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#why u rob him of his one personality trait
tumblunni · 7 years
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aaargh tfw this cyrus rotom theory is now all over the tags for both of them, fuckin great “he had an emotional reaction to rotom” = he fuckin had one text box of “...” “the journal is written super sophisticated for a kid” yknow like there are other characters who talk that way and might have signed a damn journal aaaargh why am i so salty tho i know if there was even the slightest potential ‘evidence’ for my own headcanons on some thing i’d probably blabber about it even if it was minor as fuck i should just be happy for these people instead of hypocritically frustrated just cos people are all ‘disproving’ a headcanon i preferred >_> im just like really fuckin pissed at nintendo if this is what they intended all along cos why u give me hope of a more interesting plot why u even make charon sign the damn thing then. why even put all this rotom stuff in charon’s lab. why not have a secret lab belonging to cyrus. like seriously friggin conservation of effort yo. there is no purpose to making “oh charon made this giant room of rotom stuff and has a rotom trading card and has a journal talking bout rotom BUT we just mean that he’s talking about a rotom he stole from someone else and the second journal is inexplicably written by someone else despite sitting next to the one he signed” like the only purpose i can see for this is if charon stealing rotom from cyrus was supposed to be some sort of actual plot, like you’d team up with cyrus to fight charon or whatever. but NONE OF THIS is ever mentioned in the main story outside of this wifi event room! and charon has NO PURPOSE IN THE DAMN PLOT and is NEVER EVEN SHOWN TALKING TO CYRUS EVER. he just gets a really anticlimactic postgame thing and doesnt even own a single pokemon because apparantly he never owned this damn rotom. and like just.. seirously.. fuck... do u not think its SLIGHTLY more cool for this backstory to go to the guy who had Literally Five Boxes Of Dialogue And No Backstory Before instead of to the guy who already had a backstory the same backstory we already know he was a good kid turned bad and seriously WHY WAS HE LIVING IN A FIDDY YEAR OLD ABANDONED HOUSE THEN ONE FAR AWAY FROM HIS STATED HOMETOWN NOTHING ABOUT THE OLD CHATEAU MAKES ANY SENSE UNLESS IT WAS OWNED BY AN OLD MAN SERIOUSLY THIS IS BASIC if cyrus rotom was always intended then u can kinda forgive me for thinking it wasn’t! I’m not just crazy deluded, nintendo should have been more damn clear and not just left it for people to theorize for a decade >_> and if they were gonna ‘disprove; it they should have just fuckin had cyrus say something to rotom, not fuckin ~magical inferring stuff from literal silence~ like the only damn evidence is that we dont see any of the other bosses talk to rotom. thats it. maybe it means something by proxy. possibly. GAHHHH im just very annoyed that i’ve composed giant friggin posts of evidence cross referencing japanese and english and hacking the game and all sorts of shit and now everyone’s more likely to believe Literally Nothing But An Elipses Text Box if it means that Popular Character can take this plot away from NPC Man fuck i already like cyrus i already think cyrus is redeemable, why not throw a bit of that moral complexity to your admins too except yknow all of them already had some degree of that and some actual purpose in the plot except charon poor fuggin grandpa, yo.. *just sits here and grumples myself into an angry cube*
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garoumylove · 2 years
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The way the OPM manga has been going...
I debated for a long time whether to write this post or not because it seems I’m the odd one out, though I know there are many people off Tumblr that think the same, but I honestly do not like how the manga has treated Garou ever since he got to the surface.
I really, really don’t. I feel like Garou has been robbed of his dignity in the manga. Much more so than the webcomic and much more than needed.
And I’m by no means a webcomic purist. Of course I have read it but it was a while ago and my issue with the manga is not because “It’s not following the webomic!! >:(” I have no problem with plot changes. But the characterisation and treatment of Garou has been...not good. 
Overall, he has been treated as a joke and humiliated over and over again. I’m not always good at putting my ideas into words. I'm very good at expressing and capturing Garou's personality and psychology in fanfiction but when it comes to just saying it straight up I struggle 😅 A Reddit user u/toringen_ made this comment a few weeks back and it perfectly summarises how I’ve been feeling:
“i still heavily maintain that the point of the webcomic arc was that garou was already tareo's hero, which is a perfectly good first step in carving out who he wants to be. and i was honestly looking forward to the manga vindicating this, but it feels so cheap atm that i can't even be happy about it.
i am once again confused as to why the manga seems so determined to make him a passive agent. compare garou saving bystanders on his way to dine and dash vs. him accidentally rescuing people this last chapter. one demonstrated intent, the other is a gag that says nothing about him. just like how him almost punching fubuki while unconscious in the manga says nothing, but him deliberately choosing to leave her alone and then lie about it in the webcomic said a lot.
i know that the series often lets characters off the hook pretty easily, but an important takeaway (i felt) was that garou had to take responsibility for who he is from now on. he can't keep letting other people's impressions of him determine who he is. garou was so afraid of vulnerability and emotional honesty that he would quite literally rather die than confess to something as innocuous and innocent as wanting to be a hero. anyone seeing beyond this veneer would be an indication of weakness, and if there's one thing garou fears, it's weakness. that's literally why he had his breakdown in the webcomic.
it's also just weird to me how this feels exponentially more humiliating for his character than the webcomic did. everyone is seeing one of his most private, repressed traits, and it's being played for laughs. the webcomic, for all its teasing, still treated his conflict with a lot of weight and empathy. it understood that garou, like literally every other character, still deserved to have his feelings treated with seriousness. i'm not getting that from the manga at all.
this just feels like such an oversimplification. garou wasn't some tsundere who tripped and fell into heroic accidents. he was much, much more than that. i have no idea how it's possible the manga has expanded his arc this much, only to ultimately feel more 1-dimensional. like he is literally a prozd sketch right now. why? for what??
edit: also, in chapter 94, after tareo intervenes, saitama asks garou to define himself. he's obviously not a monster, so what is his true occupation? that forces some introspection on garou's part, and although he doesn't respond, it's obvious that it's something he's still contemplating in the webcomic. whereas literally everyone and their mom is giving him the answer in the manga. i just feel like he needs to figure that out. he needs to be the one to accept who he is, on his own terms, when he's ready. once again, his role is being assigned to him rather than something that is organically his. that feels like the opposite of what his character needs.”
And I couldn’t have said it better myself. That chapter where he was fighting Saitama but ended up saving people over and over and Saitama teasing him about how he’s really a good guy...I literally felt pain in my heart. He’s being humiliated and retraumatised all over again, his vulnerabilities completely exposed for laughs. To be honest, as someone that went through shit ton of bullying at school for being an immigrant, being different etc, it was kind of triggering. 
His good side is his biggest insecurity and he rarely lets people see it because he associates it with weakness and he feels a lot of shame for it. So for them to keep exposing it like that while it makes him angrier and angrier feels extremely cruel to me. That’s it. I think the way they are treating him is cruel.
He was supposed to be this cold, calculating fearsome menace (on the surface anyway) and his good side revealed in a subtle way but here in the mange he’s been completely defanged. He lost before he even started since everyone was treating him like a good guy. I saw a Twitter comment on one of the recent chapters that said something along the lines of “In the webcomic, the purpose was to get Garou off the path of evil, in the manga he is prevented from ever getting on that path.” 
Not only have they humiliated and treated Garou very cruelly in the manga, they took away his determination, grit.
In the webcomic, despite knowing Garou is actually a good guy, there was a sense of danger, we were concerned, if only for a moment, that he might really cross over to the dark side. In the manga, the thought never even enters the mind because of how explicitly we’ve been told over and over that he’s good. Even his shell breaking on his face so early was a disappointment. There was no suspense at all. 
I know most people will disagree with me. That’s ok. But I love Garou way too much, with all my heart and soul, and have done so for years and it physically hurts me to see him treated like this. I just had to share that. Thanks for listening. 
P.s. I really did not like the last panel of the latest chapter. It made Garou look like some big toddler who's been put in time out. It left a really bad impression for me. I don't mind Garou and Saitama talking but that positioning and that expression just made me wince.
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oh-hush-its-perfect · 3 years
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do you think there is any significance that alex's colour scheme is green and pink? or do you think rr went "u know what this character needs? to look like a watermelon"
((Prefacing this by saying that I'm giving RR way too much credit here, but you shouldn't take anything an author does for granted— even a serial author who often makes blunders and mistakes.))
A while ago I saw a (pretty unfair) assumption that RR made it green and pink because blue and pink would be too obvious, but that his intention was obviously to reinforce the gender binary by using two distinctly gendered colors for a character with two distinct genders. Of course, they did not phrase it so delicately. No offense to whoever made that post, but I disagree.
Although that may have had to do with it, there's other things to consider. One of them is color symbolism. And oh. OH. I ADORE symbolism— especially flower/plant symbolism (Language of the Flowers and all that jazz), seasonal symbolism (there's a reason that evermore is my second favorite Taylor Swift album), and color symbolism.
GREEN
Let's talk about green first. Green can symbolize a lot of different things, and there are a few that can be applied to Alex's character. The most obvious thing that green often represents is jealousy— hence the expression "green with envy." But envy is not really one of Alex's character traits. Feel free to argue with me if you think that Alex is significantly envious. Just because I couldn't think of substantial textual evidence for it does not mean that there isn't any.
One of the traits that Alex does have is wealth. Green is the color of American currency, and since both RR and Alex are American, it's safe to take an American lens while looking at this color. Alex's socioeconomic background effects her in a big way. I mentioned in a previous post that I think that Alex's fatal flaw is her sense of entitlement. That kind of entitlement is a quality not exclusive to but common among the upper class. However, her distance from her wealthy background enhances the sense of irony in the story, which is a VERY big thing that we NEVER talk about within the fandom.
This is kind of a little thing, but it's worth noting that when it comes to Valhalla and everything, Alex is "green"— as in new and inexperienced.
The color green also emphasizes Alex's connection with nature. This is one of the parts of Alex's character that the fandom consistently underplays, which is an absolute shame. I don't think I have to explain why the color green is associated with all things natural. Alex's association with nature provides a few key things to her character:
It makes her a more well-rounded character. Another criticism of Alex I believe is totally unfounded is that "being genderfluid is her only personality trait because it influences her philosophy on pottery, which is her only hobby." I'm probably going to make another post in, like, a few minutes about why I find that argument a little silly, but the primary problem is that pottery is not Alex's only hobby. She also loves camping, hiking, and ice wall climbing (I bet y'all forgot about that last one!)
It gives her a connection with Magnus. I mentioned in a previous post that Magnus and Alex are foils, but I neglected to bring up why that also makes for very good chemistry between them. Of course, yes, they have different goals and philosophy, which is what makes them foils in the first place. But foil relationships function best when the characters also share some traits. As it turns out, Alex and Magnus share several hobbies, and one of them is a mutual love for nature. This is a very unexplored thing in fics. Start doing it more plz.
Finally, and this one's kind of minor, but the Alex's green gives her a connection to Natalie. I know, whenever Alex and Natalie are compared, either in canon or in fandom, everybody kind goes "eww. Oedipus complex." Which is very fair and true. But they really do have a lot of similarites. The green of Alex's hair and clothes connects her to the green of Natalie's eyes. It's worth saying, too, that Alex has one amber eye— and amber is pretty close to dirty blonde, like Natalie's hair.
If I had more faith in RR, I might bring up the concept of intextuality and how Alex wearing green is an allusion to The Great Gatsby and how Alex is elusive to Magnus, just like Daisy is to Gatsby. But I don't.
PINK
To give credit to the person who wrote the post I mentioned at the beginning of this spiel, I do believe that part of the reason pink was used was to support femininity. Please keep in mind that Alex dresses in an androgynous way— not that there is an actually "gendered" way to dress, since gender as we perceive it is mostly made up. But Alex's existence as a transfemme person (which I will maintain until my dying day) means that pink has a certain significance to her. A lot of AMAB people embrace traditionally feminine things because if they don't, they will not be accepted as genuine women or genuine nonbinary folks, since masculine dress is unisex and kind of the default. So Alex wearing pink probably had something to do with her gender, yes. But that's not necessarily a bad thing, and it's certainly not an unrealistic thing.
Speaking of Alex's gender in relation to the color pink, let's talk about pink's use as a queer rights symbol. Alex was RR's first character to be introduced as a queer character from the start. This was not an insignificant thing, especially in the year of our Lord 2016 (which, despite popular belief, seriously had an entirely different landscape of queer rep. Though it's commonplace now to include genderqueer characters, it was exceptional at the time— especially by such an accomplished and mainstream children's author.).
Let's go back in time to Nazi Germany. Some of you might know this, but for those of you don't this transition must seem jarring. I swear there's a point. In addition to Jews, Romani individuals, people with disabilities, and Poles (among others), gay men were victimized by the Nazis. If you're wondering why lesbians weren't persecuted, it's because the Nazis didn't see them as a serious political threat, or as a threat to the perpetuation of the Aryan race since they assumed gay women could be forcefully impregnated if need be. Yeah, ew. Anyway, much like the Star of David being used to mark Jewish people, gay men were forced into concentration camps and forced to wear a pink triangle. Years later, after the gay population somewhat recovered, the pink triangle was reclaimed and used as a symbol for gay men. Some people who were not gay men used it, too, but that's somewhat controversial since it wasn't their symbol to reclaim. When the first pride flag was created, it had a pink stripe at the top to signify sex (this was later dropped so flags could be more easily produced). The pink triangle (inverted) was used during the AIDs epidemic with the caption "Silence=Death."
My point is that this is a very important color to queer folks. Having one of the first genderfluid characters in kid's lit wear pink...... I mean, it makes sense.
The last and final thing that pink represents, in this context and in general, is innocence. Granted, this kind of connects to feminitity since women (especially white women) are often infantalized and seen as innocent— which is another issue. In any case, the use of pink to represent innocence in Alex's dress is ironic. Alex has been robbed of her childhood innocence, first by her abusive parents, then by her life on the streets, and then by her eventual death at age sixteen. But then she actually regains her innocence. At the beginning of the—
Hold on. I just had a revelation. I'll make a post about it soon.
At the beginning of SotD, Alex is acting a little childish. The most obvious example is him jumping on Randolph's bed to "make noise." Alex's life is stable and relatively healthy for the first time in the years, and she experiences something that a lot of queer folks experience: a re-emergence of childhood at a late stage.
I imagine you didn't expect a post this long. I either make essay responses to asks or I add on one sentence and post it. Oops. Anyway, I believe the mcga fandom can be more creative than calling Alex a watermelon. Here are some other (kinda romantic) pink-and-green alternatives:
Roses
Dragonfruit
Grapefruit
Cherry blossom trees
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metalbatandzenko · 3 years
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7 and 18!! Love u babe ❤️🥰
No I love YOU
7. Are there any fanon character interpretations/theories you really dislike?
I don’t see this as often which might mean I’m following the right people and might also mean it’s not as prevalent anymore, but I really dislike the interpretation of Saitama as someone who just. does not care about anything. Saitama is depressed, not an asshole. The guy obviously really cares about people, even if he has a hard time connecting with them.
18. Give a random headcanon for a character.
It’s baseball on main time.
I think Badd is a right fielder, catcher, and first-baseman, and that he bats fourth in their lineup.
Let me explain.
Right fielders need to be fast, and they need to have good hands and a great  arm. You also need to be a real team player.
Right fielders often have to sprint to catch balls, which means speed and good hands. They also need to be able to launch those balls with precision to either a cutoff (a player—usually shortstop or the second baseman—who goes to the edge of the outfield to intercept a ball from an outfielder and throw it to the first, second, or third basemen depending on where a runner is at, or to the pitcher to end the play. This is often done to shorten the time that the ball is out of a player’s control/shorten transfers and to prevent the final recipient from bobbling—it’s hard to catch a ball thrown from a over hundred feet away), or to the relevant baseman/pitcher. That requires a cannon.
Right fielders aren’t often the center of attention, unless they catch a ball and rob someone of a home run. They’re the support line. Being an outfielder (especially right fielder) means being a team player. You back up plays and get the ball back to the infield where the “action” is. Badd’s shown himself to be a team player whose ego doesn’t get in the way of the greater good. He’s willing to communicate his findings (like the marble in the Melzargard fight), and he’s happy to work with heroes who don’t rank as high as himself to get jobs done and keep people safe (the entire Elder Centipede debacle and the most recent Manga chapter)
Catchers need to be tough, quick to react, mentally quick on their feet, observant, reliable, and accurate. They also tend to be shorter (though sometimes you’ll get a tall catcher, that’s always funny bc the umpire often can barely see over them). This isn’t as clear of a requirement, but I also think good catchers need to be people person’s.
I feel like the tough part is easy enough to figure out. You’re repeatedly getting balls thrown at you at 70-90 miles per hour depending on your age/skill level. Badd is built like a brick house. This one is self-explanatory.
Similarly, catchers tend to be short and, again, built like a brick house. This has a lot to do with center of gravity. You don’t want someone who will be easily knocked over seeing as catchers spend about 70% of their time squatting. They need stability when squatting. I will say, tall catchers aren’t out of the realm of possibility. I’ve mentioned that I have an older brother before—my brother was 6′2 by the time he was 15, and he was a fantastic catcher. But it also meant that the umps would literally hold him down by his chest gear so they could see over him. Badd would not have that problem.
Action happens fast for catchers. It’s your responsibility to keep the ball in control so that runners on the bases can’t progress without having to worry about you throwing them out. You need to be able to think fast, and act just as fast. Imo—and I might be biased here—the catcher is the most important fielder. Because of their view of the entire field, they’re in the best position to predict what can and might happen, a skill that gets uncanny the longer a catcher has been playing. Badd is remarkably observant for someone who the HA writes off as unintelligent, and he’s fast to act.
In terms of reliability and accuracy, none of what I mentioned above matters if the catcher isn’t reliable, and doesn’t have any accuracy while throwing or predicting plays. You’re better off with a slightly less quick catcher who can predict plays and is reliable than a hotshot who is only on 50% of the time, because being left on the lurch with plays is harder to recover from.
In terms of people person’s, catchers, because of their position in seeing all the field, often unofficially lead their team. They call pitches for the pitcher, and keep tabs on where everyone is. Catchers often act as support for their pitchers beyond behind the plate, and have to keep their pitchers from getting in their heads on and off the field. This seems to be less relevant in pro games, but it’s especially important early on to have your catcher be stable, steady, and able to rally their pitcher and, by extension, their team.
I also think he’s be a good first baseman bc that boy is Solid, and that to me is the defining trait of a first baseman. You’re going to have people who try and truck you at first, because if they run through you and you lose control of the ball, they won’t get called out. Other times they do it out of spite. Again, Badd is built like a brick house.
In terms of batting order, the fourth batter is usually cleanup. You put three people who consistently get on base in the first, second, and third spots so you can load the bases, then the fourth batter is your slugger, so they can clear the bases again, and hopefully score you four runs. You want someone with power, who can knock the ball out of the range of the outfielders and buy everyone time to get to home base.
...I don’t think I have to explain why Badd’s a good choice for this one.
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c0untb00z · 4 years
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I would just like to clear, I don't hate the BBC Dracula 2020 Show. In fact, I actually like the idea of Dracula being set in modern times like in the show, but I would like it a lot better if it wasn't written like a fucking reader insert fanfiction.
Don't get me wrong, I love me some reader inserts every once in a while but they're meant to be on Wattpad. Sometimes, you can find really fucking good fanfictions that could genuinly be movies, but this really just feels like someone wrote an erotic fanfiction for Dracula. It almost reminds me of a worse version of 50 Shades of Grey with less kinky sex.
First and foremost Agatha Van Hesling. I actually kinda liked her personality, how driven she was and determined to never give up, but she was literally created for a love interest. In Dracula by Bram Stocker, Sister Agatha is a nun that nurses Jonathan back to health, claiming he was 'sick in the head' as he ranted of what he had seen and warning others of Dracula. She doesn't even have a last name.
However there is a Dr. Van Hesling in the book, hes dutch(???) Professor that mentors and taught(????) Jack Seward who was in love with Lucy, who was fed off of and eventually killed and eventually undead by the means of the one and only Dracula. Dr Van Hesling plays a large role in the plot of the book. He has an open mind and was able to draw connections between things that some others couldn't, as he had access to more sources and could speak to most off the charecters involved. He's the first person to present the idea of a vampire, and Lucy turning into one. Thanks to Jonathan he was able to identify the vampire feeding on Lucy as Dracula and finds out how to kill the vampires.
So basically Agatha was literally fabricataed for the sole perpose of being there, to fall in love with Dracula or something.
I know we all are horny for Dracula. I'm horny for Dracula. Vampires are fucking hot but the sexiest part of vampires is that they ya know. Kill you and are mercily and heartless. The show does show that in a lot of parts and even decapiates a nun and yeets it into a gaggle of nuns which i fucking died at. But it also, humanizes him way to much, hes literally a monster. The scene in the boat with lord whats his name really portrayed that. It was really,,,, weird cause me being a kinky fucker I don't find the particular phrases of "you're going to need to be quiet now," and " youre doing so well" that creepy and if anything a little hot but looking at the circumstance and the look on that kids face, it was like r e a l y fucked up. Which is why i liked that scene. It showed just how fucked up Dracula is.
To be fair i did like Cleas Bangs acting and casting as Dracula. He had a certain charm that was ever so s l i g h t l y off. I heard people say he just 'made up an accent' but fuck you guys its a fucking danish accent you incolent twats anyways. He could be really funny at times and i actually apprecited it.
However the casting AND acting of the modern parts is absolute shit. Ep.3 is where i kinda gave up on the show and finsihed it for the sake of torturing myself. FIRST OF FUCKING ALL LUCY i cannot fathom how P I S S E D i am about Lucy. Why did they have to make her a phone obsessed basic asshole with no regards to anyones emotions besides her own and the extent of her personality is 'getting likes on socail media is all i care about because it makes me feel validated so im gonna wallo in self pity because i was obiously written by white man in his 50s that would have made me white if he wasnt forved to throw in diversity points" like shut the fuck up steven king.
Also lucy and mina never meet??? Theyre in different fucking time lines??? Theyre friendship and love for eachother was fucking golden how dare you rob that form me and give me a garbage bag full of shit with a shiny little bow on top in its place jesus f u ck.
The cemetary scene was o k ay i gues?? I liked the little nod to the book with the bloofer lady and the concept of random sprits being undead because of unfinished buisness. But this really just felt like it was slapped in the show for the sake of going on a date with Dracula in cemetary. I actually kinda apperacted it but it just felt awkward.
Also who the f u ck is Lucy's friend? The gay one??? Like,,,, is that supposed to Arthur???? His chatecter was so fu king weird and offset he just didnt feel like he should be in there. Hes literally just there for a-50-year-old-man's-interpretation-of-young-women-now-a-days verson of Lucy to have a gay best ffriend.
Ok i not even sure if i want to talk about Quincy. It just hurts. It physically hurts me to think about how d i r t y they did my baby. His charecter is the defination of american chivalry, just as great as regular chivarly but with a little extra cowboy vibe. Quincy is jist the biggest,,,, sweet haert,, like he asked lucy to marry him in his cool american cowboy voice cause he knew lucy loved it and it always made her laugh. And even when she turned him down becayse her heart belonged to arthur, he stayed. All he wanted was for lucy to be happy and all he requested was that they stay frirnds. Hes also invovled with taking fkwn dracula although hes not a main charecter percice ly as he doesnt have any entires in the book he still has an amaizing precence and sometimes while reading the book ill be readying one of dr sewards passanges and think "huh i wonder what quncys doin. I hope hes dooin good. Cowboy vibes n stuffs" amd boy dles he do that. Everh dracula film adaptataion robs us. R O B S U S of quincy morris best scene. In the middle of dr van helsing ranting about vampires( thats basically what half of the book is. I could write a 4p minute mono louge of his rambling jesus how does sweard take note of all this) quincy litterally just walks out. And nobodg really pays any notice beside glancing ag his leave and shrugging at one anouther and going back tl listneing tl van helsing explaining his vampire fan theories quincy moris , the quincy morris from texathe untited states of the amerkca the land and the free and also cowboys.stands outside of the bouilding and pints his gun up at. Dracula whos in the shape of a fucking bat eves ddopping outside the window and just fucking,,shoots it. Now he doesnt hit it cause thatt wouldnt be as fun as brutally stabbing the fucker witja wooden stake. But S T I L L. And the fucking bullet hits the window that everybodys in anprobably causes arthur to shit himself the ppoor boy. Can you belive that theh didnt fucking flim thatfor any dracul? Now i i under stands why not put in this adaptation because quincy is only mentionsed like three god damned times. And when theh DK mention him jesusnshit they literally jsut made him some popular jock from amwrica just to conter jacks white twinky ass and then they had him propose to lucy in the middle of a fucking night club and she says yes???? Lile ok jut throw Arthur out a window then cause cause fu c k him i guess. And then after lucy dies he jjsy fucking moves ?? The only thing thta makes this version of qincy quinccy is the fu king name and fact hes from america
Ok now jack fucking seward. He reminds me of when ylu forget you had a pb&j in your back pack so in the bos after school you pull it out cause yoyr hungry and yoyr mom put WAY to much jelly on it so now its like. All obsorbed into the bread and joggy and squished. Just sad and really white. They even had some kid call him whate bread and they werent fucking wrong. His obly personality traits were ' omg i love lucy but shes a hoe ;,,,((' and being connected to Zoe.
Now last and definately least the god forbaden ending. Just thinking about it gives me a fucking head ache. So , jesus, zoe, who is agathas great niece or someshit, a d looks exactly like her (its literally the same fucking actress) is a detective lile scitist reasearching dracula. So dracula is illedatly attracted to her becasue he thinks shes like agathas reincarnation or soenshit. So he tries tk drink her blood at one point and spits it all out and pukes and sjit cause her blood is poisonous bevaise she has fucking c an c e r. So later we find out that draculas weaknesses ( the sun crucifix) arnt actually real hes just afraid of dying so he has like irration fears or some shit so for some fucking reason. They deside. Its a good iea to end the show with this:
Dracula fucking drinks all of zoes blood killing her and himself because her blood poisonus. And ghe fucking emd scene is them like,,, in the sun???? Or soemt hi ng??? And theyre naked and like presumably fucked and dracula says some shit like " its doesnt have to hurt" and i almost tore my wrist open wiith my teeth because of how shitty this ending is.
Not lnly is it disrespectful to zoe but agatha, agathas whole thing was K I L I N G. dracula she wanted him fucking D E A D she woULDNT FUCK HKM
And like just after finding out that he can be in the sunlight with out fucking dying and that crosses just make him umcomfortable or some shit he just desides to kill himself??? DUDE YOU JUST FOUND OUT YOURE PROACTICALLY MORE INVINCABLE THAN YOU WERE BEFORE AND YOU JSUT FUCKING OFF YOUR SELF ??? HE COULD HAVE FUCKING RULED ENGLAD AND SPEAD VAMPIRISM OLL LVER THE FUCKING COUNTFY AND WORLD KF HE TRIED HARD ENOUGH AND HE KILLS HIMSELF BECAUSE THEY WANTED A STUPID SAPPY ENDING
anyway if anyone actually goes through the effort of reafing my god damn eS S A Y about Dracula that i finkshed typing (im not gonna bother editing tbh) at 4 fucking am. Then thank you and please get a life
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Busy Earning (Pieces of the People We Love, Part 1.)
Description: Not many people had the chance to see a vault or to mean anything in the world of Pandora. Will a hardly built relationship in the loneliness of the desert would have the potential to change anything in the world of anarchy and chaos - or will the friends try to murder each other?
A/N: If you're not familiar with Borderlands, this series will most probably won't make any sense to you. But that's alright! I am thinking about releasing a small thing called Vault Hunters Vocabulary and I will try to explain the lore and everything used IN the story but not explained in there. Whaddaya say?
A/N 2: Also, I AM MAKING NEW-U STATIONS LEGAL AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME. So I guess this is an AU? ALSO: the Bandits, Psychos, and Fanatics will speak only in the ancient language of Vine!
Warnings: A lot of guns, violence, reader is a tough badass - not a vault hunter tho. They're badass and don't give a fuck. And Scooter is a dumb bitch, as always.
Word count: 4.5 K
Tagging: @notaliteraltoad​
Series master list:  H E R E
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It was one of those days when you took a deep breath and it almost burns your whole mucous membrane. Most of the days were like that in this particular part of Pandora, yet some of these days were too much. The desert around you was dry, the rocks were so hot that you'd burn your whole palm if you'd touch it. No plants or water source insight; it was just you, the asphalt road, the heatwave, and the complete silence.
If you wouldn't be aware of sweating like a living fuck and of the fact that your trousers were pretty bloody then, you'd most likely have the suspicion that you most likely just pissed yourself. On the other hand, you also knew that you had to be dressed from your head to your toes - if you wouldn't have every inch of your body covered, the sun would burn your skin down in a matter of minutes; that was how strong the sunlight was. It wasn't the most practical choice to cross the desert in a long coat, long boots, and a huge cowboy hat; it was, in fact, very much impractical, but you really didn't have much of a choice. That big, cowboy-ish hat became your personal trade over time - you were easily recognizable. If someone would've asked you to describe your personality, the hat itself would be one of your personality traits. Ever since you started wearing it, almost everyone was calling you the Cowboy, even if you were pretty sure that you're a woman. Why would you or any of the people you've been living in this hellhole with being obeying any of society's rules if you were leaving at the edge of civilization itself? Something like grammar and other constructs didn't have any value in the world you knew and were living in.
Back to you. You were pissed at the moment; very pissed. For some random reason, the Catch-A-Ride station near your house was off for the last three weeks and anyone cared enough to repair it. You were hunting Skags for a living and believe it or not, having the chance to get a functioning car was making your job very much enjoyable. But because anything could work on Pandora, you had to hunt down two Skags and drag them to the man living in the nearest town, where you had your contract signed.
Every single morning, you had to get up super-early to track some pack down, hunt at least two of these animals, and then drag the dead bodies through the entirety of the desert. That was the pain in your ass. To drag two damn heavy animals in that goddamn weather. Not that you had a chance refuse to hunt for that day - the meat was rotting quickly in this part of the planet and also, Pintley had quite a lot of customers he had to feed - you being one of the said customers. Also, funny enough, there wasn't that much meat on Skags. It was a doubtful business, to say the least.
A sudden, quiet mechanical noise threw you out of the train of your thoughts. It was easy to tell what was the problem since you could feel your right shoulder tensing up. - "Please no, please no." - You mumbled as you felt your right arm getting stuck and letting the bag go. A hiss left your lips as you felt the metal limb giving you a slight electric shock, sending it down your body. You sighed and sat down on one of the dead Skag's body, carefully taking the coat off just enough to reach the small panel, so you wouldn't tear the arm of your body. It took you almost half an hour of sitting there with a small wrench in your hand as you re-organized the small cabled inside as the metal whole arm was made of got hotter and hotter. Just a small moment longer and you'd burn your damn fingers.
In the end, you somehow managed to connect all the cables on the upper arm and attached the small piece of metal back on its spot again, rolling the coat back on your shoulder so it would cool down a bit. You were good to go again, so you took the bags your Skags were put in and walked forward again, dragging the corpses on the road behind you. At least, the buildings of that God abandoned city could be seen in the distance.
Hell's Cauldron. That was the name the locals gave it. The barely-a-town was raided by the bandits so often that they became more of your neighbors and maybe even friends over time. You knew a mentally unstable bandit named Bernie, who sometimes gave you a drive home - a ride from a Psycho was never a good one, but do as they say and don't look on the teeth of a horse that was given to you. You also became friends with Blind Billy, who was a better driver than Bernie and his one-man crew. This psycho was the man who always tried to buy your Skags. But you were persistent against selling them for Eridium.
Just as you thought of your favorite boys, the roar of their car could be heard in the distance as the machine got closer and closer. You smiled when you heard the sounds of their cars; they were very specific sounds breaking the utter silence around. The cars themselves were... Something. It wasn't a model rentable in Catch-A-Ride stations, so their cars were working just right at the moment. Also, this meant that you wouldn't have to the last few miles on foot, which would be simply great.
"Y/N!" - It was Billy's voice that could behear through speakers placed on the back of their car. In the next moment, the machine stopped next to you. You gave him a smirk and a nod through one of the windows. - "Ya still huntin' down those bunnies, ha? Come in, Cowboy girl, we'll give you a ride, whatcha say?" - The man opened up the door and invited you in. You gladly accepted and gave him the first bag containing a dead animal so he'd help you with dragging it inside the back of the car. Blindy threw it on the ground next to two benches before giving you a hand to drag you in as well.
"I guess I do, yeah. You know, Blindy, everybody needs a way to survive. You rob and kill, and I hunt. Everyone's doing great." - With a sigh, you sat on one of the only clean spots on the bench, getting a hold of it as you felt the engine shaking with the entire car.
"TO HELL'S CAULDRON YOU FUCKING DEADBRAIN!" - Billy yelled into the microphone so it could be heard at least miles from you. The car started so abruptly that it almost knocked you to the ground. - "Ya still don't wanna gimme one of those delicious creatures? I'm sick of eating bugs and sometimes people, when necessary, of course." - Billy asked and dragged his hand along one of the Skag's body. You were disgusted to say at least, but you also were careful enough not to display it in your expression. In the end, there was nothing to wonder about - these men were classified psychopaths.
"We've talked about this more than once, Blindy. Pay me the cash and I will give you one. If you don't want to pay for the work... Well..." - You laughed and touched the Jacobs shotgun attached to your back, sending him a clear message. - "Let's say that we've talked about this, shall we?" - "Oh, yea, Cowboy! Do ya get good money from it? I told ya I can pay ya in Eridium." - The psycho smiled and leaned in closer to you. You leaned to him as well, putting your metal palm on his mask.
"Eridium is worth only if I am a siren or if I have someone who deals Eridium to someone else. So... Do I, a), look like an Eridium dealer or do I, b), look like a siren to you?" - Your metal wrist patted the mask, and right after, you leaned away. Billy chuckled at what you've said. Eridium was an extremely valuable material - for some sort of people. If you weren't that sort of person, Eridium were just violet glowy stones in your eyes. Why would you even need that shit in this hole? The most ridiculous thing in this matter was the fact that psychos of Ham's Creek had a ton of Eridium on them; piles, probably. Hyperion jerks excavated many shafts in the proximity of your homes before they left; and while Hyperion guys were gone, the Eridium was still there and ready to get mined. You've heard that the guys from Ham's Creek, the bandit colony, were trading the stones to doubtful people for less than half of its value... But who were you to judge them? You were all doubtful people, you were all doing shady things. Any of you could be considered innocent.
"You may not be a siren, but you're ma muse in everythin' I do, Cowboy." - Blindy chuckled as the car stopped right in front of Hell's Cauldron's pub. There were seven more buildings in the city if you counted the toilette cab...  The least pleasurable place in the proximity of fifty miles radius. - "Don't ever dare to repeat that, dear God. If you do, Imma shoot your ass off, okay?" - Your laughter filled the air as you watched Blindy and Rayray dragging Skags into the local.
"I SMELL LIKE BEEF!" - Rayray yelled and threw the Skag body next to the bar. It was a greeting, a very polite one if you might add. Rayray was still learning how to grasp the rules of being police and sometimes, he really hit the ballpark. With a small smile, you entered the pub as well and nodded at Pintley, the local pub keeper, who shrugged his shoulders. - "You've been making the boys busy again, Cowboy?" - Pintley, an old man with white hair and a missing eye, asked kindly and controlled the Skag. One day, Billy's crew accidentally took out a bag with a dead human body instead of the Skag one and when Pintley wanted to cook his famous Skag goulash, he almost threw up. This time, it was really the dead animal.
"Oh, yea. And I would get the bags to the freezer as soon as possible, it is probably already grilled at this point." - With a grunt, you finally took off the coat as you leaned into and took your enormous hat off to look at Pinty. The man was still looking at the animals, trying to set an amount of cash to pay for this catch. - "That's fifty dollars for each one of them... Maybe even sixty, they're huge. Good call today, Cowboy." - He hummed in the end, opening the cash register and handled you the money. It was not much... But it was something at least.
"Something must be happening out there again, huh?" - It was a quiet, suggestive mumble as you looked at the banknotes in your palm. Pintley asked a silent "What?" because he hadn't heard about anything going on. - "I mean... Marcus Munitions charges for bullets are off the charts since Jack had... You know." - You peeked behind the bar, pointing at a slice of bread. Without you having to pay for it, Pintley gave it to you to chew on it.
To your surprise, Blind Billy nodded at you as he too leaned into the countertop. Even the bandits of Ham Creek could see that something's going on when they were buying their bullets for another raid - it cost almost two hundred dollars more. All of the things you've mentioned happened over five years ago, maybe even more. Handsome Jack, the CEO of Hyperion, was allegedly murdered by Lilith and the Crimson Raiders of Sanctuary. Since then, Hyperion Corporation was filled with social climbers who tried to become the new CEO - but before everything ended, Elpis' lunar station Helios was blown up, meaning that the days of Hyperion ruling over Pandora were over. Not that any of you would particularly care about any of that.
After that, there were some rumors about a new vault key found and about the existence of many new vaults all around Pandora and its sister planets. And as you heard, it was usually a joke, the vault key ended up in a desert where two jackasses found it. That, in fact, led to the creation of a pain in the ass known as 'The Calypso twins' and their cult; the Children of the Vault. Now, allegedly, Crimson Raiders and their leader Lilith had left Pandora and created Sanctuary 3, a spaceship flying on the orbit of Pandora.
Honestly, as far as you cared, all of this could be just a bunch of made-up stories. How the hell were you supposed to know what happened in space or on the other side of the planet? Who were you supposed to be? A fortune-teller? A telepath to know all of these things for certain? There was one sort of people on Pandora about which everyone seemed to forget - normal people. Normal people like you. Yes, people who only tried to live their lives and who owned only one gun existed. People who pursued normal jobs, calm life without all of the vault hunting business.
You've personally never seen the infamous Handsome Jack (only his posters and billboards) or the alleged vault hunters scattering through Pandora, searching for new things to kill and new loot to find. You never have seen Lilith, Roland, or any of the Crimson Raiders with your eyes, nor you've visited Sanctuary, Haven, New Haven, or Helios - and you surely had not visited the Concordia spaceship. You never saw any of those rumors for yourself, thus, you didn't know what was real or fake.
"Look at it like this, Pintley... The Catch-A-Ride stations aren't working in this part of Pandora for God knows how long and now, Marcus is charging up for rounds again? The last time he did that when the last bunch of the vault hunters came to Pandora? I tell you, something's going on." - Now, you rose your eyebrows and stopped everything you were doing. A loud bang blasted through the Hell's Cauldron. There was silence for a moment, but then a loud song started to play. With a long sigh, each of you stood up and grabbed their gun to get ready for a fight. The Children of the Vault decided to pay you a late-afternoon visit.
This, unfortunately, meant a shootout in the middle of the sun-parched square of the Hell's Cauldron just for the laughs. Those guys were just fine most of the time, but on some days, they came to the town and all they wanted to do was fight with guns blazing. By now, you all knew the drill - a short shootout while letting them spawn back in their base and then, you could continue with your daily program.
No matter what you told those jackasses, no matter what you did, no matter anything - they just drove into the sun-parched square and started to shoot. They were idiots without a single functioning brain between them, to say at least. To your good luck, Blindy and Rayray were on your side. These two were pretty reasonable bandits. Billy was also unusually smart for living with psychos, midgets, and more for as long as he did, yet he still kept his brain working.
The shooting which happened in Hell's Cauldron that day was louder than usual. Maybe it was just the way you've been laughing or the COV's new summer playlist, but this one was unusually loud. People were throwing grenades just as they were yelling some nasty words at each other. Some of them dropped dead in a matter of seconds because they were just standing in plain open. A car blew up accidentally, the trunk almost hitting you in your face and the face. When everything was done, there was only you, Rayray, and Pintley standing in the settling dust. You and Pintley were usually a great team - since he had a slag sniper rifle and you had an orange tier Jacobs shotgun, you were good to go any time. The rest of the COVs slowly disappeared - they started spawning at the New-U stations back in their small cultist town fifty miles away from Hell's Cauldron.
But something wasn't right. Blindy was still laying on the ground, bleeding out with a blank stare. His body wasn't moving and there were even small droplets of blood as he coughed before he passed away. This wasn't supposed to happen. As you approached the body, you've been growing through how did you get into the town in the first place. You've driven in our of the eastern exist, which meant you've driven around a checkpoint. That led you to a conclusion that the Hyperion Checkpoint Station, those were all over Pandora, must've written his biometrical data down. Blindy was somewhere inside the database, hidden in the code; but New-U station wasn't, for a reason, reconstructing his physical body.
"What's going on? Why isn't he respawning, Pintley? Don't you tell me that he wasn't registered by the Checkpoint." - Without giving a single fuck about the blood and dust, you kneeled and took off Blindy's mask to look into his scarred, lifeless fave. He wasn't the most handsome lad you've seen, but he had a good heart and that was all you cared about. - "Billy, man, don't you play games with me now. Get the fuck up, man. Come on." - You begged silently. You couldn't lose him because of a routine shootout. You've survived hundreds of these - he was a good bandit, a good friend, and a significantly good gunman.
"I think the New-U is cut out of the electric network, Cowboy." - Pintley yelled at you, while Rayray was opening the database in the Checkpoint station next to the pub. - "We might as well put it back to use. Stop with the nonsense and get to work, come on!"
The New-U stations and Checkpoints were a special thing that Pandora needed to have any population surviving on it. It all started way back when Atlas, Dahl, Hyperion, and many more were supporting the golden era of vault hunting; those hunters got their own Echo devices to stay in touch all the time and in case they'd accidentally die or dismember, the New-U stations were meant to render a new body for them. As soon as you arrived or was born in this sector of the universe, the corporation implanted a chip to the nape of your neck; you wouldn't respawn only in the case someone would be using jammer or took the chip out of your body. There was a whole lot of things that could get you killed - psycho in a bad mood, hungry Skag, angry friend, bad food, accidental fall into a volcano... You could choose, really. Sometimes, it could take a while to respawn, it also cost you some money, and before the transaction was sent... It could be a whole lot at times.
Since there were no laws and anarchy and chaos ruled the planet hand by hand, this system came in handy at all times. The Checkpoint stations were the smaller ones, saving up your data like DNA and memories to have all of your personal information in the systems in case anything happened to you. New-U was able to resurrect a person after paying said charge - they constructed your body from the DNA and cells of your dead body, implanted the memories back into your brain, and even construed the clothes you had on. It was truly a miracle of modern age science - but also a necessity for Pandora and its moon Elpis.
Rayray nodded when he read Billy's name in the database. He was there; he was there, safe and sound. You only had to make the New-U work. Without giving any fuck, you just threw the dead and useless body on the ground, walking to the machine, next to Pintley, to look at the cables leading out of the back of the machine to the charger on the wall.
Luckily, you were quite handy with this sort of stuff. Really, you had to restore the electricity circuits inside your metallic arm; handily, you opened up the machine and started to work on it, searching for the problem. Pintley was kneeling next to you, so you were only telling him what you needed - like a wrench or a hammer - and he fetched it to you. New-U was mostly unused in Hell's Cauldron, so it was really no wonder that it wasn't working; it was out of order for quite some time now. If Blindy wouldn't have died, you wouldn't even notice the malfunctioning machine.
It probably was out of order for the last five years - since the last time Bandits provoked a gunfight was... You couldn't even remember. Maybe, Pintley himself pulled the cables out; you wouldn't let the electricity bill getting bigger if you hadn't need for letting the New-U running, right? The Calypso fanatics couldn't be considered a threat at all. Each of them was dumb and couldn't shoot for shit, so the only ones getting killed were them. Even more so, they usually started to talk about some of their damn fanatic nonsense in the middle of the fight. In the beginning, you listened to those jackshit rambles; then you just murdered them without blinking. It wasn't that easy. Rayray looked at you from the database's screen. Bandits, believe it or not, were sometimes pretty smart. Yes, they had their bright moments. The only thing they couldn't do was to speak like a normal human being.
"THAT HURTS LIKE A BUTTCHEEK ON A STICK!" - Rayray yelled at you and you furrowed - it was too late to stop the respawning process since the machine started barking loudly in front of you as it came back to life. What did he say? Someone else was written down in the system except the normies of Hell's Cauldron? You looked over to the bandit boy, but it was too late to pull the cable; the New-U already started to build a human being. And that person definitely wasn't Billy. You made Pintley step back since he hadn't any gun on him and took out your Jacobs shotgun again, pointing at the stranger. The man, it definitely was a man, was looking at his hands in wonder, opening his palms, closing them right after, playing with his fingers. He slowly pulled an Oz kid used in the vacuum off the back of his head, so he could take some normal, hot breath into his lungs. The breather was old as hell, probably six to seven years to your estimations (given it was an ultra-old Vladof Oz it). Who was that man, you didn't know at all; you just assumed he must've been dead for quite some time.
The Hyperion nice-ass lady was telling him something, but she couldn't quite finish her speech - Billy started rendering right next to the man. You exhaled and thanked God for Billy, but you didn't let the mysterious man go out of your sight - you didn't know who he was, what his intentions were, or if he was a bad guy or not. The only thing you could clearly tell was that the man was super-happy to be alive. "I'm alive! I'm alive! Would ya believe it, man, I'm alive, breathin' and stuff and I'm feelin' just fine!" - The stranger exclaimed and looked over to you. - "Wait... Wait. Man, man, ya not Lilith or Moxxi or one of their vault hunters. Who are ya?" - He tried to come closer to you, for some reason, so you only rose the barrel of the shotgun and watched the small laser light hovering on his forehead.
"Ya not any friendly folks, ha?" - The man asked and laughed your barrel off as if he barely noticed the danger he was in. There was... Something about him. You felt like you knew him from somewhere. That face was basically burned deep into your brain and it was so detailed, that it was freaking you out like shit. Those eyes, sharp lips... But his name was a remaining mystery to you; not for too long, unfortunately. - "Hey, name's Scooter. Ya know me. Most of the folks on Pandora do." - With that, he offered you a palm to shake, and because of that, you took the barrel of your shotgun down from his forehead. Scooter. Scooter. That face, that name... Jesus that man was reminding you of someone and you couldn't just remember who. Eyeing down his clothes covered in old, dry oil (which was clearly powering engines, or some other machinery), you straightened and watched Pintley approach Scooterboy. You exhaled slowly and put the shotgun on your back, shoving it back into the covering.
"Name's Pintley, young man. Come here, I'll give you a cold Dr. Bob and some food." - Pintley patted his shoulder and you carefully watched Scooterboy with a frown. You were inclined to believe him just after he looked like isn't about to kill you, yet it didn't mean you'd be particularly fond of the stranger just yet.
"Scooterboy?" - Your voice was firm and cold as you looked at him. - "Don't you do something with cars? I get the vibe you do, look at your clothes." - It was a short explanation, but it did work. Scooter looked down quickly, raising his eyebrows. Blindy was now standing next to you and he didn't have a clue about what was going on.
"Catch-A-Ride!" - Scooterboy exclaimed with a big smile. Oh dear, you got your mindset straight on who he was. It was like a blast inside your brain. You knew his face from all the commercials you've seen with his face - it was a big thing when he supposedly died on his way to Helios. Ellie, his big sister and the other big mechanic of Pandora, was paying him many respects and missed him dearly. She was mourning for a long time.
"How the fuck are you alive?" - With a frown, you stormed past him and Pintley, entering the pub first. - "This is one wild evening Pintley, I tell you. Give me, Billy and Scooter some cold Dr. Bob and some bread with cheese you have there because I'm about to faint." - You sat at the nearest chair, massaging your own face.
Scooter was alive.
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kazushuu · 4 years
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🍍🍊🥝 for both of those sweet boys
o lord this ended up long. read more time!
🍍  :    how comfortable is my muse in their body? how do they feel about their height,  weight,  strength,  and body type?  how important is being attractive to them?
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    “ …occupying myself with such things is nothing but baggage. ”
    he says, but it’s only half true. appearances (and identity itself) is completely neutral for him. not uncomfortable, but not really confident and proud either. however if he had to pick, he is often bothered with things below his neck more.
   he’s not bothered about his height, necessarily. but his strength is a bothersome thing. chemistry equipment like machinery is usually heavy, and so carrying those things around is a hassle. he sorta expressed his desire to be stronger in a usual creepy manner when talking about mantis shrimp.he is almost always cold and rigid because he’s underweight, and paired with medication, he’s generally a very dizzy.
   …he fully knows that he’s responsible for his own health, but completely reinventing his lifestyle– even though he’d definitely be even more productive and beneficial if he were healthy– is just an… impossible task, that he can’t tackle right away.
   but on another hand, even if he doesn’t voice it, he is very touched and impacted about compliments (usually just acknowledgements) about his voice, and hair, and eyes, and believe it or not, hands, so he’s subtly proud of them. he takes better care of his hair than anything else about his anatomy. and the pretty bow that he always has in his hair is very much a conscious decision.
   kazuaki picked up on this fact and compliments shuu on his butt and thighs in hopes that he’ll enhance them too but to no avail, shuu always hides them under discreet coats. damn u shuu
   he isn’t really self conscious about his scarring. he is worried that kazuaki will be too disgusted to handle it, but soon enough they’re gonna talk about it and their worries will be gone.
   summed up, he’s distressed about how vulnerable he unfortunately is, but doesn’t really care about beauty.
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   “ …………………..n-no, not comfortable. i hate everything, everything about myself! i truly mean it!! i don’t like my height, i don’t like my weight, i don’t like my strength, i don’t like my body type, i don’t like my hair, i don’t like my face, i don’t like my voice, i don’t like my teeth, i don’t like my hands, i don’t like my knees, i don’t like how my hips look, i don’t like how my stomach rolls when i sit down, i don’t like my nose, i don’t like anything, and if if they were visible, i’d hate my organs too.
   everything feels wrong… i’m too tall, i don’t want to bring attention to myself, i want to disappear, i’m too fat- but i don’t even really dislike it alone, it’s just a constant reminder of how shitty and sloppy i am with what i put in myself…
   i don’t like the lines on my wrists because they are a constant reminder… of hitori.
   i like things that are cute and pretty, and i’m neither… even though shuu compliments me, i don’t know how to stop hating myself.
   f-freckles! i also have those, i-… i don’t know, they make me look childish, maybe?
   …why am i looking for reasons to hate myself??!! why can’t i stop??!!
   …i feel like if i met someone nice and kind and friendly, someone whom i’d like, who had the same physical traits as me, i wouldn’t find them ugly, s-so why? ”
   yeah. but as he said, he simply feels like a nuisance and clutter of space, because he thinks he has too many flaws without any good things to make up for them. shuu isn’t super vocal, but he actually finds kazuaki’s appearance very endearing. if not too much sometimes. cause you know. kawa-word.
   as teeth-gritting as it is, he’s happy to know that shuu is pleased with his appearance, and equally as pleased with the idea to experiment and bruise him, so oddly enough, that’s a small boost to his cripplingly low confidence.
🍊  :    does my muse desire romance?  is it something they would actively seek out,  or prefer to happen more  ‘  naturally?  ’  what is their love life like?  do they have any exes or past flings,  or crushes?
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   “ …i don’t seek anything, no. i have always been married to my work, but, well, it seems that i became sentimental about this… particular quail. i don’t know how it came to this, ” yes he does, all too well, “ but alongside my main husband, kazuaki is very dear to me… and i shall not comment on the last question. ”
   obviously shuu needs a lot of time, and some amount of pressure, to awaken some empathy and feelings in him. and when he likes someone, he will develop an entire lobe in his brain dedicated to them. although it has only happened… twice in his life.
   his love life is kazuaki, and nothing else.
   his feelings towards ryuuji, although on a similar frequency, are much different than kazuaki’s. believe it or not, shuu has a romantic crush on kazuaki, and had one for a long while before they became a couple, but his feelings towards ryuuji are actually platonic. at least, that’s the state that they ended on. if… time went on, they would’ve developed into romanticism as well.
   ryuuji can’t really be called a crush, as much as that souma projected his entire being onto him, his present, his future, his little embryo hopes and dreams… he called him his boss, because that’s what he was, but really, souma saw ryuuji as a father figure.
   after being robbed of his childhood, ryuuji showed him a glimpse of innocent fun, but was also a role-model in his achievements.
   it was unrequited love in a way, but souma didn’t realize the depth of his feelings until much later.
   as he said, he saw ryuuji as someone to be admired from below, but kazuaki is someone he can sympathize with, and clings to the fact that they’re in love with all his might.
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       -sniff-
   “ …hitori…hitori is an ex. i don’t know if i love or hate him anymore.
   b-but um, um, otherwise… i haven’t really met all that many people in my life, so i don’t know… i always fantasized and dreamed about true love and all that stuff you see in cartoons.
   i didn’t really chase after shuu because i wanted him to be my boyfriend, at first. at first, i came to him because i had no one else. not a single person in real life left. shuu was my only acquaintance, and was the only person who didn’t immediately slither away when i tried to be friendly, so i fixated on him with all my might…
   …to be my friend. i wanted to be his friend.
   a-and i guess at some point, we did, but we never even really acknowledged it, because we only realized it when we decided to take the next step already! so that’s wild! it happened naturally, i guess. um, more naturally than with hitori. and i mean that as, maybe because we didn’t know we were friends, i didn’t latch onto him as obviously as to hitori, when we were 18… we were mostly at a certain distance.
   so, i guess, i’ve always been a slow burn, “natural” type, ahah… mnm, when i think about it really hard, maybe i had some aesthetic-based highschool crushes. there was a guy, and a girl, or… there might’ve been two girls, but we never even talked, so… ”
🥝  :    does my muse have any  ‘  unusual  ’  habits, interests,  and  /  or talents?  do they hide it,  or are they proud of it?
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   “ I don’t know much about what is considered ‘unusual’ or not. but from reactions and experience, i guess everything about me is called unusual, creepy, suspicious, untrustworthy…mean…disgusting...
   but if we put what most birds know on a surface level about me, i guess there are some hidden traits too…
   …my interest in marine biology seems to be one. i love it equally as much as i love pathology and research, but i don’t have a reason (or way) to show it as a nurse in a highschool.
   …i like cooking? it’s a bit of a shame. i never saw a reason to put effort into it, if it was just gonna be me eating it in the end, but kazuaki seems to like my dinner making skills, so i’ve been doing that more often.
   …there…there probably is more, but i can’t remember anything… m-my mind is full of crabs and seafood now, hm. ”
   the list of shuu’s habits is endless and the list is always expanding! i have a list of HCs on it in a twitter thread here!
   but let’s see, the quirkiest of habits, that are a bit of a secret…
   shuu looks really cute when you catch him eating. he is quiet and polite of course but he tends to stuff his cheeks and then just slowly chew looking like a hamster.
   shuu stims. he’s never really mobile and never gets hyperactive so those stims are subtle.he fidgets with his (reminiscent) necktie, or any other fabric in hand.he chuckles (and makes.. bird noises) pretty much unawarely and impulsively. those count as stims too.
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   “ u-uhuu... i dunno... i’ve always been the introverted outcast and no one is interested in me, so that can either mean that i’m painfully average or really weird without meaning to...
   ...i-i’ve been told that because i work at this prestigious academy, that must mean that my skill...”talent”...for classic and contemporary literature is unusual and exceptional...so i guess that’s unique?
   and...um... ” now that he thought about the topic harder, a piling mountain of perverted thoughts came to his mind, “ Y-YEAH THAT’S IT!! THERE IS...NOTHING ELSE! ”
   but that’s not true. kazuaki has plenty of hidden traits. one of his interests, although not so secret on this blog, is his love for hatocatch pretty coore, and generally, he loves most childish and energetic anime and games... and interests.
   aside from writing, he also really likes drawing, but isn’t very good at it, which prompts him to hate the end results.
   he loves astrology, and had a phase where he obsessed over it while studying both art and science related to it... you can probably guess that shuu loves this intellectual side of him.
   as for talents, or, uh, lack of thereof, kazuaki can’t whistle, and can’t wink. (shuu can whistle, but he can’t wink either).
   and as for a habit and skill, in bird form, kazuaki gets frightened so easily and so frequently, that his quail instinct is desensitized to it and actually doesn’t jump and ram his head into the ceiling when startled, and instead his instinct is to hide below. of course, he’d still jump if something were really (really) sudden. but he’s more likely to hug someone than flee.. upwards.
   also, he’s actually really talented at rhythm games... and i won’t tell what else he’s really good at with his fingers.
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boogiewrites · 5 years
Text
A Girl Walks Into A Bar 10
Characters: Declan Harp x Bella Fiore (OFC)
Summary: Modern Declan harp AU. Friday at the music festival, from waking up together, to falling asleep together, they do everything while touching on this day of growth for both of them. Bella shows her playful side, letting her more childish behavior come forth and Declan eagerly accepts and enables all of it.
Warnings/Tags: Language. Drugs. Flirting. Bella finally opening up to Declan. Declan being a playful sweetheart. BED SHARING. Cuddling. Mutual Pining! Growing FEELINGS.
Click on my screen name then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)
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The sun had been up for a few hours, the warmth of the morning starting to break through the exterior of the van. The sunlight washed in the tops of the windows despite their secure curtains and a beam of light causes Declan to stir. He pulls himself out of a deep sleep slowly, his eyes heavy and body heavier as smoking the night before had relaxed him to the point of total surrender. He blinks and squints, his eyes adjusting to the trickling light in the dark van. He noticed first that he still has his arm around Bella, and the moments of vulnerability the night before come back to him. The covers are still over him, and his arm weighed on her waist but with the relaxed look on her still sleeping face she certainly didn’t seem to mind. He’d slept so deep he hadn’t even feel her move, with the way her breathing was so slow he guesses she didn’t know she’d moved either. Her head was against his chest, her cheek smooshed adorably, her lips puckering and blubbing as she exhaled. He watched her for a few long minutes, totally at ease. He wished she could feel like this when awake, but he felt that same thankfulness as he did last night that she was beginning to trust him enough to let him in and see this side of her at all.
With his arm bent under the pillow, he moves it carefully to push his hair back before settling in slightly closer to her. He relocates his hand beneath the covers resting it behind her back, feeling her hair tickling his hand. He moves his fingers, feeling the soft strands between them for a moment before his eyes move back to her face. She looked so sweet and if he was being honest with himself, beautiful. Her freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks, just barely visible with her light brown skin. Her groomed and arched brows were only imperfect from a scar that rested on one of them, but it was unnoticeable from far away when she had makeup on. The same could be said for a pale scar that ran back and disappeared into her hair he hadn’t noticed before, and a divot near her jawline, the softened square that it was, that he thought might’ve been from childhood chickenpox. He had a similar one himself, along with the much more noticeable scar over his brow and upper cheek from a particularly nasty run-in with a broken beer bottle in his youth.
He gives over to the wants of the sleepy haze he still resides in comfortably. The warmth from her body against his under the fuzzy blanket she seemed particularly fond of must’ve made him feel the warm and fuzz carry into his chest. He moves, the covers sliding down her tattooed shoulder as he gets lost in his feelings he usually tries to push away. His cut almost too short fingernails are still holding yesterday’s dirt underneath them despite his best efforts at scrubbing them the night before. They push back the hair that has fallen in her face, as his half-lidded eyes look over her. She stirs, a dreamy expression and a smile on his face, letting himself feel the growing feelings for the woman in his arms while he could.
Besides how effortlessly charming she was to him with her bad jokes and crooked, mischievous smile, he thought about what was drawing him to her so much. What was making him get anxious when he hadn’t seen her for too long? Or what made him light up at a simple text from her? Maybe he saw pieces of himself in her. They certainly had a lot in common when it came to personal taste. She also had a past that held pain for her, and he felt connected to her for it. She was funny and sassy and crass, all traits he needed someone in his life to have to deal with him. She was reserved, a bit tightly wound at times and had the tendency to express her sensitive side through anger and violence. But he knew how to handle that and he could really understand why a woman like her would act in such a way. Maybe it was the softness that she was starting to pull the curtain back on for him. She made him feel special just by wanting to be around him, she had said it herself, she hated everybody else. He watches her brow furrowed at the touch of his fingers boldly in her hair. A small and sweet grunt as she shifts her body against his and he feels his stomach flutter like a schoolboy with a crush. He’d liked her before this trip, but he was only finding reasons to like her more. Particularly while she was nuzzling against him, looking more like a harmless kitten than a hellcat. He could see the damage that had been dealt to her, but he also saw the strength it had left in its wake. He sighs, not knowing exactly where he stood with her, worrying the feelings he had for her that were now unavoidable for him were one-sided. He leans forward and plants a kiss to her forehead while he has the chance.
She feels a tickle, which draws her out of her deep sleep. But she’s so comfortable, feeling so warm and relaxed that she doesn’t want to wake up. After he sees her shift, only moving closer to him he stops touching her hair and lays back, letting his mind wander and listen to her breathing. With his body protectively arched around hers, he let himself daydream about getting to wake her up with kisses and roaming hands.
She falls back into a dream, with a lucidness to it now. She could feel him against her, smell him as her nose and mouth pressed against the scratch of his chest hair. Her hand opens, her palm bravely mapping out the contours of his pecs and chest before wrapping around to his back, letting out a satisfied moan at the lean muscle she felt there. She feels his mouth in her hair, murmuring a good morning as she smiles in response. His skin is so warm beneath her curious fingers, a hardness when pressure was applied to his skin, but a comforting softness overlying it. He was physically so appealing her body was responding to her suppressed need.
“You didn’t try anything last night.” She says, nuzzling between his prominent pecs.
“No. Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you. You can trust me.”
She hums happily at the perfect response. What any person would want to hear. For a reward, she kisses his chest first, a single peck as she feels his hand move to her lower back, a brief pause before she shifts and kisses his jaw, nose buried in the fluff of his beard before it moves down the swell of her ass and grabs a handful assertively. Her kisses move up and to his neck, his ears, his temples and onto the trio of moles on his cheekbone. A breath away from his pink and soft lips, her thumbs brush across his handsome face. Grazing her nose to his he says her name and she smiles, feeling his lips move against hers. She gives in to what she wants, kissing him, tongue teasing and feeling his big hands move over her curves without hesitation. He says her name again, but she doesn’t want to stop. Then she hears him chuckle. A deep and raspy morning voice full of amusement.
“Bella. Wake up.” He says, watching her squirm and grunt as he watches her mouth move, trying to figure out the words she was saying in her sleep. “You having a bad dream there babe?” He asks, his hand more certain on her cheek before his thumb brushes across her temple and pushes her hair back again.
“Mmmm.” A discontent mewl escapes her as her brow furrows deeply, her hand moving to her face.
“Morning there Cheech.” He teases. “It’s almost 10.” He informs her in a soft voice.
“Sleep.” She says grumpily and slams her face into his chest, pulling the cover over her head.
“Oh don’t be like that now.” A laugh that she can feel rumble in his chest moves through her and makes her let out a deep sigh. At least she was in his arms, she thinks. It wasn’t on top of him kissing him, but that wasn’t exactly the next move she needed to make. But the thought was now firmly planted in her mind.
——————
Bella sits on the bed with crossed legs, her make up bag poured out next to her and her toilette bag on her other side.
“Oh shit. I forgot to put my music on, would you mind babe?” She says with a kind tone that makes him more than willing to do what she says.
“No problem.” He replies, sitting down his water and moving between the two captain chairs and hooking the phone up to the sound system.
“Put it on... upbeat/dancey.” She asks with a playful smile as she brushes out her hair.
“K. Lemme find it.” He mutters, thumbing through Spotify, not yet familiar with it entirely. He sits in the passenger seat and eventually finds her playlists. The usual as he expected, morning mix, shower mix, songs to drink to. But what caught his attention scrolling down to get to the “U” in upbeat, was a string of playlists called Slow Jams. She had Slow Jams Vanilla, Slow Jams Fast, Hard, Rough, lovey, angry and grooves. He smirks and chooses Slow Jams Hard.
She hears the opening drums of Pussy Liquor by Rob Zombie and she stops mid spray of dry shampoo and tilts her head. “That’s not on that playlist.” She states almost as if it were a question.
“Nope.” He grins, his head peeking out at her from behind the chair. “What are these playlists called Slow Jams Bella?” He says with a childish tease in his voice.
She tilts her head and smirks. “I don’t know. What do you think they are Declan?” She mocks back.
“He gives her a wide grin that makes his eyes shut.
“Put it in the right playlist and stop killing my vibe you turd.” She says with a shake of her head.
“You’ve got a lot of playlists.” He says picking the correct one.
“I do.” She bods in agreement. “I like having music for every occasion.” She explains.
“You have two shower playlists.” He laughs. “Commute good, commute bad, work, cooking, parents.” He lists.
“I do know what playlists I have I made them.” She smiles and continues looking into the mirror and getting ready.
“You really do like all sorts of music don’t you?” He asks, still Nosily thumbing through the songs.
“Comes with the territory.”
“But you look like you’re such a... rock and metal chick.”
“It’s my preferred aesthetic. Plus rock is my favorite. Doesn’t mean I can’t also like pop and Motown.” She throws out as examples. “I have to stay current to be great at what I do.” She adds in, and he once again feels that attraction towards her for what commitment she had to her craft.
He watches her for a moment, a Bobby pin between her teeth as she pulls her hair half up into two little buns. “You look like a spice girl.” He chuckles.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She puts her hand to her chest and gives him a teasing pout. “I need my curling iron out of my bag there if you don’t mind.” She points with her elbow while her hands are busy.
“Yep.” He responds only to show he heard her. She had two bags pushed together in the bottom shelf behind a chair. With his back to her he bunches over one, unzipping and digging his hands through it to find no curling iron. But, what he had done was open the wrong bag and currently had a fistful of her black panties. He flinches, his eyes growing wide as he sees the lace and lack of fabric on some of them mixed among her tank tops and bralettes.
“You got in the wrong one there hun.” She calls out with laughter in her voice. “Get out of my panties ya perv.” She lightens the mistake by snapping a hair tie his way.
“But I’ve never seen panties so small! Where’s the rest of them?” He holds up a g string and has an almost convincing look of innocence on his face
“Well you clearly haven’t dated any fun girls.” She laughs and quirks an eyebrow at him. “Or watched any good porn.” She adds with a snort.
“And you have?” He says with an impressed look, panties now tucked away back in the bag as he opens the right one.
“Oh yeah.” She nods. “Well I mean I’ve not dated any girls but about the porn, a resounding yes.” She says with a smile that shows no embarrassment as she takes the curling iron from him.
“Most girls I know don’t.” He says introspectively, sitting with crossed legs like her in the floor, looking up at her perched on the bed.
“No. Most girls lie about it.” She states with a confident delivery.
“Really?” He asks with genuine curiosity.
“Yeah. I mean there’s such a stigma around women and liking sex, or having a sex drive at all. Lots of shame built in about it ya know? Especially compared to guys.”
“You don’t seem ashamed.” He says politely, but his tone was really an appreciation for the honesty she always brought to their conversations.
“Nah.” She frowns and shakes her head. “Never has much use for it. I mean, have you seen the way I dress?” She asks with a goofy crooked grin that he’s deemed his favorite of hers. -------------------- As Declan pulls his large half tied boots over his distressed denim jeans, grunting as he finally gets his heel into the shoe he raises his nose and sniffs the air.
“Bella you’re gonna get suspended!” He calls out with a scolding voice. He hears a giggle in response that makes him grin and sigh.
“You’re such a square!” She says loudly before coughing and laughing. He walks around the back of the van, seeing her smoking the joint that they’d been so generously gifted. "Ya gonna be a narc or hit this with me?” She asks with a hand on her hip, other arm extended with its stack of turquoise bangle bracelets.
“Hey, fuck you buddy, I’m no narc.” He says with a puffed up and defensive attitude, playing along.
“Good. I don’t fuck with narcs.” She grins, a cocky of nod of her head following her words. “You gotta take pics of me ya human tripod.” She says with a feminine giggle that makes that same dopey smile appear unfiltered now from the floaty highness he was experiencing.
“I’m glad you are respecting the title.” He tells between coughs.” Ya finished with this ya stoner?”
“I am and I wanted to not be so uptight in the big crowds today. Plus being high and listening to music is just...” She lets out a sigh and a shrug, “the best.”
“Lemme go kill this.” He mumbles, smashing the cherry on the tire and moving to hide the roach in a tin of Altoids.
She’s already taking selfies in the sunlight when he returns. Big sunglasses with her mini space bun hair, a ripped and almost threadbare t-shirt tucked into the front of her cut off and frayed denim shorts. They had enough holes to match the shirt and he was getting a peek at some of the panties he had been wrist deep in earlier. Except not in the meaning he’d prefer to have at this juncture. He shakes his head and loses the thought, more time for that later.
“At least you’re wearing a whole shirt today.” He jokes. His own a look similar with its holes from wear and time.
“Had to give my skin a break. Didn’t want a bunch of sun two days in a row. Gotta go easy on the tattoos.” She explains. “Speaking of, did you need sunscreen?” She asks, beginning to ruffle through her bag.
“Nah. I don’t burn. Well...I mean I have before but it’s rare.”
“Must be nice to be the son of a sun god.” She says in a teasing tone.
“Nah. Just Cree.” He says proudly with a big smile.
“Well c’mon and take pictures of me Sunny.” She chuckles. “Then we can go get some food, I am starving.”
“Because of your peer pressure so am I.” He admits, rubbing his stomach and holding up the camera on them both.
“Not my fault you gave in. Didn’t you go to those assembly’s as a kid?” her body language is much more friendly today, her cheek next to his for photos, her hand on his stomach as she smiled.
“Must’ve missed that day.” He chuckles as he takes advantage of her clearly comfortable body language and pulls her in as she raises her leg over his hip and grabs him around his middle as he smooshes her face into his chest. It’d be one of his favorite pictures ever taken of them, him with a clear look of pride for having her affections, holding her close. And her with a big smile that showed what a goof she really was as she gave into the goofy nature of the face smooshing and raised her hand to act like she was honking one of his pecs. The following pic was one of her favs. It had his genuinely shocked face open with laughter and looking down at her, with her looking up with an open-mouthed laugh that wrinkled her nose. Since she was a kid, she had no pictures of her enjoying herself in such a way.
------------------------
They walk side by side with their mutual gates of swaying steps, hers with her hips and his with his shoulders. They make their way down the field to where it's populated, the spot they'd chosen was the farthest from the stages and it seemed no one else but the hippie's wanted to keep to themselves and that was fine with them. As soon as they hit the first row of parked RV's and trucks, tents and fellow van enthusiasts the smells of festivals past come and hit them both with a wave of nostalgia. Unfortunately, that wave also came with the B.O., old food, smoke and abused porta-potty smell that lingers with a crowded outdoor festival.
They move through the river of people, trickling in from the rows and into one main vein that led into the gate for the stages and food. As soon as it becomes crowded, Bella begins getting knocked around and bumped into. She noticed Declan was avoided and felt jealous of the power his height, look and sex gave him in a crowd like this. Luckily, she just sighs and comes up with a much less angry and much simpler plan to deal with this problem since she was still pleasantly high.
"Declan." she says and he turns back in a millisecond to answer her voice that he thought sounded as if it were a call for assistance.
"Yeah, what's up?" he asks, stopping and still not getting bumped into as she staggered next to him, still having sweaty bodies slide up against hers.
"You mind if I trail you? I mean, I don't know if you noticed but no one's knocking into you and I'm feeling like Mufasa in that stampede scene here." she says, a guy not paying attention knocks his arm into her shoulder without so much as an acknowledgment, proving her point.
"Oh shit. I didn't notice. Sorry babe. Yeah. What ya need? Wanna run red 42? I'll be the line backer?" he jokes, stepping closer and forming a protective bubble around her.
"I don't know what that means so jokes on you." she replies with a sassy shake of her head. "How about we just stay close?" she says holding out her hand. "You lead to the food and I'll be a lil baby duck and you be big daddy duck and I'll waddle behind you." she chuckles, taking his hand without so much as a flinch.
"C'mon then little fluff butt." he lets out that big dumb laugh she loves, a deep rhythmic pulse that shook his chest. She couldn't help but watch his pecs bounce.
He leads, her hand in his behind his back as she moves unscathed through the crowd. She'd be bringing him to every event that had crowds from now on she decided.
After standing forever, having a conversation about what outrageous thing they would be willing to eat with how hungry they were, they finally got to the booth they wanted.
"GBD." she says with a deepened masculine voice, raising her shirt and patting her stomach.
He snorts at the goofiness she's willing to exude in a public space and lets out a giggle. "What the fuck are you on about?" he asks, getting out his wallet.
"Golden. Brown. Delicious." she says with a face as if she were drooling. "I wish we had more hands. Then we could get like... everything." she says with wide eyes, her stomach audibly growling at the smell of fried food.
"I want a corn dog. Period. Everything else is second. I'm fuckin' dyin' for a corn dog." he says, now rubbing his stomach and shaking his head.
"Make it two. Then I want a mega cheese stick. Wait,no, get two foot long corn dogs!" she says with enthusiasm.
He wasn't sure but he felt what could be love surge through him for her words. "Whatever you want Bells." he says staring at her counting on her fingers and hypnotized by the menu.
"Two foot long corn dogs. A mega cheese stick. Oh a tater'nado! A deep fried snickers for dessert...WHAT SPAGHETTI?!" she says with a dropped jaw as he swoons openly.
"Spaghetti?" he asks, turning back to the menu.
"Spaghetti on a stick. Deep fried mozzarella with pepperoni stacked on a deep fried meatball in a fried nest of spaghetti noodles. Fuuuuuuuck." she says feeing the drool accumulate in her mouth. "That's the most insane thing I've ever heard. We need five." she laughs and turns her beaming face towards his.
"How about one?" he suggests.
"Deal." she nods. "I'm not unreasonable." she proclaims.
"Won't your ancestors like... roll over in their graves for this?" he jokes.
"Like yours did when you ate that "Indian Taco" yesterday?" she smirks.
"Point taken." he nods and purses his lips in acceptance of the burn.
"I hope mine RISE from their graves for this. It's Italian... It's American. It's a melting pot ya old fucks, get into it!" she says cheerfully with waving hands.
"You're a fuckin' nut." he says with a loud laugh that he bends to slightly.
"You have no idea." she laughs with him and touches his arm to shake her head and emphasize her point. "Now feed me before I start gnawing on these beefy arms of yours." she snorts and gives his bicep a squeeze.
------
They sit on one side of the bench with both hands full, already having finished the fried spaghetti and corn dogs and now sharing a cheese stick. The dessert still left to go.
"You got a little... well a lotta..." she laughs with a mouthful of fried bread and cheese as she chews and swallows, fingers picking strings of melted cheese out of his beard.
"Oh I got a little?" he says foolishly, acting like he's going to get it but keeps purposely missing the pieces.
"C'mere you child!" she laughs, grabbing the chunk and then pointing behind him, prompting him to look in that direction.
"What?" he says turning back to her chewing. "No." he says with a slow-growing smirk. "You did not."
"Did what?" she asks with faux innocence, her back hunched and her nose wrinkling with guilt.
"Did you just eat that?" he asks loudly and throws his head back into a loud laugh.
"Maybe?"
"You're so gross." he says in laughter.
"I mean... it's been claimed before." she shrugs and smiles widely.
"It's a statement, not a roast." he says for clarification.
"Roast? You got roast in there?" she asks, leaning forward and putting her fingers into his beard.
"Oh my God Bells, STOP!" he lets out a giggle, grabbing her wrists as he pushes her away. "Let a man eat!" he says putting one end of the string of curly potatoes into his mouth.
"No peace as long as a hungry Fiore's around," she says with a wag of her finger, looking to the basket on the table with the two final desserts's on a stick. She watches him chaw and look around, his mustache moving comically over the rapidly disappearing tater'nado. "Don't hog it all." she says, taking the other end and eating it.
"We gonna lady and the tramp this?" he asks without even thinking about it.
"You're the lady and I'm the tramp." she says with a mouthful and they both laugh.
"You're certainly not a lady so I would agree." he sass's back.
She stops sucking up the strand like a noodle and lets him have the rest. She moves sits up straight and burps. "I plead no contest." she says proudly.
"Oh yeah?" he says with a clear hint of challenge in his eyes. He sits up and belches out a noise that clearly is the louder of the two.
"Damn. I concede." she says. "That's a good one, dude." she says raising her hand for a high five that he gladly takes. "Now for the sweets." she says with a shimmy of her shoulders.
"Now this one is MINE." he clearly states, swiping away the deep fried cheesecake. "Since you didn't want one and went with a Snickers. Ya basic." he proclaims before shoving the end into his mouth.
"Since when do you know current slang?" she says with a judgey tone, picking up her choice of fried food.
"I know things!" he says defensively.
She gives him a side eye before biting into her treat.
"I do! Don't give me that look!" he chokes out with a mouthful of cheesecake.
"Fuck that smells good." she says looking longing at this mouth. "Can I have a bite?" she asks politely.
"I dunno. You made your choice." he says with an attitude-filled shake of his head.
"C'mon. We shared the other stuff." she whines.  "You can have a bite of mine! It's good!" she offers, holding it out.
"Fine." he says handing over his stick. "But keep yours I'm not much for chocolate." he shrugs.
"WHAT?!" she says in a loud offended tone. "You can take me home RIGHT NOW!" she proclaims acting like she was going to stand.
"I don't hate choclate." he laughs and pulls her back down by her wrist. "It's just not my top pick is all. Plus I'm so fuckin' full." he groans and rubs his extended belly.
"I could eat more." she giggles.
"Well give that back before you do." he holds out his hand.
She shakes her head and licks it and grins.
"Bella...." he says with a warning.
"I like it better." she mutters.
"I told you!" he says shoving her knee.
"I think..." she says sneakily starting to stand and making it look like she was resituating her legs. "I'm gonna keep them both." she says with a calm delivery, slow to throw him off of her plan.
"No, you're-!" he starts. But before it's out of his mouth she's up and running away. "Fuck's sake." he says with a loud laugh, propelling himself off the bench and after her, holding both sticks in her hands and laughing like a child. What a different side to her this trip was bringing out. He has a brief moment of sadness, thinking that it would end soon. But it's quickly forgotten as his long legs catch up fast and grab her around the waist, picking her up off the ground and spinning her a few times as her feet kick out and she squealed like a thrilled child.
"Declan!" she shouts and lets her head fall back in a belly laugh.
Her wiggling and snorts of genuine laughter make his heart thump. Her hair falling into his face and her head on his shoulder as she was suspended helplessly as he shook her back and forth, both snacks still firmly gripped in both hands. He puts her down and they both pant from full stomachs and too much running, still laughing, his hands on his knees.
She watches his face light up. The warm tones of his skin practically glowing, his cheeks coming up and hiding his brown eyes under that masculine hard brow. His teeth too perfect looking for the rest of his rugged face shine with the wagging tongue in his mouth as he laughs with a broad smile. The not sober state she was in, the fullness in her belly translating to fullness in her heart catches her off guard. He was really... gorgeous. "You have like..." she begins, her mind floating in a haze of happiness and endorphins from food and fun. "The best laugh dude." she says softly, her light tone taking him by surprise as his eyes reappear, now wide and questioning as he sees her face set in a soft and honest pose. "Your face just... lights up." she offers with a closed mouth smile, one side higher than the other. "You laugh with your whole body." the smile breaks and shows her teeth. "It's really nice." her face looked almost like pity, but he knew it wasn't. He was scared to acknowledge that it really looked more like adoration.
"You're really sweet Bella." he says standing up and looking down at her with a smile that still beamed. "But don't think all those nice words are gonna get you out of this you little shit." he growls and grabs his cheesecake and gets her in a headlock.
"Noooo! Declan!" she whines and laughs, trying to get her snack to her mouth and failing.
"Punishment fits the crime." he says, proceeding to walk around with his arm around her head and her bent over and laughing.
"At least your deodorant smells good." she snorts.
"Flattery will NOT get you out of this one." he says with a firm nod. But really, she didn't want to get away from having her face pushed into what she'd described to Charlotte as his, beefy tiddies. She giggles at the thought and happily stomps alongside him until he deems the punishment over. ----------------------------
The sets ran late and long into the night since it was Friday, starting off the main stage performances. Bella kept her energy up well past the bedtime of the night before since she'd slept so well. She and Declan made their way through the dense crowds, their fingers in each others belt loops, holding the backs of shirts and holding hands to manage. Bella found it far easier to be at a show with a person that was about 5 inches taller than anyone else around him. He could see lines and empty spaces that others couldn't and she found the whole long day to be much less tiring with her own personal giant chauffer to guide her around.
But the dancing and walking, the shouting and singing all caught up to them both, unfortunately. Grabbing a hefty dose of carbs before the booths closed for the night, they took their bag of food and made their way back to the van with the moon and stars out and bright as the lights of the stages faded away.
They chat and catch up with Pat and Joe, having had spent the majority of the day at the craft and comedy tents. They compared their experiences and suggested bands to check out over the next two days. With a comedic sniffing of their own armpits, they laugh and say they need to find some industrial strength baby wipes to control the sweat they were dealing with from the day. Luckily for them, their new friends were always generous and offered them to use their shower in their RV. A chance they both lept at.
So with showers past, both their hair hanging much the same, damp and slightly wavy on their shoulders they're sitting hip to hip in bed, Bella holding a roach with a bobby pin and smoking with the windows cracked and a mini fan blowing out the evidence.
"This is a neat little trick." he comments, the bobby pin looking miniscule in his fingers.
"Thanks. Learned it while hanging out with bands after I graduated." she muses, a smile that held fond memories as he finds himself mirroring the expression.
She lets out a big yawn, a stretch that shows her soft stomach as it raises her shirt, the fried food, and overeating for the day shown in her pooch. "I dunno if it's the weed or if I really am just THAT tired." she says scratching her head. "That shower really took it out of me."
"Probably everything hitting us at once." he says with a slow nod, feeling his muscles powering down.
"All we're doing is talking anyway. Let's just get ready for bed." she says, pulling off her socks and balling them, tossing them at her bag.
"Sounds like a great idea to me. I'm beat." he groans, snuffing out the roach and hiding it away again. They leave the windows cracked, it let in a pleasant circulation of cool air. With their bodies so close the extra drop in temperature was barely noticed to Bella, but she was buried in blankets and not having at least one random limb uncovered at all times like Declan, due to his size.
He lays on his side, face weighing lazily on his hand. She lays on her back, knees bent and fingers messing with the edge of the blanket. There's a moment of silence as they switch off the lights, but it doesn't feel heavy or awkward. The wear they feel deep in their bodies from the busy day is apparent to them both as they lay on each other with no hesitation to the touch now. They had spent the majority of the day holding hands like a couple of kids on a field trip.
He hears another big yawn from her. "So tired." she says, smacking her lips.
"Big yawn for a little lady." he chuckles, that deep and relaxed sound that makes her close her eyes and hum with contentment.
"So nice to come back here where it's quiet after being around people all day." she says, her voice soft and quiet.
"Yeah it's like camping. I like it." he says, resting his head now on his pillow, propped up a bit above her with the height added from his arm.
"Maybe I would like camping if it's like this."
"You should come with me sometime." he offers.
"I should." she says without reluctance.
"We can even use this van." he offers.
"That'd be nice. It's nice to have this like... little bubble with you to come back to after a long day. Like a little escape from everybody else."
"Yeah." is all he responds at first, a smile on his face for her complimentary words. "It's a nice little bubble we've got here." he says before a yawn catches him.
"I like being here..." her words start to take longer to come out as she starts fading, trying to stay awake and talk like a teenager at a sleepover. "With you..." another pause as the smile still hasn't left his face. "Just so... comfortable." were her final words before she dozes off.
He chuckles and she doesn't even notice. Her mouth slightly open, one hand in her hair and the other on her stomach as her breathing moves to a deep and steady rhythm, he yawns again, wanting to stay in this bubble she was referring to. The moon came in just right so he could get a glimpse of her. He wishes he could get a picture of her like this, so peaceful. He'd just have to stare longer to burn it into his mind.
He couldn't recall the last time he'd had so much fun with a woman like they had today. She was bold and wild, never backing down from a taunt or challenge, and never losing gracefully. Which lucky for her, he found to be highly endearing. And it wasn't only because he got to comfort her after.
Another yawn comes over him, and he knows he's going to lose the fight against sleep soon too. He takes a big breath and makes a decision to bring her in for a cuddle like the night before. He lifts the covers, moving her arm gently down and cupping her back, pulling her towards him as he moved to his back. But unlike the closed-off body language of the night before, she lets out a small grunt and a tiny mewl that makes his breath catch at the delicate nature of it as she moves closer. With her eyes still closed, she slides up against his side, an arm thrown over his waist and her head on his chest near his shoulder. Her face nuzzles with a happy little sound from the back of her throat as he tries to control his heart rate at the sudden affection. She shimmies down and settles, his arm around her back and shoulders, making her feel safe. He gets to indulge once again, his face getting to rest in her hair that smelled like berries, his fingers pulling it away from her face, fingers lazily stroking the strands, still damp at the ends. He held her close, breathing her in, stroking her hair with one hand and the other resting on her arm across his chest. She had her full weight on him, a knee over his thigh, she wasn't being shy like that night before.
They both knew something was starting. She felt comfortable to be herself around someone, and a man of all things. He kept catching himself staring at her in small passing flashes of her showing total abandon to the moment she was living in. She wasn't the same woman she was when they'd first met months ago. They both knew that, and although he was more accepting of it than her, she wasn't denying the change that was happening in her when she was around him any longer. There was something besides a mutual appreciation there. Something more than friendship, but neither knew how to make the next step, afraid of what may happen after. So for now, it would be cuddles and taunts, and maybe she could work up the courage to move forward with the endless support that he was so willingly pouring into her.
@vale0413 @littledeadgirlwalking @jaegeeeeer @phillipkopusimagines-and-stuff @mjolnir96 @xmother-mortemx @this-isnt-madness
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glapplebloom · 4 years
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I don’t think so but let’s look at various Fan Made Move lists and see if any change my mind.
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Why I don’t think Waluigi deserves to be in Smash
Yes, he is popular. Yes, he does complete a set. But outside that he doesn’t have much going for him. There are three ways a character can be in Smash Brothers.
Represent Themselves: When they are added into Smash, its basically their personality transferred into the game. Mairo, Bowser, Dedede, Kirby, the list goes on for stuff like this.
Represent the Meta: These are for the characters who are included because of historical reasons. Like ROB to represent a big Nintendo Peripheral, Duck Hunt Dog to represent an entire genre of games, Villager to represent a series, or Little Mac to represent a sport series.
Echo: Basically a clone of another.
Waluigi can’t really fit either of these. He doesn’t have much to offer himself because his entire character can change from game to game. While there are a few things, not enough to build a character around. He can’t represent the Spin off games because every other Mario character does. And he can’t be an Echo because he is vastly different from Luigi or Wario. So I’m going to see various move lists videos and see if any can change my mind.
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Waluigi FOR SMASH! (Character Moveset Concept #3) by pizzadudemanguy
Off the bat this is the strongest move set I can see happen. Waluigi as an assist trophy is always with a Tennis Racket and making his move list center around Tennis not only lives up to that but also allows the few traits he has to fit in. But there is one flaw I can see about this: this move set (outside swimming) can be applied to any Tennis player. You could use it for the Nameless Tennis Player in the NES Tennis or even the four random characters in that same Mario Tennis game for the N64.
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What If Waluigi Was In Smash? (Moveset Ideas: 3) by BrawlFan1
The fact he has this move set for Daisy is off the bat proof this is not going to be convincing to me. And so far a lot of the moves are references to said spin-off games and borrowing a few from other characters. So this is not convincing me on Waluigi being a character.
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What If Waluigi Had a Moveset in Super Smash Bros. Ultimate? by Nintendo Unity
Again, referencing the various Spin Off games more than Waluigi, but they are mostly Waluigi specific stuff. But I think this highlights why I don’t believe Waluigi has a defined character. Seeing each clip makes you see just how different Waluigi is per game. One game he has mechanical arms the next he’s sprouting up thorny vines. He can swim, spin with wind and teleport? Pulls out a rose and acting swave and then crotch chopping? Its all nonsense.
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Improving Super Smash Brothers: Waluigi by The Duke of Dorks
This guy has the right idea: basing Waluigi on the spin-off games is not important to Waluigi. So this guy decides to make a move list just random. But making Waluigi the Deadpool of Smash is probably not the direction I would take it. Especially since the Kid Icarus series is basically that. But making him a joke character is likely the best direction to take Waluigi.
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Waluigi Moveset Idea's (100th video!) Smash Fighter Concepts #01 by Smash Verse
Starts off by saying Waluigi’s move in Super Smash Flash is not a favorite of his, Proceeds to do basically the same thing some of the other videos do and just give him moves based off the spin-off games. 
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The Most CURSED Waluigi in Smash Moveset? by Max Hamm
For something cursed, this seems to be the strongest argument about HOW could Waluigi be a character. Like Duke’s idea about Waluigi being a Joke character with Max Hamm making the joke about Waluigi and not 4th Wall Shenanigans. Plus hearing Kirby say “Kirby, Number 1″ is the strongest argument to have Waluigi as a character. Overall, of the Move lists I’ve seen so far this is the best one that really makes me think Waluigi can be in Smash.
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Waluigi Joins the Battle!! (Custom Moveset V1) - Super Smash Bros. Wii U Mod by a Jewel of Rarity
Ah, modding. Its essentially the equivalent of Thanos going “Fine, I’ll do it myself”. Of course Modding takes work and you can tell when he walks like Peach and has Capt. Falcon’s taunt. The majority of his moves comes from other characters. So overall, not really a good look for Waluigi.
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Waluigi Smash Ultimate Moveset Concept by rikushirran
It starts off with a lot of numbers. Also weird to have his fall speed like Ridley’s. And the moves are once again referencing the Spin-off games. And borrowing a lot of elements from other characters. And having the excuse of “Smash likes to recycle moves” is no excuse. 
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Is Waluigi any good in Smash Flash? - BETA Character Showcase / Review by Linklight Too
Super Smash Flash 2 added Waluigi last year. They do amazing sprite work and do their best to make the game competitive. But I think that’s a problem with Waluigi. He doesn’t really feel like a character from a Mario game and feels like a character for a fighting game. 
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Super Smash Bros Legacy XP Waluigi Moveset
It is definitely a lot better than the previous mod. But still nothing really makes him feel like its Waluigi playable and not a character that looks like Waluigi.
And those are the ones I found. Overall, the best arguments and movelist for Waluigi is Pizzadudemanguy and Max Hamm’s. While I think having it be focused on Tennis can be given to a specific tennis player, that is specifically the one thing smash continues to highlight. While Max Hamm’s feels like a movelist that makes you think of Waluigi as a character and not just a reference. 
Do you want Waluigi in Smash? Do you have a movelist that can convince me as well as those two? Leave a reblog.
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#24 Rob McClanahan ft. #10 Mark Johnson & #9 Neal Broten
“Mark Johnson’s hell of a guy. Never thought I would say that.”
“What about Neal Broten?”
“He is a Mouse.” “A mouse? Would you mind explaining why?”
“Because he squeaks like a mouse. And it can get on your nerves. But you take him to McDonald’s, god help his health, and he is as happy as a mouse with a piece of cheese.”
~December 24th 1980, Lake Placid, New York, USA~
Rob sits down with the rest of the team for a Christmas dinner. It may not be what he is used to, spending holiday time with his family and fiancé, eating… eating good food in their company, but as he looks around the table, he sees twenty-one remaining players on the team, his second family away from home. Missing in their company is Mark Wells, who is recovering his injured ankle, but the team hopes he will be able to make a full recovery and rejoin them…at least until someone gets cut again.
“Earth to Mac. What is wrong with you?” Ralph Cox waves his hand in front of Mac’s nose, shaking the brunette awake.
“Nothing. I was just thinking…” “Hope that didn’t hurt you too much,” Mouse quips from the other side of the table and grins as Rob glares daggers at him: “Careful with your words, Mouse.”
“Come on, Ricky, you know how it usually ends for you when things get too rough. If you don’t remember, ask your teeth,” Suter chuckles and ignores Mac’s glare. Magic next to Rob puts hand on his linemate’s shoulder: “Mac, ignore them. They are pranking you.”
“Thanks, Magic… at least someone normal ‘round here.”
“Now you are insulting us, Ricky,” Steve Christoff teases his old high school rival. Mac sighs in response – not that he doesn’t like them, they are a great bunch of people to hang out with and to share the ice with, but sometimes, he misses the normality of his every day life in Minnesota, the teammates he has known for ages, his family, who has been supporting him through thick and thin, his fiancé who he was intending to spend Christmas with. He even misses the lake behind his home, where he grew up. That frozen water he learnt to skate on, holding on to a chair to keep his balance.  
“Seriously, what is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
He glances over at Magic, who smiles at him, letting him know he understands his struggle. Despite being formal rivals, two brunettes get along better than anyone would expect. Could be some personality traits they share, but they both know it’s something more than that. And mutual understanding is just one of the reasons why they are jokingly called “a power couple”.
“Then stop being such a sour wolf,” Riff sighs.
I will give you a sour wolf, Rob keeps his thoughts to himself. He finishes his dinner quietly. Staying true to his polite nature, he doesn’t leave the table right away and waits for the toast, adding a little something himself. Then, he finally excuses himself and heads towards the room he shares with Magic Johnson. It doesn’t take long for his partner in crime to join him, sitting on his bed: “Is it about Debbie?” “Not just her. Everyone back home. It was a tradition for me to come home for Christmas and spend some time with them.”
“I miss my family too, Robbie. But you know what makes it a bit easier for me?”
Brunette looks up at him and sits on the his bed, leaning his back against the wall: “What?” “The thought of them seeing me in Lake Placid. Being with them after the victories and, as much as I hope that won’t happen, after defeats.” “Have I ever told you Debbie never liked hockey, actually? And she didn’t know who I was. Which was one of the reasons I fell for her. And because of her brain, she is the smartest girl I have ever met.”
Mark laughs: “About a thousand times, but it’s fine. I understand.”
“Thanks, Magic. You are the only sane person here.” “Careful, you don’t want the others to hear you.”
“Yeah, I don’t want that. I wanna get married after the Olympics, move in with Debbie…”
“She agreed to move with you wherever you go?”
“She did. And her parents gave me their permission to marry her. But we are a bit worried what the life there will bring.” Magic sits down next to his friend: “I know you will find the way to make everything work.” “You think?” “I know, Rob. It’s obvious how much you love her.”
Magic man’s Minnesotan friend blushes slightly: “Is it really that obvious?” “Yeah. It is. But I think that’s how it should be.”
“Thanks, Magic. You are a helluva guy, even though you are a Badger.” “Don’t get too cocky with your championship rings, Robbie.”
First game in the year of 1980 takes the team to Indiana, where they face the Indianapolis team. Mere three days after the New Year’s celebration takes tool on almost everyone on the team, including Rob McClanahan, Mark Johnson and also Neal Broten, or as Rob calls him, Mouse. Nineteen-year-old sat down next to Rob when they left Minnesota and has been seating next to him ever since. Somewhere on the road, they both fell asleep and Neal’s head landed on Rob’s shoulder. Unfortunately for Robbie, a slight tiny trace of dried saliva ended on his team jacket. And he wakes up before Neal, realizing that.
“MOUSE!”
His yelp wakes up Neal, who first screws his eyes and then looks at his teammate still half asleep: “Yeees?” “What is your DNA doing on my jacket?” “What DNA? Are you still drunk?” younger Gopher sounds honestly surprised.
“I am not drunk, I just want to know what is your saliva doing on my jacket.”
Neal looks at what Rob is pointing at, then lifts his eyes to Rob again: “You really had to wake me up for this?”
When Rob says nothing, Neal sighs tiredly: “I am sorry for not controlling my body while sleeping. It won’t happen again.”
Rob smiles a bit and ruffles his young friend’s hair, knowing how much he hates when his hair is getting messed up by anyone. Neal groans in annoyance and tries to swat Rob’s hand away: “Can you stop it?”
“Lemme think…no. You drooled on my sweater and you still squeak, so you deserve this.” “I do not!” “You squeaked again,” Rob sighs, ruffling Neal’s brown hair even more, which causes a brunette to furrow his eyebrows in annoyance.
On the ice, some Indianapolis’ players soon become annoyed with Magic’s waltzing on the ice and making their defense look like amateurs. And with Rob and Silk on the same line, Herb really put his magical line on the ice. But Neal’s game is stellar as well, the second youngest guy on the team playing the game of his life. And that is too much for a few of Indianapolis Checkers’ players as twenty-one-year-old Dave Cameron targets Magic. He checks him high and hard, aiming for his throat. Rob doesn’t hesitate a second, even though he is not much of a fighter, but the guy was targeting his best friend on the team, a guy he never thought he would get so well along. Rob pulls Cameron’s jersey: “What is your problem?”
“Who the hell are you?” Rob shoves him, feeling the anger flow through his veins: “Rob McClanahan and Mark’s teammate.” “Should that tell me anything. You are a no one. A no one. And this fancy jersey is just a cover. To hide untalented son of a bitch.”
“Hate to ruin your fantasy, but I have more talent than you will ever have.”
“Anyone could take your pathetic spot. And this Johnson guy…he had it coming.”
His words finally tip Rob off and he finally drops his gloves, something he hasn’t done in a while. He gets into a fight with another player. Even though he hasn’t fought in ages, he puts Cameron on the ice and the two angered players are finally separated. A tiny bit of blood is seeping from the corner of Rob’s lip and his right eye is surrounded by dark purple bruise. But it doesn’t matter to him. Even sitting five minutes for getting into a fight is the price he is willing to pay for standing up for his teammate and his friend.
After the game, Jack O’Callahan steps to him and chuckles: “I never thought I would see you fight.” “Because I didn’t fight you in Colorado, it doesn’t mean I don’t fight.”
“For someone, who has almost zero experiences, that was a good fight. Not great, but acceptable.” “It wasn’t about the fight. That prick targeted Magic…” “The point is, Candyass, that I am maybe proud of you for finally growing a pair.”
Blue-eyed dirty-blonde approvingly pats Rob’s shoulder and walks back to his stall. Rob realizes he never thought he would get a pat of an approval from a guy, whom he hid his wallet from when they met for the first time in the locker room. He actually tucked his wallet into his shoe to hide it from a dangerous-looking hockey player from Charlestown.
Next to approach him is Magic: “Mac, you didn’t have to get into a fight for me.” “He targeted you. For no reason.” “I appreciate it, but what you did was…” “A thank you would be enough.” “Thank you, I really appreciate what you did for me, but…” “You are my teammate and my best friend here. You would do the same thing for me, right?” With a small smile, Magic answers: “I would. Thanks, Robbie. Especially since neither you or I are fighters. So this means even more to me.”
~August 1980, Rob’s wedding~
“Are you nervous?” Mark Johnson asks his former linemate and a good friend from the Olympic Team, Robbie McClanahan. It’s a hot August morning and it’s the day for Rob and his soon-to-be-wife, Deborah.
“Why would I be? It’s just a wedding…” tall brunette looks at his friend, who has just gotten married a few months ago. But he can’t fool him, they have been teammates for eight long months and soon after meeting, became also good friends. And not to mention, their friend from the U, young and excited Neal Broten, who has known Rob for a bit longer.
“Mac, you are super nervous. Can you believe Debbie even went out with you?”
“What are you trying to say, Brots?” Rob’s brown eyes now focus on cherubic-faced center from Roseau, Minnesota, who only grins: “Nothing at all, nothing at all.”
“Don’t mind him, he is still just a child. Wedding is probably still out of question.”
“That’s what you think,” Neal mumbles, but says nothing more when the two of his friends turn to him.
“Neal, did you say you are planning to get married….” “Yeah. But, tonight’s about you and Debbie.”
“Just tell me one thing: any ideas how are you going to propose? I started thinking about it a year before I proposed.”
“I know for sure I won’t go down on one knee.”
“But…” “I think I am just going to buy her a ring. And tell her I believe we should get married.”
Two older men look at twenty-year-old, their expressions nothing but masks of disbelief.
“So you won’t even ask her?” “Of course I will. But first I have to talk to her father.” Magic pats Neal’s shoulder: “I did that before I proposed to Leslie, it makes a good impression.” “Sorry, Magic, but I won’t ask her for her hand. Well, I will, but first I have to tell him I am not marrying his daughter before we move in together.”
“Are you…are you serious? And is Susie willing to cope with your, pardon my language, bullshit?”
The debate is interrupted as Rob’s mom enters the room: “I still can’t believe my little boy is getting married. And with such a wonderful lady like Deborah is.”
She ruffles her son’s brown hair, making him groan in annoyance. She knows how much he dislikes having his hair messed up, yet she still does it. Just to annoy him, like everyone else.
“Mother, you know I don’t like this.” “I know, but your father and I are so proud of you. Such a remarkable young man, don’t you agree?” she looks at Magic and Neal, who are now both trying to hide grins.
“Robbie is a great guy and a teammate,” Magic nods and pats now blushing Rob’s shoulder.
“And he looks amazing in a tux,” Neal continues, trying to keep straight face.
“Mom, can you leave us alone? Please?” Rob looks at his mom with pleading eyes. She knows how much he doesn’t like being exposed like that, but she still likes to embarrass him like that time to time. Now she looks at him and kisses his flushed cheeks before leaving the room: “I will see you at the wedding, Robbie. Remember, your dad and I are so proud of you.”
As soon as the door close behind her back, Rob looks at his friends, who barely keep straight faces.
“Don’t you dare to say a word…”
“W-We weren’t planning to,” Neal mutters, trying hard not to burst out laughing.
“Magic, can you lock him in the bathroom, please?”
“Oh, come on, Rob, we are just trying to ease up the tensions a bit.” “What tensions? I am not tense…” Magic takes a glass from Mac’s hands and looks at him: “You’ve had enough of those. And yes, you are tense. Relax a bit, you have been with Debbie for so long.”
“I am not tense.” “You are. Rob, trust me, getting married might be a big step, but it’s worth it. Believe me, I couldn’t be happier with Leslie.” “Because you have been dating since high school. I don’t want to make a mistake, I want this day to be perfect.” Neal realizes it’s not the time for jokes, that his friend needs his support now more than ever: “And it will be, Robbie. You and Debbie are meant to be. Don’t worry, everything will be perfect.”
Rob sighs and fights the urge to ruffle his hair once again: “I really hope so. I just hope Debbie will like the ceremony.” “Stop worrying already. Believe me, once you see her in her wedding dress as she walks down the aisle, you know you have made a right choice.” Unexpectedly both Magic and Mouse hug Rob, who returns them a hug without hesitation.
“Thank you so much. It means a lot to me to have you here.”
“No problem, Rob. You are our friend and Debbie is a great girl.”
Rob looks at both of his friends again. The Olympics were truly a great experience. 
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ladyloveandjustice · 7 years
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JFA the final case everything happens so much part 1
I cannot believe Maya literally threatened to tell eight yr old Pearl crude sex jokes about Nick unless he did what she wanted (I’m not exaggerating, she starts off “ONE TIME, AT LAWYER CAMP, NICK-“)
Nick is so upset and scared when Maya is kidnapped that he almost passes out. Again, I’m not exaggerating, the screen keeps going all blurry and then slips back into focus and he things “my eyesight is fading!”
Nick last case: lol Maya I wish I could sell u to the circus and get u out of my hair
Nick now: GIVE MAYA BACK I’LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING DO YOU WANT MONEY I WILL GIVE YOU ALL OF MY MONEY I DON’T HAVE MUCH BUT I CAN ROB A BANK OR SOMETHING I CAN CUT MY LEFT ARM OFF IF YOU WANT THAT JUST GIVE HER BACK
Like the fact Nick yells “I’LL GIVE YOU MONEY” when he has. None. I truly believe if the kidnapper had wanted money Nick would have grabbed every rich person at this gala and screamed at them until they forked it over. That was his plan.
Aggggh Adrian. She makes me so sad in this part.
And GUESS WHO ARRIVES IN OUR TIME OF NEED with his triumphant “HERE I AMMMMM THE BIGGEST ASSHOLE IN THE UNIVERSE” music. And the first thing he does is tease his little sister. And Franziska is like “WHY ARE YOU HERE I DIDN’T WANT TO SEE YOU GO AWAY” despite the fact she like….directly told us she was waiting for him to come back last case. And even got mad at Phoenix for ~driving him away~. Being a transparent tsundere is a family trait guys.
Phoenix is understandably upset and also all about BLATANT LIES and says “I-I NEVER WANTED TO SEE YOU AGAIN. ALSO.”
To which Miles is like “that’s not a warm welcome to someone you have’t seen in a year :(” OH MY GOD MILES. SERIOUSLY.  YOU DO NOT GET TO BE HURT ABOUT THIS. HE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD THAT IS A BIG DEAL.
But Miles genuinely doesn’t seem to understand that and decides Phoenix just hates him. “Your hatred for me is quite unhealthy…not to mention one-sided.” HE DOESN’T HATE YOU HE IS OBVIOUSLY VERY HURT. PLEASE LEARN ABOUT BASIC HUMAN EMOTIONS MILES I KNOW IT’S HARD. BUT WHEN SOMEONE THINKS SOMEONE THEY CARE ABOUT HAS KILLED THEMSELVES AND THAT PERSON COMES BACK AND ACTS LIKE NOTHING HAS HAPPENED.IT IS UPSETTING.
Wow speaking of killing yourself Miles specifically mention he hates reading suicide reports and seems to have a weird understanding of Adrian’s mindset. And then there’s this:
Phoenix: Then... That means her super-confident attitude...
Edgeworth: It's all a façade. She's only copying her mentor's behavior to hold herself together.
Wow, THAT SOUNDS FAMILIAR. Yeah I’m on the lookout to see whether I can decide if I think Miles genuinely was considering suicide when he left the note, and it’s already leaning very heavily in that direction.
Maya is smart enough not only to contact Mia and get her to pass info on to Phoenix, but she manages to escape from her room and look around for clues. PHOENIX IS IMPRESSED AND SO AM I. Also I liked playing as Maya I wish it was longer.
NOW IT’S COURT TIME AND THAT FUCKER SHOT FRANZISKA so we get Miles instead. He is going on about the ~truth~ he has discovered. IT BEGINS. WITNESS THE BIRTH OF A MONSTER.
Phoenix: TIME TO FIRE UP THE AFTERBURNERS AND HIT THE HIGHWAY TO THE DANGER ZONE.
 Are you kidding me right now Nick.
Miles: HMPH. USING ANYWAY TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT. A CONVENIENT EXCUSE FOR A WEAK MAN.
Literally anything he says I can imagine coming up in marital arguments with Phoenix and it is hilarious and fits perfectly.
Phoenix calls himself a foolishly foolish fool if he messes up at one point HE HAS ADOPTED FRANZISKA’S TITLE FOR HIM.
And then this. This iconic moment:
Edgeworth: Maybe YOU should be stripped naked and run out for making a mockery of this court!
Phoenix: E-EXCUSE ME!?
KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS MILES.
Miles has gotten really good at calling Phoenix since his absence has he been practicing the courtroom zingers in his head the whole time he was away. He has hasn’t he. But like:
Miles: What are you mumbling to yourself about now!? Have you just been rambling all this time without any sense of inner monologue!?
YOUR INNER MONOLOGUE TEXT IS BLUE PHOENIX GET THE COLOR RIGHT.
TO BE CONTINUED
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ecotone99 · 5 years
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[MF] The Chaos Around Me
I often feel disconnected from the world, just a little bit. Not in such a bad way though. I’m just not great at interacting with people. Some are really easy to talk to, and I’m thankful for that. Also, it’s not like I don’t have friends. I’ve got a few of those, and again, I’m thankful. But, I do spend most of my time by myself, just sort of observing the world and people around me.
There are several stores and restaurants that I visit regularly. I always find it surprising and, because I’m a garbage person, a little bit annoying that I can frequent a place for a year or longer, and the regular workers don’t recognize me. It’s not that I think I’m such an interesting guy, but fuck. Am I that plain and forgettable? Maybe I’m just so boring or ugly, that their mind automatically chooses to forget me. Some sort of Darwinism learned trait. Who knows?
More than anything I find it concerning that people don’t notice small stuff like this. How am I supposed to have any faith in the world, when people have no idea what’s happening around them in their daily lives? Maybe they all just live miserable arduous lives that constrain their minds and spirits to nothing other than the task at hand and they’re robbed of the simple freedom to observe and analyze the world they occupy. I hope it’s not that.
I like to notice what’s happening. Compared to my personal experiences of not being noticed after repeated interactions, I feel like I watch the world with a borderline stalker’s perspective. This is dumb though. Put more simply, I pay attention and they don’t. I spend a lot of time walking around my city and mouthing shy half audible hello’s to the people I pass on the street. Most people either throw a greeting back or simply don’t say anything. Also, some are clearly on meth, but I’ll still say hi anyway. I don’t expect much of a response with those people, but they’re still people.
I notice the people that are usually walking around my apartment complex. The maintenance guy gets started everyday around 7 am. I see him in the morning when I take my dog out. He’s a good guy, but just an ok maintenance worker. My toilet is definitely still broken. I also see a man and his four daughters, usually outside in the evenings. His daughters are incredibly sweet and well spoken for such young kids. I would tell him this, but he usually just lets the kids outside to play and returns indoors. Hopefully he doesn’t think I’m some stupid creep. And I don’t know how he does it because that’s way too many. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without his hands literally being full, and our complex only offers 2 bedroom floor plans. I’m glad the sisters all get along because they probably all share one room.
There’s another guy who lives in the building that rides a skateboard everywhere. I find him fascinating. If I had to guess, I’d say he looks right around 30. He’s always dressed casually and has hair most comparable to dreadlocks. I’ve never heard him speak but he has an unfriendly visage. He has a wife and she has a tattoo that takes up a good portion of the right side of her face. I can’t tell what it is because how the fuck do you look at a tattoo on someone’s face without staring at them? When she’s not muttering to herself, she says hi in passing. In their own way they’re both actually attractive looking, but incredibly rough around the edges. They also have a small daughter. Sometimes when I see them walking together, the man is still on the skateboard and the other 2 are left behind on foot. I hope this isn’t some metaphor for their future.
I feel like you have to hand it to him, he’s clearly doing what he loves, but fuck that has to be the most inefficient way to travel. What’s more perplexing is that it somehow still involves wheels! Usually wheels make things go faster, but how fast can you go when you have to stop every time there’s a break or uneven pavement. If he has to cross a field of grass, it might as well be the entirety of the ocean as far as the skateboard is concerned. I think he should move to San Francisco and find a job located at the bottom of a nice big hill. I’ve never actually seen him leave for work though, so maybe just a liquor store at the bottom of a big hill. I assume with the many years he’s logged on his beloved board that he can handle it. I think this would greatly improve the quality of his life.
I ride a bicycle for transportation and it makes me feel stupid. I’m not sure why, but I really enjoy it anyway. When I pass by him and other skateboarders at many times the speed, it makes me feel less stupid about riding a bike. It’s getting late and work is almost over. I’m not a writer, but I’m at work, so I am getting paid as I write this. Soon, I’ll have to ride my bike home and then walk the dog.
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ecotone99 · 5 years
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[HM] ‘My name is Legend!’ (Disturbing incident at the downtown diner)
“WHY-the-HELL is this crazy bitch screaming at ME for?”; the incensed giant in the corner complained bitterly. There was nothing but an empty chair across from him. “Do you have ANY idea, Jesse?”; He bellowed loudly; with a not-so-subtle hint of disgust. The only other patron in the diner was understandably startled by his nonsensical outburst.
She watched in bewilderment as his psychotic attentions were directed at the unoccupied area in front of the booth! The powerfully-built man continued to ‘stare a hole’ into the imaginary eyes of someone he perceived before him. The onlooker watched in astonishment as the agitated restauranteur become even more belligerent at his phantom nemesis.
His hyper-focused gaze was transfixed on ‘the crazy bitch’; when he wasn’t seeking the input of ‘invisible Jesse’. With venom in his eyes, he clenched his jaw and gnashed his teeth in a further sign of fury. “Why are you yelling at me? I’ve done nothing to you!; He exclaimed once again. (His non-existent attacker uttered no audible response.) “I don’t have a clue what you are talking about. I’ve done nothing of the sort!”; He sneered with increasing intensity.
Finally summoning up the courage to speak (after the initial shock was over); the lady timidly inquired who his misplaced rage was directed at. The intimidating hulk of a man ignored her question as if he wasn’t even aware of her presence. Instead he continued the disturbing one-sided argument with the intangible source of his irritation. “I don’t care what you do! You started this while I was minding my own business! Go on then; Call ‘em. See if I care! Jesse and I weren’t doing anything but eating.”
“Mister, are you... umm ‘ok’?”; She asked cautiously. “There’s no one in front or beside you. Do you want me to call someone to help?” Her louder appeal to render assistance garnered the same complete lack of response. He was clearly in his own world. No one connected with reality was going to break in and disturb it.
“Listen lady”; He began with a noticeable quaver of restraint in his voice. At first the startled patron thought he finally heard her but his next rant revealed he was still deep in his psychosis. “I don’t know why you are attacking me or being so abusive but I’m not going to take it much longer! I wasn’t bothering anyone. Jesse and I were just here eating our meal when you started shrieking and calling us names. It is really uncalled for!”
“What are YOU talking ABOUT?”; She retorted incredulously. With her patience gone, sarcastic aggravation became apparent in her responses. “You must be out of your freakin’ mind, you big loony! I was just sitting here eating my salad. For no apparent reason, you started ranting at the top of your lungs! I haven’t said ONE WORD to you before right now. As a matter of fact, we've yet to even made eye contact because you’re staring into space and babbling to imaginary persons! Behavior like that points to the need for some serious psychiatric help.” Almost immediately she regretted losing her temper at someone who obviously had considerable mental problems.
The ‘nut job’ continued to stare in the opposite direction while shaking his head vigorously in denial. At first she assumed he had finally snapped out of his hallucinatory psychosis but his next rambling statement contradicted that.”Bitch, I’ll kill you deader than 3 O’clock if you ever call me ‘Dave’ again! My name is Legend!”
The woman’s natural fear instinct had been temporarily delayed but it rose to a terror crescendo after hearing his homicidal threats. For all she knew, ‘Legend’ was an extremely dangerous psychiatric escapee; and not just a harmless GIANT spouting idle threats.
At that very moment, a much smaller man walked in the dining room. He stopped dead in his tracks the instant he saw the sheer panic in her eyes. Further arousing her apprehension, the new, diminutive patron appeared to be making a beeline for the psychotic hulk’s table. That observation worried her even more because the only thing worse than being alone with ONE delusional psycho; was being alone with TWO!
“Did he say or do something strange?” The man asked her nervously. “He hasn’t been ‘right’ since he was shot in the head by bank guards during an attempted robbery. Since that day his perception of reality has been seriously skewed; as well as his concept of time. I am his ‘custodial guardian’, Jesse. I want to apologize for any worry he may have caused. I only left for a few minutes to make a phone call but if he has one of his ’episodes’; that’s all it takes!
I hope he didn’t scare you too much. He used to be a very successful boxer with a perfect TKO record before he got addicted to crack. That’s how he earned the boxing nickname: ‘Legend’. After that serious career detour, he turned to a life of crime to support his consuming narcotic habit. Luckily he's only on legal, anti-psychotics now." Realizing it was a lot to absorb, he added: "I know he's a huge, menacing-looking guy but his doctors have declared him ‘cured’ and no real threat to society anymore.”
“I’ve got some news for you; Jesse! Regardless of what his ‘expert’ doctors say”; She spat. “he appears to be dangerously paranoid and psychotic. That’s certainly not traits the public wants to see in a free roaming, monster-sized behemoth who would have trouble squeezing into a normal-sized straight jacket. He’s definitely not ‘right'; as you delicately put it. Saying he is ‘cured’ is a wee-bit, premature.
He swore up and down that I was yelling at him when I hadn’t said a word to him at that point! He was even ‘talking to you’ before you returned from your call. Whenever I asked if he needed ‘help’; he ignored me because he was lost in his fantasy world. In the beginning I tried to explain I hadn’t said anything but he became belligerent and made serious threats TO-MY-LIFE! Or at least, it seemed to be directed at me.
Unfortunately as the exchange became more heated toward the end, I lost my temper a bit and resorted to childish name-calling. I even raised my voice a tad however I swear; I did nothing to provoke him. It just came out of the blue!”
Jesse listened to her rather unpleasant experience with ‘Legend’; and then did his best to explain. “Interestingly, one of the few positive side-effects of massive brain trauma like his is that he somehow developed occasional clairvoyant ability! When his sugar levels drop too low, he can sometimes see a few minutes into the future! It’s the craziest thing. ‘Legend’ actually experiences significant life events a few minutes before they happen!
A few minutes ago he was probably ‘seeing’ a vision of your conversation AFTER it became heated! He just failed to understand that he was the one who actually started it by reacting negatively (to something that hadn’t happened yet). He has an explosive temper and long history of murder, rape and violent crime but hopefully that is behind him. He’s actually trying to do something good for the world now by being studied by a team of research parapsychologists.
They are fascinated because of the amazingly high level of accuracy he has exhibited in predicting the future. He just has to learn to recognize that his premonitions are FUTURE events so he can avoid getting ‘wrapped up’ in them before they happen. We are hoping to teach him to channel his energies in a more positive way from now on.”
By coincidence, “Legend’ interrupted Jesse and started speaking to the phantoms of his premonitions again. “Honestly officer”; He pleaded pointlessly to an invisible homicide detective. “I didn’t mean to kill her! Something inside me just snapped! I found my hands around her throat; twisting, squeezing, crushing. I just couldn’t stop choking her; I couldn’t let go. I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t stop until I knew she was dead! She had been mocking me a few minutes earlier in the restaurant and...”
Jesse interrupted. “Oh My GOD! Run lady! Run! I’ll try to hold him off long enough for you to get away!”
The lady let out a blood-curdling-scream and tore out of the restaurant to flee for her life.
'Legend' looked Jesse in the eyes for the first time, and both broke into huge belly laughs. “Man, we are REALLY getting good at this food scam!”; Jesse snorted. “You should have seen the look on her face when I told her that you had a long history of murder and violent crimes!” I thought she was going to pee her pants! It’s too bad you couldn’t watch her reactions. It’s hilarious! I don’t see how you keep a straight face during your ‘crazy man’ act.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s hard to stay in character when people get so furious at me but we gotta’ eat, right? Too bad we can’t use this same set up to rob banks, or bilk investors out of their cash.” Both men laughed at the thought of ‘the crazy man and Jesse’ scam being used to swindle investors.
“Alright we gotta’ hurry before she brings the police back. I get her peas and you can have the corn. That blackened salmon sure looks good. We can split it if you want....”
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