#House Design Simulator | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

des2dream · 5 months ago

Text

IndieAnimationDay Highlights✨

Say 'Yay'! It's IndieAnimationDay! A day to celebrate all those independent animators, storyboard artists, cleanup animators, writers etc. out there because we all know how difficult it is to work on animation. We also know how difficult it is to be given dreadful deadlines, people not crediting your work, and dealing with the presence of A.I. Today is the day to celebrate those who give it their all to make something all their own without anyone holding them back! I have three special projects I'd like to highlight for this occasion.

1. Pretty Pretty Please I Don't Want To Be A Magical Girl!✨🌃🧀

In our first installment, we have an upcoming animatic project, Pretty Pretty Please I Don't Want To Be A Magical Girl created by @kianamaiart. Our main character, Aika is an optimistic & excitable teenage girl eager to try new things....as long as one of those new things doesn't involve being a magical girl. Well, too bad for her because she is now "The Chosen One" and has to stop Lady DeVoid from plaguing the world in darkness with the help of her star being aid, Hoshi and her new manga-loving friend, Zira. I love this concept so much! As someone who enjoys watching Sailor Moon (the catalyst for Magical Girls), it's such a fun idea to see how much these familiar magical girl tropes will get shut down by either Aika or any other characters. I also really love the character designs, the art style, and the voice cast. We have the voice actresses for Mirko in My Hero Academia and Madoka Magica (one of the other popular Magical Girls)! You should also check out the rest of the cast. I'm so excited!

2. Lumi and the Great Big Galaxy👽🌌🌟

For our next installment, we have an upcoming animated pilot, Lumi and the Great Big Galaxy created by @starteas. The story has a group of alien friends traveling the galaxy in order to help a lost star named, Lumi find their way back home. As soon as I saw this, it gave me Wander Over Yonder vibes which is cute because it's actually one of the inspirations for this pilot. The same thing goes for Steven Universe! Two animated shows that I love so much! Starteas had been working on this pilot for a long time and you can tell if you've seen their art over the years with how much the character designs change. I feel like I'll really enjoy this cast of wacky characters and I'm more hooked on the supposed villain, Void who has one of the best designs for a bad guy. This pilot looks so cute! I have a feeling I'm really going to enjoy it!

3. Knights of Guinevere💙👑🗡

Here is our last installment! Created by @danaterrace (creator of The Owl House), John Bailey (writer in The Owl House & Future Worm), & Zach Marcus (writer, storyboard artist, & designer/The Owl House & Star Vs. The Forces of Evil) comes the next future animated pilot, Knights of Guinevere. The project is also partnered with Glitch Productions (making this their first 2D animation). We don't have much context on this pilot, but it does involve a space princess in a theme park called, Park Planet. As for the premise, my guess is it may involve the princess not being what she seems, a woman stuck in a fantasy simulation, or maybe the princess is a broken-down robot continuously stuck as a mascot. We won't know until later, but I am excited for what's to come since it plans to be released sometime later this year. I've been a fan of Glitch's previous successful animated shows like Digital Circus & Meta Runner, so I hope this will turn out well in the end.

Happy IndieAnimation Day, everyone! You have the ability to make your dreams come true and I find animation to be one of the best forms of creation and storytelling. Even if you're not an animator, you're still capable of creating what you want. Art is everywhere and it is beautiful!

#indie animation day #indie animation #aika idwtbamg #idwtbamg #lumi and the great big galaxy #knights of guinevere #creative inspiration

2K notes · View notes

centrally-unplanned · 5 months ago

Text

I was going through some archived scans of 90's otaku magazines, as is my sacred duty, and I stumbled on this ad for a Sega Saturn game I did not know:

The pitch of Roommate (as seen here) is that of a "real time" romance simulation:

What makes it real-time is that the game progresses in sync with the Saturn's internal clock. In that way [main girl] Ryoko is just like a real girl; she has her own daily habits and lives her life accordingly. So if you start the game in the afternoon, you might not be able to meet her because she's at school [...] The purpose is to enjoy living together with Ryoko in real time and communicating with her.

And this is exactly the kind of way-too-convoluted gimmick that sacrifices gameplay functionality on the altar of conceptual novelty based on random technology add-ons present in new-gen consoles of the era that I just love. Obviously the concept of starting a game and having the main girl not be present so you cannot play is completely asinine - but think of the realism!

Between that and the discount-Sadamoto 90's character designs, I wanted to see it for myself; so I spent way, way too long setting up a Sega Saturn emulator. In my experience early CD-ROM-based consoles often require much more bespoke set-ups to get working, in this case custom BIOS files in the emulator firmware directories, and JPN-language ones at that for this game. But I got it to work and oh yeah, this is some early "digital" console era crust:

Playing this game is just painful. The clock of course means that you essentially can't play it at all - looking at YouTube comments on the very few Let's Plays and such that exist, people are reminiscing about how they could never find Ryoko because their schedules didn't align. One person even comments:

This game is for NEETs and shut-ins

Which is a valid demo I guess! But it doesn't really stop there - your house is a "fully realized" 3D environment of bare walls which you navigate with clunky controls. Let me log in and take some screenshots...

Jesus Christ it's 10 pm and you are cooking dinner?! The one time I don't want this ghost popping out of the cracks in the floorboards, I swear...

Okay, got rid of her (She broke a plate -_- you moved in yesterday, girl):

You walk, in real time (step by step) through this pixel museum just...hoping that one of the rooms will contain Ryoko and proc a dialogue event based on the time of day. There is a little more to it than that but that is essentially the gameplay. This would, very obviously, be simply better as a straightforward visual novel.

But you see how that just isn't as cool in 1997, right? This is the era where the fidelity of graphics and the technology for simulation is progressing at a rapid clip, and everyone wants to see the boundaries pushed. Roommate isn't the first "real time simulation" game, but it is the most pure, the one fully committed to the bit. Your house is completely mapped out, the girl has her routine, you walk step by painful step through the rooms because this is "real", you are living it. They even use a live photo for the outside of the house to sell the aesthetic (and also save money):

Ryoko is waiting in the kitchen of that house when you come home from work, putting on an apron, ready to cook dinner. For you.

Assuming you get home at whatever fucking 30 minute window the game decided to gatekeep its gameplay behind! But of course I exaggerate - it wasn't that bad (there are little mechanics you can use to set some schedule times in the game for example), player tolerance for bullshit was way higher then, and you were expected to buy strategy guides for these things. So even though it was panned by critics on release...it was a sleeper hit with a devoted fanbase.

Which means it got a ton of sequels and ports! We don't have to go through them all, though I will share my favorite factoid about the first sequel - "ROOMMATE ~Ryoko in Summer Vacation~" from the wiki:

The character designs are significantly different from the previous game (especially Ryoko's brown hair and large breasts).

Priorities, baby. But some of the ports are interesting because of the changing tech. A version was ported to the PlayStation, which does not have the internal clock a Sega Saturn had. But coincidentally it did have the PocketStation, a handheld GameBoy/Tamagotchi hybrid expansion tool that did have an internal clock and could sync with the game. It also let you track Ryoko's schedule and play mini-games, with some very adorable animations as you can see in this ad for the product that featured Roommate:

This device absolutely reminds me of the Disc Fax system discussed in my Miho Nakayama essay - a very niche product biting off more than it can chew making games overly complex to play but allowing things that would otherwise be impossible (and this one was a good deal more successful at least). Here it allowed Roommate's central gimmick to function - and is super cute, honestly I would buy a standalone tamagotchi version of this game.

The PS1 also couldn't quite handle how the game was built for the Sega Saturn graphics-wise, and as such a bunch of the 3D elements were sanded off into 2D simulacrums - most notably the house:

Which, despite this being a technological downgrade, is way better! It looks adorable, you can actually see what is going on and where Ryoko is, and you can navigate it way more cleanly. God, did...hold on let me tab back to the game...yeah, is there no clock in the original game on screen. That is insane. Anyway the PS1 version had a lot of these cute little graphical additions, even right on the title screen:

It is definitely the better looking version, which is a classic tale - in 1997 the "bleeding edge" of 3D graphics were impressive to players, even through their roughness. Now they just aren't, and so the retro charm of designs that are optimized what the mediums of the time could reliably handle have a lot more appeal.

There was also a PC port in 1998, which did exactly what I suggested and added an "adventure" mode where you could ignore the clock system. They definitely learned over time what worked and what didn't; but the appeal of the gimmick is what first sold it to players in the end.

All of this is to say, don't play Roommate, and if you do just emulate the PS1 game instead of torturing yourself with the Sega Saturn version. Oh...you weren't gonna play a Japanese-only abandonware 90's not-even-eroge dating sim to begin with? Ah, well, yeah, I guess that makes sense.

Man I should translate it shouldn't I? So people can play it...

#Roommate (1997)#ash plays visual novels #Ash otaku archives #mini-essay #Ryoko's design in that first ad is so cute and like everything here is downstream of that flash of affection

537 notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 7 months ago

Text

#Holiday Request I love all your AUs so much, thank you for sharing them! I've been craving some Bruce/Danny lately, would you be willing to write more of Freelance Inventor?

Danny helps his mom set the foldable table, lining it up with their dinner table and the second one he had placed previously. Quickly cleaning off the surface with a wet rag, Danny ensures there is no dust before laying a lovely red tablecloth on it.

The red material nearly hides the poinsettia embroiled in the design in a darker shade of red. He runs his hands over it, smiling at the memories this cloth has brought him.

His grandmother passed it down to his mother after his parent's marriage. It was initially meant to be used for Christmas dinners only as per Fenton tradition. Still, seeing as his parents always turned that into a month-long argument, the Fentons started to use it as a Thanksgiving dinner decoration only.

He always brightened whenever his mom would come down from the attic saying the truck of unique Thanksgiving tablecloths. There were seven altogether, but it warmed him whenever he saw it.

Maddie promised to give the trunk to the first of her children to marry, and secretly, Danny hoped it would be him. His sisters liked Thanksgiving fine but not as much as he.

Thanksgiving was his favorite holiday. His family always cooked together, played games, watched movies, had silly little Fenton traditions, and it was just a time to be together.

Bruce and his kids would be coming over this year. Alfred had hurt his back and could not cook Thanksgiving dinner as usual, so Danny asked if the Waynes could join them.

Ever since their friendship, Danny has spent Thanksgiving in Amity Park. Christmas in Gotham and New Year would be a switch between them. His family had been fine with him splitting the holidays, but his Dad had been asking for years for the two to mix, and this year would finally be it.

Danny finishes setting the plates, knives and forks down. He made sure to fold the napkins into animals for the respected person sitting there. A peacock for Alfred, A butterfly for Bruce, an elephant for Dick, a robin for Jason, a bat for Tim, A dog for Damian, an octopus for Steph, a swan for Cass, a bunny for Duck, a bear for Jazz, a cat for his mom, a jellyfish for Dad, an owl for Dani and finally gorilla for himself.

Danny has his own trunk for Thanksgiving, having started purchasing solid linen napkins when he was seven. He uses multiple sizes and colors to make his animals, and when he's done, he can't help but beam at the colorful animals on the plates.

Except for Alfred's. His peacock is sitting inside his wine glass, the green and blue of his tail falling over his plate.

In the kitchen, his mom and dad are dancing around each other, wiping up a meal that, for once, isn't anywhere near ectoplasm. The pair had gone in beforehand to remove contamination and cleaned it out, claiming they wanted to impress Bruce's family. This means that their food will likely not come to life this dinner.

It also meant the Waynes would be mighty surprised by how good chiefs his parents are. In the privacy of his heart, Danny keeps the secret that while Alfred was good, he was nowhere near Fentons' level of cooking.

Jazz comes down from upstairs, looking dazzlingly in her black dress and perfectly done make-up. The Fentons always dressed to the nines for Thanksgiving, even if they only stayed in their living rooms.

"Looks great, Danny!" She says with a bright smile,e eyeing the table and smiling when her eyes land on her bear. Danny had used a white napkin to simulate Bearbert's lab coat. "Finished with the rest of the house?"

Danny waves his hand, beaming at the decorations he has set up. The entire first floor had miniature pumpkins scattered about on tabletop surfaces. The couch cushions had been replaced with light orange ones. Hung up around doorways and surrounded windows were red, brown, and yellow leaves fines, interweaved with sunflowers.

Small sunflower wreaths were also placed on the walls, and linking them together was a sheer red cloth that dropped into small hoops between them.

A few larger pumpkins were placed near the walls, and some fake leafy vines were placed on the ground to resemble a pumpkin patch pathway. Danny loved the multiple scented candles and small acorn lights he had looped around the edges of the furniture, turning off the other lights to make them pop.

It gave a homey but festive vibe that he knows the Waynes are unused to. The decorations for their Holidays were always large and expensive. Brought together by a team of interior designers who made everything look great, just slightly artificial.

Or maybe that was Danny's middle-class mindset.

The Fentons had money- with his parent's PhDs, Danny's freelance, Jazz's brilliant work, and Dani's photos- but they had always remained with a middle-class mindset, never going for the over-the-top shows of wealth the Waynes had.

Even the clothes he had on now made him feel like they were too much, despite having bought them himself. He was wearing his best suit, and Bruce took him to get tailored because heaven knows Danny couldn't tell what was considered good quality. Although they hugged his body in all the right places, Danny felt silly.

"Wonderful work as usual." Jazz's smile turned even larger. His sister considers the hung-up wreaths with a critical eye. Danny moved to stand next to her as she sighed wishfully. "Remember the year you learned how to make those?"

Danny laughs. "Yeah, you biked me to all the hobby stores in Amity Park because I was determined to make my own decorations and didn't understand why a seven-year-old couldn't walk alone."

"You threw such a fit about standing on my training wheels while I petaled." She snorts, shifting her voice higher to emulate kid Danny. "Jazz, can't you go faster! People think we need training wheels like I could ride a bike without them. I literally hit a tree the day before!"

"I was embarrassed people were seeing us 'cause I didn't realize how awesome it was for my nine-year-old sister to do something like that for me." Danny side hugs her. "You were pretty amazing growing up, Jazz. I'm sorry I didn't realize it as a kid."

His elder sister hugs him back. "It's alright. I'm sorry I was so stubborn as a kid, too. You were right back then. We could have just walked."

"Yeah, but then we would have missed out on bonding in the hospital when we went down Sisneros Hill." Danny laughs. " The matching casts were a good lesson for how breaks worked."

Jazz snorts, then bursts into laughter as the memories play again behind her eyes. Danny finds himself joining her, and his heart swells with love. Eventually, they calm down long enough for Jazz's eyes to soften at the small table with crafts supplies. "You're going to include the Waynes in the Danny's decor tradition?"

"Yup." Danny rubs the back of his head. "I figured we could do it after Dinner. Before or during Dad's karaoke."

Danny planned on having the Wayne children make their own wreaths to add to his collection. He hoped they liked it as it was a Fenton tradition he started with his family when he was nine.

The one above the little table was the first ever wreath he made at nine years old. It looked terrible compared to the others, but it made him happy.

Jazz hums "I'm sure they will love it. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what's up."

"What's going on between you and Bruce?" Jazz turns to him, crossing her arms but not looking judgmental. If anything, there is only curiosity in her voice. "You've known him for ten years, you're heavily involved with his kids' upbringing, and even though you always travel for work, you always make time for him and the kids. Are you two dating?" "

Danny blinked, taken aback. "I mean....Bruce means a lot to me, but I'm not sure we have that kind of relationship."

Jazz considers his response before carefully asking, as if worried her words will offend "Do you want to have that kind of relationship with him?"

The question causes him to pause. He finds his mind drawing a blank even if his heart leaps a little in his chest.

"I don't know. You know I don't really feel urges like that." He admits after a while, leaning back into the wall and picturing Bruce's face. It flashes with a warmth that he rarely saw the billionaire betow upon anyone else. But did that make him excited? Was it only for him? Did he want to do things with Bruce?

He wrinkles his nose at the thought of Bruce and him in bed, but the idea of kissing the other man isn't so bad. Unusual since Danny always found the action to be gross.

"I know you're asexual, but that isn't the same thing as being aromantic." His sister says gently. "You can want to have a romantic relationship with someone without the physical aspects."

"I guess I just never considered it." He admits after a moment of the pair standing there. His mind is whirling with the idea now. He thought that after ten years, he had never considered the idea that Bruce was something more.

But in a way, he was. Bruce had somehow turned into one of his most important people, always playing in the back of his mind, and when Danny thinks of happiness, he imagines the Waynes. When someone says family, it isn't just his parents and sisters; it's the rich man with a heart of gold, his butler, and his ragtag team of children.

Goodness. When did that happen?

"That's alright if you don't," Jazz tells him. She nods her head to where his parents are finishing the touches on the dinner. Dani had come down at some point- looking fabulous in her red jumper- and was helping Dad with the fudge. "They consider Bruce your lover, you know? Mom and Dad still struggle with the concept of asexual, so don't let them pressure you tonight. They will start asking for you two to set a wedding date, and although I talked them out of it, don't be surprised if they corner you later."

Danny thinks back to all the graduations, the birthday cards, the Christmas presents, and the random visits his parents would do for the Wayne children. It hits him then that they had been treating them like grandchildren since Dick was nine, and he wonders why he never noticed before.

No wonder Dad has wanted mixed holidays for years now. They thought they were grandparents.

The strangest part? Danny was okay with it if they saw the Wayne children as grandchildren. It actually made him feel warm and proud to be their son.

But that would mean they saw Bruce as their son-in-law, and Danny wasn't sure how he felt about it yet. He liked it, but he was scared of what it implied.

Why did his heart leap with joy? Why did he imagine coming home to Bruce? Why did he feel giggly and nervous like a schoolboy again?

Had Danny....been in love with Bruce for years and never noticed? Is this feeling the same as other people's when they like someone romantically?

Jazz observes his face, able to read him long before she finishes her psychology degree in profiling. She must see his thoughts because she reaches out to place a comforting hand on his arms. "Whatever you figure out, Bruce has been here for ten years. He'll be here for ten more, even if it's just as friends."

The doorbells dings. Dani bounces out of the kitchen towards it with a cheer. "They're here!"

Danny glances over, and his eyes catch Bruce's warm ones over his younger sister's head. His heart flutters as his friend gives him that unique smile despite Dani clutching him in a bone-crushing hug. His children are piled behind him, and seeing it all makes him feel like the luckiest guy on earth.

Oh gods, was he in love?

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Freelace inventor #spirit halloween ship #Acesexual Danny Fenton #Why was danny so unaware for ten years? Because of that #Bruce loves him anyway and he might not be ace but he don't need it #Jazz being the MVP sister #Maddie and Jack are good parents. Just confused #Danny treats Thankgiving like Christmas #His favorite holiday #The slowburn is finally bareing fruit #holiday requests #Part 7

1K notes · View notes

valleydecor · 2 months ago

Text

Storage House

Items: Grains, Herbs, Spice

10 notes · View notes

annlyticalarchive · 2 months ago

Text

CHAPTER FIVE: The Return Back Home

”You will be different, sometimes you’ll feel like an outcast, but you’ll never be alone”

Mark Grayson X Kryptonian/Clark Kent! Reader

Prologue | Chapter Four| Chapter Five (Here) | Chapter Six

w/c: 3.2k

a/n: Did you know that not only does Jon Kent have Damian’s heartbeat memorized, but Clark Kent knows Bruce’s heartbeat too? I do. And had to use that.

You blink.

Then you're back in the barn. Blinking away tears that aren’t yours, shouldn’t be yours. You stumble a step, heart racing. The air feels heavier now, like it’s holding its breath with you.

You lift your hands to press your wrists against your eyes, only to flinch when an unfamiliar texture meets your skin.

What the hell are you wearing?

You pull your hands back and stare.

You’re in something that looks and feels like a cross between armor and a wetsuit. Smooth and cool like metal, but flexible like fabric.

The sleeves stretch down to the tops of your hands, but leave your palms bare.

The main body of the suit is a striking blue, form-fitting but flexible. It feels both impossibly light and impossibly strong, like woven metal and silk combined.

Your gaze drops to your chest, and your breath catches.

There it is.

The symbol that had been on the man’s chest is now emblazoned across yours: a bold red ‘S’ nestled inside a golden shield.

The sleeves stretch to your wrists, leaving your palms exposed. The suit transitions at mid-thigh into bright, scarlet red, forming sleek, seamless boots that, thankfully, have no heel. They’re lightweight, almost barefoot in feeling, but despite that they feel just like the rest of the suit, armored.

You stand there, stunned. Silent.

The pod is quiet, these small obelisk devises floating and clicking back into the pod as it stops glowing, now looking like you hadn’t touched it in years.

And without another word, you turn on your heel and walk back to the house.

You need your parents.

You could barely get the door open before Ma was right in front of you, arms already around your shoulders. She hugged you tight, holding on like she might never let go, then pulled back just enough to hold you at arm’s length, hands gripping your arms.

“I’m still me, Ma,” you said softly, offering a smile, though it came out a little more fragile than you meant.

“Of course you are,” she replied, returning the smile easily… but then her eyes dropped to your outfit. She stared for a moment, brow knitting.

“…What are you wearing?”

You exhaled. “I don’t know. One minute I was here, then I was in some kind of… simulation? And when I came back out, I was wearing this.” You gestured to the suit helplessly. “It just… appeared.”

Ma hummed thoughtfully, nodding even if she didn’t fully understand. Pa stepped up behind her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“You’ve always been Smallville’s little hometown hero,” he said, his tone quiet but knowing. “So I’m guessing you’ve been helping out in the city. That what brought all this on?”

You rubbed the back of your neck. “Heh, well—”

“Don’t even try it, kiddo,” Pa cut in with a look. Not stern. Just like he already knew the answer and only wanted to hear you say it.

You sighed. “Yeah. I have. I got… seen, too.”

Ma let out a quiet sigh of her own, though it wasn’t disappointment, more resignation. Familiar worry.

“Well, we both know you’re not about to stop helping,” she said, giving your arm a light squeeze. “And I wouldn’t want you to.”

She stepped back and looked you over again, eyes narrowing with a designer’s eye, “But if you’re going to be a hero, this suit? It’s missing something. Definitely needs a skirt.”

You laughed, and so did Pa, and before long they were pulling you back inside, into the warmth of home.

It took the rest of the weekend before Ma was satisfied with the additions. And you had to admit, you loved them.

The plain, otherworldly suit had been functional. But now? Now it felt yours.

Ma picked out the fabric herself at the local store. A bold red for the skirt, practical and free-moving, and a matching red for the cape, embroidered by hand with the same symbol from your chest, now stitched in shining gold thread on the back.

“If you’re going to go out there and help people, you need to look the part,” she said with a smile as you clipped on the cape and slipped on the skirt. Neither could be sewn directly into the suit, the material refused even Ma’s best needle, but they were expertly made to fit over it.

“Thank you, Ma,” you said, pulling her into a hug as Pa drove the van around front for the ride back to the city. “We’ll visit more. I’ll visit more.”

“You better,” she teased, patting your cheek gently, though her eyes shimmered with emotion. “Now that I’ve got even more reason to worry.”

As she turned to talk with Pa, you grabbed your suitcases and brought them to the van. You opened the trunk, set them inside and paused.

Only your bags were there.

No toolbox. No overnight bag. No coffee thermos tucked in the corner like every other roadtrip.

You frowned and turned. “Hey, Pa? Where’s your stuff?”

Pa paused. He looked at Ma, then back at you, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m not coming back with you this time,” he said gently.

“Wait, what? But what about the-“

“We have a few months til the results come back, kiddo.” Pa walks up to you and places a hand on your shoulder, “I can stay here with your Ma now. You can go back to the city.”

“You have a job there, a good one, that you love, right?” Ma adds in with a soft smile, “And friends. Like that Jimmy and Lois from your work. And that nice Grayson boy you tell me about.”

“Well… If both of you are okay with it,” You reluctantly close the trunk before giving Pa a hug.

“Of course we’re okay. A parent wants their kid to grow wings. Just remember to call, for my sake.” Ma says as she places a hand your back.

“Maybe not actual wings, we don’t know-“ Pa cuts in but is promptly interrupted by Ma.

“We want you to live the life you want. Just don’t forget your poor parents.” Ma places a kiss on your cheek as you shake your head fondly with a chuckle.

With that, you three said your goodbyes to each other. Hugs and kisses exchanged. Goodbyes said once more as you stepped into the car. And waved as you started it down the long gravel driveway to the road.

And on the drive back to the city, you don’t think you ever missed the constant noise more.

Growing up when the super hearing first started to develop, you only really noticed the overstimulation when you’d go into town. Smallville was a quiet most of the time, after all.

But after spending nearly two years in the city, you got used to the constant. And now, driving back in the silence, you couldn’t stand it.

So, you called your friends.

You started with dialing Jimmy. Who could only talk so long as he had gotten dragged to some sort of reunion event where everyone there wanted him to take personal photos for them.

Then you tried Mark. Whose phone immediately went to voicemail as if the device itself was shut off. With a quick apology for calling and a hopefully-doesn’t-sound-desperate request to call back for a conversation, you ended your voicemail.

Lastly, and you did kind of feel bad she was last on your list, you called Lois. Who, unsurprisingly, picked up after just one ring.

“Smallville! You have no idea what I just found!” Her voice crackled through the speakers, sounding like she was caught in a wind tunnel. Which you could only hope wasn’t the case.

“Please don’t tell me you’re getting yourself into danger.” You nearly pleaded with her as you found yourself pressing on the gas increasingly.

“No, of course not! I need you with me too. But listen-“ She began as you heard rustling.

“You know that big tech event at LexCorp? The one they’re holding tomorrow?” she asked, practically vibrating through the speaker.

“Yeah…” you said cautiously.

“Well, we’re the reporters covering it!” she squealed. You could just barely hear a thump, probably her hand smacking a desk in excitement. “I even convinced Perry to let us bring Jimmy, so all three of us are going. And—and! We’re asking my questions!”

“Lois,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose with one hand as you steered with the other. “you’re going to get us kicked out.”

“Oh, come on! LexCorp can’t kick out the press. Not without a PR disaster.” She sounded smug. You could already imagine the look on her face.

“You say that like it’s a challenge,” you muttered.

“Look, just read the cards once you’re back, okay? We can…” she groaned audibly, “compromise on which questions to ask.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you shook your head, “We’ll talk once I’m back. Meet me at the apartment?”

“You betcha, Smallville. I gotta go, want to look more into this weird Frankenstein biz- Talk to you when you’re back!”

“See you there, Lo,” and with that, the line disconnected.

Mark called around an hour or so later.

“You didn’t send me photos, ya liar.”he said immediately. No hello, no preamble. Not that either of you really bothered with greetings anymore.

“I sent a video! I was petting one—”

“Wasn’t a baby. Didn’t count,” he interrupted. You could practically hear the face he was making. A dramatic pout? A deep frown? You’d bet money on both.

“He was sort of a baby,” you tried to argue, laughing despite yourself.

“Nope. You owe me a baby.”

A silence fell between you. The longest, most deafening beat of silence in your entire life.

“A baby cow! A picture of a baby cow!” he blurted.

“There had to have been a better way to phrase that!” you sputtered, your whole body going warm. You clapped a hand to the side of your face, half-laughing, half-horrified.

Mark was wheezing now, clearly proud of himself. “I’m so mad I’m not there to see your face.”

“I hope you get a cramp,” you muttered, still trying to cool down. “Like, out of nowhere. Right in your side.”

“You wound me,” he said, mock-offended. “I’m a good man who asked for a wholesome photo of a calf and got accused of—”

“You know exactly what you said, Grayson.”

He snorted. “Okay, okay. For real, though, looks like you’re having a good time.”

You relaxed a little. Leaned your head back against the headrest, the golden light of the setting sun warming your skin. “Yeah. I think I needed this. I didn’t realize how much I missed it here.”

There was a short pause. Then he asked, softer, “You thinking about staying?”

You hesitated. “No. I’m actually on my way back. I just needed… long enough to remember who I am. Where I came from. I guess I needed that reminder.”

“You feeling any better?” Mark asked eventually, his voice softer now. Less teasing. Like he was letting you lead now.

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to tell him. You did, you just didn’t want it to change things.

“I think so,” you said. “Being home helped. Talking to Ma and Pa. Seeing the stars without light pollution. All of that.”

“Did you do it? What you went there for?”

You looked at the ceiling. Thought about the pod. The projection.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I did.”

“And?”

You swallowed. “It’s a lot. I don’t even have words for most of it. But… I think I’m ready now.”

There was a slight pause on his end, then, “Yeah? Will I get an exclusive story when you get back?”

You smiled, “You will. Next time we have lunch.”

“So,” he added with a hum, back to a lighter tone, “how soon can I expect an actual baby cow photo, like you promised?”

“Oh my-“ You rolled your eyes. “You’ll get it when you deserve it.”

“Rude. I demand justice. Isn’t that, like, your entire thing?”

You grinned. “File a complaint with HR.”

“Who’s HR?”

“I don’t know- Lois.”

“That’s no fair, she’ll take your side!”

“Exactly.”

He laughed, the sound warm and real in your ears. And just like that, the weight in your chest felt a little lighter.

You two practically talked the entire drive back to the city. That was until silence stretched too long.

Until a snore broke it.

You needed to hold your breath to avoid laughing, you’d forgotten the time difference. It was late for you, but even later for Mark.

You quietly bid him goodnight and ended the call.

Pulling into the parking garage beside the apartment, you grabbed your bags and jogged upstairs. The echo of your footsteps in the stairwell was louder than expected.

The moment you stepped through the front door, everything felt off.

The apartment was the same as you and Pa left it. Tidy, clean, untouched. But it wasn’t the same. Nothing was there to fill the space. There was no hum like Pa’s old radio, or buzz with the sound of him in the kitchen.

It was just… still.

And with that stillness came the ache. Subtle but sharp. That low, tight pull in your chest.

You didn’t have Pa’s voice in the other room this time. No radio murmuring sports commentary. No steady heartbeat like background music.

Just you.

You dropped your bags at the door, kicked off your shoes, and went to your room. You weren’t sure what to do with Pa’s room, you’d figure it out later.

But as you got ready for bed, the absence of Pa became horribly apparent.

You couldn’t sleep.

The city, once a comforting background hum, now roared in your ears. Cars, sirens, conversations, things you really wished you didn’t hear. Everything blurred together into an overwhelming, dissonant buzz. Without something to anchor you, to focus on, your mind wouldn’t quiet.

So, you did something you’d been trying to stop.

You tuned in.

Your awareness stretched outward, reaching for the heartbeats of the people you knew. A bad habit, you’d told yourself. An invasion of privacy. But tonight you just needed to feel connected.

Jimmy’s heartbeat was the easiest to find, steady and calm, like a metronome. Lois’s, like always a little faster than average, even at rest, like her heart refused to waste time.

But Mark’s? Mark’s was different.

Heavy. Like it was working overtime, pushing too much blood through too small veins. There was a faint irregularity to it, a soft whoosh at the end of each beat. Almost like a murmur.

Maybe that’s why it was the one you latched onto. The oddness of it made it easier to find. Easier to follow.

And eventually, lulled by the familiar rhythm, you let go. Your breathing evened out. Your body relaxed. And for the first time since leaving the farm, you drifted off to sleep.

The first night truly on your own

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“We can’t ask that, Lois!” you said for the nth time, voice muffled slightly as you struggled through your closet. You rifled through hangers, searching for something nice enough for the event.

“Wha—why not?” she shot back, staring at you incredulously through the video call.

“Because it’s going to get us kicked out!” you argued, finally yanking out a decent button-up, blazer, and matching pants. It would have to do.

You ducked out of frame to grab the suit and pulled it on under your clothes. Tight, but not uncomfortable. Hidden.

“You’ve said that for every question,” Lois countered, arms now crossed in defiance. She hadn’t even started getting ready. Typical. Meanwhile, you were already buttoning your shirt, still fretting over being late or underdressed.

“It’s not every question,” you muttered.

Lois raised a brow. “You said it when I asked about the budget report. And when I asked if the DA is ducking charges. And when I asked about all the reports of missing bodies of soldiers. Or when I wanted to ask Lex about the rumors surrounding him selling weapons to countries around the globe.”

“Because he is, and that’s how you get escorted out by security!”

She grinned. “Or how we get the story no one else will.”

You groaned, not because she was wrong, but because she was right. And because you’d probably follow her into whatever trouble she dragged you into anyway.

“Am I picking you up?” You changed the subject as you straightened your jacket.

“Oh, sure. We get an escorted ride so I’ll tell them to come to my place.” Lois said as she finally moved from her place, the rustle of clothes telling you she’s finally begun to get ready.

“See you then,” You told her as you disconnected the call for her to get ready.

Packing your small bag, the nicest one you owned, you carefully slid your notebook and recorder inside, followed by the scarlet cape and skirt tucked into the side pocket. Just in case.

With everything in place, you headed out. Lois should be ready by the time you got there if you walked at normal speed.

Sure enough, by the time you reached the building, a sleek black car was already parked out front.

Lois, dressed in a gorgeous violet dress, exited the building just as you approached. She spotted you, grinned, and immediately grabbed your arm.

“Look at you! You clean up well,” she said, pulling you toward the car after a quick ID check.

“You don’t think it’s too casual?”

“What? No! It’s you. If you showed up all dolled up in a gown, I’d think you’d been body-snatched.”

You gave her a look, half amusement, half exasperation. “I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“It was a compliment. A backhanded one, but still.”

You spent the entire drive adjusting and readjusting your jacket. Collar, sleeves, lapels, then collar again. By the time you pulled up to the venue, you’d probably done it a hundred times.

Then the doors opened, and the building loomed in front of you. Tall, glittering, intimidating.

You swallowed. Maybe you should’ve worn something flashier. Or just been someone flashier.

But before you could second-guess yourself too hard, Lois called out, “Jimmy!” and grabbed you by the wrist.

With no hesitation at all, she tugged you up the steps and through the front doors.

The inside of the building was even more overwhelming, mirrored walls, servers balancing silver trays, and people who probably owned shoes that cost more than your entire yearly rent.

Jimmy waved you both over from near the entry hall, already holding a camera in one hand and a drink in the other. He was dressed sharper than usual, his tie actually straight for once.

“Lois! You made it,” he said, then gave you a grin. “And you—look at you, all suited up!”

You smiled, trying not to fidget again. “Trying to keep up with the pros.”

“Fake it ‘til you make it,” Lois said, elbowing you gently before nodding to Jimmy. “Any sign of the guest list yet?”

“Some of ‘em are arriving now,” he said. “Heard rumor Luthor might show in-person. And some big government bodies allegedly.”

Great. Just what you needed.

Lois clapped her hands. “Alright, kids. Time to work. Remember: bold questions and if anyone starts yelling or deflecting, that’s the good stuff.”

You sighed. Show time.

#kryptonian reader #invincible x reader #invincible x you #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you #softer than steel

159 notes · View notes

juliettejwnewinesa · 1 month ago

Note

hiii i appreciate your writing so so so much and i’m sorry abt the hate your getting, genuinely that’s stupid with whatever is going on. but keep up the good work girllyyy!!!!

but was hoping if i could request one for a light nsfw Baku and Fem Reader (she fell first, he fell harder🫣🫣)

Where the reader is like a geek and is socially awkward but confidently (sorry if that sounds confusing, it’s like baku when he mispronounces words and is still confident 😭) but she was paired a project with baku so he meets her at house and she’s got that messy bun with glasses look and in her out of school clothes. and he’s mesmerized and as they’re talking throughout the project he sees a small tramp stamp as she’s bent down in front of him and he’s like blushing.

And so throughout the night he’s trying to keep his composure of asking her questions and she gets the hint and asks him if he’s alright and he just blurts out that question, she answers and asks if he’s wants to get a clear view as a joke and he says yes in a serious tone and it just somehow ends up with them making out(?) i’m sorry idk how i can end this but with them making out 😭🙏

Hi lovely!! Thank you so much for your nice words like seriously, that made my day 🥹💕 Don’t worry at all I got it 👌 chefs kiss idea

💻✨ “You Got Something On Your Back (…Me.)”

Pairing: Humin x Confident-but-Socially-Awkward Geeky Fem!Reader

Tone: Light NSFW, teasing, mutual crush energy, she fell first, he fell harder.

—————————————————————————-

Humin didn’t really care about school projects. He was the type to just do what needed to be done, slide by, and avoid too much interaction.

So when he got paired with you(the quiet girl in class who always raised her hand, mispronounced words with full confidence, and wore anime pins on her backpack)he expected it to be awkward.

It was, at first.

Until you opened the door to your apartment.

Messy bun. Baggy hoodie sliding off one shoulder. Shorts he wasn’t sure were legal. Glasses slightly askew. And a soft, genuinely surprised smile like you didn’t expect someone like him to actually show up.

“Hey! You want water? Soda? Monster? I have like three types of caffeine.”

He blinked. “…Monster?”

“Cool, cool.” You walked away, muttering something about “fueling your chaos coding brain” and he just stood there for a second, completely still.

You were different. But in a weird way, that kinda made sense to him. You weren’t trying to be anyone but yourself. Even when you said things like:

“I accidentally broke the simulation. But like, intentionally. Accidentally on purpose. Y’know?”

No. He didn’t know. But he liked how you said it anyway.

The two of you got to work sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by notes, wires, and open laptops. You were in full geek mode, talking excitedly and leaning over to scribble on a notepad, totally unaware that your hoodie had ridden up a bit.

And that’s when he saw it.

A little black ink design,barely visibleat all,just above the waistband of your shorts. A small, delicate tramp stamp.

His brain froze.

He looked away. Looked back. Looked away again. Cursed internally.

You noticed. Of course you noticed.

“You okay, Humin?” you asked, half-laughing. “You’re redder than my error log.”

He coughed, pretending to flip a page in the notebook. “I, uh… You got a tattoo?”

You raised a brow, amused. “You mean the one on my back?”

He swallowed.

“I wasn’t tryna look, it just—”

You smirked. “Want a clearer view?”

He stiffened.

Then: “…Yeah.”

Your eyebrows jumped. You didn’t expect that. You stared at him.

“You’re serious?”

He nodded once, jaw tense.

You shifted slowly, turning your back to him and pulling your hoodie just high enough to show the full ink. “It’s a glitch symbol. From a game I mod. You like it?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, his hand grazed your waist like he wasn’t even thinking, just acting on impulse. Then he leaned in a little closer.

“I like… everything I’m seeing right now,” he muttered.

You twisted around, face-to-face now, and that heat building between you two boiled over. His breath caught when you licked your lips. Yours hitched when his eyes dropped there.

It happened fast your glasses almost fell off in the rush. He kissed you like he was holding back for days and suddenly had permission to lose control. It wasn’t rough, but it was intense, needy. Like he finally found the one thing that made him care about more than just getting by.

You smiled into the kiss, hands gripping his shirt.

“Guess you’re not so focused on the project anymore, huh?”

He smirked against your lips.

“I am. Just… working on a different kind of assignment now”

Author’s note: You didn’t say you wanted smut just nsfw if you wanted smut sorry u didn’t deliver 🥲

#park humin x reader #weak hero class 1 #weak hero class #smut #weak hero class two #weak hero fanfic #weak hero class one #weak hero #whc2 spoilers #humin ff #humin smut #park humin #humin x reader #whc baku #weak hero class baku #baku x reader #Baku smut #whc2 x reader #whc2

127 notes · View notes