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yourmomwhitediamond · 30 days

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It is a prompt you desire?

Then a prompt you shall receive!

How about Rosie with a fem!S/O that's a talented (maybe was very popular when she was alive) pianist? Perhaps they knew each other when they were alive, and actually felt very strongly for one another, but due to the standards of the time they couldn't be together. But now that they're in hell, they don't need to worry about that anymore! Maybe the reader is a cannibal like Rosie as well, but that's for you to decide!

Anyhow, hope you like the prompt, and whatever one you end up going with from your ask box I hope you have fun writing for the best girl!

Thank you for this request. I did struggle a little with this one, so it might not be to your liking. I hope you enjoy it nevertheless!!

Warnings: cannibalism, fluff, and a hint of implied homophobia?

"Do you need a break?" You questioned, looking over your canvas to Rosie. You had noticed her small movements every time you peeked over to get a good look at her as you painted. It was obvious she was becoming uncomfortable, seated in the same position for just over an hour. And you wouldn't take no for an answer.

"No, I can last a while longer"

You sighed heavily and set your utensils down, "Rosie," You said in a knowing tone.

She too sighed and let herself relax. Her shoulders fell from their tensed state and her back slumped in defeat, "Okay"

A satisfied smile grew on your face as you stood and stepped over to Rosie. You offered a hand down to her and she took it gratefully, a delighted groan coming from her as she stretched her legs and back. With your hand still in hers you led her to the small round table where you had taken previous recesses. You patted the back of her hand before releasing it to go and get her some well-deserved pinky fingers and a hot beverage. As you prepared everything you could feel her eyes on you the entire time. You dared to take a look over your shoulder to make sure you weren't being paranoid. Turned out that your suspicions were correct. Her head snapped away, focusing her attention elsewhere. You chuckled and shook your head in amusement. The moment your back was facing her again, her gaze returned to you, watching your every move. You knew the layout of her kitchen like the back of your hand, which is strange considering you didn't even reside there. In all honesty, you spent most of your life in Rosie’s emporium/house than your own home.

It was touching to see how much you cared for her. You'd known her long enough to spot any signs of discomfort, stress and other things alike. She loved you for it. She loved you for many things. And it was only recently that she had discovered this love she felt for you wasn't platonic.

You swivelled back around with Rosie's drink and snacks, placing them in front of her. You took your place in the seat opposite her with a smile plastered on your face after Rosie thanked you.

"Thank you, darling," She reached her free hand out, palm facing up, gesturing for you to take it into yours. You happily obliged,"You're far too kind to me"

"Nonsense, you deserve the best" As she brought the drink up to her lips you kissed the back of her hand.

If your time in the living world was different, so would your relationship. Society frowned upon same-sex partners, so you both never had the chance to fully explore your feelings for each other. You were stuck in that time, mindset-wise, but if you weren't then there'd be none of this beating around the bush.

"Flatterer" Rosie spoke into her cup, hiding her smile and blush behind it.

Your smile turned into a smirk from her reaction so you carried on. You turned her hand and pressed your lips against her palm with your eyes trained on hers, "You're practically perfect in every way. But you already know that, don't you? Such an ethereal muse"

Rosie scoffed and lowered her cup, "You've only told me a thousand times before"

"And I plan to tell you a thousand times more, my dear" You were giving yourself mixed singles at this point, unable to understand why you were giving her these romantic gestures and flirtatious comments like every other day, but there was something else. You sensed something was off.

Rosie had slipped her hands away momentarily before scooting further forward and bringing them up to your face.

She seemed to think things over, trying to find the right words,"You know we're close friends"

Well that wasn't a clever way to start. It made you furrow your brows in confusion, but you answered nevertheless, "Yes"

Then your face filled with dread as you jumped to conclusions. The first scenario to pop into your head was her ending your friendship. That was happening, but it was going to be replaced with something far more than what you could've imagined. You didn't know that though, so you couldn't help but let your mind run wild with every single possibility anyone could imagine.

Rosie noticed your worry and gingerly caressed your face with her thumbs, rubbing small circles on your cheeks, "Don't look so worried, this is nothing bad"

"You're making it sound as if it's something negative" You argued in a whisper, your eyes drifting away from Rosie's.

"Darling," She sighed heavily, lifting your head to look her in the eye,"I'll get straight to the point. I love you"

There was a beat.

"But we aren't..." You trailed off, the realisation of her confession taking its time to sink in. Rosie felt, and saw, your cheeks heat up. There was no doubt in your mind that she could hear your heart thumping at an unimaginable speed as well. You searched her eyes, having doubts about whether she was being truthful or not. “We aren't allowed to love each other," You finished,"We were told it was a sin and-"

"We're in Hell, sweetie. There's no more being told who we can and can't love. It's not a sin. It's not why we ended up here," She cooed, bringing your face closer,"No more rules"

You took in a sharp breath and raised your hands to where Rosie’s rested. Never in your past and present life did you think you'd get a confession from her. But she was correct, there was no right or wrong in Hell and everything made sense now. You were no longer confused with your actions, thoughts and feelings.

You didn't think twice to close the gap and capture Rosie's lips, and she didn't hesitate to return the kiss. She felt you melt into putty. You leaned over the table to get more of her and hummed happily. It was at that moment you realised just how much you had been missing out on. Her lips felt like heaven against yours, they were so soft and plush. It was easily your new favourite thing.

However, it short-lived. Rosie started to pull back, but you were determined to keep it going, leaning further and further over the table to the point where you almost knocked the drink and snacks onto the floor.

Rosie laughed at your neediness and pecked your cheek when you eventually parted. Your face flushed and you sat back down, searching for the right words before admitting:

"I love you too"

It's late at night. I don't know if there are any mistakes. I'm going to sleep now. Night night my lovelies x

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel overlord #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin rosie x reader #rosie hazbin hotel #rosie x reader #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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rilin · 2 months

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Hello obscure JoCo fans!

As promised in this post, I'll be sharing a couple WIPS for some of my Jonathan Coulton Tarot Card project! :D

I've currently got about 10 wips done of the 22 in the whole major arcana, so I'm pretty stoked about that!! I'll share a couple of them here for starters! (I also don't want to reveal the layout I've designed for the cards yet either as it's all still a WIP - I'm not a graphic designer at heart, so it's been a struggle, but I think it's more or less there! :O) Tarot meanings below are pulled from BiddyTarot! -------

The Fool UPRIGHT: Beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit

REVERSED: Holding back, recklessness, risk-taking Song Choice: Wake Up (Solid State)

The image is referenced from the Solid State graphic novel and shows a view from the 'safe' zone, looking out onto the barren but free landscape. The album as a whole details a semi-hopeless future where technology and social media values have dominated, with both the two protagonists learning to break free in their own ways. The values of The Fool card definitely hold especially true to the protag in the song Wake Up - Future Bob has such a strong sense of innocent curiosity about what lies beyond the walls IMHO! -------

The Hermit UPRIGHT: Soul-searching, introspection, being alone, inner guidance

REVERSED: Isolation, loneliness, withdrawal Song Choice: I Crush Everything Now if ever there were a JoCo song choice about loneliness and withdrawl, it'd be about the poor Giant Squid. He desperately wants to touch and admire the boats that float above him but keeps destroying them, so he's learning to let go and hold back, even though it hurts. Poor guy! I tried to incorporate some of the classic lantern theming in the OG cards with the boat light and Mr Squids giant yellow eye too, as well as of course the moon, which seems to crop up in a good many tarot.

-------

Death

UPRIGHT: Endings, change, transformation, transition

REVERSED: Resistance to change, personal transformation, inner purging Song Choice: Blue Sunny Day Oh I can't tell you how much I love this song, tarot or no tarot, lol. I went through a GOOD number of choices for settling on BSD! (Spoilers, one was 'Still Alive' because it fit well and it was funny in an ironic way, but I ended up using that for a different card!) The themes fit so perfectly - the song is about a lonely vampire who is living in the past still, but ultimately the world ends up being too much for him and he has one final look at a beautiful blue sunny day... I also had a really strong visual idea in my head for it that I think I managed to get out okay in the WIP! It doesn't really include many of the OG tarot design motifs, but I find both the sun and moon to be heavily incorporated in a lot of em. ----- I'm looking forward to sharing more WIPs soon, and sharing my thoughts on my choices! :O

#joco #jonathan coulton #JoCoTarot #personal #my art

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theravishingbride · 8 months

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𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐲’𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥. . . 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐲!

Bonjour mon ami! This is my first ever post here :O I decided I wished to share some of my personal head cannons and theories about my favorite ride in the world: Phantom Manor!

Mélanie was born into what seemed to be the richest family in Arizona, the Ravenswood Family. Now you’d think being born into such a wealthy family came with lavish gifts, and loving parents! But this was far from it for poor little Mélanie Ravenswood. Her parents constantly argued non-stop. . . it seemed like every hour and every minute of the day they always argued! Which led to poor Mélanie not getting much attention. She’d often play with Anna or Jasper, on some occasions she’d sit in her father's office and play just to be close to him but it always led to her being escorted out. Mélanie soon grew to learn that the best thing to do is to keep to yourself and always try to please people. On very rare occasions, Martha and Henry went out! To different states. . . or different countries even! One thing they both agreed on was they couldn’t just leave Mélanie at home with the maids and expect her to be all fine. . . a certain family would have to watch over their precious little girl. So on an upcoming trip, they packed little Melanie’s bags and the three of them went on a train to none other than New Orleans! A lavish place filled with music and entertainment. . . one could be occupied for hours on end! The Ravenswood couple bid farewell to their little girl and left her standing in front of a large lavish home that didn’t look too far off from her home! It was a pretty white colour like her house yet there were large green beams of sorts and a much different layout. When she came into the home she was in absolute awe of everything around her! Various portraits of the most beautiful of woman. . . and quite handsome of man! That’s where she ran into none other than Emily Gracey of course! Melanie was in absolute awe of this woman… she was so pretty and filled with grace! It didn’t take long for the two to become best of friends. Emily took great care of the little girl and made sure she was quite content. She played with Melanie in the grand ballroom, she played dolls with little Melanie, and she even took her out into the streets of New Orleans! One day when they were out and about it was quite a busy day in New Orleans. Many were out and about just like Mélanie and Emily but unfortunately, Melanie drifted away from Emily! In distress and scared, Melanie called out Emily’s name but there was no answer! She whipped her head around everywhere to try and figure out where she could be when she came across quite a beautiful hat shop! Without a moment to spare Melanie bolted into the hat shop and was in awe of what she saw. . . so many hats! Hatty was quite curious to hear the bell of his shop chime, but there was nobody there! He peaked over his counter and looked down at the little girl in curiosity, where were her poor parents? Melanie explained to Hatty that she had come here from states away to visit some of her parent's friends for a week. She was separated from Auntie and she couldn’t find her. A wave of pity washed over Hatty and he assured little Melanie he would help find her auntie after he made some hats. He told little Melanie that if she wished to make hats with him, she could! Melanie gladly took the offer and began making hats with him. Soon after they made a couple of hats, the evening of the day approached! Hatty held Melanie carefully in his arms as he looked around town for her said auntie. . . and there she was! Emily was frantically searching for little Melanie but when he eyes came across Hatty she quickly rushed over! Not only was she quite joyful to see Hatty… Hatty also had mélanie in his arms! She quickly scooped Melanie into her arms and thanked Hatty with a flustered look on her face. Ever since those times, Melanie has always returned to New Orleans to see the two, the two who treated her like their child.

#phantom manor #haunted mansion #melanie ravenswood #henry ravenswood #hatbox ghost #master gracey

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1863-project · 2 years

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A Non-Exhaustive List of Real-Life Train References in Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks

A disclaimer before we get started here: this list is by no means definitive. There’s always a chance that something slips past me, so there’s a possibility that I’ll be editing this post from time to time. I should also note that as much as I love LoZ, I’m coming at this from the perspective of a railfan for a change, and especially as someone with extensive knowledge of steam locomotives, which is particularly relevant to this game. With that said, let’s jump into this!

This post will be under a cut due to potential length and potential future edits, as well.

Character Naming Conventions

The most obvious references in the game come from characters’ names, but they do need some explaining in places. In the English version of the game, names like Anjean (Engine), Byrne (Burn), and Cole (Coal) need no explanation, but others are less obvious - and in Japanese, they require some knowledge of Japanese steam locomotives.

Link and Zelda are, of course, Link and Zelda. Nothing new there. The side characters, however, often have puns for names. The Lokomo, the native population, all have train-themed names, as you’d expect from a group of people whose name is derived from the word ‘locomotive.’ Anjean and Byrne are mentioned above, but you also encounter:

Gage: a railroad’s width is referred to as its gauge. Standard gauge, used in most of the world today, has the rails 4 feet 8.5 inches (1,435 mm) apart. Certain countries, including Russia, use their own gauges. Gauge can also refer to the sizes of model railroad sets - HO and O are the most commonly used model train gauges in the United States, for example.

Steem: this one’s obvious, so I don’t think I need to elaborate on how steam locomotives work for now.

Carben: the primary element in coal, the most common fuel for steam locomotives, is carbon.

Embrose: a reference to embers; fuel is burned in the locomotive’s firebox to boil the water and produce steam.

Rael: another obvious one - a pun on ‘rail.’

And that’s not all - our little foamer friend Ferrus has a name derived from the Latin word for ‘iron.’ This naming pun appears in multiple languages - in Japanese his name is Tetsuo.

A few puns only make sense in Japanese. Alfonzo’s name in Japanese is Shirokuni, which doesn’t look like much to people who don’t know about Japanese railroad history. But if you break it down as “shi-roku-ni,” you might notice that it can be read C62 (in this case reading ‘shi’ as ‘C’ and not ‘4′). The C62 was a class of 4-6-4 Hudsons that are popular in Japan to this day, being the basis of the locomotive in Galaxy Express 999. The class also inspired the brothers who founded Hudson Soft to name their company, as they both were fans of the locomotive.

Another one that only makes sense if you know Japanese railway history is Byrne’s name being Diigo. This is a reference to the wildly popular D51 class of locomotives, 2-8-2 Mikados that were designed by Hideo Shima, who was later the driving force behind the creation of the Shinkansen. (Shima actually also designed the C62, described above.) If you watch Thomas and Friends, there’s a chance you’ve seen a D51...

...because that’s Hiro’s class.

Cole gets one of these, too, with his Japanese name being Kimaroki, a very specific layout of a locomotive and cars involving snowplows.

Lastly, we have the one that I’m personally most invested in, because it involves one of my favorite locomotives in the entire world. But this does involve spoilers for the endgame, so be careful reading from this point forward.

The villains in Spirit Tracks are trying to summon a demon named Malladus back to life, and to do this, they’ve separated Zelda’s spirit from her body so Malladus can possess her body. It goes badly, and the final fight ends up being Link and Zelda against Malladus - who, once separated from Zelda’s body, has possessed Cole’s body instead. Link and Zelda ultimately defeat Malladus together and restore peace to the realm. So what’s so delightful about this to me? We’re going to go back to July 3, 1938 for a moment.

On July 3, 1938, a 61-year-old grandfather named Joe Duddington opened up the throttle of an A4 Pacific (4-6-2) in England. With him in the cab was his fireman, Tommy Bray, and an inspector from the London and North Eastern Railway named S. Jenkins (I’ve seen his name listed as both Sam and Sid). This was mostly a normal run, but the locomotive, Mallard, was allegedly doing a brake test that day, so a dynamometer car was attached to the train to keep an eye on things.

The crew in the cab knew better. They had orders from Sir Nigel Gresley, who designed Mallard and the other A4s. They were going to try to take the speed record for steam traction that day. There were some interruptions, including construction that slowed them down before their buildup point, but they eventually hit a location called Stoke Bank and Mallard shot downwards towards Kings Cross in London; in Duddington’s own words, she “jumped to it like a live thing.” The speedometer crept up bit by bit, soon surpassing the English steam speed record of 114 mph set by the rival LMS, but Mallard was chomping at the bit and hungry for more and Duddington let her go, encouraging her with a “Come on, old girl, we can do better than this!”

She did far better than that, eclipsing the 124 mph record set in Germany by clocking 126 mph for a quarter mile. Mallard’s big-end cylinder failed not long afterwards, signaled by an aniseed stink bomb the crew had planted on her beforehand, and she was slowed down and taken back to Doncaster for repairs, but not before this photo was taken:

(L-R: Tommy Bray, Joe Duddington, S. Jenkins, other LNER staff; Mallard is behind them)

Mallard’s record is the official one, although other claims are out there, because Mallard was officially recorded and documented. Today her record still stands, as it was set close enough to the end of the steam era that most railroads were switching over to cheaper diesel and electric options.

Anyway, long explanation aside, Malladus was quite obviously and deliberately named after Mallard herself - in non-American releases, Malladus is straight-up called Mallard. They even made Malladus blue - Malladus’s non-corporeal form looks like this:

Compare to Mallard herself:

Mallard is a much darker blue, but it does make you think.

In-Game Controls

Now we get to the part where I actually talk about steam locomotives in general and how they work, and how this ties into the gameplay of Spirit Tracks. Now, as some of you are aware, I’ve driven a steam locomotive exactly once in my life so far, but I’m fully planning on getting certified to drive them regularly as a volunteer thing in the future as soon as I can arrange that because I took to it like a fish takes to water.

Link’s locomotives have a driving system more similar to a car, which is definitely weird to me as someone who knows how to drive a steam locomotive:

(Pictured: Alfonzo reminding Link to read his iron)

Link has very simple controls to work with - really, they combined the throttle with the Johnson bar (yes, the reversing lever is sometimes called that, I know it sounds dirty). He has four settings - backwards, which can be used as an emergency brake, the regular brake, forwards, and forwards at high speed (highballing). And of course, he has the whistle cord to blow the whistle with! These locomotives are pretty bare-bones (I don’t even know how they run since there’s no visible fuel source; let’s say it’s magic because this is Zelda), and Link is able to operate them without a fireman in the cab with him. In reality, it’s a bit more complicated than that...

I drove a locomotive built in 1924, Strasburg #90. 90, being a more modern steam locomotive than what Link has access to, has her controls separated out instead of being on one gearshift like a car. To make 90 move forward, I first had to release a “parking brake,” set the Johnson bar to the forward position, release the regular brake, and finally open up the throttle. Before opening the throttle, I also had to indicate that I was moving, which I did by turning her bell on and blowing the whistle twice - two short whistle blasts told everyone I was driving forward. Once I had her moving, I had to keep making small adjustments to the throttle (only a notch or two at a time) to keep her at a steady speed.

(A photo of Strasburg #90 I took on the day I drove her, 3/26/22.)

Spirit Tracks is not a realistic train simulator, and it was never meant to be one - it’s a Zelda game, not Trainz. Since it was a DS game the controls had to be simplified as much as possible, and making it similar to the controls of a car, something far more people will encounter in their lifetime and learn to operate, makes it pretty easy to use for most players. What I do like is that you have to navigate rail traffic and pay attention to signs and signals, just like in real life.

That said, Link is absolutely dressed the part.

(screenshot from here; this is how he appears in Smash Ultimate)

There’s actually a lot of things right with Link’s engineer uniform. He has thick gloves and closed-toe shoes to keep himself safe when working, and although generally you want to wear long sleeves it’s not uncommon to see engineers and firemen roll their sleeves up because it gets warm in the cab. The only thing he’s missing is a pair of safety goggles (I’d have added them on the cap if I was his character designer for this game). The day I drove 90, I was dressed like this:

(Pictured: the author in a pair of overalls that are a couple of sizes too big, with her driving gloves in her pockets, as she poses by the drive wheels of a Pennsylvania Railroad K4 Pacific to show how much taller than her they are. The Submas badge is on her engineer hat.)

I’m not sure why they gave Link a v-neck for the uniform shirt, but whatever, he’s Link and can pull off literally any outfit so it doesn’t matter. There’s never been a Link that doesn’t look good in whatever he wears. That’s part of being Link.

Everyone Who Likes Trains Has Met Someone Like Ferrus

Maybe you even are Ferrus, who knows.

I’ve enjoyed trains my entire life, and I’ve spent a lot of time on and around them. Like most people who enjoy trains, I like photographing them and railroad infrastructure, as well as trying to track down my favorite locomotives when I can (there’s one NJT locomotive I keep an eye on because I’m hoping to push to get it preserved when its retirement comes). And of course, I’ve now begun dedicating my spare time to figuring out how to become fully qualified to operate steam locomotives, because my one time on the throttle was the best moment of my life.

Anyway, when you’re in this hobby, you meet people like Ferrus.

Ferrus calls himself a “trainiac” (in real life we say “railfan,” at least in the United States). What makes Ferrus one of “those” railfans is that despite not having any driving experience he somehow has instructions that he has made up himself about doing passenger service himself, which he gives to Link...who has trained professionally to be an engineer. In his defense, these rules are correct, but in general it’s not cool to tell someone who’s actually trained in a field how to do their job. Luckily, Ferrus doesn’t seem to do anything more egregious than that - he doesn’t trespass on the rails, for one.

Ferrus’s main hobby, like many railfans, is photography, and he’s nearly always seen with his camera photographing trains. He also hero-worships Alfonzo and goes into a blue screen of death when Alfonzo denies being a legendary engineer and instead claims to be a legendary swordsman (i.e. Alfonzo is more proud of his swordsmanship than his driving). He keeps asking Link to ferry him about from one location to the next so he can continue his railfan activities, all the while wearing a replica uniform even though he doesn’t actually work as an engineer.

Ferrus reminds me of a lot of railfans I’ve seen and met - there are certainly some out there that act like they know more than even the actual rail staff, and whilst they might know more history, they’re not the ones operating the train and need to take a step back when it comes to that. The only reason I can talk about operating steam locomotives the way I do now is because I’ve done it once, and that was under engineer supervision. I’ve never operated one solo and I’m by no means an expert engineer or anything, as much as I want to be one and am planning to work on that certification in the future. But Ferrus’s passion does come in handy for Link in the game, because his notes on how to use the spacetime gates in-game are also somewhat correct, including a deduction on how to activate them that isn’t too far off from the in-game solution.

This Game Has A Stamp Rally?

Yes, yes it does. Stamp rallies are a common feature on railroads in Japan, and they encourage you to visit each station on the line and mark that you were there. You get a stamp book, and at each station you hop off the train, mark your stamp, and hop back on. It gives you a souvenir of your trip, and the railroad gets more revenue because people are visiting more stations, so everyone wins.

If you’re a Pokemon fan and like trains, you may have seen a stamp rally before - in the anime, there’s an episode where the Battle Subway implements one, with the reward for completion being a battle against the participant’s choice of either Ingo or Emmet. Cilan proceeds to go bonkers and do it, and ultimately due to a number of circumstances he and Ash end up having a Multi Battle against Submas and get curb-stomped because a) it’s Submas and b) Cilan somehow forgot electricity could be conducted by the metal bars in the subway car and Emmet and Eelektross didn’t forget.

(Pictured: Cilan, a green-haired triplet who’s actually a lot like Ferrus in terms of his interest in trains, holds up a blank stamp sheet/booklet for a stamp rally.)

In Spirit Tracks, Niko asks Link to fill out his stamp book for him at each location, as he’s rather old and traveling is difficult for him at this point in his life. Link obliges and receives clothes as a reward, as is usual for this sort of sidequest. The fact that they put this in the game is a nice little touch for Japanese railfans who would certainly recognize it, and it’s a cool way to introduce international railfans - and gamers - to the concept. Stamp rallies exist outside of railroad contexts, of course, but there’s definitely an association there!

Is there anything else you want to talk about?

I’m sure there will be, but for now, this is a good stopping point because I’ve been working on this post for several days. If there’s anything you think I should add, message me! I’ll be happy to edit this post - I’ve put it under a cut so it can be edited at any time!

#LoZ #Spirit Tracks #I like trains #Legend of Zelda

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solardick · 5 months

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More exploration of the bs found in tarot

The P

P and Q are opposites, as is in the state of being. R. Accordance to scripted reality, P and R aren’t all that so different. Where as R is found to be a promise as in a “balacing” of accounts. It’s a promise in that in the near future, the 3 day rule, whatever is set is then given under the star.

It represents a moment of waiting. In the unvoweled tarot, set agaisnt the layout of qwerty shows a long period of nothing after death, desire, destruction, and cursing or anguishing after the judgement, there is nothing. At the end of the line, in the distance, the hanged man is seen, suspended upside down, his head in 16. The opposite in the beautiful vision of the world. An old mans memories in the dark. The opposite of beauty subtracted from the tower is 4, the emperor.

Not to mention that P is the only letter that drops below the line while keeping its structure intact. It drops. “qp” a big long sequence of bs. The fourth world so say. Populated by the shells of humanity. Almost looks like a butterfly. As in the star. Gandalf will call the eagles.

Odd enough, to evoke curiosity, the two letters are never found together. There is always a gap. Separating the two. alot of vowels if im not mistaken. Nailed it.

Its still functional so far, the P doesn’t fit well with the rest of this sequence. Always get overlooked. Its there but, its just hanging there. Like, what?! Whatever lets slide down here. Hey look this is easier.

Further string, the sequence of nothing is still constellated. Even though three number equaling zero hovering above an empty space. When one speaks of clouds, there tends to be a falling grace. Clouds as in memory storage? Clouds as in the sky? Or a cloud body of information. Three separate ones close together. Not to be mistaken there are two others further away and out of attention. It would be a curios notion to give those clouds a consistency in structure and neatly place them in the gap.

But, perhaps it may be wise to stop calling it qwerty, for as has already being touched upon, is anything but, positive.

The strength card being feminism and represents wrestling Man for rulership. It being changed showed an initiatory first step to victory. The woman holding the crown with an added message of perpetuity. The caress easily translates to gay pride, but that seems to shout out from the sun card. The fool here achieving victory in his own death, of the past restraints, remember the devil. The third card may easily take the place of the church. The only symbol here unable to retain the zero. And yet could be said to bind the two together. At any rate balancing two balls on top of one another doesnt work out too well. Wouldnt even want to try. You already know. And yet two zeros binding is frequently given.

Card 0-15, brings it back to the devil, which will be reflecting of the sun card. And of which both equal to 6. 1+5 and 2+4 which is given to the lover(s) card. Which brings it back to 8 to justice and back down to the strength card.

I love tarot. But all they offer is this crap. My personal scripted reality for the last god forsaken given years of everything.

Spend 25 years, broken, downed, out, incapable, no comunication, suffering internal, while everyone else around doesnt care and or are too busy catering to someone else. Where nothing ever works out, and you just drift from coast to coast, starting iver and over. And the envirnoment everywhere you land is set and ready to destabilize. Year after year. Everything slowly dies along with uour spirit and your just a shell. Going through the motions, while others keep fucken around behind the lines. And where at the bass of eveything all you wanted was some human connection. But it bever wxisted anywhere year after year. And, it never ends. Becuase your serrounded by everything and your singled out because they know more than they say. And theres nothing to do with that.

Hey, i’m…oh, your one of them. Ok. Sure. So, how and i being played this time. What more tragedies await.

Ive made the serpent slowly me once. It cane back a couple times during rough periods of family care where i wore it like a skin. So heavy, dark, powerful, but lacking all mobility.

Then i got swallowed me again. But happestance high, on whatever inwas being dose with at the time, which caused extreme sensitivity. Where even the slightest cringe to something negative would be overwhelming. And then again last year. But i dosed myself with alot of toxins and put my brian out of opperation which sluggust flow at best and a constant migraine. And to come from the community this time. Which was different. Saying somethign about how they where all involved in your torment. But it didn’t hit much. More like being sligthered over by a gust of “dementor”. Didnt say anything i was already aware of. But, once that feeling or sense hits, you’re out. Its going to longer like an acid stain slowly seeping into uour blood stream. And everything you do is wrong. Even when its not.

Add that to having my psyche raped, and a childhood of bountiful sexual activity and plenty of trauma memories and destructive influneces, surrounding my family. Influneces wise. Constant. They wont lwt me get away from it. Theres not much worth seeing anything in the world. Amd not much else to do, except admire a beauty from a distance because 99% of the ones you like are there the cause you suffering. Intentional most times but also unintentionally. Its a rather troubling complex. Save me with the opposite of bs! No!

And then we got tarot circling around the “feminine” populace brainwashing its occupants into trashing half of humanity and praising the light!!!!!

And the third reich lives on.

They had to set their plan in operation. So the script was perfected and the pounced. With gunfire and death. It had to be powerful enough to create a deep lasting impression which will consistently be fed back, prolonging it through the fallowing generations. It had to create enoigh of a shock and destroy certain influences which would allow for a total reset of life being closely monitered and fed into. They told you what it was while pitting you agaisnt an enemy to destroy it. The lasting new age. The good or the bad. Cant question the bad side of it. Theres to much proof.

Rick and morty, uh? Numbercron or some crap. Gotta crunch those numbers, give sweet felacio to the number 7. Jnfinity being evil. Ok, guess im never goong to know what ots like to have a life. Thanks for hoghlting the fact that im still being raped. Ice T and the frozen tower. Nonits water T no its magma T. T is da card. T equals 7 1+6. 7 is the chariot. Hey, thise are my two birth cards. The chariot and the Tower. Im all number 7!! 7 is neptune. Drowning in bs. 7 is sunday. Or is it saterday. I dont even know anymore. Thaw that tower out!!!!! And fuck yourself.

Didn’t i just go over how shitty the tarot is? Inhave enough with the entire fucken olanet fucken taping me. I dont need my own fucken spyche to do the same. Wtf. Since my forst memory.

I dont have a choice i have to kill myswlf.

Odd how they didn’t add the white dragon, i left out. Infinity, dragon, connected to labor, to endeavoured longevity. I would like you to stop airing media about my life pls. Focus on some other fucktard. Leave this one alone. Though they did touch upon the part about clemency for the tower. With a focus on exposure. But not in an abusive way like they do it. Naturally without the bullies being pussies.

Where you’re born in hell the only place to go is deeper. Though the play on numbers brings it back to the tarot script. And we don’t want that. But the play with numbers is fun. And too inviting. And after havinng my spyche raped and formed to they desires. I dont have the base security anymore. Just bouts of suicidal depression like whats new in the last 7 years? But its ok. Cause i was given one day to feel like a healthy person. So i cant say that anymore.

Yeah im pretty sure ive been drugged again. So. Oh well another day in reality. Taking abother step to quitting smoking again. And again. Im dosed with whatever to spike my cortisal level. Oh well guess im not going to work again. Thats too bad. Ill br stuck to muself. What tragedy.

#tarot #tarotblr #qwerty #P

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violetnotez · 4 years

Text

HC: Being Super Fluffy and Giving Them Lots of Love!

Anonymous: Could I request something for Izuku, Todoroki, Shinso and Bakugo. They're doing their own thing and are super concentrated or something and reader is just so entranced by them and they're so glad to have be able to call them their boyfriend and reader just gently cups their face and gives them and the most love filled, soft kiss cause AGH THEY'RE PRECIOUS TO READER! 😭 You can totally ignore this if you don't wanna 😂😂😂 I just feel so soft rn

Ahhhhh this is adorable anon! Honeslty some days I just wanna give these babies the biggest hugs UGHHHHHH

Also I changed up my layout a little to be more “aesthteic”, so sorry it it looks different! Do you like it? Drop me a comment on this post or inbox about which style you like better (the usualllll vs. this one!)

Buy Me A Ko-fi! | Masterlist

Pairings: Izuku x reader, Shoto x reader, Shinso x reader, Bakugo x reader

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

I Z U K U

You and Izuku are having another study night, your body sitting next to his

Obviouskyyyyyyyy this boy does nothing but study smh

But you had completely given up- your brain had shut down after an hour and now you were just half listening to Midoirya mumble and half just admiring your adoarble boyfriend

You honestly miss seeing him look so domestic- you always see him in his uniform, his hero suit, and occasionally his All Might PJs on the weekends

But it feels like agessss since you’ve seen him in proper clothing

He looks just so cute in his teal sweatshirt, his scars peeking out of his sleeves as he wrote random equations on his paper

And his mannerisms are just so adorable-his tongue is poking out of his lips as he tried to work through a math problem, his eyes squinted in concentration and freckles dusting his cheeks like stars

How did you get so lucky getting someone so sweet and cute as him?

“If two goes into this fraction then possibly the variable will be isolated once I subtract the four-” hes mumbling under his breath, his voice so comforting against your ears

You lean your head against his shoulder, the scent of him just barely noticeable but so intoxicating-

AND HES SOOOO WARMMMM

“’Zuku?” you asked tiredly, a lovesick smile plastered on your face

The sound of your voice breaks Izuku’s thoughts, his brows softening as he looks down at you

“Yes puppy-oh, are you getting tired? You look pretty sleepy...maybe we should take a break-”

omg why is he so sweetttttt

You just feel so calm, so comforted with Izuku it felt like your chest was just filled to the brim with love for this boy

Without warning, you leaned up to Izuku and kissed him softly on the lips, your head feeling like it was spinning from butterflies

AHHH HE COMBUSTING TOO THO

Once you pull away, Izuku’s cheeks are as bright as cherries and you cant help but smile, cause seriosuly no matter how many times you kiss him he ALWAYS gets flustered

“You know I love you right?” you tell him, butterflies filling your stomach as he looks down at you withe wide, green eyes

COMBUSTING IZUKU IS DECEASED REPEAT IZUKU.EXE IS NO MORE

“o-of course! I-I-love you too!” he stuttered out, his nerves so intense that his tongue was like lead in his mouth

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

S H O T O

It was just one of those crappy

CRAPPY NIGHTS

You couldnt sleep, it was too hot, you were uncomfrotable, your ,ind was racing

And once you DID fall you course had a gut wrenching nightmare that left you panting and sweating from fear

WHAT THE HECK BRAIN

So time for some good ol’ Shoto cuddles

And that’s how your now cuddled up into Shoto’s side, his body keeping you nice and cool

This boy was literally the sweetest- even though it was like1 in the morning, he couldnt care less about that and just focused on you

He quickly knew something was wrong when you were waiting in the doorway, his strong arms encasing you in atight hug

“Y/n dear, are you feeling alright? Whats bothering you?”

You just snuggled yourself deeeepppp into that boy cause he felt so comforting, his voice was velvety

also how does he always smell like detergent and expensive ass cologne like yessir thats the scent for meeeee

He quickly ushered you inside his room, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly

Literally all fears from that dream melted away with Shoto- his energy was so unbelievably strong and protective, it felt like nothing bad in the world would ever happen cause Shoto was there, and he wouldnt let anything bad happen to you

Also- seeing him in a plain white tee and black shorts literally could have made you swooned, cause god this boy really looks hot in anything huh?

He didnt judge you in the slightest about the dream, just offering for you to spend the night with him

Your head was cuddled into his firm chest, that intoxicating detergent-cologne-rich boy smell making your insides feel fluffy like cotton as his hands quietly brushed the hairs away from your face

He’s ask you small question, like “Are you comfortable dear?” or “Is that dream still bothering you”, just little things to make you feel more safe and open to talk to him

Shoto never wanted you to feel like you had to hide anything from him, and the effort really showed

You were know getting sleepy but the overwhelming feeling of appreciation and love for Shoto was exploding out of you

At this point you just wanted to show your undying gratitude to your boyfriend for being so unbelievably adorable and sweet

You shifted yourself, propping yourself slightly on his stomach so you could look at his face

damn this boy really got blessed with all the good genes huh?

You ran your fingers lightly against his skin, relishing the slight changes from cool to hot, your hands cupping his cheeks and feeling both sensations course through your body

Once you felt him sigh from content, you took it up a notch, leaving feather light kisses on his sheeks, his brows, his eyes, his scar...any avaliable skin you marked with yours

“Love, may I ask what you’re doing- you should be sleeping right now, its quite late-”

“I wanna show you I love you tho...” you sent the boy a pout, a deep chuckle rumbling through his chest and vibrating throughout your body

“But I already know you love me,” he grinned sheepishly cause god your just so adorable, like a puppy desperate to give their owner attention

“Well-I still want to show you,” you stated, your voice slightly thick from sleep as you continued to kiss the rest of Shoto’s face

All this boy could do was lean into his pillow, his hands finding themselves on your waist cause he knew you were gonna do this until you were tired

He wasnt complaining though- you being cuddly and cute like this literally rocked his world in the best way possible

“You know- your very endearing when your half asleep”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

S H I N S O

Shinso is probably the most hardcore gamer you know

It was late in the night, and this guy was still going at it, now playing a game of Mario Kart on the TV, the screen bright against his features

You had gotten tired of the video games, just deciding to watch your boyfriend play instead of being the one to play

And god were you happy with THAT decision

He just looked so...adorable, his body clad in a tight black tee and baggy gray sweats, once foot straight and one foot bent as he sat on the floor playing

His hair was unruly as ever, sticking out in every direction

HIs eyes were completely enraptured by the task in front of him, scanning the screen

He was just so cute, lookking so intense yet so sleep deprived

it was adorable how badly he wanted to beat the player playing against him

And then he went a licked HIS LIPS

IN THE MIDDLE OF PLAYING

Your face erupted in red cause

OMG

HES JUST SO HOT AND PRETTY AND UGHHHHHHH

You waited unpatiently to the last round, the music picking up pace as he sped to the finish line, hes cart victoriously earning 1st place

The dude didnt even cheer, just the most self absorbed smirk plastered on his face in pride

THAT IS WHEN YOU POUNCEDDDDD

You quickly plopped yourself gently into his lap, your thighs cradling his sides

“Aww whats the matter kitten, not giving you enough attention?”

Yours hands fell against the softness of the black shirt and oh thank godddddd its so thin, your digits trailing upward and feeling the slight ridges of his muscles underneath the fabric

“No....its just- its not fair for you to look so cute while playing games and I cant cuddle you....”

“Heh, I look cute?”

This boy really cannot fathom how you find him so endearing, and now you just want to prove it to him

“Mmhmm,” you answer a smile on your lips as you cup his face in your hands

HIs hair is so tickly against the tips of your fingers, his broad chest radiating heat throughout your body

Your start to leave quick kisses on him, starting from his checks and working in towards his mouth, but not quite kissing him square on the lips

The closest you get to kissing him is on the corners of his lips, leaving electric sparks against his skin

The boy is desperate now

You cant just do that to him

“Aww cmon darling, dont tease me like that” he sends you a cocky grin, his pointer finger gently tilting your chin and pulling you into a deep kiss

SHINSO IS A GOOD KISSER FIGHT ME ON THIS

Once you pull away, your head is just spinning cause goddddd this boy is just a blessing

“Let me play one more round, and then we’ll head off to bed, alright?” he asks, his free hand now cupping your cheek

You sigh in content, your hands wrapping around his waist and snuggling into his chest, a warm, smoky smell like cedarwood drifitng to your senses and lulling you to relax

“Okay...”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

B A K U G O

“Im winning this damn bear for you-”

“Katsuki no you already wasted $15 now lets go-”

“Im WiNiNiNG. ThE DaMn. BEAR- SO SHUT IT AND LET ME CONCENTRATE >:(”

You have been standing here for 10 minutes now, Bakugo determinnneddddd to win this gigantic teddy bear for you from a claw machine at an arcade

You feel so bad about it, but honestly, its turned into a personal grudge from him now

HES DETERMINED TO WIN IT AND MAKE YOU HAPPY

While your watching him you cant help it but find him adorable

Hes wearing a plain black tee and jean jacket, something he NEVER wears but looks so good on him?

This boy could be a model fight me on this

His face is the cutest tho-

You can tell he’s absolutely pissed cause he expected to win the animal way sooner than this, his eyebrows pointed downward and his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip

and then

AND THEN

THIS BOY FINALLYYYYYYY GETS IT

He’s trying his hardest not to start cheering cause he really just did that (after wasting $25 but ya know we’ll overlook that)

Your so happy too and that triumphant look on his face just melts your heart

cause he may be a cocky asshole but hes YOUR cocky asshole

“Ha- see told you I’d win it!”

Whatverrrrrr- you roll your eyes, your hands already snuggling the big bear up to your cheek

ITS SO SO SOFT AND SQUISHY YOU MIGHT CRY FROM THE CUTENESS

Your mind is already thinking of where to put it in your room (names too??) but then you look up at your boyfriend and UGH you could literally melt on the spot

cause he looks SO PROUD and SO SOFT- his hands stuffed into the pocket of his pants as he gives you the smallest, happiest little smirk everrrrr

Your just feeling so grateful for the boy in front of you right now, that you put the teddy bear down and wrap Bakugo into a hug

Bakugo always acts like he doesnt want physical attention, especially in public-

But you know this boy lovessss to be touched, so when he returns the hug and gives your sides a small squeeze your weakkk in the knees

AND HE SMELLS SO GOOD

Always like caramel and something rich like firewood

You give him a quick kiss on the back of his neck

AND HOLY SHIT

HES COMBUSTING

Thank god the arcade is dark cause you would totally see his blush (something he will deny)

You pull away a smile on your face as you tell him thank you,

And

*le sigh

of course he ruins the whole cute moment you two had by saying, “Whatever-your the one who wanted the damn thing even though your too old for that shit-”

Just remind him of the All Might figures he secretly had stashed in his closet and he will combust again

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Taggings:

Everything Taglist:

@bunnythepipsqueak @pasteldaze @ionlyspeakinmyheroacademia @notadrian @hithoeshi @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sunnie-nugget @shoutosteakettle @we-mentally-unstable @sm0kingcrack

Izuku Taglist:

@pyrofanatic @askgiggles @ask-giggles1303 @local-space-quexn @ihavenolife842

Shoto taglist:

@teddybear-jelly @mishtimitsuri

Bakugo Taglist:

@pyrofanatic @kai-charm

Get Tagged to My Taglist Here!

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kaita0 · 3 years

Text

『O』『N』『E』- Locker Room

YN WAS CASUALLY SCROLLING THROUGH INSTAGRAM WHEN HE GOT A TEXT FROM KIRISHIMA, ONE OF HIS CLOSEST FREINDS. YN TAPS ON THE TEXT AND READS IT. AN EYEBROW RAISED IN CURIOSITY.

🐳🍔 𝔰ђａＲЌв𝑜у 💲💥

hey, the boys are going on a workout trip. Wanna join, Yuchan?

☆😡 Ⓗ𝔼ⓛ𝕝ｐยｐ卩𝕪 ✎☟

ah, sure Kiri. When will we be going?

AFTER THAT, KIRISHIMA GAVE YN THE INFORMATION. AND YN BEGAN TO LAYOUT HIS CLOTHES FOR THE NEXT DAY, WHICH WAS THE DAY EVERYONE WAS GOING. SINCE IT WAS THE ONLY DAY EVERYONE WAS FREE. AND YN COULDN'T WAIT TO BE WITH THE BOYS.

IT WAS THE NEXT DAY AND AT 2 PM. THERE WAS A KNOCK ON THE DOOR. HIS LIPS LIFT UP INTO A BRIGHT SMILE SINCE HE KNEW WHO WAS AT THE DOOR. HE SKIPPED (BUT MANLY MIGHT I ADD) TO THE DOOR. HE SWINGS THE DOOR OPEN EXCITEDLY.

KIRISHIMA STOOD BEFORE HIM, A BRIGHT SMILE ON HIS LIPS AS WELL. "WELL, HELLO THERE YUCHAN!" KIRISHIMA STATES HAPPILY, HIS SHARK TEETH SHINING WITH THE BRIGHT SMILE HE WAS GIVING TO YN. A SMALL CHUCKLE ESCAPED YN'S LIPS. "OH YEAH. IT SURE HAS BEEN AWHILE HUH, KIRI?"

KIRISHIMA NODS IN AGREEMENT. "HOW ABOUT WE HEAD OUT? EVERYONE IS ON THEIR WAY TO THE SAINT GYM." YN NODS. "JUST LET ME GO LOCK MY DOOR." KIRISHIMA GIVES HIM A SMILE IN REASSURANCE.

YN THEN LOCKS HIS DOOR AND PATS HIS SWEATPANT'S POCKET FOR HIS WALLET. HE NODS HAPPILY ONCE HE FELT HIS WALLET IN IT'S PLACE. "ALRIGHT, LET'S GO SEE EVERYONE!" YN HAPPILY STATES. KIRISHIMA PUMPING HIS FIST IN THE AIR IN EXCITEMENT.

YN ENTERED KIRISHIMA'S BLACK DODGE CHARGER PASSAGER SEAT. KIRISHIMA GOT INTO THE DRIVER SEAT. HE STARTS THE ENGINE AND TURNS TO YN. "HEY, ARE YOU HUNGRY?" KIRISHIMA ASKED YN. YN TURNS HIS HEAD TOWARDS KIRISHIMA. HIS NOSE SCRUNCHED UP AS HE THOUGHT.

"I WOULDN'T MIND IF WE HEADED TO DUNKIN," YN EXCLAIMS. THE TWO GLANCE AT ONE ANOTHER. IT WAS SILENT BEFORE THEY BOTH SAID. "THE WORLD DOESN'T RUN WITHOUT DUNKIN!" THE TWO BURST INTO LAUGHTER. "ALRIGHT, LET'S GO TO DUNKIN." KIRISHIMA STATES.

YN BEGINS TO CHEER CHILDISHLY. "BRUH, PUT THE RADIO ON!" YN TURNS THE DIAL AND THE RADIO BEGINS TO PLAY 'ACT UP' "OH! THAT'S MY SONG!" YN YELLS OUT, BLASTING THE MUSIC. KIRISHIMA SHOOKED HIS HEAD, A SAPPY SMILE ON HIS LIPS. "REAL ASS BITCH GIVE A FUCK ABOUT A-"

KIRISHIMA PULLS UP TO THE DUNKIN DRIVE THRU. HE LOWERED THE MUSIC AND BEGINS TO ORDER A BACON, EGG, AND CHEESE. WHILE YN GOT A PUMPKIN MUFFIN AND THE CARMEL CRAZE LATTE. "DOES IT TASTE GOOD?" KIRISHIMA ASKED YN, ONCE THEY GOT THEIR FOOD. "IS IT GOOD? CHILE, DON'T GET ME STARTED." THE TWO SHARE A LAUGH.

KIRISHIMA ROLLS HIS EYES. "WHATEVER, WHATEVER. BUT ARE YOU READY BRO?" KIRISHIMA SENDS YN A SNARKY SMIRK. YN SCOFFS. "OF COURSE I AM. LIKE YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO BENCH AS MUCH AS I CAN." YN STATES SMUGLY. KIRISHIMA RAISES AN EYEBROW. "IS THAT A CHALLENGE, BRO?" KIRISHIMA QUESTIONS HIM.

YN'S LIP LIFTS UP INTO A SLY GRIN. "I DON'T KNOW. YOU TELL ME."

#locker room bnha #locker room #todoroki x male reader #x male seme reader #x seme male reader #bnha x male reader #bakugo x male reader #midoriya x male reader #todobakudek x male reader #todobakudeku x reader #kaita senpai locker room

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lettrespromises · 4 years

Text

l’amour le temps d’un film. - shoto todoroki.

@aydudenoway sent a letter : ❝ 🤍✨ can i request an imagine of cuddling fluff with todoroki? like 1A is having a movie night and todo and his s/o are cuddling on the couch with a blanket? the fluffiest fluff ❞

author’s letter : ❝ dear reader, thank you so much for this request, it’s always a pleasure to write the scenarios you send me and thank you for trusting me, it means the world!! this is so, so, so cute, my heart is melting already. also, i changed the layout of my posts, idk if it’s any better but?? anywhoopsie, i hope you’ll enjoy your promised letter! sincerely yours, nikki.❞

genre : purest fluff. word count : 1.2k. warning : cursing. (bakugou)

Living amongst the rest of class 1-A came with its list of traditions. Figuring on said list were mostly trivial things- betting every night on the holy hour when Bakugou would go to sleep (the latest he went to bed was a very sharp 9:21pm and 36 seconds, resulting in Mina’s victory), every Wednesday evening was solely dedicated to self-care and all the girls of class 1-A could always be found in Momo’s room applying masks and listening to their latest musical discoveries and so on.

Nonetheless, if there was tradition which could gather everyone in the blink of an eye and without missing a beat, said tradition was the highly anticipated weekly movie night held on Friday nights. A strategic day, if you will, as it signed the end of the week and the beginning of the long awaited weekend which directly echoed to sleeping for some, taking some time for theirselves for others or train inexorably for those who knew no rest.

Every Friday nights was not so different from the previous Friday or the next one. It always started with a screaming match, the unspoken rule of the class was that the person who would scream the loudest would automatically gain the bragging rights to choose the movie. However, Iida was always quick to calm the agitated crowd under the sometimes dubitative but mostly amused stares of the crowd, it came as a second nature to him, after all.

What came as a surprise to absolutely no one, and I dare reiterate myself, no one : Bakugou won the yelling match and imposed the movie of his choosing to the rest of the already petrified class, and I quote, “We’re gonna’ watch a fucking horror movie, you wimps.” And if you were careful enough, after a closer inspection of Kaminari’s face, you could deduce that his soul had already left his body upon hearing Bakugou’s choice.

You were not particularly fond of horror movies, the gruesome sceneries always left an imprint in the back of your mind which oh so magically reappeared once you would shut your lids close right before to be welcomed into Morpheus’ arms, making it impossible to have the tiniest amount of slumber incorporated in your body. You couldn’t help but mirror Kaminari’s expression once Bakugou’s words connected to your eardrums, already dreading the cinematographic agony which was bound to bloom before your eyes sooner than you could imagine.

A few of your classmates had already organized an entire artillery to protect themselves from the visuals worthy of anyone’s worst nightmares, under the insults of Bakugou who, and I quote, called them “pussies”- a pillow found itself being the victim of Uraraka’s tight grip against her chest, Ojiro used his tail to its advantage and shielded his orbs from the screen... You, on the other one hand, had the best shield out of all your classmates.

Upon glancing at the personification of said shield sitting right next to you, you noticed that his facial expression didn’t really changed that much and you secretly admired Shoto’s ability to radiate such a serene energy off of him at all times, especially when the first few minutes of the movie had already started.

Your gaze never once left his ever so soft features, and you unconsciously wondered if this was a way to escape from the pseudo reality of the movie. Your gaze lingered, and lingered, and lingered on him. “Love, is there something wrong? Do I have something on my face?” You couldn’t help but bow your lips into a discreet grin, it was his favorite, upon the genuine concerned tone of his interrogation.

“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about, Sho. How could I say this? I’m not the biggest fan of horror movies...” It was such a trivial confession and yet, you couldn’t find the strength to look at him in the eyes, instead, your eyes darted onto your knees where your hand was resting. “Good thing I’m here then, love. Fret not, nothing will happen to you as long as I’m here.” He concluded his sentence by tracing where your gaze was hinting at, he was quick to cover your hand with his, interlacing your fingers in the process.

“For fuck’s sake, are we watching a horror movie or the new live action of fucking ‘Love Actually’? Shut the fuck up already.” Saying that Bakugou’s voice boomed at your whispers would be stating the obvious, and yet, it happened. Reflex kicked, your hands reached for Uraraka’s martyr of a pillow and threw it in Bakugou’s direction. The dull ‘thud’ echoed in the freezing silence of the room upon realization of your antics, even you, out of all people, wondered where this sudden outburst of confidence came from.

But before Bakugou could strike back, Iida’s frantic mannerisms saved the day, and possibly your life in the process, “Bakugou, Y/L/N, this behavior is far from exemplary coming from U.A students. Please behave and remain silent.” Upon seeing your distress, from both the movie and the sword of Damocles hunching over your head from Bakugou’s threats, Todoroki knew perfectly you had absolutely no desire to remain here any longer.

His arms encompassed your waist, a maneuver necessary to carefully bring you on his lap. “Sho, what are you doing?” You whispered while being even more careful about your surroundings and the possible shenanigans of the angry blonde. Once you were steady on his lap, Shoto rested his left hand upon the back of your neck, the latter emanated a divine and comforting heat- ideal to put you asleep. His other hand, however, was still settled on your side.

“I’m protecting you, from both the movie and Bakugou it seems.” Todoroki angled his left palm in such a way that it caused your head to find shelter in the crook of his neck, your cheek was resting right against his shoulder. The tone of evidence in his voice caused a chain reaction- first, you found yourself having the sweetest smile plastered upon your face, and eventually, a rosy tone spread on the apples of your cheekbones. “Thank you, Sho, you’re so sweet.”

Your voice was enough to make him outburst from joy and affection, if only you knew how much he loved you, and he secretly told himself this everyday upon seeing you first thing in the morning. You felt at peace : Todoroki’s arms were secured around your frame, the blanket pulled over your entangled bodies was a thin yet crucial shield.

“I will never let anything happen to you, not now, not tomorrow, never.” And with that, Todoroki planted a peck in which he had poured every ounce of love and admiration he held in your regard on the flesh of your cheeks. You knew that in his arms, the place you deemed as your home because you felt so safe there, nothing could happen to you- including scary movies and Bakugou’s evil antics.

#shoto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #shouto x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki oneshot #todoroki imagine #todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader

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itsevanffs · 3 years

Note

rage, rage?

My,,, war fic, yes. (Hi sorry for the wait)

I, uh, did delete like half of the outline since I posted the original post you probably got this from (and I might start over completely because i’m an idiot) BUT I’ll tell you what’ll stay the same :D ...the age gap (23 years) That’s it. Probably asjdshd

Ok, I’m kidding. It’s a muggle au, war fic, Tom is either a terrorist or a home terrorist (I can’t quite decide yet) and his goal is to go independent from whichever country I decide he’ll be based in (Britain or the USA, nothing else). It’ll probably be based in the past (the 1960s look so good but I’m personally having issues with the pesky thing called the Civil Rights Movement, especially should I base it in America (more playing ground). It’s a big thing and I’m not the right person to describe it, a white person with too much time on his hands and an attention span of ‘it interests me, 3 straight weeks, it doesn’t, 3 straight seconds’ so I might make it earlier? 50s, 40s. I do like the cars.) and a LOT of research will go into it. On the one hand I do sincerely hope that once I’m halfway through it the MI6 or FBI or whoever will start contacting me and demanding what I know because that means I write well, but on the other having to prove that it’s all inference and that I didn’t, in fact, steal army strategy plans or layouts of certain areas would be quite a hassle.

(Yes, it has happened to others.)

...while googling instances, I found that the FBI is willing to help writers accurately portray them, and have been doing so since the 1930s. This is fantastic fucking news, my day has been made, I sincerely hope MI6 extends the same courtesy. Gods, what a gorgeous world we live in. I’m literally ecstatic.

I digress. So, where Tom is a (home) terrorist, Harry is a newbie soldier in the army of whichever country they’re based in. They meet before they both slot in their respective roles, though, and while Harry leaves oblivious, Tom leaves with an enormous crush grudge. This, once they’re both active in their respective factions, this translates into a desire to make Harry Tom’s equal and opposite, so to speak, so Tom arranges it that Harry becomes the Big Power behind the counter-movement to his own so he can defeat him in a spectacular way. Of course, things don’t work out exactly as planned, and they fall in -fairy noises- l o v e. -fairy noises-

As I stated earlier, there are several ways this could play out. I’d say you simply have to sit back and enjoy anything that comes around. I can give you a snippet or two, but no promises that the end result will look anything like this.

Harry steeled his jaw, and Tom, seeing this, pulled back just in time to avoid their heads colliding painfully as Harry threw his head forward. Harry clearly hadn't anticipated him avoiding his attack, so they stayed there for a few, long seconds, harsh breaths intermingling, the smell of mint and blood mixing to something gruesomely sweet in Tom's nose. Tom's eyes wandered over the small dips in Harry's skin where scars criss-crossed over the pale expanse, following a thin white line that reminded the world of the gruesome split lip Harry had carried for weeks after the first time Tom attacked, and down to his mouth.

Then Harry tried again, and Tom only tilted his head this time, so that their lips pressed together clumsily with a bruising force. Instinctively, Tom closed his eyes, exhaling sharply through his nose, his hand raising to the back of Harry's head and trapping him in place with a strong grip. The blood rushing in his ears almost drowned out the surprised, protesting noise Harry made. Tom shifted, resting his knee on the chair, next to Harry's thigh, and deepened the kiss, mouthing at Harry's lower lip. Harry opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but Tom simply took advantage of it and traced the sharps of Harry's teeth with his tongue. When Tom finally leaned back, he felt Harry following, and gave in once again, seeing through his eyelashes that Harry's eyes had shut too before their lips reconnected and his mind went blank except for the motions. Harry sighed softly into Tom's mouth and Tom traced the tip of his tongue gently against Harry's in reply. His mouth felt cold against Tom's, and was tinged with a metallic taste that could only be blood.

The fic will be based on two poems: Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas, which represents Tom’s side of the story, and Bayonet Charge by Ted Hughes, representing Harry’s side of the story. I’ll include both under the cut. A random fact, while we’re at it: Bayonet Charge is my favourite poem of all times. I adore everything about it.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Bayonet Charge

Suddenly he awoke and was running- raw In raw-seamed hot khaki, his sweat heavy, Stumbling across a field of clods towards a green hedge That dazzled with rifle fire, hearing Bullets smacking the belly out of the air - He lugged a rifle numb as a smashed arm; The patriotic tear that had brimmed in his eye Sweating like molten iron from the centre of his chest, -

In bewilderment then he almost stopped - In what cold clockwork of the stars and the nations Was he the hand pointing that second? He was running Like a man who has jumped up in the dark and runs Listening between his footfalls for the reason Of his still running, and his foot hung like Statuary in mid-stride. Then the shot-slashed furrows

Threw up a yellow hare that rolled like a flame And crawled in a threshing circle, its mouth wide Open silent, its eyes standing out. He plunged past with his bayonet toward the green hedge, King, honour, human dignity, etcetera Dropped like luxuries in a yelling alarm To get out of that blue crackling air His terror’s touchy dynamite.

#war fic #tomarry #historical fic #harry potter #fanfic #ask

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years

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Klaine Advent Drabble 2020 - “To Tree or Not to Tree” (Rated NC17)

Summary: When Blaine tells Kurt that they're going out to "get a tree", Kurt never imagined they'd be trekking up a freezing cold mountainside to chop one down. (2820 words)

Notes: A re-vamp for the @klaineadvent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'farm'.

Read on AO3.

“Oh. My. God!” Kurt groans, hopping out of his SUV and sinking up to his ankles in snow. “I thought you were kidding about this!”

“Nope.” Blaine rounds to the hatch of Kurt’s Navigator and pops it. He unzips a duffel he brought with, one Kurt had hoped was filled with fun surprises like a picnic lunch that they could enjoy in the vehicle with the heater blasting before they braved the weather to get their Christmas tree from a quaint but upscale tree farm, the kind that smells strongly of cinnamon pine cones and which offers customers plastic flutes filled with sparkling cider as they pass over the threshold into an idyllic Winter Wonderland lit by twinkling white fairy lights beneath the cover of a gigantic canopy.

He’d dressed entirely in brands that Vogue recently featured in their center spread and had planned on snapping a few shots for the website - kill two birds with one stone. He’d even lent Blaine a few pieces he’d squirreled from The Vault. He could see the whole layout in his head. Behind his eyelids, the slideshow of images he had planned was fabulous.

But no.

Disturbingly, Blaine pulls out a wood-handled ax, along with a pair of safety goggles; thick, brown gloves; and some rope. He holds them up for Kurt to see. “Totally not kidding."

“Do we really have to cut down a tree?” Kurt asks, watching Blaine gear up, a one-man wrecking crew, leading Kurt to the conclusion that he should stay at the SUV and let Blaine go on this ridiculous errand alone.

“Yes, we do.” Rope looped over his arm and dangling across his chest, Blaine hoists his ax over one shoulder and begins the journey, carving a neat path up the slowly rising incline as Kurt follows behind, contemplating his options. He has the keys. He could definitely implement the stay behind and keep the heater company fantasy. But there is the small matter of he loves Blaine. He would be miserable and lonely waiting hours in the SUV without him. Besides, considering how well Blaine fills out those North Face pants and Carhartt jacket, Kurt sees how he can make this work in his favor. The new outdoorsman, who can go from big city to big country in the blink of an eye (courtesy of the right separates).

He’s not married to that headline, but he can hash it out as he goes.

“You do know there’s a Christmas tree farm right there,” Kurt points out, raising his voice to be heard over the howling wind. When Blaine peeks over his shoulder, Kurt throws out an arm in the direction that they came. Past the snow-covered asphalt lot, where Kurt’s SUV is currently one of five cars parked, stretch miles of evergreens, cut down and mounted onto wooden stands, waiting to be plucked, flocked, and paid for.

“Cutting down a tree has been a tradition in my family since before I was born,” Blaine says.

Kurt looks at him sideways. “I ... didn’t know that.”

“Yup."

"How did I not know that? We've been married for three years!"

Blaine turns a full circle as he walks and gives Kurt a wink. "I guess I'm just full of surprises."

"You're full of something," Kurt mumbles under his breath.

"It's a tradition," Blaine continues, unaware of his husband's grousing. "One I want to hand down to our children someday.”

“Can’t we get them a pony instead?”

“I recommend not stomping up this incline,” Blaine advises, changing the subject, “or you’re going to exhaust yourself. I’m not sure I can carry you and a tree back down this mountain.”

"Hmph. Not with that attitude, you can't."

It’s a crisp December day, almost too cold to bear. The difference in temperature between the city and where they ended up is so drastic, it’s hard to believe they’re still in the same state. A perfect day to sit by the fire while binge-watching Netflix, with a cup of hot cocoa beside a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. Kurt had everything he needed to make that happen, too, except the tree.

Kurt and Blaine had yet to have a day off together to pick one out.

So when Blaine came home, tossed Kurt a coat, and said, “Grab your keys! We’re getting a tree!” Kurt had been ecstatic! Until he discovered that Blaine’s idea of “getting a tree” wasn’t a simple matter of driving to a tree farm and picking out a decent six-foot Scotch Pine.

No.

Blaine had Kurt drive over an hour away from civilization to a place where there are no Starbucks, spotty WiFi, and no doors on the bathroom stalls.

The snow on the ground at this altitude is deep, becoming deeper as the slope of the mountain rises. And as breathtaking as the world looks from this elevation, Kurt hates everything about this. He hates the snow getting into his boots, soaking his three pairs of socks. He hates the wind that seems to purposefully sweep down the mountain straight into his face. Blaine walking ahead, right in front of him, does nothing to provide a barrier from the wind.

That’s because Blaine is loving this. And as a reward, the wind must be going right through him.

Blaine leads them deeper into woods that climb higher and higher. Even though the man who greeted them at the entrance, dressed in head-to-toe red flannel and brown corduroy, directed them up the mountain, saying this was the place locals preferred to get their trees, Blaine and Kurt don’t see anyone else past the tree line. The air gets thinner. The sunlight off the snow is brighter, blindingly bright, but it doesn’t offer Kurt or his rapidly chapping cheeks any warmth. He folds his arms over his chest and shoves his gloved hands underneath his armpits, but it doesn’t help thaw the tips of his fingers, which he can’t feel anymore.

“There are trees everywhere up here!” Kurt complains.

“Yeah! Isn’t it great!”

“Pick one! What are you doing?” Kurt gripes when they pass a swath of gorgeous trees and yet keep walking.

“I'm searching.”

“For what?”

“I’m looking for the perfect tree.”

“And what constitutes the perfect tree, in your opinion? Because from what I can see, we passed over two dozen perfect trees getting here!”

“When you see the perfect tree, you’ll know the perfect tree.”

Kurt has no idea what the heck that means but decides not to ask for clarification in an effort to get them off this frickin’ mountain and home quicker. Home equals warmth, comfort, and not succumbing to hypothermia. “Well, what about this one?” Kurt asks, pointing to a tree on his right.

“Ooo! That’s a good one!” Blaine says.

“Really?” Kurt asks, surprised that he got it right on the first try. Maybe he has a knack for this, like his knack for fashion. He does have an eye for aesthetics. “So this is the perfect tree?”

“Nope.”

Kurt stumbles. "Oh." He did not expect that answer. Eager to prevail, he points out another one. “This one?”

“No.”

“O-kay, what about this one?”

“Not quite, but good try.”

Kurt would throw his hands up in frustration, but his arms are locked in place, hugging his chest.

“How did you become the tree authority?”

“Years of practice.”

“If you’re the one with the tree picking knowledge, what am I doing here that I couldn’t do at home where we have eggnog and cable?”

“You get to marvel in awe at my magnificent strength and skill.”

“I can’t help but remind you that I could be marveling at your strength and skill at home while you hold me up against the wall in our bedroom and make love to me.”

“True. But seeing as we did that all of last night and Mr. Mulroney has the night shift tonight, I thought it would be nice if we let the poor man sleep.”

“The walls in our apartment are thin, aren’t they?”

“They really are.”

They pass through a tight cluster of trees and enter a small clearing, coming upon a scene right out of a Hallmark Channel movie. God rays shine through the foliage overhead, lighting a single tree in the center. In the quiet of this enclosed glade, Kurt can’t hear the whistling wind, and he immediately begins to feel warmer. All they need now are cartoon animals bringing them presents and an angelic choir singing carols and they’ll be starring in their own Christmas special.

It would be ideal, Kurt thinks, considering he’s a motherless child and he’s standing beside an elf. He puts a pin in it, with a plan to write up a treatment as soon as they get back to their apartment.

Provided he doesn’t lose any of his fingers before then.

Blaine tosses the rope aside. He walks reverently up to the center tree and stops in front of it. He opens his arms wide, ax clutched in his right fist. “Here,” he declares. “Here it is.”

Kurt looks at the tree in front of them, then at all the identical trees surrounding it. “Here what is?”

“Our perfect tree.”

“And what makes this tree any different from the sixty or more trees we passed hiking up here?”

“This one’s fuller, more symmetrical, with an almost pyramid top.” When Kurt doesn’t immediately agree, Blaine motions to the tree more vehemently, trying to get his point across. “It’s just more … more tree than those other trees. More Christmas …” Blaine turns to his husband standing off to the side behind him, arms crossed, head tilted. Blaine sighs. “You obviously don’t know your Christmas trees. If you can’t see why this one’s superior, I don’t know how to explain it to you.”

Kurt shakes his head. “Sorry.”

“You’ll see the difference when it’s up in our apartment.” Blaine grips his ax with both hands and gets into position. “Okay! Stand back!”

“You don’t need to tell me twice. I love you, Blaine, but I have no intention of getting anywhere near you and that instrument of death.”

Kurt takes a step back, then three more as Blaine hoists the ax behind him. Kurt fishes his iPhone out of his pocket, preparing to document what is either going to be the sexiest thing Blaine has ever done, or evidence for the investigators who might try to pin Blaine's grisly death on him. Either way, watching Blaine attempt to chop down a tree might actually be worth wet socks and a nightmare case of the flu.

Kurt holds up his phone with the camera app accessed, ready to film as Blaine takes his first swing, which, surprisingly, buries the blade a respectable depth into the wood. But it’s the pullback that gets Kurt, the way Blaine locks his feet in the snow, bends at the knees, and dislodges the ax. Kurt can’t see Blaine’s back through his coat, but he imagines the play of his muscles, the rise and fall of his shoulders, the cut of his delts showing through as they strain with effort. Kurt has seen Blaine naked over a hundred times, has watched the man make love to him in videos they’ve made. He envisions everything going on beneath Blaine’s clothes as he swings that ax … and the frigid air around him doesn't feel quite as cold anymore.

“Mmmm …” Kurt hits record and focuses his camera on his husband’s assets. After a minute of chopping, Blaine realizes Kurt has stopped commenting. He lowers his ax and takes a breather, catching the tail end of his husband's complimentary hum.

“Mmmm what?” Blaine turns, curious to see what Kurt has been doing that’s kept him quiet this whole time. He raises an eyebrow when he sees the phone in Kurt’s hands. “Are you ... recording me?”

“Maybe,” Kurt says, biting his lower lip. “You know, now that I get a good look at it, you did find the best tree on the mountain. And watching you cut it down is becoming a massive turn on. You being all lumberjack-ish is kind of hot.”

Blaine grins, leveling the ax over his shoulder. “Only kind of?”

“Well, yeah.” Kurt switches off his camera app and puts his phone back in his pocket, seeing a make-out break forthcoming. “The walk up the mountain took a lot out of me.”

Blaine leans his ax against the trunk of a tree and saunters up to his husband. “Well then … perhaps I can put something in you.”

Kurt snorts. “Okay, that’s cheesy as hell ... but I wish you would."

With a suggestive smile on his frosty lips, Blaine wraps one arm around Kurt’s waist and pulls him closer, his other hand reaching between them to fondle the bulge growing in the front of Kurt’s jeans. He tugs at the buttons of Kurt’s fly, and Kurt knows Blaine has more on his mind than kissing. He shoots an anxious look around their private nook. “What? Here?”

“Why not? We’re alone. There’s no one else around. No one will see us or hear us. You can scream all you want.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds like we're in a horror movie!"

"Is that your only objection?"

"No. I'm objecting because it’s freezing!”

“Come on …” Blaine takes off his gloves and begins unbuttoning Kurt’s wet coat, starting at the middle and working down. “I’m not going to strip us naked or anything. Besides, you’ll warm up in no time. You know what they say about body heat …”

“This reminds me of one of those bad amateur porn videos on the Internet. The ones that try to have a storyline, but the acting is so awful it turns into a comedy?”

“As a professional actor, I think I take offense to that.” Blaine nuzzles past Kurt’s icy jaw and into the warm skin of his neck. “What videos are you watching anyway?”

“I can show you. Maybe we can … you know … watch one or two … when we get home …” Kurt stutters, shivering when Blaine’s cold lips connect with his flesh, then melting beneath the heat of his husband’s tongue. Blaine walks Kurt backward, away from their half-chopped pine to the shelter of a different tree, moving them a safe distance on the off chance the poor thing decides to finish itself off without their help.

“Oh, God! Kurt!” Blaine moans, warming his hands by wedging them between the soft skin of Kurt’s groin and his growing erection.

“Blaine,” Kurt murmurs as his husband sucks a mark into the sensitive skin of his collarbone, “I just … I just want you to know that … if we freeze to death … or get eaten by a bear … I’m blaming you entirely.”

Blaine grabs Kurt’s trembling hands and brings them to the zipper of his pants. “Fair enough.”

***

“Welp. That was less than memorable,” Kurt grumbles, trying to re-button his jeans with numb fingers. “I hope that doesn’t become part of the tradition.”

“For the ninth time, I slipped!” an embarrassed Blaine says, teeth chattering, rushing to help Kurt do up his now useless coat. “I didn’t mean for us to take a nose dive into the snow!”

“Who would have thunk that fucking on ice would be dangerous!?" Kurt says sarcastically. "Christ! I must look like a wet French poodle!"

"That's ... oddly specific."

In an attempt to salvage the look he had going, Kurt tries combing his fingers through his hair but hits resistance. “Ugh! I think I’ve got sap in my hair.” He tugs and tugs, abandoning his attempts with a huff after he manages to get his fingers free … along with a sizeable chunk of hair.

“Fucking on ice,” Blaine repeats with a chuckle. “That sounds like an X-rated skating show.”

Kurt glares at his husband, unamused. “Yeah. Hilarious. Can we go back to getting our perfect tree now, Grizzly Adams?”

“I don’t know …” Blaine looks at the tree they’d been fucking against before his enthusiastic thrusting caused them to slip and take a header into the snow. “I think I like this one now.” He pats the trunk, shaking loose a minor avalanche from the branches that contains more needles than snow.

Kurt steps back, making a face as he judges the less than spectacular tree. “Why?”

“We had sex on it. That makes it ours.”

“This isn’t a department store, Blaine. I don’t think you break it, you buy it applies here.”

“I think this falls more under the guidelines of I licked it, now it’s mine.”

“I understand the sentiment, but this one’s got a dent in it.” Kurt snickers. “A dent shaped like your ass.”

“That’s a good thing,” Blaine says, walking off to retrieve his ax. “We’ll know which side to face toward the wall.”

#klaine advent 2020 #klaine advent: farm #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #klaine

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rikorene · 4 years

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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 // k. tsukishima

genre: fluff (yes, finally, fluff)

[ a/n : omg i just finished watching given and was immediately inspired to write this thing. idk if i’m gonna make a part 2, but i hope that you all enjoy it! after this i’ll be writing BNHA stuff hehe and probably change my layout AGAIN HJAHJASHAJH ]

It was just a band.

Nothing could ever change Tsukishima’s opinion on that thought, all of them were second years. He was in an active band that Yamaguchi joined in their first year, at first, Tsukishima Kei was skeptical about the concept on forming a group with people he hardly knew. A bright orange-haired man that’s in charge of the electric guitar and the vocals, a blueberry eyed boy that seemed to be arrogantly confident in everything he did back then that played the drums, a boy with freckles that was beautifully scattered on his cheeks that was on the bass and Tsukishima himself that was in charge of the keyboard.

But even if he was skeptical about everything, being cautious and all, he somehow managed to stay in the band for a year now. It has been a regular routine for him to instantly go to the studio that the previous third years rented for them when they still attended Karasuno, they were in a different band with some second years back then but they didn’t see Tsukishima’s band as a threat or as a competition. Well, maybe they saw each other as rivals. But nothing serious.

Of course, it’s normal for bands to have disagreements on some things. It isn’t something new if he found Hinata and Kageyama on each other’s throats during practice. He’d just scoff at their idiotic attempts on pissing each other off and make some snarky comment about their personalities.

Aside from Yamaguchi that would usually break them up before they destroyed the equipment that they were using, there was a second-year manager that took care of the paperworks, Yachi. She was reliable in Tsukishima’s opinion, a bit timid and sort of a push-over, but reliable, nonetheless.

Then, you came.

You were a transfer student. Someone who transferred to Miyagi Prefecture in the middle of August that came from the Kanto region. Tsukishima observed that you were pretty timid but was the type to get along with everyone pretty quickly, you sat next to him and he would catch you often scribbling in your notebook, sometimes you would doze off, and sometimes you would actually put an effort into listening to the professor’s lecture.

It was an accident that he stumbled upon you in your empty classroom, pen tapping as you sang a song. Tsukishima didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you, he was frozen in place at that time, absolutely entranced at your angelic voice. Soft, yet loud. Aggressively beautiful that held power in it. You had talent and he knew that. Yamaguchi saw his friend frozen in place at the door before peeping in and saw you, he heard your voice and was also shocked.

“Beautiful.” Yamaguchi breathed out. Tsukishima was still staring at your back as you continued to sing. He nodded at Yamaguchi’s comment. And he was smitten.

Yamaguchi talked to Hinata about how they could use a main vocalist other than Hinata in their band, he talked about the pros and benefits if he convinced you to join their band, of course Hinata would agree and Kageyama was fine with it as well, saying that they could use an extra hand, Yachi was fine with it too. And it was settled.

“[last name]! please join our band!” Hinata said as he bowed down with Yamaguchi and Yachi, Kageyama was avoiding your confused glances at him and the others while Tsukishima was just there, staring at you intensely. You were obviously surprised and flustered at their approach to you after school, you nervously fiddled with your fingers then looked at them with a hint of redness on your cheek.

“A- alright.” You stuttered out and gave them a sheepish smile, Hinata busted out and tackled you into a hug, dragging you along as Yachi followed in tow. Yamaguchi sighed in relief as Kageyama yelled at Hinata for being too rough on you.

“BOKE! HINATA, BOKE!” Kageyama fumed. Tsukishima was quiet but he was glad that you had agreed.

It’s been a few months since you’ve joined ‘Fly’ you were now comfortable with the members, keeping them on a leash especially Hinata and Kageyama. You just fit right in as Tsukishima predicted. Your kind and caring nature swayed their hearts as it did with others, normally you were the calm and mother of the group giving them the reassurance and the love that they needed for when they were feeling nervous before a gig. But among the others that craved and gained your attention, where was he? He had no greed of wanting your affection all to himself, after all, you were someone that would outshine the sun, and he was just someone that was stuck in the dark night sky.

You would constantly come up to him and help him with the keys on the keyboard as you knew how to play the keyboard and the guitar and give him some pointers on how to improve his skills as you did with the others. You were patient with everyone, always sheepishly smiling if they made a mistake while playing, not giving up on teaching them. And Tsukishima admired that about you.

Confessions were almost regular to you after all, who wouldn’t love your kind personality and your pretty face? Juniors and seniors would come up to you at least twice a week asking if they could take you out and you would politely decline, saying the right things. You would choose your words carefully before telling it to others. And he liked that.

You let out a deep breath as you nervously fiddled with the pretty pearl pendant on your neck that was given to you by your mother before she passed away, you and the band was on a stage in front of a rather large group of people inside of a large building. Over a hundred people would be watching you on stage singing a song that you and the others wrote. The others were setting up their own instruments as you tried counting down, you were nervous and Tsukishima knew that. He came up to you and placed a hand on your head.

“Focus. You’ll be okay.” Your eyes grew wide and a small blush appeared on your cheeks, your eyes avoiding Tsukishima’s as he stared at you. You nodded and Tsukishima sighed, patting your shoulder before going back to his keyboards. The action didn’t go unnoticed as Hinata smirked and went to Tsukishima and began poking at him.

“Ehhh?~ It seems like you DO have feelings after all” He whispered in Tsukishima’s ear as a vein popped on his forehead and hit Hinata on the head who just backed away from Tsukishima as he complained how Tsukishima kept on abusing him physically making you giggle.

Soon enough they got into position as the curtains rose, the crowd was clapping and cheering for all of you and Kageyama tapped his drumsticks with each other.

“One, two three!” Kageyama counted down and then you all played your hearts out. As you sang along with Hinata, the two of you holding your guitars as you both took turns in singing the lyrics the crowd as waving along the music. Tsukishima was staring at you as his fingers played along the keys, completely entranced by your passionate singing. Shit, he was falling harder than he thought.

It was after the show when the group insisted on staying over your house since your parents were away and your house was big enough to let the group stay. They all laid out mattresses on your bedroom floor and goofed around before actually falling asleep.

Tsukishima couldn’t sleep. His senses was filled with the thoughts of you. The way you smiled at him, the way you would talk to everyone in a gentle manner, the way you skipped on ahead of him when the two of you would walk home together. He was absolutely whipped.

He quietly stepped out and went to your balcony, he stared at the moon and the stars and laughed at how they reminded him of you. Your eyes would sparkle and twinkle that would make all of the stars in the sky green with envy as you would outshine them. Even if he did compare you with all of the most beautiful things in this world, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Tsukishima?”

Your soft voiced snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked back, he saw the most beautiful sight. Your hair was messy as you wore baggy gray t-shirt and sweatpants. Even if you would say that you looked like a mess, to Tsukishima you were the most beautiful thing that he had ever laid his eyes on.

“Yo.” He greeted you casually, silently cursing at how his heart was beating fast in his chest. He leaned against the stone wall and stared back up at the moon. You walked closer and placed yourself next to him, sitting on the edge as you were facing him instead of the view.

“O- oy, you could fall.” He said, grabbing your wrist as you just smiled at him, the cool January wind blowing slightly as it went through your hair.

“You would never let me fall.” You replied, he froze for a second and turned away from you.

“I could push you right now.” He mumbled loud enough for you to hear, his head turned away so you couldn’t see his slightly red cheeks.

“And I’ll take you down with me.”

He sighed and ruffled his own hair, you giggled and tilted your head up and saw the sky full of stars.

“The night sky is beautiful.” You said, he looked at you. He thought of how ridiculous it was to say such things when you were obviously the most beautiful thing in this world right now. But he nodded, humming in response.

“Hey Tsukishima.”

He looked at you, your cheeks were pink as your eyes stared at him as if he was something admirable. He would always note at how you would stare at something, if you loved that thing or if you disliked it. And right now you held something in your eyes that would make him shy away.

“I like you.”

His heart stopped beating for a second as he stared at you with wide eyes, you giggled at his frozen state and cupped his cheeks as you scooted closer to him then you pressed your lips on his gently. It took him moments to finally realize that he wasn’t dreaming and that you did confess to him and you were kissing him right now. He placed his hands on your hips and kissed you back softly.

You both pulled away and you gave him a gentle smile. He sighed and pulled you into a hug as you buried his face into the crook of your neck inhaling your intoxicating scent.

“we’re in a band you know.” Tsukishima said, noting of how band to band relationships would never work out.

You just hummed in response.

“This would probably never work.”

“Hmmm…”

“you could get hurt.”

“If it’s you, I don’t mind.”

Tsukishima sighed, finally giving in. He gave your neck a light peck as you giggled. The two of you cradled each other as you both had made each other silent vows without actually saying the words. The warmth of each other was enough for now.

Meanwhile, as the two of you hugged each other for the longest time the four idiots that were peeking through the glass cheered, they had big grins on their faces (yes, even Kageyama) as they watched your sweet exchange. Now Hinata had something to tease Tsukishima about in the morning.

[ part 2 : soon ]

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu au #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #tsukishima kei fluff #tsukishima fluff

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aasfandoms · 3 years

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Hiya, I feel like I've asked this before but I'll ask again. I'd like a bit of writing advice if that's alright with you? Just, how do you write thousands of words without making your story feel like it has too much going on or without making it super purple and wordy? Your fics always strike such a lovely balance between long and not overly detailed. I just struggle to write 1000 words without accidently writing the entire plot in one chapter, even if I try padding it out a bit, it's still too short for my taste.

This is tough to answer because honestly most of it comes with practice, which isn't always fun but is necessary. I find that I can strike a decent balance by including descriptions of the scene or items/people in it (but don't OVER describe, or describe every little thing; you want to mainly give the general vibe/description, the reader's brain will fill in details), what the characters thinks about those things, and their physical or emotional reaction to anything that sticks out.

It also helps to just... add things. Add a tiny thing that happens here and there, doesn't have to be plot relevant, just a little thing that the characters notices then moves past, or a small detail that just expands your length a little. Or something a little bigger that better reveals the characters personality or thoughts.

Here are maybe some examples that might help (featuring BkDK A/B/O);

Instead of saying something like;

"He went to the club right after work and hurried inside. After paying the entrance fee he slipped through a crowd to get to the main stage, where he waited eagerly."

Try expanding and adding some little things;

"After work Katsuki rushed home to change into something nicer than his plain civilian clothes. He chose a plain black shirt with a purple button-up over it and black pants. There was an attempt to do something with his hair, but it did not work. Oh well. He brushed his teeth, hastily wrapped his gifts, and hurried out the door. Maybe, just maybe, he sped a little too.

It was 5:45 by the time he got to the club. He left the gifts in the car and hurried inside. “Has Zuzu danced yet?” He asked the lady behind the counter who took his cash and marked his hand.

“No, but he’s up next.”

“Thanks,” he scurried inside.

It was busier than two nights ago, but that made sense. It was Friday. Every pervert in the city was rushing to the strip clubs to spend their evening getting trashed and watching sexy dancers.

Technically, he was now part of that demographic, but he chose to ignore that fact.

The bar was busy but he didn’t give two shits about getting a drink or snack anyway. Instead, he pushed his way through the crowd to get to the main stage. A pretty female Omega was finishing up her dance, so he stood back until she was done. No sense taking up space that a paying customer could occupy. Wouldn't be fair to her at all. Once her song ended and she strutted off, he pushed forward and planted himself firmly against the stage.

His heart was racing. All he could think about was seeing Izuku again."

So we've added a detour to the house to change and get ready. We added a short conversation with the lady behind the counter. We've added his thoughts/observations about the club. We added a dancing lady that created more realism and lengthened our word count.

Additionally, by mentioning the counter lady and dancing lady, we've reminded the reader that there are other people in this world that effect it (instead of hyper-focusing on our two main characters) and we've shown how our character reacted to them and thereby gave him a little more depth.

We can tell he's eager and worried about being late by the convo with the counter lady. He was polite to wait and allow the dancing lady to make more tips instead of being rude and taking a spot from someone else, showing that even though he'd very focused/eager right now he still considers others and reacts to them, rather than ignoring them.

We also didn't over-describe the club. We know it's busy, we know there's a bar, we know there's a stage. Granted, this particular bar was described a little more in a previous chapter, but the general vibe was the same; we don't need details or the layout, just the important bits.

Here is an example of showing emotion through actions, not words;

Rather than saying;

"He finally received a text back. He stopped punching the bag to check his phone. He was eager to see what it said."

Let's do this;

"The text went unanswered for a few hours. Katsuki nearly forgot about it, so lost in showing this free-standing bag who was boss. He punched it hard enough to knock it over, then used his foot to force it back up. Just as he went for another swing he heard his phone chime. He nearly tripped over his own feet hurrying over to it."

It's a little longer, has a bit more character, has a bit of humor, and we've displayed that he's so excited to receive that text that he nearly fell over to see it. I like to include small, almost silly details like that because it feels human and it tells us what kind of emotions that person is feeling without actually just stating the emotion.

Another thing I like to do is bleed the real world or certain actions with characters thoughts. Here's an example;

"Hideki was standing outside, but his attention was on the dancer. Katsuki probably could have slipped right in past him, but he opted to just lean against the wall nearby and wait. His erection had, thankfully, disappeared, and these few moments alone allowed him to ground himself a little more. Stop exuding horny pheromones, exude some neutral or pleasant ones instead, straighten his clothes, check his hair, make sure he didn’t actually have any droll on his face, look presentable goddamnit."

Katsuki is taking a moment to gather himself and make sure he looks okay and we can tell he's nervous about it by the last 3 words, in which his inner dialogue has bled into what was real-world description.

We can combine these two things as well! Example:

"His schedule was next. It was the same as usual. Patrol started at eight. Lunch from noon to one. Patrol done by five. Same shit different day-

His phone chimed and he nearly dropped his coffee in the scramble to get it out of his pocket.

“The heck? You okay?” Eijiro asked.

“Shut up,” came the venomless bite. A text. From Izuku. Exactly what he’d been hoping for. His heart hammered in his chest."

His inner thoughts were cut-off my real world events and he reacted in a mild panic. By using very short sentences we can also show that his thoughts are racing and he's anxious to see what the text says.

When it comes to writing there are a lot of little tricks you can use to both lengthen your work and make it more fun to read. These are the ones I use most. Hopefully, it was helpful, or at least readable. I'm always happy to expand on something too or offer critiques!

Don't beat yourself up about not being as good as you want to be right now either. Like I said, it takes practice. My writing style now is very different from ten years ago and significantly better, but I've written and LOT of fics since then, read a lot of fics since then, and taken in writing advice I've gotten from others. It takes time to improve but that's no reason to stress! Have fun with your writing, you created it from nothing!

#a lot of little advice adds up #i hope this helps you out #let me know if you want more details or clarification!

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gll-chui · 3 years

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☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲

★彡( 𝙻𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙾𝚗 )彡★

It was incredibly late in the evening, far too late for it to even be considered overtime.

Most of the soldiers on the higher officer floor had gone home for the day, and one had turned the lights off before realizing that, yes, someone else was still there. Of course the soldier stammered with apologies even after Lieutenant Garuru accepted the first few apologies and informed him that it was just a simple mistake. It wasn’t on any sane person’s mind to stay at the military base far after the roll call for the last shift was made, star soldier or not.

He also quite liked the darkness too despite knowing that working in the dark threatened to affect his eyesight, the Lieutenant gave a flippant wave of his hand to adjust the lights so that they were dimmed as opposed to be completely off and then grabbed the freshly made cup of coffee that was sitting on his desk face. Garuru tilted his head curiously at the work that he’s put into the webpage and then shook his head slowly with a soft chuckle, a blog page, to think that he’d be inspired to make one of these after coming across Keroro’s. Still, it looked like the Sergeant was having fun interacting with friends from different universes and timelines (timelines!? What a world they live in…), he decided then and there that he wanted in on some of the action too. What kind of people lived out there? What kind of military personnel or warriors will he come across? What kind of competition even?

He had been hopping on and off from the blog and his paperwork during his slow days when he would just be given desk work, just so that he could perfect every little detail on his ‘profile’. Was it extensive? Possibly.

With a sigh Garuru leans back in his chair and raises the cup of scalding liquid to his lips to take a cautious sip, the fingers on his opposite hand tapping rhythmically to the music he put on his profile. It was hard to pick just three songs out of the massive playlist that was on his communicator but these songs will do for now. Just like the colors and the layout he’s chosen, that’s what made it all so fun: he could completely customize all of this to his liking, a creative freedom of sorts.

A clear and sudden ring came from one of the other monitors on his desk, a message from his dispatcher wondering what the hell was he doing still logged in on the military’s computer at this hour. Without missing a beat he waved his hand over the keyboard, leaning back just a little more to hold the hot mug in both hands, perfectly content when a little microphone bubble popped up on the dash.

“Nothing really. Comma. I’m just making the final adjustments on this blog thing I was telling you about earlier. Period.” he pauses to take another sip from his coffee, humming the bitter liquid down. “I will be leaving my inbox open. Comma. Just in case someone wants to send me a message or ask me some questions. Period. New Line. I will be getting off soon. Comma. Sorry for keeping you up later than usual. Period. Period. Period. Again. Period. L-O-L emoji. Send text.”

He’s not an avid user when it comes to emojis but here he’ll make an exception since he’s not technically working, again, it was far passed overtime hours and everyone was out of the higher officer floor anyways. Garuru is in the middle of taking another sip from his coffee when yet another notification appears on his desktop, thankfully his dispatcher is not scolding him, actually, they seemed excited about his blog getting finalized and offered to relay any and all other questions and messages that might be directed to him. Oh, that’s a good idea actually.

“Reply to sender.” Garuru states, bringing up a new message window, a finger running along the rim of the mug as he contemplates his response in a quick second. “That’s a good idea. Period. But for now. Comma. I think I’ll just start--quotation mark--liking--end quotation--and reblogging some posts in the meantime. Period. Send text.” With that message sent, the Lieutenant sits himself up a little straighter to run his fingertips on the small square that was at the base of his keyboard so he can jump to the tab that had tumblr still open. That was a good idea, just find some aesthetic looking pictures to reblog and ‘prompts’ to like for later maybe, just until he’s finished this cup of coffee and heads home.

They had an app for this website too don’t they? Maybe he should get that on his communicator too…

★彡( 𝙸𝚗𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝙾𝚙𝚎𝚗! )彡★

☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲

((Hey y’all, I have no idea what I’m doing but to show that I’m alive I think I’ll just scroll around and like and reblog some stuff to fluff up Garuru’s blog some more. I’ll be writing some stuff too, ‘cause why not?🤷‍♂️ Just some exploring Garuru’s life, or his work or something. But for now, the inbox is open!✨ Can’t wait to chat with y’all!!💜))

#╚»★«╝ LT in Command ╚»★«╝ (Self)#╚»★«╝ Paperwork ╚»★«╝ (Drabbles)#╚»★«╝ Honorary Soldier ╚»★«╝ (Mun)#╚»★«╝ Attention! About Ear!╚»★«╝ (starter/inbox call)#((Please be gentle NSJDKSJFN))

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ckcker · 4 years

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I Walk in Madness

Nobody has or can have all the information, but they have the requisite amount of information and agony in combination to believe they accurately see the entire thing. I don’t and can never have all the information, but still I must have an opinion that seems binding or confident. The information I selected and pressed into an opinion is now my special soul, and defines me. It must be released and time-stamped to show that at one point, I made this all-encompassing definition, which is a summary of my self and the window of all my beliefs hereafter. Elevate yourself to say, “I no longer wonder.”

I have made myself publicly available; all that the community asks of you is that you participate. To not participate is to disrespect those who put all of their time, effort and mental filaments into the ideal of community. Such a reclusive impulse should be modified swiftly but in the most holistic way if possible, it is not helpful for others. It is not helpful for you. It is, at heart, cowardly, as it turns away in fear from the difficulties involved in building a resilient, healthy and just community. It courts isolation as a comfort, when in fact voluntary isolation is the fortification of unhealthy habits and delusional or paranoid thought processes which precariously redirect the lost person away from the tough but rewarding civic duties necessary to building a fact-driven social network. If I am lonely at night, the solution is to participate. Though I walk in madness, I end up at the voting booth. A discussion takes place in which everyone pretends to know how recycling works; one inches towards integration. Recipes are shared, and an evening passes with an attempt to perfect avocado gazpacho.

I love traditional open-toed sandals. Making the body more vulnerable to the elements of the outside world shows a general dissipating apprehension. Though current events inevitably fade in relevance and thus sustained public attention, their emotional immediacy and rousing thrust are exceptionally good at forcing the under-opinionated to participate and commune with others. Opinions always coalesce under the pressure of current events, and since current events are established and projected much more widely and much more often in this era, it follows that one should have more opinions, and participate more. Of all the methods I’ve tried, the most effective and least artificial toner I’ve used is two tablespoons of rose water mixed with 1 cup of filtered water. The rose water I use is a brand from Lebanon and you can probably find it in a local middle eastern grocery store. Having a very public life no longer makes me uneasy!

I published the post and I was feeling satisfied, though very likely no other person would see it. My only patron appeared to be a woman in her early 40s with hard bangs and a diamond choker smiling in her icon’s bubble, with arm around a presumed husband and the suggestive text “Be Kind” pegged in lower left corner in hot pink with white outline. Miscellaneous background details in the icon, particularly a hanging silver streamer, communicated that at the time of the photo this woman had been at a New Years party. Her silent interpretation of my persistently scarce content was eager musing territory for me when her icon focused my attention in the midst of a wild scroll, or when her face and militarized endorsement of kindness intruded with the elegance of a twirling maple samara upon my mind during a bout of fear-walking. She made no effort to contact me, had no posts of her own or even personalized layout style, and yet she hypothetically watched me. Of course it was pointless on her end — my posts were designed solely for the tactical misdirection of algorithmic spectres, conceived and published only in order to convince those supra-wiggly archivists of instinct that I was overwhelmingly a different person. I did not want even the smallest gleak of truth to land online. This “lost mind” plan even extended to my video watching and digital window shopping maneuvers, though in the case of the former it was impossible to totally restrain myself from a true curiosity and craving to pursue certain videos. This lack of impulse control expanded even more robustly when porn entered an afternoon; it was insurmountable to search and watch against the specific desires and images I knew would satisfy me the most. Yet I tried in rapid toe dips, once spending eleven minutes on a video of a nude bodybuilder shot-putting a collection of corns and lettuces into a wall, and with no o-face to conjure.

“I walk in madness” was both my unorthodox phrase of meditation and most important sentence of self-parody. When walking around at night in a certain state, I would now and then repeat to myself, “I walk in madness.” After this I would laugh and say, “that’s dramatic.” Self-parody swooped in to dehydrate the potential mirages, delusions. But no other summary was as accurate — literally I walked in madness. From the habits of my mind, a complex system had emerged and, quite simply, enveloped my unhinged ass. I had strobe-nurtured my preferences for “the best way to think” over the last several years, so that now I was only sufficiently energized when mentally combining (1), an act of making fun of myself for feeling out of sorts, with (2), an earnest attempt at my own healing. This perverse combo made me feel very aware but rarely good. And when these thought commands then marinated in the head to a fully abusive gush, there was one more thing to consider. What was the source of that powerful sensation that took me over when I went walking alone and without a plan at night? What was it in the body that prodded me along that highly nummy snack trail of mini-catharses? What was the source of those tiny pecks of transcendence that scattered down the back of the neck when nearing the production of an abyss? That is, I did not only walk in madness because I had to, but also because it had become fun. It raveled me on a line leading to some other connection, a connection which was not to The World. It promised recognition of and commune with everything that did not matter or had not ever been confirmed to exist.

These areas were very important to pay attention to — I had ignored them for the majority of my, to be acutely real, goofiest years, it was important to know everything that was possible. This was my routine. I walked with glamour in circular patterns around less populated city neighborhoods at night, always listening to music that accentuated a spike in insane flavoring. I only chose music that had the strength to combine halo and blurred hole, it was always music that floored my sensation to its final speed. I knew I was so lucky to have built-in machinery that let me expand all of my reserves through music. It was my only advantage. It made me proud to turn inward. If my skill was extreme sensitivity, it could only flourish in its most insular and native format.

But I desperately needed new songs to fill me up, and over-listened as a resting state. I over-listened, and a night out, i.e. the sustained advancement of nightlife over several hours, was an exhausting condition for me. In a bar, I was penetrated by the old song I had heard over two thousand times before, but which now had been remixed in a contemporary style wherein synth stabs commanded by creatine hands had replaced what was once very clean, antiquated AOR guitar strumming. The popular song I had highly ignored for the length of my life, and which hearing did not provoke outrage (or even flashback to wedding dance floor) but instead perpetual indifference in me, had been updated using the most cutting edge technology to produce aural depths not possible with the recording equipment available when the song was originally produced, and which now plunged the emotions much further down and much harder. The original voice was now placed in a melancholy minefield of hysterically deep bass and plummeting, omnidirectional dynamics and, when the remix passed through the tequila that I was allowing to patrol my body, it replicated itself with viral menace to produce in me the extraterrestrial threat of a single tear.

In this instance of a night out, Rob had invited me to this bar and party that I had never been to before. Where I had expected to see more of his friends or even the endless hallway of acquaintances he seemed to be able to mobilize at random, instead I only saw Gail, revealing the conditions were such that Gail and I were the only people Rob had invited to the event. There I stood under the song, almost leaking with melody-induced sentimentality or globular nostalgia mucus. I looked across at Gail who was leaning on a wall, who did not seem to be able to observe me after our initial greeting when I arrived at the bar. She appeared to not take in much information when moved from location to location, and when looking in her eyes I did not ever get the sensation that enormous perspectival changes were part of her social rhythm. A common conclusion from a young person would be that she was fried, but whether as a condition of drugs/alcohol/trauma or some combo, there had not been any stories shared on which to focus a rock hard drama-horny eye. Though I yearned to know what details flanked the long road leading to her hellscape, I realized it was unjust since I wasn’t prepared to present the full set of demonic coordinates that had led to mine. How can one appeal with another story of lost sleep? “Awake all night” is not the story anyway, yes we know, please make your complaining entertaining. I was in the heart of the club, I understood it was not the moment to emerge brumal vapors in the form of uninteresting plot points excerpted from my very personal checklist of booboos. “Oops,” the convicted serial killer said when the public did not like the realistic paintings he made of his victims while in jail. Gurn: it was possible for the public to see horrifying paintings made by a serial killer.

Several screens around the bar played the same music video, which the dance floor area magnified via projection on the wall, so that, in the most emotional part of the bar, emotion was keyed up considerably by the illusion of entering the world suggested by the song. Rob and the bartender were near cheek-to-cheek, taking turns cocking their heads to the side so the voice of the other could enter the ear successfully over the newest Chicago house-derived, 80s-synthpop-infused rap song scorching the lair. Gail stayed against the wall, looking around but appearing totally comfortable, a woman in her 60s drinking a High Life surrounded by a different generation, I was moved. Being young is incredibly dangerous. The bartender poured Rob and himself shots and they downed them together.

Snippets of Gail’s circumstances had reached me, I knew she had been living with her son in Texas but now was essentially homeless, that Rob and Q.C. had met her at a goth club where she was hanging out with a much younger woman named Lillian. Lillian would often be run into at the goth club or other clubs and bars, flirting with Rob and Q.C., and though she was definitely younger than Gail, she wore enough makeup to sufficiently alter minds and, with the support of moody bar lighting that left certain preferred corners in medium darkness, had an age that was unrecognizable. “My instinct tells me she’s at least 35,” Rob had suggested after explaining to me the situation and after a long silence in which I didn’t respond or engage at all with what he had just said. The pause had felt uncomfortable and also unnatural after such bulbous gossip so he apparently felt it important to break the silence with this one more detail of her estimated age. I knew it would make both of us more comfortable if I said something in response to the story of Gail and Lillian but I didn’t, in the end, have anything to say, and so Rob told me he thought Lillian was at least 35, and I responded, “oh.” Lillian and Gail were good friends and Lillian would often bring Gail along to the goth club; Gail did not dress on theme. Eventually Rob learned she lived in her car and he invited her to stay with him for an unspecified amount of time. Inevitably this increased my estimation of Rob’s worldview. When he would decide once again it was time to throw trash from the neighborhood off the 2nd floor apartment balcony — for instance a decommissioned flatscreen or legless American Girl doll — Gail, watching through the open door from the beige velvet couch, would laugh once.

Rob concluded his interaction with the bartender, turned to me and explained the bartender was hot and straight, and when the bartender worked the weekly gay night they held at the bar, he would appropriately enhance his image in honor of the conventional gay male eye — pouring himself into a tight black tank top that demonstrated his tactful chest hair and relevant bicep gains was the respectful thing to do. “I’m going to dance now,” Rob said as a commanding female voice shook the establishment with its first notes.

I wandered over with him but stuck to the doorway that connected the bar area to the dance floor, watching as he threw himself, alone, into the writhing environs, quite clogged with personal freedoms. The mass of dancers sang the chorus of the song all together, the subject matter concerned a protagonist that felt jealous and sad to see their long pined after crush dancing with another girl. In fact the protagonist likely never had a chance with the person who was their crush but had built up a dream narrative in which their idealistic love with this person was nearing possibility. In the midst of such crushing circumstances, the protagonist, now left alone and heartbroken at some event they likely attended simply to engage further with their crush, has decided to dance through their loneliness despite it all, even if it will only enliven them for a moment, and for the length of the song. Rob danced “with” almost anyone he turned his body towards. Some people engaged, dancing back, and others stealthily maneuvered away. At some point it was discernible that he no longer had on shoes or socks. A girl very much liked that, drawing her friend’s attention to the fact, then touching Rob on the arm, saying something inaudible. All three laughed. I stood and watched, occasionally pinged by passing bodies gunning for the most emotional part of the bar. I watched the video on the projection screen. The female vocalist danced specifically, had short pink bowl cut hair, conveyed well-lit and accessible agony. Several bar dancers unmistakably entered a sub-orgasmic flehmen response. My left shoulder reflexively darted front and back — a significant space-grabber had brushed me by on their way to the dance floor. It was eventually revealed to be Gail. I watched her scream “YAHHHHHHHHHH!!!” as she launched herself into the crowd.

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invertedfate · 4 years

Text

Random Ask Dump - Anniversary Edition (50+ REALLY OLD ASKS!)

Going through OLD AND CRUSTY ASKS to try and chip away at the inbox. HERE WE GOOOO...

That’s an interesting idea, and I could run it by Cake, but I think it would honestly be a LOT to track from a programming perspective. Especially ‘cause killing Sans is gonna result in a “bad ending,” so to speak.

An attempt was made by Undyne to have all three hang out at the same time. Papyrus was SUPER EAGER. ...but one thing led to another and there were many messy explosions of chemicals and lots of smoke. Alphys had to step in before things got out of hand. It was all very daunting for her. Pap and Undyne are VERY LOUD, VERY AMBITIOUS PEOPLE.

I actually have some ideas of some side comics I may do at some point! :o It’s just that right now there’s a lot going on.

I need to poke Carni about that at some point. He’s just been very busy with other projects!

Clearly he’s standing on the “out to lunch” sign.

I wanna say that it’s very possible in theory. :o It probably affects them differently since monsters’ emotional state affects their magic and their physical state.

I do like little easter eggs like that, though I’m not sure where I’d fit it in atm just ‘cause I already showed Pap’s room, haha.

I made the chase theme for Mad Dummy as well as Mad Mew Mew’s battle theme. @pinewsun made the battle theme for Mad Dummy, and @thomasthepencil made the Season Dude battle theme and MD’s overworld theme. :o

That’s a really fascinating conundrum! You’re absolutely right- if IF was a standalone game, then from a writing standpoint, having more subtle implications would make sense! The reason I chose a different approach for IF is because it’s set after Flowey’s already known to be evil and I like to give different POVs rather than stick to just Frisk’s.

That’s an interesting thing, actually- both fights lean heavily on the fourth wall. Both are treated as climaxes for their given routes. It’s funny because Asriel’s fight is a lot more straightforward and less meta by comparison.

I agree! The thing with Papyrus is that he’s extremely powerful- he just doesn’t want to kill. But it’s a deliberate choice not to kill- he’s able to force his attacks to do next to no damage. He’s also pretty darn crafty, as he made the Gauntlet himself. It really is just a case of Undyne’s personal biases and concern for him.

That was a deliberate choice. :O Papyrus is very influential toward Frisk. He is best skeleboi.

Papybot loves you, anon! He just wants to feed you WHOLESOME SPAGHETTI!!!

It is possible to whistle through teeth. ...alternatively, magic. As for the music, Undertale implies that the music is heard! Maybe it’s just... a thing that exists in this world. Or it’s just meant to be a silly meta joke. I try to keep it somewhat ambiguous other than occasional nods to it. Chara’s pants are lighter because I just... felt like it, I guess? Haha. I wanted their feet and pants to stand out more from each other, so they have khaki pants. As for the Undyne fight being animated, well, this ask is old by now, but Sparks was the one who was down for it.

Well, the teaser’s been out for a long time now, but that’s the idea! It’s also why this has been in production for so long. The Determinator has some really over the top attacks (that weren’t even shown in the teaser), and Sparks animated in Photoshop. That’s how hardcore he is.

Shhhhh. Don’t give me ideas. I’m already slacking on Tem Village. :P

Sometimes I do have slumps and burnouts (see Antipode’s lengthy hiatus), but breaks lead to me being refreshed and coming back with even more enthusiasm than before!

Oh, there are a lot of these throughout the comic. For instance...

Flowey appears in a few background shots in the Ruins!

When Sans says “or maybe...” he looks at the empty flower pot. This was one of the earliest bits of foreshadowing about who created Flowey, and nobody noticed it at the time!

The MTT vending machines initially look like this but have helpful items.

And then they look like this, with an angry face and pose- Mad Dummy has possessed them!

As of Part 38, it’s been revealed that he did first meet Asgore as “Santa.” As for whether or not he knows the truth, time will tell. :o

Oh, these are excellent suggestions for calls! I’ll try to keep these in mind.

So, I believe Glyde uses the Mysterious Door motif. Jerry uses the motif in its battle theme- I believe it’s a mix of original motif and Wrong Number song?

Sans is a master of power napping. He probably gets a decent amount of sleep, though.

There are a lot of ways to interpret Pap’s lack of sleep! In IF, he can get by without it, but he also has a lot of reasons to avoid sleeping. Some reasons include productivity but also due to a looooot of heavy baggage. More on that later.

I think sleep can definitely make monsters healthier. Rest = better mental health as well as physical health, and with how important mental and emotional help is for monsters, that’s very important!

They just really like socks. Socks are warm. Socks are slinky. And googly eyes are the best. So they took on the form of a really eccentric sock puppet and sock collector. Scandalous.

It also has Alphys’ motif, as the two are the leaders of the royal guard!

I would say the lack of Asgore as an influence has left Undyne slightly less grounded? Like, she had Toriel and Gerson in her life, but her relationship with Toriel is... definitely not quite as close? Like, Toriel by that point kept people at an arm’s length due to losing multiple children (including one from old age). So, while they were on friendly terms until the aftermath of the DT experiments and the tapes’ release, it was more like mutual respect and a sorta professional relationship with Undyne admiring Toriel and wanting to spare her from more heartache.

That is a really interesting idea. While that didn’t happen, I do need to maybe revisit the grumpy dog at some point or another. He’s still a lil’ salty.

I think in terms of layout it won’t change much, but there will be new/different content for sure. :O

Mad Dummy’s base design is mostly original, but she has a wig + headband from DIO from Jojo Part 3! Fun fact: While MTT has Kamina shades, Papyrus’ goggles are loosely based on Simon from Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann in terms of color. :O

So basically, when Asriel defeated Frisk, he had the power over the timeline to reset it as he pleased- in theory. However, that power was overwhelming for him, and due his lack of understanding OF said power and one last ditch attempt at resisting from Chara, things went wrong.

There is a track that takes some inspiration from Rage Awakened. It’s not released, and it’s not exact, but it won’t be released for a WHILE. Like until the part comes out.

I think it’s just the fact that tacos are so random. Like, my biggest beef in that regard was that OG Underswap had a lot of arbitrary replacements for things in UT and not all of them made sense. Like, if Sans was to make a foreign food, ramen would’ve made more sense due to Alphys being weeb trash, haha.

Okay, so the rough timeline iiiis... Falling: - Cyan - Green - Orange - Blue - Purple - Yellow Dying: - Cyan - Orange - Blue - Purple - Yellow - Green

You know, it’s funny because this ask is super old, but that’s basically sorta what happened. :O It became a beach-themed resort.

Never forget MTT fangirl Temmie’s pool escapades.

I think Forgespring for me because I had to make the tileset myself (it took a few months, I think?), but Aquarius was definitely in the works for a while. But once I had the tileset from Fours, the rooms were very easy to design!

That woulda been pretty rad! Maybe I can find another spot for it one day, haha.

I think for Dohj, I’d have to check with Fours, but I’m certainly not opposed at some point? Right now, the following chars can take questions: - Frisk - Papyrus - Sans - Undyne - Alphys - Napstablook - Mettaton - Asgore - Chara - Flowey

Cyan appears in Part 45! :O No answer about orange for now, tho.

I do have vague ideas for Tem village. I just haven’t had time to go back and do it.

Stay tuned and you may find out! :O

Hmmmm... I had a lot of fun with MTT SPIRAL and the Determinator, tbh. They were both very time consuming, but I love how they came out! Also, buff Jerry.

Turnabout Storm. :)

youtube

It’s a really awesome fan crossover that works way better than it should. :P

None taken! We know that with headcanons, everyone is gonna have their own interpretations. These are just the voices we liked for Fireglobe Production, but everyone has their right to their favored interpretations!

Yeah, Knight Knight is one of the coolest CORE mercs in the original game. It was fun to repurpose them for Inverted Fate as royal guards. :o It made room for unique encounters in the CORE in the form of them robots- as Undyne would rather use machines than other monsters to do her work.

Personally, I see it as an Asriel motif, but I also acknowledge that at one point it WAS gonna be an Asgore motif. Toby has a habit of just using whatever music works for a scene (see sans. at the snail farm.)

I do have a few ideas, though I won’t say for what yet. :o

He’s likely made blueprints for that train. :P

It probably would just have different flavor text/progression!

So basically, I treat the starting motif for BAaTH/Power of NEO is just a “true hero” motif.

MTT is definitely major in IF! As for whether or not he’ll have a hangout, time will tell. There’s definitely more to resolve with him, though.

I’m gonna remake at least a few of the older tracks, including Regret. My goal is just to bring the OST to a similar standard of quality.

So, animated parts coming up: Part 47, Part 49, Part 50. There may be some other parts, but we’re gonna wanna scale things back for a little bit for the sake of all our sanities.

I go with both. ;)

Honestly, probably fairly similar to the bully fight in the Ruins- which is why I ultimately decided not to do one. Both fill similar archetypes, though I think if I did do a battle, I woulda still had Flowey interrupt at the end and scare them off.

It’s a very emotional scene. Far more tragic than her geno death, IMO.

Well, the main goal in that regard is the remasters (Part 9 is in progress). Otherwise, I do think these hiatuses are good for working ahead. I’ve still gotta do more work, though, because my buffer this time around is a lot smaller from the trial-hiatus buffer. Alas!

Honestly, the website is the best thing to happen to IF. It’s allowed us to do so much with the comic’s presentation that would be impossible with imgur. NORIX IS THE BEST...

#inverted fate #ask dump #asks #undertale au #behind the scenes #undyne #frisk #papyrus #asgore #sans #alphys #lore #toriel #fallen humans

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