have definitions. “Canon” is a specific thing, meaning in this case “the finished media product that aired on television.” Anything beyond those limits is secondary canon (think: john’s journal, which is not canon but canon adjacent at best...), word of god (i.e stuff said by the writers and showrunners), or headcanon (which includes actor commentary-- they may have helped create the show with their acting choices and whatever, but they are not in control of the story overall). If there’s something you dislike about actual canon, you can reject it and supplement it with your own theories or preferred outcomes-- that’s basically what fanfic is-- but that doesn’t make your theories canon (much to all our dismay, that’s just not how any of this works. This is not to invalidate how anyone engages with the show or the fandom, just trying to clarify what seems to have been a source of unintentional misunderstandings. Your theories do not have to be “canon” to be legitimate interpretations.)

***I am setting this section apart, and did make a separate post of just this following information, because this is where we go from being relatively chill about different parts of fandom choosing to interact in different ways and you do you and blog however you want, to “hey can everybody please understand that the way you are interacting with this specific material might be harmful for specific legal reasons, and stating that you do not care about the consequences of your actions does actively make you the asshole here...” Okay, now that we have that understood:

The spnscripthunt collective has been steadily acquiring new scripts (which are posted in full on the superwiki for everyone to enjoy, for free). The language around how some folks are talking about these scripts is... concerning. For very real legal reasons, actually, and not because we’re feeling precious about the collection and don’t wike it when meanies use them in shitposts.

-First off, these scripts are not “leaks.” They are all verified and legally purchased (or gifted, in some cases, but still acquired entirely above board. we didn’t whack anyone over the head in a back alley for these scripts, or swipe them out of someone’s trailer on set).

(in case anyone was unaware, these scripts are the copywritten protected property of Warner Brothers. So yes, how we use them and share them with the fandom could have legal repercussions. We present them as a collected resource of fandom history which SHOULD fall under Fair Use doctrine, but this is untested legal water. Insinuating that the scripts are somehow not entirely legally obtained, or that posting them for public access involved less than 100% transparent and entirely legal transactions is incredibly concerning.

Once again for the peanut gallery, if you don’t care about any of that and are just having a good time with it, at least be mindful of the work and expense a large group of people have gone through to acquire and present the content you’re all too eager to exploit for cheap thrills. Some of us do actually care and are not exactly comfortable with the fact that others don’t seem to care about burning it all to the ground. We can’t force you to listen or behave as we’d hope you might, but at least be aware of the potential consequences of your actions. All we’re asking is for you to not be the douchebag who sets the whole neighborhood on fire with your illegal fireworks display. Is that too much to ask for? more on that in a second, first... a psa)

-If you see a script for sale and are unsure if it’s legit (or believe it might already be freely available in our collection), please feel free to ask us for advice. Our goal is to make as much of our fandom history available to the entire fandom, and we absolutely do not want anyone shelling out money for stuff you can already find for free.

(seriously, we’ve seen a bunch of resellers cropping up selling printed versions of the scripts we bought and uploaded for everyone to enjoy free of charge, or scripts that are otherwise of dubious origin. We’ve been at this for years now and know what’s actually out there. We don’t want anyone to fall for a scam if we can help it)

-Also, the usual reminder that the scripts we acquire ARE NOT NECESSARILY THE FINAL SHOOTING DRAFTS. In fact, the majority of scripts in our collection are NOT. Changes are made daily to scripts, even during filming. Comparing a Production Draft (white pages, effectively the first “final draft” of what usually becomes a series of drafts before filming wraps) to a much later revision (say... green or goldenrod revisions, several of which we DO have in our collection for comparison) and how those earlier drafts often differ wildly from the aired version versus how similar a much later green draft is to the aired version, for example, can teach you a lot about the television writing process. The link above to the superwiki scripts page has a nice little explainer about how this process works.

Differences between our posted scripts (many of which are white drafts, aka FIRST complete drafts, which will likely go through multiple rounds of revisions before filming even begins) and the aired version of the show are not all “acting choices” or a director or editor just cutting whole scenes on a whim. It’s insulting to everyone involved in production to suggest that’s the case.

(and yeah, fine... whatever, make any sort of posts you like regarding how those changes came about, but at the very least understand that it’s not actually the truth about how any of this works. Don’t care that that’s not the truth and want to make the posts anyway because shitposting is fun and that’s the extent of your sense of humor? FINE! You’re entitled to do that! But at least you DO know the truth now, and hopefully so do the people who engage with your posts. Deliberate ignorance isn’t cute, smooth lions notwithstanding)

There’s probably a whole other post to be made on fandom tagging etiquette, but again I don’t really use the tags enough to know what’s going on with that whole situation. I’ve also probably left a lot of stuff out, so please feel free to add things I’ve overlooked.

Thanks also to @trisscar368 and @thayerkerbasy for help compiling this, too. They were kind enough to escort me through the park to feed these pigeons. Now I need to take them out for ice cream. :’D

So I guess welcome to the neighborhood. Make yourself at home, but like... try not to trash the place while you’re here. Some of us live here by choice, lol.

#this blue hellsite (affectionate)#fandom problems #kinda wish i'd made this post six months ago but here we are i guess lol #long post #now edited for the people who are actually personally invested in the fandom #thanks for participating in this little experiment and I hope this version is actually informative to those who are interested #meaning there's a lot more links to stuff and explainers and whatnot...#and one last reminder that for folks just swinging through for laughs absolutely none of this applies to you #if you are legit interested in fandom history and preservation as we move to the post-canon world then hopefully this is useful to you

381 notes · View notes

aggressive-positivity-network · 3 years

Note

Tf2 headcanons? Aw yeah! So let's say a new merc joins the team. They're a total asshole: Cocky, sarcastic, overconfident, refuse help. But both Spy and Scout see right through that, it's a defense mechanism. How do they go about making this person comfortable enough to not be an asshole?

*chanting* HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMF

Okay, jokes aside, this is one of my favorite tropes. Maybe I’m too naïve to believe that some people are just mean to be mean, or maybe it’s a sort of comfort to know that even the worst people can be understood, but either way, WOOOOOOOOO!

*****************

An Ass For An Ass

Headcanons

Scout:

To be honest, Scout’s threshold for asshole-ery is pretty high. Growing up with eight brothers will do that to you.

But when the new recruit came around, something immediately rubbed him the wrong way.

Recruit always stole his thunder with the crass jokes and over-the-top displays. Every battle turned into a competition, which messed with Scout’s system of fighting. He never had to focus much on his own team before, and now he had to worry about keeping his own reputation upheld while trying not to get stabbed, shot, or blown up.

Recruit also kept hitting on Miss Pauling - even after reminding them again and again that she was lesbian, and was not and never will be into dudes.

“Come on…you just haven’t been with a real man yet…”

“No, no, I’ve been with a lot of men. Real men. I just wasn’t into any of them. After a while, it was kind of obvious.”

But what really pissed a lot of people off was Recruit’s fighting style.

They were an absolute monster on the field - that’s why they were chosen - but every interaction was treated as some sort of survival scenario.

One would think that would be a good thing, but Recruit was ridiculous.

No matter what the situation was, he was fine, he was okay, he could take it, he could fix it.

He could be killed only inches away from a Medic because he would never yell for one. Sometimes Recruit would even show visible anger at being healed. It got to the point where Medic didn’t heal him at all, and just allowed him to die as to not waste time he could give too more grateful patients.

Missions were even worse.

He followed orders to a T, but Pauling had to beg him to leave a failed mission, or to leave without completely destroying the site.

Everyone just took it as Recruit showing off, or having something to prove as a rookie.

It was annoying, but ultimately harmless in most circumstances.

However, it all came to a head when Recruit tried disengage a sentry by himself and was severely injured.

Both Engineer and Medic, who had had to fix most of Recruit’s past and current recklessness, ripped him a new one, one chewing out after the other.

“What we’re you thinkin’, son?! One crossed wire and you woulda blown the whole base!”

“Zhe only reason you are allowed in my lab at all is because it’s in my contract. Personally, I vould have rather left nature to it…”

Since then, Recruit did exactly as he was told, and nothing else. And most of the team liked it that way.

But Scout recognized some warning signs immediately. Fatigue, near silence except for missions, self-isolation, snapping when people got too close…it all paved the way for a pretty nasty (and, for Scout, very familiar) result.

One night, Recruit was sitting on the balcony, and Scout came out with two bottles - a beer for Recruit and a root beer for himself.

(Scout can only drink on the weekends because one, unlike most, he can’t go to work hung over because his job requires a lot of movement, and two, he has no restraint and can’t stop once he starts.)

“What do you want?”

Scout shrugged. “Depends.”

“On what?!”

“What are ya willin’ to tell me?”

Recruit just looked at the beer and sneered.

“Can’t we just skip this?” Scout said. “Maybe get to the part where you tell me what kinda Sally Sob Story we’re dealin’ with here?”

Recruit looked away.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t tell me you don’t got one. ‘Cause you do. I can see it a mile away. So what happened? Pop leave? Somebody died? Lotta brothers and sisters? Ma had a few too many and smacked ya around?”

Recruit didn’t turn around, but Scout could tell he was crying. He had hit a sore spot. Hard.

“Hey, pal, listen…”

Scout trailed off, then slowly began again.

“…the only reason I know is ‘cause I’ve been through it, ‘kay? Outta everybody I knew, I only trusted me. And that was great when I did a good job, ‘cause I knew I put me there.”

Scout opened his bottle of root beer and took a long swig.

“But when I screwed somethin’ up, it’s like everybody I ever knew just let me down. The one thing I could count on was gone.”

Recruit looked at Scout with tears in his eyes.

“But ya can’t do everything by yourself,” Scout continued. “Believe me. I learned that the hard way.”

Scout laughed, but it was mostly to clear the air. He didn’t get serious very often.

Recruit hadn’t touched his beer, but was leaned over the balcony with his head in his hands.

Scout sighed and looked up at the stars.

“But here’s somethin’ that nobody told me - it gets easier, y’know that? You just gotta relax and cut yourself some slack.”

Recruit shifted uncomfortably. “But the Administrator said…”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I know what she said. Gave ya that whole speech about how bein’ part of the team means discipline and focus and whatever. It’s all bull crap. She don’t know the first thing about bein’ on the field. If she did, why’d she hire us?”

“Sh-she said my perseverance was an asset to the team.”

“Perseverance, my ass. You know what would be an asset to the team? Stayin’ alive for more than fifteen minutes!”

Recruit looked at his feet. He had blinked away his tears, but he still looked on the verge of falling apart.

Scout put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a little.

“You’re a great fighter, Recruit. You’re one of the best…that’s why you’re here. You got nothin’ to prove to nobody. Not to me, not to the team, not to the Administrator…not even to yourself. You’ve made it, kid. You’ve made it.”

Scout slid his hand off Recruit and started to walk away.

“Hey.”

Scout turned to see Recruit in the process of opening his beer.

“Thanks.”

Scout smiled. “No problem, pal. Plenty more under Demo’s mattress.”

“No, I mean…for that. I needed that tonight.”

“Oh…yeah! Sure. Don’t worry about it.”

Scout went back inside and to his room - but not before checking the cameras on the balcony a few times. Just in case.

Over the next few months, Scout kept helping Recruit break some old bad habits.

Recruit learned to take criticism without getting angry, to leave tanked missions, and to take care of himself.

He still occasionally flirted with Miss Pauling, but it was now more of an inside joke than anything.

Recruit still isn’t perfect - he still cringes a little when he’s healed, and falls back into survival mode when times are stressful - but he is now a much happier, much healthier person.

Spy:

Spy’s asshole wasn’t a merc, per se.

They were more of an informant, usually giving out important facts about locations, missions, and a target’s history.

Sometimes they would even use the Administrator’s PA system to announce new rules and reminders.

This would be perfectly fine - after all, you get kind of tired of hearing the Administrator all the time - except for the fact that Informant was the most sarcastic, most nasally, most apathetic, most matter-of-fact person on earth.

Even outside of a work setting, which was rare because they stayed in their office most of the time, Informant would go out of their way to be as condescending as possible.

Especially to whoever they considered to be in the “less intelligent” category: Heavy, Pyro, Scout, Demo, and Soldier.

To all the “others,” he turned every briefing into a contest to see who knew more at any given time…which, of course, usually meant he won.

“Now, does anyone know where his address is? Come on, any takers? Yeah, I thought so.”

Unlike Recruit, which would only warrant a few grumbles here and there from the team, Informant was the subject of a lot of hissed complaints and terrible rants from even the calmest of members.

Informant was the only one who could get under Heavy’s skin - a personal pet peeve of his was being considered less intelligent or less of a human being because English wasn’t his first language, which Informant chose to remind him of constantly.

It began with a few simple jabs at his grammar or word structure, but once Informant figured out that Heavy wouldn’t hurt a fly outside of battle, the taunts grew more and more daring.

Heavy would usually ignore Informant, which would only exacerbate their need to be noticed. This led to some pretty nasty interactions - from spouting the statistics of Russia’s average intelligence to even saying Heavy was a disgrace to his country by being a literature major.

“How’s that Russian literature major treating you? You know - in America.”

Sniper and Medic had tried to set Informant straight, but Heavy refused to accept any help. This was something that was his to bear, and his alone. He knew that they both took their own helping of harassment.

But one day, Informant went a little to far.

He did the one thing you should never do: insult Heavy’s family.

“You mother and sisters can’t do anything more than wait for you. No wonder you’re the only source of income.”

Before he knew it, Informant was against a wall, struggling to breathe, blood running into his eyes.

Heavy walked away after the incident, and told Medic about it, but he refused to heal him. Informant had called Medic a Nazi on more than one occasion.

This, finally, is where Spy comes in.

Spy was walking by Informant’s office, when he heard a strange sound - barely suppressed hiccups and sobs.

Despite his aversion to displays of emotion, the promise of seeing one of his greatest enemies as their lowest was too amusing to resist.

He knocked lightly on the door, then slowly opened it - always the master of drama.

Informant was under their desk, bloodied and bruised, sobbing into their knees.

Spy entered noiselessly, sitting in Informant’s office chair and lighting a cigarette.

It was only when Spy made a dramatic exhale of the smoke that Informant looked up, tears streaking their face.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Spy finally spoke.

“Oh, how the mighty fall. Flown too close to the sun, have we?”

Informant couldn’t do much more than snivel and retreat farther below the desk.

“Who did it?” Spy asked. “I want to give them my regards…and maybe a bottle of wine.”

“H-Heavy…”

“Oh? Well, if anyone can bring him to blows, it’s you.”

Spy put his feet on the desk and continued to blow smoke out of his nose, thinking.

“It’s strange,” he said. “Most offices have at least a few pictures of family. A trip to the beach, perhaps the zoo…?”

He took a quick glance around.

“No children. No army mates. No graduation photos or a large catch at a local lake. The only personal item you have is this…”

Spy picked up a Rubik’s Cube. The plastic still around it crinkled.

“Unused.”

Informant looked at the floor.

“I like to keep my personal and professional life separate.”

Spy pursed his lips and squinted.

“How noble of you. But I don’t think that’s the case. You know what I think, Informant?”

Spy took his feet of the desk and bent down, looking Informant in the eyes.

“I don’t think you have a life.”

Informant’s eyes went wide for a moment, then his face immediately crumpled. Bullseye.

Spy smirked and got up from the chair, starting to leave.

Informant’s sniffling turned into sobbing, and before Spy could put his hand on the doorknob, muffled wailing filled the office.

Spy closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He was trying not to remember something. But the imagery was too strong.

He remembered hiding under a table, like Informant was. People screaming and cursing at each other in French. His knees all scarred and his nose runny from a cold that should have resolved weeks ago. Waltz music coming from next door, trying to drown out the fighting. Glass breaking. Biting his knuckles so he wouldn’t whimper or cry.

Spy’s hand closed into fist. He took a deep breath, and turned to face Informant again.

“But to be fair…”

He walked towards the desk, putting his hand in his suit pocket. He got on his knees and pulled out a pink handkerchief.

“…I don’t have one either.”

He offered the handkerchief to Informant, who put it to his face, still staring at Spy through red eyes.

The pair were silent for a moment, with Spy putting out his cigarette and lighting a new one while Informant cleaned themselves up.

“But the difference between you and I,” Spy said, his voice wavering a bit, “is that I am a Spy. If my information got into the wrong hands, it could be the end of me and my team.”

He tapped his cigarette on a nearby trash can, letting the ashes fall into it.

“But what are you hiding from?”

Informant took a shaky inhale, the handkerchief still covering his nose and mouth.

“W-what?”

“Why do you feel the need to be, as Scout puts it, a tier five jerkazoid?”

Informant sniffled. “I…I didn’t think I took it that far.”

“Took what that far?”

“I just…snrk…I thought that’s what I had to do to get them to take me seriously.”

Informant laughed, but their heart wasn’t in it.

“I’m five foot four with red hair and freckles. I look more like someone’s Andy doll than a contract killer. I thought maybe if I knew everything…I’d be worth it.”

They shrugged.

“At best, they’d be impressed. At worst, they would never get close enough to me to know the truth: the only reason why I’m here is because I can rattle off a few names and that I had good grades in school because I had nothing better to do.”

Spy’s chest ached. He didn’t know why, but it was a strange feeling to him.

“Mon ami…”

He cleared his throat.

“If half of the team is any indication, you don’t need to be Nikola Tesla to be hired. Hell, the fact you can read is an anomaly in itself. But there is something you must understand…”

Spy cleared his throat again. His voice had gotten quite unstable all of a sudden.

“Intelligence is measured in different ways. Scout could never read even the simplest of children’s books, but his physical intelligence - reflexes, spatial awareness, aim - is phenomenal. Medic would have to put my spine back together if I even attempted to do what he does on the field.”

Informant snickered at the joke, or perhaps the image it conjured.

“And me,” Spy continued. “I can speak almost any language, adjust to any social setting, charm anyone, fool anyone…kill anyone. Just like you, I can remember, and I use the information I absorb mostly to show how superior I am to all my lowly colleagues.”

Spy furrowed his brow and looked away.

“But I know less about myself than even my enemies. I have hidden it so deep within my mind that I can hardly remember…or perhaps would rather not remember…who I was before this mask of mine.”

Informant hesitated. “I…I’m sorry, Spy.”

Spy sneered and puffed a few smoke rings.

“I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to have some self-respect - and respect for my teammates. Because next time you are beaten within an inch of your life, you might catch me in a less generous mood.”

With that, Spy got up, reached into his suit pocket and presented a small MediKit, which he tossed to Informant.

“I’d suggest freshening up before going to any more briefings.”

Informant nodded, and set to work healing himself.

Spy started to leave, then stuck his head back in.

“And hang a few posters, would you? Your office looks like a prison cell.”

Finally, the Frenchman took his leave, adjusting his suit and nodding solemnly to the team members he happened to pass - or scowling at them, depending.

He glanced over the security feed, and once he was satisfied, made his way to his smoking room.

Spy closed the heavy oak door, poured himself a small glass of scotch, and sat down in his chair next to the fireplace.

He put a magazine on his knee and began to flip through the pages, but his gaze soon started to wander.

He closed the magazine, tossed it into the fire, leaned into his hand, and wept.

…So what became of Informant?

Well, after a reluctant heal from Medic and a few well-deserved apologies, Informant began to try and break the cycle of self-sabotage.

The process took a lot longer than Recruit’s did - especially since Informant’s transgressions were a lot more egregious - but, little by little, they began to heal.

A lot of the time, the other mercs would have to tell them to tone it down a bit, or to cut him off completely if necessary.

Informant still almost has a panic attack if he doesn’t have the right papers, and his office is still pretty bare, but he took Spy’s advice - a few AC/DC posters hang on the leftmost wall.

As for Spy, well…he needs to have a talk with Medic.

******************

I am so sorry…this is all so messy and weird. One is so much longer than the other, and I’m not even sure half the dialogue sounds right.

The two headcanons were just typed out at different times, the first where I had less motivation and the second when I had more motivation. This wasn’t on purpose, it just happened.

I hope you still like it, though!

78 notes · View notes

randomsnakesimp · 3 years

Text

Okay. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna take the leap and say: Phobos is the victim (sorta).

Quick disclaimer: I am going to abuse plot holes and cartoon logic for my cause in a very nitpicky way. If you dislike that, I can completely understand, and I hope this warning will save you a lot of reading.

Also, this won't go into just headcanon territory, I'll put those in a separate post. Everything here I'll try to keep based on actual information from the comics and what I made of them.

That said...

Let's take a look at this scene:

(for a quick translation of the important part, the mother says: "No, Phobos, Meridian is meant for your sister. That's the law. The crown is hers.)

What we can see here are a few very important things:

1. Phobos is at most 5 years older than Elyon.

2. The name "Phobos" is not an edgy nickname he gave himself. Five-year-olds don't go around calling themselves Phobos. So his parents, for some reason, gave him that name.

3. His mother is very adamant about him not even touching the crown and reminding him of his sisters' birthright.

So, after establishing what I would call more or less facts, what else can, relatively savely, be deduced here?

- Since Elyon never noticed anything weird about herself, she can't have aged slower than earth children. So neither can Phobos. This would mean that, as she was kidnapped after her mothers death as a baby, he would have been five. So, he either tried his best to rule at age five, or the council we see as Elyon rules stepped in for him for a while

- this would then mean two things: we need an explanation as to why Miriadel, Alborn and Galgheita fled explicitly from Phobos (I'll give my explanation a bit further down) and second, Phobos' reign of terror wasn't even thirteen years, and a lot of that time he was a child/teen and could not even have been mature enough to rule.

- This also means that Kandrakar pulled up the veil when Phobos was at most five, likely younger, and that the so called "Seal of Phobos" also existed at that time, as both the veil and the seal are seen in the flashback depicting Elyons abduction. For Kandrakar, this, too, I will try to explain soon, but as for the seal, I find it most plausible that the theory @ror-witch used in their fanfiction, of the seal being a royal heirloom and named after each ruler, is true.

- His and his mother's relationship was neither as bad as some assumptions go, but neither was it that good, probably, or at least it wasn't in his perception. See how his memory is of her cradling the baby the entire time and talking more about his sisters birthright than about what he has/can do? Yes, it's only a short memory, but I think it's clear that it's a summary of what he remembers of his mother.

- Phobos desire to rule Meridian does not stem from something deeply sinister, but rather from a childish spite. Five year old Phobos probably just wanted the crown cause it looked nice and shiny, and he was fabulous even back then, but after his mothers words, he sulked and decided to show her. That's his motivation.

So, now let's go a bit further and look at some other things we can deduce from the rest of the comics:

- Phobos has a huge dungeon, a wall of roses that turn people into more roses if they touch it and his plan for the annihilation of Meridian is "Well, Cedric and I hide in the castle and...we'll see". He hates the people of Meridian, but he doesn't seem to have it in him to directly attack anyone until Elyon is there and even here, when he has her knocked out in their duel or locked up as Endarno, he isn't unnecessarily cruel. He's not evil in nature, he's more of a very dangerous child throwing tantrums. ( Cedric is kinda similar, and they both start losing it toward the coronation, but I sincerely believe that before that, there would have been a chance for them to come around )

- The only person he ever tortures or even hurts directly is Cedric. Because one, he likes Cedric and so gets more extreme emotions around him, and two, Cedric never says anything, and just plays it of afterwards, so I don't know if he even fully realizes what he's doing, like a child hitting someone. If Cedric ever just said "Stop it, you're hurting me", Phobos would probably need an entire week to process that input.

- Phobos is VERY reclusive, and he doesn't want anyone to have even pictures of him, and while that could be a God complex, I get some highly insecure vibes out of it, in a vulnerable narcissist kinda way, in that he is massively overcompensating. I gotta admit, though, that I cannot put my finger on why, so maybe take this with a grain of salt and decide for yourself if you agree.

- Kandrakar never orders the guardians to help Meridian in any way, just to make sure nothing oozes out. They likely pulled up the veil for their own protection, so Phobos wouldn't be able to spread far enough to become a real danger, rather than to protect innocent people, as clearly the Meridian people mean shit to them

- while the guards are widely feared in Meridian, Cedric seems to be viewed as... not very frightening or important, as some random merchant feels comfortable clinging to his cape (and rightfully so, apparently, as Cedric just tells him to piss off and doesn't care any further). This further leads me to believe that Cedric is rather unhealthy devoted to Phobos and his tantrums while their shitty ass reign leaves a lot of free space for unsuited people to become guards and tyranize the people.

- the King and Queen seem to have died in rapid succession, and shortly after the scene shown above, yet she looks perfectly healthy in that scene.

Now, what do I make of all this?

I believe the line of events to be as follows:

I don't think Phobos traveling back in time is a viable theory for mainly two reasons: I think his mother would be less chill around him if she saw/heard about his reign herself, and I believe that it would have been mentioned somewhere along the way if that were the case. Instead, what I believe happened is that the oracle had a vague vision of Phobos nearly taking over Kandrakar. Deciding in their random mood swings that today was a day of action, they had the people of Meridian informed that the next male born to a queen would become a dangerous tyrant, pulled up a veil and set their guardians to make sure nothing oozed out.

The veil, of course, made the people of Meridian feel trapped and a horror of the unborn prince who would ruin their lives spread.

So, when Weira gave birth to that prince, a full blown panic spread, so much so that she, in a fit of hysterical emotion, named him after that boust of panic. Of course, people tried to kill the prince basically from the moment he was born, and he was met with barely concealed resentment.

Soon after, Weira and her husband died - whether they were killed, or fell ill, or died in an accident, I have no idea, but I wouldn't completely rule out an assassination either aimed at Phobos and accidentally hitting them or the strain making at least one of them fall terminally ill.

Either the people rioted and Phobos' magic panic reaction or the leftover loyal guard was enough to fight them back, or the people succumbed to their fate at this point, slumping into the state of despair seen throughout the comics. But in the end, five year old Phobos had to be handed the throne. I assume the council still had some say at this point, but he did manage to get all pictures of him destroyed - this order was likely due to the fact that they were mostly caricatures.

So he grew up with the very volatile combination of a shitton of power and no one able to tell him if he was being stupid on one hand, and feeling unloved and unwanted on the other. He withdrew, likely also due to countless assassination attempts or things he perceived as such, and went into a negative feedback loop of being unable to mature and take responsibility, therefore being a shit ruler, therefore being hated, therefore having no one to help him, therefore being unable to face and grow from his mistakes, rinse and repeat.

So, Meridian was plunged into chaos, yet he seemed fine more or less just sitting in the new playroom he made for himself in the gardens, sporadically giving out an order or two and having generally no idea about anything that didn't directly concern him.

Enter Elyon. Now, she send him of the rails, as she was a danger to his lifestyle AND a reminder of all the sentiments he'd be drowning in alcohol if he wasn't too much of a recluse and education denier to know of that option. He doesn't even try. He just lets Cedric, the one person he trusts, handle her, like everything else, and somewhat plays along sometimes, when he feels like it. This is where he passes the point of no return and starts actually trying to kill people, culminating in him creating an army to wipe out Meridian. I still believe that even at this point, in his head, what he's doing is just throwing a nice toy out the window just so his sister won't have it.

#w.i.t.c.h. comics #w.i.t.c.h.#w.i.t.c.h. theory #prince phobos #Kandrakar is a shitshow

69 notes · View notes

shepard-ram · 3 years

Text

Yandere!Hermitcraft x Reader [Headcanons]

(Not a request: my amazing anons [mostly hibiscus, dodo and honey] gave me some breadcrumbs and I am running with it.Tw. Yandere, manipulation, kidnapping etc. honestly thinking about making some poly ones)

Includes: Grian, Xisuma, Scar, Bdubs, Doc (separate)

Grian-

You were already constantly found together

Your relationship was built on carefree laughter

For a long while everything was perfect, you were practically one person

You were where he was, you talked to whoever he was talking to- it just worked

You only knew something was wrong when you started trying to branch off on your own

Sure you had your own base, projects and life, but something about you drifting away just a little more set him off

Was he not enough? Did he do something wrong?

No, you are happy with him and if you're forgetting that he has no problem reminding you

You use to spend alot of time hanging out in the hobbit hole, surely you won't mind spending a little more there

It has all you could need! All he had to do was clean it up and get rid of anything you could hurt... "yourself " with

It was easy to get you there, it was an innocent suggestion to visit the refurbished base "just like we use to"

You didn't realize your mistake until it was time to head back to your base

If you try to leave? Well you must not need him. You'll be left completely alone until you come to your senses

"It was always us! You don't need anyone else."

Xisuma-

He was immediately very protective of you when you joined the server

It made sense, you didn't know anyone so of course he'll get you on your feet!

It was sweet at first, seeing your adorable excitement to literally everything

And your fascination when he pulled up his admin screen could melt hearts

Someone so sweet should be kept safe!

Even if he logically knows the others wouldn't touch you it doesn't ease his paranoia

It's not like the hermits are 100% innocent, and the server is bound to be filled with dangerous machines and not so safe pranks

That's what he tells you as much as himself, as well as how sad he'd be if you leave

He hates that he has to guilt you into staying, but it's all for you. He doesn't want anything to happen to you

And he's not lying, he really doesn't know what he would do without you

He does his best to let you walk around his towers that made his base and let the others talk to you

That is- until you end up with even the smallest injuries, rather or not it was caused by another hermit it's his snapping point

It felt a little cleché, to be locked away in a tower like a fairy tale

He does his best to keep you happy, it breaks his heart to see you so scared of him

"Please don't be like that, you're safe here. I-I can't let anyone hurt you"

Scar-

You never really got the chance to talk before the mayoral race

That is precisely why you decided to help him and Bdubs, giving endorsement speeches and making posters

After that he never wants to leave your side, giving you a job in townhall just to keep you around

Convinces himself you were just ment to be together

He makes sure to do everything perfect

Gifts of flowers, jewlery, chocolates and notes filled with all the things he admires about you

He's very confused when you look so terrified

Doesn't process the fact that he saw your reaction through your window

He was going to give you a grand confession

That was until you came to him for comfort, spilling your worries about a stalker

You both knew he was far from physically strong, so when you came to him for safety- he is over the moon

For your stay he is so happy to express all the love that couldn't through the gifts

When you realize his compliments are way too similar he's already so far in his own head it all falls on deaf ears

He's so dependent on your presence, and he always makes sure you know how much he loves you

"Hey where are you trying to go? Get back here, I need you to sleep."

Bdubs-

He was always trying to show off to you

Always saying he enjoyed the "rivals" thing you had, rather or not you played along

It was all fun and games for you, meanwhile he was just spiraling deeper into obsession

Even with the smallest decisions he couldn't stop thinking about you, what'd you like, what'd you think

Your approval means absolutely everything

And of course you innocently fed into it, every little compliment on his outfit, every little awe filled smile at his builds

You must love everything about him just like he loves everything about you!

It's so obvious- whenever he sees you you're smiling or chuckling or mumbling to yourself, it's so clear that you think about him just as much

And since you're just as in love, surely you'll be ecstatic to see the home he made just for you

Of course you love it with! Oh, you're going back to your own base? Well how considerate you are, not wanting to bother him

It takes a while to convince you but you're just playing hard to get!

The house has everything you could ever want, and he can give you all the attention you could need

No matter what you try to do or say he keeps making excuses, you love him. And that's the end of it

No matter how you act out he acts like it's nothing

"Calm down darling, you'll feel better after a nap. We can cuddle!"

Doc-

You weren't very close, but that didn't stop an infatuation from forming

Maybe that was part of it, you were just far enough away for it feel like a challenge

And boy is he always up for a challenge

He is made of patient dedication, you are never out of his sight

Has a small shrine of pictures and trinkets he's stolen for when he can't see you properly

Probably the most self-aware, he knows how messed up this is, how messed up he is.

That doesn't stop him from making sure your soon to be home together is as comfortable as possible

Everything was ready, now all he had to do was take you. It was easy, he knew exactly where you would be and when

He actually hesitated before going through with it, after all you look so peaceful sleeping

He was careful not to wake you taking you home

He knows it'll take awhile for you to adjust, but again he's extremely patient

Until you break he's very cold, but when you (inevitably) do he trys to be the perfect partner for you

Trys, he's still very unstable, so you better not act out

"Don't look so scared. Just listen, be good and everything will be okay."

#mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #hermitcraft x reader #hc x reader #tw. yandere #shepard ram writes #c: grian #c: xisuma #c: scar #c: bdubs #c: doc

289 notes · View notes

dragynkeep · 3 years

Note

saw a headcanon about dabi having bpd. thoughts? you're smart at the psych stuff and i know you're mostly rwby but you do mha too, right?

okay so keep in mind that is my own personal analysis; as a psychology 3rd year student & as someone with bpd. someone else may have a completely different perspective & that's absolutely fine! also do not take my discussions here as a diagnosis for anyone who relates to dabi in these ways.

okay with that out of the way wheeze.

there are nine characteristics of bpd, of which you need five to be classically diagnosed with the disorder. they are:

fear of abandonment, unstable relationships, self harm, inappropriate anger, unclear or shifting self image, impulsive / self destructive behaviours, chronic feelings of emptiness, feeling suspicious out of touch with reality

i bolded the ones which i think dabi has exhibited in canon & i'll go a little more into why i think so here.

unstable relationships, looks at his relationships with his family in canon. oh dear, oh honey. i don't think dabi has had a stable relationship in his life & he's learned that from a very early age, in that his praise & relationship with enji was conditional & dependent on how he behaved, especially in training. when enji stopped that, he unknowingly took away the entire framework that touya was working from in order to progress, one he'd learned entirely from his primary social circle, his father. that's traumatizing for a child & could absolutely also lead into his unclear self image. touya in canon doesn't seem to have a self image, he defines himself solely by those around him & especially in connection to enji. he's enji's son, his demon, the monster from his past, the failure. touya seems to cycle on these depending on his mental state.

fear of abandonment can also play into this, though i italicized that one just because i believe it isn't one of his most forefront characteristics & also seems to take a backseat in his narrative. the most notable moment i can see for it is touya when he was younger, accusing natsuo of "ignoring him" like enji did, which can play into that fear. enji all but abandoned touya to being raised by rei after they were told that touya just couldn't handle the training anymore, & with that loss of a framework, it just broke something in him. however, i don't see this exhibited too much in him as an adult, which could also just be that touya has suppressed it.

self harm is exhibited very clearly in both touya's current day & his childhood; his insistence on training despite enji & rei begging him not to, shows how he didn't care about the hurt or the burns so far as it gains him the attention & praise that he needs. children need attention, they need affection & care & love, & when enji pulled away from touya, he took all of that away from touya too. an interesting design choice to note that could also fall under this would be his staples — clearly they can't be very comfortable or sanitary on the burned areas, but i do wonder if touya put them in or allowed them to be as a reminder.

i think his inappropriate anger is also exhibited, not in that he's angry, which as an abuse victim & a traumatized, angry man who learned his emotions directly tie to how powerful his fire is, but that he exhibits & expresses that anger inappropriately. his anger isn't just directed at the cause of his trauma, he attempts to murder natsuo & shoto as a form of revenge, he harms civilians in a continuous act of revenge, everything touya does is centred around a goal driven by his unending anger — hurting enji.

while i don't think his behaviours are impulsive, they are absolutely self destructive. it isn't exampled anymore more clearly than on his own body, the self inflicted burns in a traumatized child's grasp for affection, touya burned himself up & never stopped burning, even when that destruction spread to others.

now there are also four sub - types of bpd; discouraged, petulant, impulsive & self destructive. people are not locked into one type & this can change but with this analysis of touya, i think that he would fit self destructive the most. touya is literally burning himself up, everything he is, every moment of the day in the aim that he will take enji with him.

bpd is also not a trauma based disorder, the framework & neurochemical balance can exhibit in non traumatized / abused people also. do i think touya would have developed bpd if he was raised in a different environment? i don't know, because our scope of touya begins so early through the scope of enji's abuse & the ideals he had for his child, that ultimately ended up being touya's undoing.

so with this analysis in mind, i would comfortably believe that touya exhibits bpd. & though i don't believe horikoshi intentionally wrote him that way, it's interesting to see how bpd symptoms & symptoms of other marginalized disorders can exhibit in those we see as villains & how those with these disorders can relate with them because of that.

#mha #bnha #touya todoroki #enji todoroki #owl.txt #answered #q #abuse /#self harm /#child abuse /#tw /#ask to tag /

48 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 3 years

Note

Here's a quandary I've suddenly found myself in: where do you stand on writers deleting their own works, fanfiction or otherwise? I've had this happen to me on more than one occasion - I go to look for an old favorite and find it's since been deleted from whatever site I read it on.

On the one hand, I'm inclined to think that, "Sure. The author wrote it, it's their call. I don't own the work - I certainly didn't pay for it. It's their decision, even if it's disappointing."

But at the same time I can't help but consider the alternative - if I believe in death of the author (and I do), that an author's work fundamentally isn't solely theirs once it's been published, posted, etc., then it also seems wrong to have a work deleted. Stories aren't the sole property of their creator, after all.

But then I circle back. D'you think there are different obligations between authors and readers and the works being made in fandom space? I know if I had bought a book and the author decided they wanted it back, I would feel pretty comfortable telling them no, given I'd paid for it and whatnot. But that's a different world from fanfic and fandom space generally.

So. You're insightful Clyde, I'm curious as to what you'll have to say here (and to all y'all thinking about it, don't flame me. I haven't decided where I stand here yet - haven't heard a good nail-in-the-coffin argument for or against yet).

Val are you a mind reader now? I’ve been thinking about this exact conundrum the last few days!

(And yeah, as a general disclaimer: no flaming. Not allowed. Any asks of the sort will be deleted on sight and with great satisfaction.)

Honestly, I’m not sure there is a “nail-in-the-coffin argument” for this, just because—as you lay out—there are really good points for keeping works around and really good points for allowing authors to have control over their work, especially when fanworks have no payment/legal obligations attached. In mainstream entertainment, your stories reflect a collaborative effort (publisher, editor, cover artists, etc.) so even if it were possible to delete the physical books out of everyone’s home and library (and we're ignoring the censorship angle for the moment), that’s no longer solely the author’s call, even if they have done the lion’s share of the creative work. Though fanworks can also, obviously, be collaborative, they’re usually not collaborative in the same way (more “This fic idea came about from discord conversations, a couple tumblr posts, and that one headcanon on reddit”) and they certainly don’t have the same monetary, legal, and professional strings attached. I wrote this fic as a hobby in my free time. Don’t I have the right to delete it like I also have the right to tear apart the blankets I knit?

Well yes… but also no? I personally view fanworks as akin to gifts—the academic term for our communities is literally “gift economy”—so if we view it like that, suddenly that discomfort with getting rid of works is more pronounced. If I not only knit a blanket, but then gift it to a friend, it would indeed feel outside of my rights to randomly knock on their door one day and go, “I actually decided I hate that? Please give it back so I can tear it to shreds, thanks :)” That’s so rude! And any real friend would try to talk me out of it, explaining both why they love the blanket and, even if it’s not technically the best in terms of craftsmanship, it holds significant emotional value to them. Save it for that reason alone, at least. Fanworks carry that same meaning—“I don’t care if it’s full of typos, super cliché, and using some outdated, uncomfortable tropes. This story meant so much to me as a teenager and I’ll always love it”—but the difference in medium and relationships means it’s easier to ignore all that. I’m not going up to someone’s house and asking face-to-face to destroy something I gave them (which is awkward as hell. That alone deters us), I’m just pressing a button on my computer. I’m not asking this of a personal friend that is involved in my IRL experiences, I’m (mostly) doing this to online peers I know little, if anything, about. It’s easy to distance ourselves from both the impact of our creative work and the act of getting rid of it while online. On the flip-side though, it’s also easier to demean that work and forget that the author is a real person who put a lot of effort into this creation. If someone didn’t like my knitted blanket I gave them as a gift, they’re unlikely to tell me that. They recognize that it’s impolite and that the act of creating something for them is more important than the construction’s craftsmanship. For fanworks though, with everyone spread around the world and using made up identities, people have fewer filters, happily tearing authors to shreds in the comments, sending anon hate, and the like. The fact that we’re both prefacing this conversation with, “Please don’t flame” emphasizes that. So if I wrote a fic with some iffy tropes, “cringy” dialogue, numerous typos, whatever and enough people decided to drag me for it… I don’t know whether I’d resist the urge to just delete the fic, hopefully ending those interactions. There’s a reason why we’re constantly reminding others to express when they enjoy someone else’s work: the ratio of praise to criticism in fandom (or simply praise to seeming indifference because there was no public reaction at all), is horribly skewed.

So I personally can’t blame anyone for deleting. I’d like to hope that more people realize the importance of keeping fanworks around, that everything you put out there is loved by someone… but I’m well aware that the reality is far more complicated. It’s hard to keep that in mind. It’s hard to keep something around that you personally no longer like. Harder still to keep up a work you might be harassed over, that someone IRL discovered, that you’re disgusted with because you didn’t know better back then… there are lots of reasons why people delete and I ultimately can’t fault them for that. I think the reasons why people delete stem more from problems in fandom culture at large—trolling, legal issues, lack of positive feedback, cancel culture, etc.—than anything the author has or has not personally done, and since such work is meant to be a part of an enjoyable hobby… I can’t rightly tell anyone to shoulder those problems, problems they can’t solve themselves, just for the sake of mine or others’ enjoyment. The reason I’ve been thinking about this lately is because I was discussing Attack on Titan and how much I dislike the source material now, resulting in a very uncomfortable relationship with the fics I wrote a few years back. I’ve personally decided to keep them up and that’s largely because some have received fantastic feedback and I’m aware of how it will hurt those still in the fandom if I take them down. So if a positive experience is the cornerstone of me keeping fics up, I can only assume that negative experiences would likewise been the cornerstone of taking them down. And if getting rid of that fic helps your mental health, or solves a bullying problem, or just makes you happier… that, to me, is always more important than the fic itself.

But, of course, it’s still devastating for everyone who loses the work, which is why my compromise-y answer is to embrace options like AO3’s phenomenal orphaning policy. That’s a fantastic middle ground between saving fanworks and allowing authors to distances themselves from them. I’ve also gotten a lot more proactive about saving the works I want to have around in the future. Regardless of whether we agree with deleting works or not, the reality is we do live in a world where it happens, so best to take action on our own to save what we want to keep around. Though I respect an author’s right to delete, I also respect the reader’s right to maintain access to the work, once published, in whatever way they can. That's probably my real answer here: authors have their rights, but readers have their rights too, so if you decide to publish in the first place, be aware that these rights might, at some point, clash. I download all my favorite fics to Calibre and, when I’m earning more money (lol) I hope to print and bind many for my personal library. I’m also willing to re-share fic if others are looking for them, in order to celebrate the author’s work even if they no longer want anything to do with it. Not fanfiction in this case, but one of my fondest memories was being really into Phantom of the Opera as a kid and wanting, oh so desperately, to read Susan Kay’s Phantom. Problem was, it was out of print at the time, not available at my library, and this was before the age of popping online and finding a used copy. For all intents and purposes, based on my personal situation, this was a case of a book just disappearing from the world. So when an old fandom mom on the message boards I frequented offered to type her copy up chapter by chapter and share it with me, you can only imagine how overjoyed I was. Idk what her own situation was that something like scanning wouldn’t work, but the point is she spent months helping a fandom kid she barely knew simply because a story had resonated with her and she wanted to share it. That shit is powerful!

So if someone wants to delete—if that’s something they need right now—I believe that is, ultimately, their decision… but please try your hardest to remember that the art you put out into the world is having an impact and people will absolutely miss it when it’s gone. Often to the point of doing everything they can to put it back out into the world even if you decide to take it out. Hold onto that feeling. The love you have for your favorite fic, fanart, meta, whatever it is? Someone else has that for your work too. I guarantee it.

So take things down as needed, but for the love of everything keep copies for yourself. You may very well want to give it back to the world someday.

#fandom #fic things #mymetas #never any easy questions on this blog huh? lol

20 notes · View notes

sourwolphs · 3 years

Text

Like an Animal - Bucky x Reader (1/8)

Read on Ao3 (For better interface + formatting)

Summary: Reader is an enhanced Omega kidnapped by Hydra and trapped in a cell with Alpha Bucky Barnes. Tags: A/B/O, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending Warnings: Rated M, Kidnapping, Degrading Language (not from Bucky) A/N: This story takes place post-Endgame, but everyone is happy and living in the compound and nobody died :-) Because I said so. Also switches POV between Reader and Bucky, with Reader in first person and Bucky in third! Follows typical A/B/O dynamics, with some random headcanons thrown in and explained.

The first thing I felt was the searing pain in my wrists.

My eyes flickered open, slowly taking in my surroundings, my heartbeat picking up as each terrifying detail came into my line of sight. My back ached terribly, cold cement beneath my skin. I was slumped in the corner of some kind of cell. It was dimly lit—just light enough to reveal the shadows of the large space, and the light of a hallway stretching to my right through the bars of the cell. I looked down at my body to find it clad in the clothes I’d been wearing the night before. My shoes were missing, plain socks dirty on my feet.Worst of all— my wrists were bound in a thick metal band, glowing with a soft blue light that ached where it touched my skin.

My memories were blurry. The last thing I remembered was approaching the front door of my 3rd floor walkup late at night, seeing a shadow slip from the dark alley to my left, before everything went black.

The red-haired agent had warned me it was only a matter of time before those with bad intentions discovered me and the things I could do. If I could, I would have kicked myself for not listening to her when I’d been warned.

I lifted my hands to test my powers, summoning the energy I felt like an icy throb in my chest. But when I tried to channel it down through my hands, urging even a snowflake to appear, all I felt was a stinging pain. Whatever the device on my wrists was, it completely neutralized my abilities. If my heart had been beating fast before, now I was approaching unprecedented levels of panic. Deep breaths, deep breaths, I told myself. Panicking won’t get you out of here. But as I took my next inhale, my other senses kicked in.

The second thing I realized? I was not alone in this cell.

I could smell my own scent, layered with sickly sweet anxiety and the sharp, metallic scent of panic. But a foreign scent, distinctly Alpha drifted towards me from the shadows of the cell. I instinctually curled closer to the wall, my Omega hindbrain working overtime to protect me. Bare your throat. Make yourself small. You are defenseless. Not like I needed the reminder with the sharp pain still throbbing at my wrists.

I curled into a small ball, taking a quiet gulp of breath to assess the situation as I peered futilely through the shadows. I didn’t smell anger, or danger—just a heady, strong Alpha scent. Cedar, a hint of campfire and the crisp, clean scent of… snow. Not typical. But… good.

But the Alpha scent also had a hint of something else. Something strong. Something like rut. I tilted my head, confused— I heard a shifting, and the glint of metal moving in the far right corner of the cell. Two pinpricks of light—his eyes— lifted up and connected with mine.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose in fear. An Alpha nearing rut. Locked in a cell. With me. I took another few deep lungfuls of air, willing my heart rate to slow down and making myself smaller. Whoever locked me in here couldn’t have had good intentions. Should I… introduce myself?

I didn’t get the chance to decide. A door at the end of the hallway opened, and a pack of men filed in to stand outside the cell doors, peering in at me. I squared my jaw, biting down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep myself centered and tamp down on the inner voice telling me to submit.

“Not so powerful now, are you?” barked a weaselly looking Beta at the front of the group. He wore a tactical vest, buckled in an X shape in the front. His muscles, overcompensating an embarrassing amount for his designation, bulged on his compact frame.

I glared at him. “What do you want with me?” I spit.

He laughed. “Careful with that nasty attitude, Omega.”

I suppressed the disgusted shiver that trembled down my spine at his use of my designation.

“Big Guy in there won’t like a defiant bitch,” he continued. The men at the back of his pack laughed darkly. “Better get ready to submit.”

The Alpha in the corner was still motionless— still staring. I felt dread settle in a pit in my stomach at what they implied. Show no weakness. I put on my most defiant face.

“Oh, him?” I tossed my head in the Alpha’s direction, feigning indifference. Don’t show fear. “You can’t scare me. Take these cuffs off me and let’s see who submits first.”

The Beta growled, the laughter momentarily draining from his face, hackles raised. “Shut up, whore.” Then, he seemed to remember I was in the cell and he was outside of it. He smirked, before turning around to head back down the hallway with his pack. “You’ll see.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

I let out the breath I’d been holding as quietly as I could, willing my anxiety to settle so I could think. But it was then that the Alpha decided to stand and stalk slowly towards me.

Rationally, I knew Alphas were big and scary. They always were— overly tall, overly aggressive, insufferably controlling and dominant, and so strong-scented it made me feel lightheaded and stuffy. But this Alpha, well, all of the above was an understatement. He was tall and broad-shouldered with a wide chest and legs thick with muscle. He was wearing tight-fit, black clothing that showed off the muscles of his body to an exorbitant degree, and it looked, well, tactical—buckles and straps and belts with holsters that had been disarmed by whoever threw him in here with me. His face was still mostly in shadow in the dim cell, but I could make out curtains of brown hair and a strong jawline speckled with stubble. And the closer he got to me, the stronger his unique scent grew, washing over me like a wave— along with the growing scent of his rut.

You’re staring. Be small, my Omega hindbrain reminded me. I cowered, feeling fear wash over me again. What if he was in on this with them….I didn’t let myself think that far. I turned my head to the side slightly, baring my throat in an appeasing way to the dominant force in the room.

Then the Alpha’s full form came into my line of sight, and I realized exactly who I had been trapped in a cage with. Oh, fuck.

—————

Bucky didn’t know what possessed him to step forward. Chivalry, perhaps? Though according to Steve, that whole concept had died in the 21st century. Omegas didn’t look to Alphas for protection the way they had in the 40s. Something urged him towards the defiant Omega in the corner, and he would be lying if it didn’t partially have to do with her intoxicating scent and the weird and uncharacteristic prickliness he was experiencing that he couldn’t shake off. Her scent was sweet like peppermint, laced with the crispness of a cold gust of winter wind, but her anxiety at waking up across from him had soured it slightly. He didn’t blame her—but he couldn’t resist another lungful.

Bucky stepped forward slowly, his movements measured so as not to scare her. She had pushed herself as far into the corner as possible, her throat bared and chest rising and falling quickly. But as his face—and his recognizable arm— came into view, he saw the change in her expression as realization dawned. She gasped, her scent turning dark and desperate with fear. He stopped short, swallowing. Fuck.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. Then, improvising, he lowered to his knees in a position he hoped looked as non-threatening as possible, turning his face to the side to show her his throat in return. “I’m not going to hurt you. It’s… I’m—“ He stopped, shutting his eyes in resignation. This was not going well. She was still panicked, curling in on herself.

“I’m in control,” he said, hoping that would be enough to quell her fears. These days, the public knew all about the Winter Soldier and the horrible things his hands had done. But Shuri had erased the loophole from his brain over six years ago now, if you count the blip. Which is why it made no sense that Hydra had gone to such lengths to trap him here on a mission gone awry in Northern Europe.

Now wasn’t the time to dwell, though. He estimated he’d been trapped here for no more than about 15 hours, and he didn’t doubt that Steve, Sam and the rest of the team would track this base down within 24. He’d already examined his body for injuries, tested the bars for give and scoped out any other potential entry and exit points before Hydra agents had cracked the cell door with three assault rifles trained on him and dumped the Omega inside three hours ago. The only thing that felt off was this strange, growing feeling that he needed to get out of his skin. He’d already removed his outer layer of Kevlar, feeling hotter than normal.

The woman looked normal enough, besides the panic taking over her faculties and the unknown, bulky device clasped around her wrists. She was small, but deceptively strong—he could see the lean lines of muscle on her limbs. Her long hair was loose around her pretty face, and they’d removed her shoes— if she’d even been wearing any in the first place. But god, her smell. Bucky couldn’t help taking another deep lungful, trying to be as discreet as possible. It was like his body was on autopilot, drifting closer and closer to where she was pressed against the wall.

She looked confused by his placating bared throat. Nowadays, Alphas were insufferable hotheads. She’d probably never seen one so willing to submit to an Omega. Bucky noticed that the rise and fall of her chest was slowing. “A-are you really….?” she practically whispered.

He nodded, clenching his jaw. “The Winter Soldier?”

She nodded back—so small, it was almost imperceptible.

“You can call me Bucky. I’m not— The Winter Soldier doesn’t exist anymore.” He laughed a little. “They actually call me the White Wolf now…”

Something was wrong with his body. He was feeling itchy—painfully so now. He shifted forward even closer, on his knees, and she flinched imperceptibly— turning to face the wall next to her. He took another deep lungful of her scent, and the sweetness lit every cell in his body on fire. Was he… getting hard?

Realizing her distress and how close he’d gotten to her body, Bucky stood up and put distance between them. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s going on…” He gasped. Her scent was addicting. His Alpha was screaming at him to close the distance, grab her, shove his face into her scent gland and inhale. To run his hands all over her body, to rut into her, to sink his teeth into her gland and bite, to claim her as his own and mark her body all over…. Holy shit. He was going into rut. After 75 fucking years, he was going into rut while trapped in a Hydra cell with an unmated Omega.

Against his better instincts and training, Bucky started to panic.

————

I could tell exactly the moment that the Winter Soldier—Bucky, I corrected myself— realized what was happening. He’d been drifting closer and closer to me, his ice blue eyes trained on my gland, taking deep lungfuls of my scent as if I couldn’t tell exactly what he was doing.

When he recognized my distress, he forced distance between us, wiping sweat from his forehead and inspecting his hands—one flesh, one metal— as if they’d have an answer.

“Rut,” I said quietly. Our eyes connected. His were wide, panicked. His scent was sharp with fear and anxiety, so strong with lust it was making me dizzy. I pushed my forehead against the cold cement wall to center myself. Why would they kidnap me as Omega bait for a fucking Avenger? Why me?

“I’m on suppressants—I don’t know how…” He trailed off, then abruptly ripped the leather sleeve off his shirt in one swipe to inspect his upper arm. Holy shit, he was strong. I mean, I knew he was a super soldier, but Jesus Christ. “They stuck me with something.” His jaw was set in a tight line when he turned back to look at me, pupils blown wide with lust.

I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening.

He growled sharply in frustration, slamming his metal fist into the concrete wall of the cell so hard that cracks appeared on impact. I yelped in fear, my heart racing. Before I could open my mouth to apologize submissively, he dropped down to his knees again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I—“ He cut off, growling in frustration, fists clenched at his sides. He shook out his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes, before he looked up to meet mine again. “Please, don’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you,” he said through gritted teeth.

I nodded weakly, feeling the tears start to spill from my eyes. He was trembling now. Whatever they gave him was working quickly, and the strain of keeping himself contained was obvious in the restrained quiver of his limbs. Maybe I was fucking crazy, but I actually felt sorry for him. An ex-assassin Avenger twice my size, pumped full of super soldier serum and rut hormones. That couldn’t feel good— especially not with his history.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeated again. This time, it seemed more like he was trying to convince himself. His hands were clenched so hard I could hear his Vibranium fist squeak with the strain. “I won’t. I won’t—“ he gasped for a centering breath.

Against all rational instinct, I started to believe him. He wouldn’t hurt me. At least— he really didn’t want to.

I knew about the Winter Soldier. Everyone did. How Hydra had kidnapped him, tortured him, and turned him into a brainwashed weapon for their murderous intent. I couldn’t imagine how horrible this would be for him— with his very public history— to have control wrested from him again. Especially like this.

Comfort Alpha, my inner Omega cooed unhelpfully. Alpha is hurting. Help him.

Fighting back my fear, I came to my hands and knees on the cell floor, shuffling a few paces forward until we were only a few feet apart. He was still shaking slightly, murmuring to himself in what sounded like Russian, breathing shallowly. I risked another lungful of his scent, and it made my Omega go wild. I felt my own body start reacting to his arousal, my scent billowing out in soothing notes, slick between my legs. It was impossible for Omegas to launch into a sympathetic heat when they were distressed or in danger, but I couldn’t ignore how intoxicating his scent was to me— or the growing need I felt to soothe and calm him as his chest heaved with the strain of restraining himself.

“Get— Get away from me. I can’t—“ he spit through gritted teeth. I paused, hesitating, my bound hands reaching towards his knee. “I don’t want to hurt you—“

“It’s okay,” I murmured soothingly, hardly recognizing the calm sound of my voice when my heart was racing a million miles an hour inside my chest. I was too cowardly to be a hero before, when the red-haired agent had found me and urged me to join her. I had always run from responsibility and hidden my abilities from the world. Maybe today, I could be courageous.

I placed my hands on his forearm, feeling the sweat-slick heat of him. His head slowly raised to look at me. Up close, I could see his plush lips, the stubble along his jaw, his pupils blown wide with lust. His scent, God.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” I said. Bucky was panting now. “I— I trust you.” He narrowed his eyes at me disbelievingly, but my words and tempting closeness seemed to tamp down his initial panic. He leaned in closer, close enough that I could see the stubble of his jaw, his adorably delicate ears tucked behind the loose strands of hair framing his face, the plush cupid’s bow of his lips.

The pictures in the news don’t do Alpha justice, my Omega murmured.

“Isn’t someone coming for you? Aren’t you, like… a superhero?” I asked.

He grimaced, breaking eye contact. “I’m not a hero. But the team should be here within a few hours. We’ve never… lost someone for longer.”

I took a shaky breath. Okay. So we’re getting out of here.

“Do you know what they want?” I murmured. I could guess. Scum like Hydra only see Omegas as good for one thing: breeding. But I didn’t want to voice the horrible thoughts out loud.

He scoffed. “Whatever it is… I won’t do it.” The resolve set in his jaw, muscles ticking as we made eye contact again, the scent of his rage and restrained instincts washing over me— bitter as gunpowder and steel. He was still trembling, fists clenched. “I won’t.”

I felt something soften inside of me at his words. I should be terrified, rolling over on my stomach to submit— throat bared —but I felt… protected.

“Do you mind— Would it be okay if I—“ He cut himself off, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and looking pained.

“If…?”

“It helps if I can… scent you,” he sighed. “I won’t—“

Before he could finish that thought, I nodded my head in assent. There’s no greater pain to an Alpha in rut than being unable to touch. I shifted off my knees, intending to curl against his side, but he shocked me by standing and scooping me up into his arms, returning to the shadowy corner of the cell he’d been in when I’d first woken up. I bristled a little at his intentions, but he quickly set me down on a soft pile of leather and thick canvas that smelled strongly of his heady cedar scent— clothes he must have shed from the heat of rut.

“Sorry,“ He murmured. “I won’t touch you if you—“

“It’s okay,” I interrupted, taking a deep breath to steady myself and leaning back to get more comfortable. He hovered over me, propping his metal arm by my head. His ice blue eyes searched mine, our breaths loud in the quiet of the cell as we settled into the comfort of each others’ scents. I tilted my head to the side a bit, feeling my mating gland peek out from behind my hair.

Bucky growled softly, leaning down to press his face into my neck and taking deep lungfuls of my scent. I squeezed my eyes shut, bringing my bound hands awkwardly to touch his side to anchor myself. Under my palms, I could feel the tension leaving his muscles as he breathed me in.

“Omega,” he groaned, his voice raspy and deep. I shivered. Arousal stirred in me again, his chest pressed tight to mine as he nose trailed up and down my neck, into my hair and onto my cheek. “You smell so good. Fuck,” he whispered.

He was starting to lose himself. His flesh hand came to my waist, strong grip catching me off guard as he settled closer to me. My heart rate picked up again, and I fought the urge to bolt. Alpha won’t hurt you, my Omega supplied. Please your Alpha. Bucky must have picked up on my fear, because he pushed himself back.

“Sorry. I’ll—“ He shifted so he was laying next to me but with his lower half intentionally tilted away, arm across my waist and face near enough to my gland that he could continue to breathe me in. “Okay?” He grunted. I nodded, shocked that he was able to control himself enough to hold himself stiffly away from me. The scent of rut was so strong that from what I knew about Alphas, he should be animalistic with lust— unable to stop himself from shredding my clothes and taking me on the cell floor. Small mercies.

“Sleep,” he said gruffly. When I didn’t move or shut my eyes, he tightened his much gentler grip on my waist. “Please. I won’t… I won’t do anything. We’ll be out of here, before…” he trailed off, again. Boy, was he a man of few words. But he didn’t need to say it out loud for me to understand his meaning: Much longer, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

I took another soothing breath, trying to settle myself. Alpha wants you to sleep, my Omega purred. Alpha will protect you. For once in my life, I listened. I took in a lungful of his strong smell, taking comfort in the protective weight of his arm thrown over me, and let myself drift off.

#like an animal #my fic #bucky x reader #buckyreader #bucky reader insert #bucky x yn

54 notes · View notes