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eat-the-richard · 8 months

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GOTY OF THE YEAR 2,000,023

IT'S ABOUT THAT TIME AAGAIN FRIENDS! Another overly long written ramble about the very best in my personal gaming life and experience delivered DIRECTLY TO YOUR EYEBALLS!

And what a year it was!! For gaming! All of it! Just a comprehensive onslaught of video game products from all different genres and developers. From Triple As to Indies to whatever the fuck we're supposed to call the middle ground of those two. No matter who you (yes, YOU, not the general ""you"") are, something came out this year that tickled your little small little balls in one way or the other.

The best part of all, though? A year like this will NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN!! Certainly not next year, like my god look at that 2024 upcoming games list, man. It is *slight*.

You wanna know why? Because this amount of quality output, of course, does not come from studios or companies or brands or even the almighty dollar sign. It comes, of course, from people. People who are insanely talented and passionate about their craft. Likely those who dreamed for years to be a part of this seemingly amazing industry of creative professionals all striving towards the same creative goals. And for gaming developers, 2023 was not a year worth celebrating. Sure the products that they worked on released to the public to play and enjoy, but as soon as these projects wrapped up, the studio or company or brand or even the almighty dollar sign ditched their ass RIGHT TO THE CURB!

Because to all of those previously mentioned abstractions, talent is expendable. Demand for talent should be at an all time high, given that gaming continues to be the most money-making entertainment medium of the 21st century. So more games should be in development, therefore necessitating more job opportunities and areas where passionate individuals can spearhead their own creativity into a golden goose. But, of course, this is not how abstractions operate. The talent who creates these fine pieces of art are mere cogs to them, oiling and greasing a machine that will continue to move as long as the pieces are in place. And there will always be a new crop of cogs fresh in the industry who will be willing to take meager pay, miserable conditions, and limited flexibility in their line of work, as long as they get a chance to work with the abstractions.

This, of course, will not happen. The continuous horror of the modern gaming industry spreads far and wide. Notably to our youth, as chronically online as they are, who likely will not want to invest their time and life into a career that will never respect them. As for the talent who have been laid off every month this year? They won't stick around. Their services are applicable in many other fields that not only pay better, but have far more job security. So the talent pool dries up, there will be increasingly fewer individuals looking to refill, and the gaming bubble finally pops.

We're at the precipice of it, and it's hard to ignore the warning signs. It's hard to write a piece about the "great year in gaming" we as consumers had as it feels like the industry that created it might not look the same way in 10 years. Gaming won't die, obviously, there's too much demand for it. But the 300 million dollar blockbusters, the 3-4 year crunch periods, the constant race to produce technological best. That will die. And this year was the last hurrah.

So, in that spirit, let's celebrate the year that was for me. The 10 best games from this year and previous that remind me why I love it in the first place. Why I want to support it, and wish it nothing but the best. And most of all, highlighting the talent who ultimately made it possible, rather than the abstraction who will tear it down.

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Anyway! Enough of that SHIT!! Video games are cool, and I like them. Today, we’re going to RANK the TOP 10-ish GAMES I PLAYED in Twenty Twenty Three. But before that, let’s dive into some dis/honorable mentions.

REMASTER I REALLY LIKED BUT DIDN’T WANT TO RANK BECAUSE ITS A REMASTER OF THE YEAR: Metroid Prime Remastered (NSW)

Take your pick of, like, six or seven different 25-30 year old Metroid fans and slam them elbow-first into a padded cell. Once they come to and they start talking about Metroid, as you do in confinement, about five or six of them will confess that their first love was Metroid Prime. I would count myself one of them inside of the cell, even if it took me until 2015 and the shudders Wii U Virtual Console for me to finally give it a try.

The six-or-seven imprisoned Metroid fans will inevitably start comparing the two most popular entries in the series: Super Metroid and Metroid Prime. To me, Super Metroid is all about its scenario. Finely tuned and expertly paced, “Super” is a game I play for that jolt of the Metroid formula that currently makes up ½ of every game that comes out nowadays. But Metroid Prime is about atmosphere. The reflections of Samus’ face in the visor dotted by raindrops from above. The movement of fauna, shade & various enemies flowing through every screen. Honestly while I’m writing this the Phendrana Drifts theme is playing in my head.

Metroid Prime isn’t as precise as Super Metroid, but its ambiance is striking. This presentation, already beautiful on the GameCube, is only enhanced on Switch. Despite very little of the original Prime team still being at Retro Studios, you can tell this one was crafted with an enormous amount of respect for the source material. It gets the rare yet coveted distinction for a remaster/make/release of looking just as you remembered it your first go around, yet looking obviously much better when compared side by side. It does well to continue the legacy of this momentous game, to hopefully expose its importance to more than just the five-or-six of us currently jailed.

By the way, the one other guy who didn’t grow up with Prime? He was chatting our ear off about the “subversive excellence” of Metroid Fusion or something. How “forcing linearity in an otherwise exploration heavy series can make you feel weak and frightened” and “it has a much tighter difficulty curve than any other title in the series.” Something like that anyway, couldn’t really hear over the all-time noogie numbers I was putting up while he was stuck in a headlock.

GAME I'M MOST MAD AT MYSELF FOR NOT FINISHING: Outer Wilds (PC)

Is it a me thing? Am I not the type of guy who would truly appreciate a game like Outer Wilds? Spoilers ahead, obviously. Don’t read this part if any part of your bones and back wants to try this one out, dead serious.

Because what a HOOK this game gets you in. The first time the sun engulfed my puny little carcass, the previous session reverses itself right in front of me and the world just completely reset itself? Astonishment, blown away? Other thoughts like that. Conceptually, Outer Wilds is a knockout. The obvious point of comparison is Majora’s Mask, but the mystery at the heart of Outer Wilds is a lot less simple than Find The Four Giants. It’s a weaving thread binding all the game’s planets, but one you must piece together largely yourself.

Which made dropping it back in April and trying to come back to it hard. I probably just have to totally restart it and really really focus on what each little node of information is saying. Or just use a guide or something idk

LEAST FAVORITE GAMING EXPERIENCE OF THE YEAR: Sonic Frontiers: The Final Horizon (PC)

Ok this title might be hyperbole a bit since I didn’t completely hate it, I just wanted an excuse to write about SONIC AGAIN! I LOVE BLUE MEN!!

Speaking of hyperbole, how about the reception of Sonic Frontiers? Seems like everyone was busting their loads over this one last year. I get it, to a certain extent. As BlazeHedgehog said in his one-hour dissection of the game this year, food tastes better when you’re hungry, and us poor Sonic fans are starving. I don’t think Frontiers is perfect by anyone’s standards, but it at the very least leaves a decent yet slightly rocky foundation for future games to knock it out of the park with.

The Final Horizon is “future games”, I guess. And uh, yeah this one didn’t knock it out of the park. Kinda bunted? Maybe tripped over first base or something idk how to make better baseball analogies than this.

My main disappointment comes from the three new playable hedgehog/hedgehog adjacent creatures. Maybe it's my fault actually, since I had this wonderful idea in my head of how sick it would be for Knuckles or even Amy to have fully decked-out combat trees. Instead, these new characters are actually terrible at combat and you shouldn’t even try. They’re pretty specifically geared towards platforming challenges, unfortunate since all of them feel pretty miserable to control. My original review of this update was “Knuckles controls like an asshole” but they kind of fixed the controls so my review has been updated to “Knuckles controlled like an asshole* *when it launched therefore when everyone played it Knuckles controlled like an asshole”.

Despite my gripes with base game Frontiers, at the very least it felt like a game that was rigorously playtested. Not polished by any means (for crying out loud they never fixed the pop-in), but most platforming challenges had a certain sense of flow to them that made the open zone concept work. Final Horizon does not feel properly playtested. Levels are far less scripted, which would be a great thing in an engine that didn’t feel this busted. The difficulty spikes up seemingly at random, with the three titan boss rush on hard being probably the most unfair challenge in a Sonic game that I can remember. Even the final boss (which features one cool scene where blue eyed Super Sonic gets shot out of a gun) requires a target switching mechanic the game never expects you to know or use by that point, unless I’m an idiot. Which is always the fear.

Ah well, at least it was free. And I don’t want this to be a sign for Sonic team to ditch the open zone for the next game. I do think it can work, but the main gameplay engine needs an overhaul. Not even a Sonic Utopia masturbatory “iT sHoUlD jUsT cOnTroL lIkE tHe ClAsSicS” style control necessarily, just one that feels inherently fun to run around an empty field in. Which is easy to say, I guess. “Make the Sonic feel more funner to control,” the critic says. “Allso give me a cheeseburger “

Congratulations on winning your oddly specific category awards, previously stated video game products! Time for the top ten which was going to be a top sixteen but I’m already incredibly late on this so I’d rather not write about six extra games sorry.

10. Spyro 2: Ripto’s Rage (PS1/PC)

The intro to Spyro 2 was fun all three times I played it this year. Once on original hardware at a friend’s house, another time on my own through a PS1 emulator, and a final time through the Reignited trilogy remake. Reignited was where I played through Spyro 1 for the first time some years ago, and although the Spyro 3 remake is allegedly trash (according to my one friend who learned how to read by playing Spyro 3 at age 3), the remake of Ripto’s Rage is pretty OK by my less demanding standards. Plus it ran well on Steam Deck for whatever that’s worth.

Thankfully, playing the intro to Spyro 2 three times was actually a worthwhile thing to do! Unlike Spyro 1 which basically just lets you 100% complete every level the first time you go through it, Spyro 2 requires abilities and unlocks from later levels in the game to get every orb & collectable. Every time I replayed the various levels in Summer Forest, I learned which levels (even areas of levels) I should avoid until I learned how to climb up ladders or whatever. It is much more enjoyable on a replay to keep these types of things fresh in your mind rather than coming back to it years later as a grayed & tired old hag.

While I’m not as story-pilled as a lot of my gaming peers, even in simple games I appreciate when it feels like your actions have weight to them. Completing every level in Spyro 2 isn’t just about collecting the shiny objects and touching the top of the flagpole. Each area has its own particular race of organism coming to you with an issue caused by Ripto. And while it isn’t super complex, your actions through the level are helping that particular group of living beings. When going through the entire game, and thereby helping all of these groups with their minor or major little quibbles, it’s pretty satisfying to look back on once the game comes to a close. That element is, I think, what makes a crusty little game like Spyro 2 still hold up in the face of a very different world.

9. FEZ (PC)

For a while, I didn’t want to like FEZ. I had it on Steam, but only as a result of a Humble Bundle, back when you could specify how much of your bundle purchase went to each specific game creator. And I will never forget looking at Phil Fish and his stupid face, gleefully pulling his contribution slider allllll the way to the bottom, probably capping out at $0.01.

That was 2014. 10 years later, I have two thoughts. 1. Phil Fish’s controversy feels very very trite in comparison to what the internet or, fuck, even the ENTIRE WORLD has turned into. And 2. Phil Fish is a genius.

People were saying it at the time but I just didn’t want to believe them. And I probably didn’t have the capacity to wrap my head around what FEZ was doing. It’s an entry into what I want to define right now as an “unraveling” game (remember this, it will come up later!). On the surface, FEZ is simple. It even has simple graphics! You’re a simple man, living in a simple town, with only a jump button to your name. Then, another layer. A Fez, perhaps, on the top of your gay little head. In gameplay terms, the perspective now shifts when you press the triggers, I think all Fezes do that? Anyway, fun little platforming gimmick for a little 2D game, right?

Wrong. FEZ is a 3D game. Your position in the world is a little tricky to manipulate, but it is mapped in a 3D space. You can even view the world in 3D once you beat the game and get sunglasses. I think all sunglasses do that? Anyway, this allows for some inventive puzzle solving through trying to figure out where to jump and where to shift perspective to make your way out of the room. Can be pretty tricky, but ultimately achievable, right?

Wrong. The puzzles at the end of FEZ are not possible. Literally, I think. The last puzzle is not possible without datamines and brute-forcing it. But for the puzzles that are possible, the amount of honest to god code cracking you need to do at the end of the game is not what I was expecting. I had to bring out an honest to god notebook made of paper from wood and write down my interpretation of the game’s little language. Other games certainly take inspiration from the unraveling layers of FEZ,

8. TUNIC (PC)

Hope you were paying attention! Thank god this game comes right here on the list so I don’t have to test your attention span. TUNIC is also an unraveling type game, in sort of the exact same way to FEZ actually. It appears to be a gorgeous yet sort of simple claymation sorta interpretation of the original Legend of Zelda. You’ve got a couple a silly lookin enemies, item pickups like bombs and potions, you get to explore an overworld and some dungeons. It’s Zelda 1, right?

Wrong. TUNIC is Dark Souls. Beyond just being able to fat roll, enemy encounters can get brutally difficult, and they all respawn when you die. Upon death, you drop a bit of your coins on the ground in a ghost that will stick around when you come back to that same spot. You save and respawn at a fire. Now, comparing a game to Dark Souls is kind of like the most overdone thing in games writing at the point, but it definitely helps that you can get a sense of that original Zelda formula in all of FromSoft’s games. So TUNIC aping those trends feels like a good match, I think. From here, progression might start to make sense. You travel from save room to save room, clearing dungeons and beating bosses. Eventually you’ll find a really big one, and the game is over, right?

Wrong. TUNIC is a game about not being able to understand English. The story is pretty well known at this point I think, but the sole developer of TUNIC was inspired by playing through the notoriously obtuse-without-a-manual Zelda 1 without being able to understand the words of said manual. In TUNIC, you will find pieces of a very similar looking manual all throughout the world in no particular order and in a language you cannot read. Eventually in TUNIC you’ll hit a wall where you have no idea what to do or where to go. And suddenly, you look at a single page of the manual in a slightly different way, maybe even with your head tilted a little bit more to the right. And suddenly it all makes sense.

There’s another way in which this game unravels but it’s sort of like the impossible puzzles in FEZ and I haven’t even begun to try and wrap my head around it. I beat this game with the bad ending and I still had a jolly ole time with it. Very much my sort of game this one is. No spoken dialogue, story communicated entirely through gameplay, and hard as balls bosses. Now if only this one featured a funny little dwarf….

7. Deep Rock Galactic (PC)

Me and my friends cycled through a lot of different games this year. Still wrought in grief over the loss of TF2 and Overwatch, I think. I was kind of the outside guy in these multiplayer romps, as I am burdened with two jobs and game at weird times of the night, but I got enough time in each of them to get the idea. But of all the multiplayer games I dabbled in, the one that I am so sad I wasn’t around to play more is Deep Rock Galactic.

DRG is immediately charming. Playing as a stupid drunk dwarf is kind of inherently a little ridiculous and Ghost Ship leans into that hard. There’s of course the dedicated ROCK AND STONE button, but did you know there’s a dedicated coughing button? Not even loud obnoxious coughing either; subtle, painful coughing that feels like a burden to deal with (don’t @ me I know it’s not supposed to be a coughing button). The hub of DRG is honestly the most fun part of the game, I think. Just spending time with the buds fucking around with barrels and getting drunk on exploding IPAs is quality stuff.

I only played Driller, I think? The rest of the characters are probably fun though. I just liked being able to serve that oh-so-important purpose of pressing M1 in a direction and overheating by accident, as well as using my flamethrower to hurt my teammates. And using my C4 to hurt my teammates. I’m sure they all hate playing with me since I suck ass, but it’s hard for me to get mad at myself when I’m bad at the game since the stakes feel pretty low. Co-op games like this always appeal to me more than PVP for that exact reason, and I hope I can put DRG on this same list next year when I’m a little bit more seasoned.

DRG also fucked up my reflexes for every other game as I always want to press F to throw a flare into a dark room. Even in real life!

6. Dying Light (PC)

Another multiplayer game, although this one isn’t really originally intended to be multiplayer. This game flew under the radar for me for a long time until one of my friends randomly suggested we play it co-op one day and we all happened to have it for free on the Critically Acclaimed Epic Games Launcher. First thing to address here, this game is shockingly seamless as a multiplayer game considering it’s obviously a single player game primarily. Ok, maybe not quite seamless since all the player characters are the same generic white guy protagonist. At least you can wear a clown outfit? But the connection never dips, you’re never kicked out for no reason, everyone gets to watch a cutscene at the same time. Great co-op experience overall.

Honestly, the story and scenario of Dying Light is very uninteresting to me. We haven’t even beat the main story yet. In fact, we go out of our way to not do the main story and just focus on side content as much as we can. Because the core gameplay of Dying Light is fantastic. Again, this game completely flew under the radar for me and I feel like the same thing happened to most people I know. So I was shocked at how good the game feels. Jumping from roof to roof rarely doesn’t work once you know what you’re doing thanks to the generous ledge grab system. And once you get a grappling hook? Bitch, every game should have a grappling hook.

Combat is where the game really shines though. We set the difficulty to hard right away, which initially made it practically impossible to kill even the most basic type of zombie. If you’re just trying to whack the undead with a simple melee weapon, you’re probably going to get your health drained in an instant. Obviously you get better weapons, even guns towards the back half of the game. But you don’t want to use those all the time, especially guns since they make a ton of noise and alert a ton of infected. So it’s when you start unlocking cool-ass moves like the little kick you do to finish off downed enemies skulls, tackling zombies to the floor, vaulting over their heads to get a quick move on, even a whole ass dropkick to send them tumbling into a spike wall that Dying Light starts becoming fun as hell to just run around in.

Dying Light is also tied with Zelda Tears of the Kingdom as having the most “dark” “darkness” in a game I played this year. You straight up cannot see anything at night in this game, and if you turn on your flashlight you might wake up your mom. She’ll grab and kill you!

5. Lethal Company (PC)

What makes writing about Lethal Company hard is that, in a way, it’s undeniable. There’s no wonder why this became one of 2023’s best sellers practically overnight. Its charm is just that apparent. But why? To me, it’s how it straddles the line.

Obviously, Lethal Company is hilarious. It’s baked into the animations, with a jerky running animation that radiates Scooby-Doo-like energy and the single greatest dancing animation in all of gaming. Despite picking up items to later sell being the whole point of the game, they pack in so many silly little trinkets that are hard to separate yourself from; some can even make sounds! The first time I ever picked up the airhorn was on video, and I popped off harder for that than anything else this year. You may find yourself barrelling off the edge of a railing to your death because you thought you could jump over a gap with a big screw in your hand. Lethal Company is not only trying to make you laugh, but gives you the tools to get into a situation that’ll make your friends laugh.

But Lethal Company is also terrifying. Especially when you have no idea what you’re doing. Deep within the halls lurk otherworldly abominations with behavior that isn’t easy to parse your first time through. Some can be easy enough to avoid like the loot bugs and spiders. But others force you to change the way you move through the level, like the Bracken that requires you to constantly look behind you or else have your neck suddenly snapped, or the Coil Head that requires constant eye-contact or else have your neck suddenly snapped. If the terror was just contained to the halls, that would be one thing. But every Lethal Company player remembers their first time seeing the Forest Keeper, silently tip-toeing your way just out of sight else get eaten alive. You can certainly learn the patterns of each of these hostile entities to make progression easier, but keeping them all in mind while juggling the keys, ducks, and generators in your hands can often be too much to handle.

Despite all the horror elements, though, I never really get too scared playing Lethal Company? At least never for too long. And that’s the beauty of it - the line that the game is teetering on between comedy and terror. Even in observing the objectively very dangerous Bracken, it’s hard not to laugh at how sheepish he looks when backing away from you. When killed suddenly by a big dog outside your ship, the tension breaks once you realize that your friends are going to have to deal with that same dog and laugh as they die with you. Ultimately, Lethal Company’s charm lives and dies by how well it executes its two polar-opposite fundamental elements.

If updates can give more of a reason to keep playing the game after you learn the trick to each of the monsters, then this will be a multiplayer game for the books. That and add in suit customization bro, like come on the rack is right there!!

4. Super Mario Bros. Wonder (NSW)

If I was 7, Super Mario Bros. Wonder would be my favorite game ever. I am actively envious of the kids who get to grow up playing this game. Mario always hits different when you’re first getting into this method of experiencing media. Learning the fundamentals of controlling Mario is a gaming memory I will always cherish.The timing required to stomp on blocks and enemies, juggling the power-ups required to get certain secrets in a level, and the flow state you reach in jaunting through the familiar sights and sounds are baked into my gaming DNA.

As such, I found Super Mario Bros. Wonder to be very easy. There are some harder levels sprinkled throughout the game, but in a year that I beat every Super Meat Boy chapter without dying for fun, those didn’t give me much trouble. With that, plus the sheer number of Mario games I’ve played over the past 15 years of my life, I ate this game’s lunch and didn’t break a sweat. It’s probably unfair to knock a Mario game for being easy, but considering I’m not the only person who’s broached this criticism, I think it has enough merit. But again, I am envious of those who do not have this level of skill. To the kids wiping their greasy spaghetti hands on their Switch and Joy Cons, experiencing Mario for the first time because you liked Chris Pratt’s performance in the Mario movie. If this is your first time, this will leave an unforgettable impression.

Course-clear Mario games like Bros 3, World, 3D World, NSMB, and a bunch of other words and letter combinations are built on gimmicks. Gimmick is often used in a derogatory sense in gaming discussion circles to talk about shallow, meaningless fluff added to a game just to add a pinch of variety and extend run time. But as Mario has proven time and time again, gimmicks can be good, actually. It allows each level to stay fresh, with new ideas constantly being thrown at you with no time given to let any of it grow old. Mario Bros. Wonder is built off this same foundation, but goes absolutely nuts with it. The first part of every level is designed as normal, with some set of enemies, power-ups or other obstacles being presented at an easy pace. But as soon as you Touch Fuzzy, Get Dizzy, that gimmick is either flipped on its head or is magnified to the highest extent possible. When you allow your development team to design a game for years with no deadline, this is the type of experience you can create.

Also, this should go without saying, but this is probably the best looking game I’ve played all year. It doesn’t do anything crazy technically (like this probably could have been done on the Wii?), but each screenshot is blooming with color, flavor, and life. Shouts out in particular to the new Luigi model. I have no idea what specifically they did to his proportions, but DO NOT change it. This is perfect. Look at him. Perfect.

3. The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom (NSW)

Hilariously, this is the second Nintendo game in a row on the top half of this list that I’m going to spend half the review bitching about. Because TOTK is the exact same as Breath of the Wild. No, not in the way you’re thinking, although that is somewhat part of it. Not because the world is the same, the overall presentation is the same, the areas are largely the same, the combat is the same, the structure of the game is pretty much the same. Not any of that, rather that this game shares BOTW’s biggest problem - it gets worse the more you think about it.

Because while I was playing it, it felt like the coolest thing ever. Ultrahand is a marvel of design and programming, obviously. Should go without saying that the potential of ultrahand is boundless, and that week where everyone was posting their Zelda creations was very fun. The abilities in general are so ingenious that they actively tricked me into playing the same 100 hour game again. Ascend in particular is one of those things that just breaks your brain and makes you want to do it in every single game that you play afterwards. The first time I discovered the depths, after not getting spoiled on it and not noticing it at all in the game’s trailers, made me feel the same magic as those opening hours of Breath of the Wild. It also shares a spot with Dying Light for having the “darkest” “darkness” in video gaming. Congrats! The awards in the mail. And after what I believe to be one of the greatest endings a Zelda game has ever had, with a killer final fight and that moment with Link and Zelda at the end, I was convinced I had played my favorite game ever.

But of course, you cannot make these sorts of decisions on your favorite X thing ever in a day, a week, even a year. It grows with time. And over time, I had a stark realization that Tears of the Kingdom didn’t really fix many of the issues I had with Breath of the Wild, even if I thought they did at the time. Item degradation was annoying the first go around, but the second time, especially considering all the crafting you have to do to get good weapons, feels especially tedious. The story is just as daft and pointless, even if it ends on a better note. The “Sacred Stone?” repetition has already been memed to death at this point but it’s notable how I didn’t even notice it at first since I had already long since tuned out of the story. Dungeons still don’t hit the same as in previous Zeldas, with the precise almost Metroid-like design of items locking progression not even attempted for a second time. Even the depths, which enamored me so deeply when I first found them, gradually became a slog to travel through as its visual repetition and lack of unique content started to dawn on me.

When I was playing Breath of the Wild for the first time, in a life that feels like it was ages and ages ago, I distinctly remember being in awe of the world they had created and the joy I had in exploring it. Even though I had my faults with the game, as I kept thinking about it, that lasting impression is what sticks out so many years later. Will the same thing happen to Tears of the Kingdom? Will its strengths persist in my head in a decade? Or will its blemishes keep it from true greatness in my mind?

One thing’s for sure: I never want to see a god damn Korok again. At least in this game you can create a device that sets them on fire, smushes them with a giant hammer, then catapults them over a mountain into a bottomless pit. Kinda fucked up you can do that…

2. Pizza Tower (PC)

Pizza Tower is fucked up game made by a fucked up man. How else can I explain the absolutely batshit insane ideas this game throws at you? The first level is called John Gutter. There’s another level in this game called “Oh Shit!” where you run around in the sewer. Mort the Chicken from the PS1 game Mort the Chicken returns to grab onto your head and force you to do double jumps. You’re forced to play golf. There’s a level where you get jumpscared by FNAF pizza topping animatronics and at the end you get to Shoot Them With A Shotgun. One of the bosses is a fucked up version of yourself that’s actually made of liquid and is secretly just a brain with eyes. You’re italian.

I could go on. Despite my cursed Nintendo centric brain, I’ve never dabbled into Wario Land, which Pizza Tower obviously takes a lot of inspiration from. But when looking at gameplay of those older games after finishing this one, I don’t think I would really get a whole lot out of it. Pizza Tower is basically those Wario Land games made by a guy with as sick of a brain as I do, drawing all the assets with MSPaint and cramming each level with crazy bullshit and fun gameplay ideas. Those other games would probably feel kind of lacking in comparison. Like Mario Wonder, the levels in Pizza Tower are gimmicky by design, introducing one-off gameplay ideas and passing the ball to the next idea as soon as possible. So why is Pizza Tower higher than Mario Wonder?

Because Pizza Tower is an anime. When completing each level, you’re ranked from a scale of D to S, same as Sonic. At least that’s what it seems at first, though, as there is another rank. The coveted P-Rank is locked behind not just a perfect run collecting all the pizza toppings through the level, but looping back around and racing through that same level again. All within the time limit given to you when smacking the John at the end of each level. As you can probably tell, this is fucked up. Nothing else in Pizza Tower, not even the batshit level ideas, can reach how fucked up getting a P-Rank is in any level of this game. I’ve only gotten two I think? But Christ, what a rush it is. Pushing your familiarity with the controls and the level like this, reaching a glorious flow state is exactly where I love to be in a 2D platformer. And when I see that sick as hell anime OP ass P-Rank animation, I reach COMPLETE GAMING EUPHORIA.

I am so excited to jump back into this one once I have the time and give this the thorough beating it deserves. Just like how Peppino has been thoroughly beaten….. By The Cruel Hand He’s Been Dealt Through The Struggles Of Maintaining Your Own Pizza Business In A Horrible Capitalist Nightmare………

1. Pikmin 4 (NSW)

Hell yeah Baby!!! Pikmimn 4 Sweep! If you don’t play Pikmin 4 I’ll KILL YOu you stupid piece of shit!!

Pikmin is doomed to be a niche. It��s got a bunch of cute little men walking around and a circular dog that you jump on the back of. But it is so brutally punishing that kids are almost certainly going to bounce off it. And the strategy-heads that would undoubtedly enjoy what it has to offer almost certainly won’t even give it a chance because of the cute little men and the circular dog. This dichotomy, of course, is why I love Pikmin.

I began the year in preparation for Pikmin 4 to finally play the original Pikmin on GameCube. Previously, I had one playthrough of Pikmin 3 but it honestly didn’t do all too much for me for whatever reason. So I wanted to go all the way back to the most busted up, brutal game in the series so I could understand the appeal. Within the first hour of play, all of my Pikmin had either been drowned or crushed by a giant Bulborb because I had no idea what I was doing. And that game has a strict time limit, so you can only fuck up so many times before you get a genuine game over.

So what’s the appeal? Well Nintendo finally found a word for it in the marketing for Pikmin 4 that probably doesn’t exist in English so they just said fuck it and used the Japanese word anyway: “Dandori 段”. Basically being able to manage your tasks and resources in a timely fashion to reach maximum efficiency. Pikmin 1 forces you to figure this out to some degree or else you’re not getting home. And with the limited scope of that game’s levels, Pikmin types, and enemies, I think it’s a great way to learn. Each Pikmin has a clearly defined use case that directly corresponds with their color, and the obstacles in your path are easy to understand in relation to those basic abilities. Need a powerhouse that can take quick work of this giant beetle? Red is your go to. A ship part is stuck high up? The lanky and tall yellows are your guys. Water? Blue. You get the gist.

The problem with Pikmin 1? And every other Pikmin game for that matter? It’s not enough. It needs more. I’m cool with short games but Pikmin 1 can be beaten in like 3 hours. Pikmin 3 is like 10. Usually more content isn’t what makes a game “gooder” but I do genuinely think that the short run time of previous games made this idea of Dandori harder to tap into on a single playthrough. How did they fix this in Pikmin 4?

WEll, my friend, they did this through VARIETY OF MODES!

The main story of Pikmin 4 is basically the 10 hour tutorial. A gentle romp through all the major areas, some largely easy enemies, no game-long time limit, heavy tutorializing, an introduction to all the Pikmin types, basically baby’s first Pikmin. Even if you only play the story, you have so much to sink your teeth into. The above ground areas are as fun as ever, with the addition of Oatchi as a Pikmin platform AND a way to introduce platforming into the Pikmin formula being such an obvious and fun addition. Caves return from Pikmin 2 as a break from the time-limit imposed by the rest of the game, allowing for some tighter combat sections and the satisfaction of scouring an entire area and getting 100% item completion. Dandori challenges scattered throughout the levels provide a taste of that hyper-focused time limit gameplay from Pikmin 1, forcing a greater degree of focus and understanding of the mechanics and design than in most of the rest of the game. Nighttime missions morph the usual Pikmin gameplay into more of a tower survival type of thing, protecting key areas while using the uniquely powerful new glow Pikmin. And each of the major areas all being in the garden of just somebody's house that you THEN get to go inside in what is by far the most unique level in a Pikmin game is some serious chef’s kiss type beat.

So that’s all well and good for the base game. But the post game? The post game? This is what takes Pikmin 4 to legendary heights. I CAN’T EVEN WRITE HERE everything I want to say because I KNOW YOU HAVEN’T PLAYED THIS GAME, and it was so joyous when I had these experiences blind. What I will say is this - this idea of Dandori and your understanding of it will be tested in some of the late game Dandori challenges. Entirely optional content by the way, nothing needed if you aren’t fucking with the idea of being an ancient Dandori master or anything. But this is the type of thing I live for in games. Mechanics and design being stretched to their limit, pushing your boundaries and forcing you to execute nearly perfectly to get the win. Usually uber-hard platformers are all that get this type of reaction out of me. Maybe I should be a strategy gamer? Am I finally ascending to be the Total War XCom Starcraft freakazoid I was always meant to be?

Maybe it was the surprise in how much I was enjoying Pikmin 4 for my entire 40 hour playthrough that gets it this high on the list. A marriage of gorgeous presentation, compelling mechanics, and content out the ass that no other game this year quite reached for me. DLC for this game is a must buy. Honestly, I might just play this game again some time soon, I need to make sure my feelings about it aren’t a fluke.

And most importantly, YOU (yes, YOU, not the general ""you"") need to play this game. I DO NOT CARE if you have a Switch. DOWNLOAD THIS GAME FROM NSW2U.COM AND DOWNLOAD THE YUZU EMULATOR AND SEARCH ON GOOGLE “Nintendo Switch Keys Download” TO PLAY THIS GAME FOR FREE ON YOUR COMPUTER. Maybe you won’t even love it but DAMN IT I do. I’m glad Pikmin got another chance and for that chance to be the most feature-packed and gloriously executed game in the series by far. Hope this isn’t the end for our Pick-ed Men… Hope they don’t throw my colorful men in IP jail for 10 years again… Hope I can say hi to my good friend Olli mare one more time before I’m old and gray………

Thats it ok bye

#game of the year #pikmin 4 #essay #top 10 #pizza tower #i outdid last year by 2000 words!

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middymod · 2 years

Text

The Tailor

Something that always puzzled me in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol.1 was the ravager uniforms the Guardians wore to the final battle. Where did they get those clothes?

For Peter, the answer is obvious. He used to be part of the clan, Yondu probably kept a few of his outfits in case he came back.

As for Drax, he has a build that's similar to a lot of the ravagers. It wouldn't be hard to find an extra pair of pants.

But for Gamora and Rocket? On the scenes with the ravagers, there aren't any women. And even if there was one, or that there used to be one, what are the chances of her having the exact same dimensions as Gamora? That uniform is so form-fitting, it looks tailored! Right down to the cup size! And Rocket??? No one that we've seen on the Ravager team could even come close to Rocket's dimensions.

Now, we could theorize that those are smart clothes. As someone who studies electronics, I could imagine two ways of making self-adjusting clothes.

The first would be to be able to input your dimensions before putting on the clothes. But that would require some kind of input panel, which would be impractical. You could argue that this could be small and/or flexible and sewn inside the clothes. However, you still need to be able to interact easily with the panel, so you cannot make it too small. On top of that, we see that the Ravager job can get pretty physical. It would be rather impractical for your clothes to change size all of a sudden because you got punched in the worng place (and if it broke, it could worsen your injury). What's more, to get such a well-fitting product, you'd need to know exactly all your dimensions. I doubt anyone knows their exact dimensions.

The second, more practical idea is to sew in sensors. Once the clothes are zipped, that triggers a switch. The clothes then adjust themselves until they feel equal contact with the skin or an evenly distributed (pre-determined by the manufacturer) tension in the fabric. But three things make me doubt this:

We see them put on the clothes . If they were self-adjusting, we would see Gamora's jacket adjust itself while she put it on.

We see the clothes damaged . This would probably cause some kind of malfunction, but the clothes stay the same size.

Rocket's clothes have a hole for his tail. Tails don't seem common in clothes-wearing folks of the MCU, but the ravagers somehow have an outfit to accomodate such a need?

To further discredit the idea of self-adjusting clothes, we go to Guardians of the Galaxy Vol.2. At around 59:15, Taserface tells one of his goons "Take [Groot] to the tailor."

Seeing how much of a time crunch they were in in the first volume, I doubt a regular tailor, even one with sophisticated machines, could make such nice-fitting clothes in such a small amount of time. So I have two theories.

The first theory is that the tailor is a machine of some kind. You step into a cabin that scans you in a few positions. Then you choose a model you like, maybe add some extra pockets or something. It then cuts the leather with a laser (yes, you can do that) and sews everything thanks to a flexible programming. It could still take a few minutes for everything to be ready (and possibly need additional time to cool down), but it makes more sense than some regular person (even master of its craft) accomplishing it as fast as it seems to be in Vol.1.

The second theory is that somehow, the ravagers have some kind of impossibly intelligent, nearly omnipotent (in some areas) being in their ship for the sole purpose of making clothes.

Now, you may ask yourself: "If they have such a powerful being with them, why don't they use it to a more profitable end?" Imagine a demi-god took residence in your ship. It says "I will make clothes for you in exchange for food and the occasional physical item. Just provide me with the equipment and material." That guy could kill you and your crew fairly quickly and efficiently if you cross it. Making him steal or kill for you is probably not a smart decision. So why keep this deal? You're a ravager. You go through clothes pretty quickly with all the violence you see on a daily basisin your line of work. Clothes of the quality this tailor gives you are expensive. Fabric, thread and leather? Less expensive. Even with the extra food and occasional book or video game to buy, it's still cheaper (and more practical) to keep this powerful being onboard.

You may also ask yourself: "Why would a powerful being go for such a deal?" Imagine some crabs came up to you and offered you free food and shelter forever and whatever object you want. All you have to do is occasionally scribble something on a post-it, maybe add some glitter or glue some pasta on it. Bonus, you get to travel with them to wherever they need to go. It might not be the thing for you, but to some, it's a pretty sweet deal. Plus, you can walk away if the deal no longer pleases you.

The machine theory is more plausible, but I like the idea of a demi-godlike being just minding his own business on his part of the ship, sometimes making clothes.

Plus, imagine waking up and finding out your previous crew of 50-100 crabs is nearly completely gone and there are some new guys, some less new guys, but less than a dozen crabs on your now much smaller ship. And the crabs explain to you that they killed the rest of the crew and battled a sentient ocean who is the father of this one crab. And they lost the crab captain in the process. And also shrimps were after them, but not really, anyway, they were defeated. And if you could please make the funeral bands you usually makes, it would mean a lot to them. Here's your breakfast by the way.

#Gotg #Guardians of the Galaxy #Gotg2 #Guardians of the Galaxy Vol.1 #Guardians of the Galaxy Vol.2 #MCU #The Tailor #I really hope they talk more about this tailor in the next movie #Gotg headcanons #Gotg headcanon #Sci-fi theory #Imaginary engineering #This tailor may be mentioned in the Chicken Noodle Soup incident

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gingersnapandgonzap · 2 years

Note

you mentioned “taking a hike is up there” for training so i presume you have your top 5? 10? list of training methods?

not even sure if a top five is there but i do have some preferred methods

back when i was super into it i found core exercises to be the absolute best method to get your guys fighting fit. maybe not the most fun unless you do it with friends or a lot of pokemon but i used to get gonzap to do crunches from a pull up bar we had in our backyard and it got him buff quick. i also used to put weights on around his ankles while setting him up on the bar and he seemed to really like how they changed his balance. idk if you can picture a skarmory hanging from a metal rod by his neck and doing crunches but he was awesome at it

now my favorite method is probably the simplest and that’s doing some yoga. ginger LOVES yoga time and it’s fun for me too. you just need a floor and a blanket and you’re off to the races. yoga is good not only for your core but your flexibility in general and also just is relaxing? i get out the mat and he starts squealing with excitement it’s so adorable and he’s such a good little sport!! just make sure you stretch before and after and you’re golden. not as fast, but still worthwhile and very enjoyable, plus super easy

another good one is just going on a plain old walk or jog with your guys. it’s dirt easy, free, and you’re outside having some time to yourself. downside is you’re not really building much if any muscle and would probably need something like weight lifting or other stuff to build more short muscle. but hey, if you’re starting out and don’t know what your training goals are yet going on a jog every morning is great. if you really wanna build some endurance, then i’d say hiking is a good option. the rougher the ground the better, though i know not everyone has an entire mountain behind their house so it’s not a perfect routine

and then just some other little tips:

-vitamins are ok, but don’t rely on them for everything. the best type of training is the stuff you do yourself and i’ve generally not found the same kind of success as manual training. they’re also expensive so there’s that

-i don’t have experience flying with gonzap but if you want a strong flier weight training might be your way to go. just make sure to gradually go up as your pokemon gets used to lifting weight so you don’t strain something cus lemme tell you a birds wing muscles take a hot second to heal

-work with your pokemon. do your own little workout along with them and you’ll find it’s both more fun and more rewarding cus hey you’re getting fit too. oh and pay attention to how your guy responds to various types of exercise. do they enjoy doing cardio like running or swimming? are flexibility exercises just not enough for them and they need something more? i never would’ve known ginger loved yoga so much if my mom didn’t suggest it after the core routine i did with gonzap didn’t seem to be doing it for the little dude

-try new stuff and learn. like if you’ve never tried pilates before and think they’re weird maybe just test them out at the end of your usual workout. yes you are going to suck at something you’ve never done before. yes that’s okay. i’d test stuff this way for about a week and see where we’re at. if you feel like they might be for you, like you’re working a muscle you just couldn’t quite get to with your previous routine, id say go for it. practice makes perfect

#pokemedia #pokemon irl #ivys training tips #ic post

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hermit-writes · 5 days

Text

“So, about dinner,” your voice says over the thin connection of the phone. I feel my stomach drop, filled with the old presence of swallowed disappointments. “We’re gonna have to reschedule.”

“That’s fine,” I say, forcing a smile on my face. “Your schedule’s a nightmare. I get it.” Years of retail hell takes over and keeps my tone light. Practice makes perfect, it drowns the urge to scream.

“You’re adorable,” you answer. “I knew you’d be flexible.” There’s laughter in your words, along with the love — you love everyone, so much, all the time.

“Yeah, no worries, let me know.” The line drops into silence with a sad beep. It matches the silence in my apartment, the bright sandals by the door and the bright lipstick drying tacky on my lips. It all feels silly and superfluous now.

I should call the restaurant, clear the reservation so they don’t loose out on the table, and let someone else enjoy the tasting in our stead. But talking seems to be the hardest thing in the world right now, so I text instead. I focus on the joy of hypothetical strangers on the waiting list as the phone plops on the arm of the couch. It’s ok.I wasn’t going to be hungry for all that food.

The door opens behind me. You haven’t needed to knock or ring in half of forever; the copy of the key the landlord doesn’t know about lives nestled on the ring with all the others you collect. Life follows you in. The sun on your skin, the strange pollen in your hair even as you toe out of shoes within two steps. Dragging the essence of the countryside that has ground itself in your pores into the white and gray corporate sterility of the city. Your smile is wide, pure delight as you giggle your way around my stunned form and into the kitchen. There’s a bundle in your arms, paper towels stiff in the way that indicates they were once dripping damp.

“See,” you say and you’re here and you’re real and I can do nothing but gasp in the sillage of your perfume with the open door pulling a draft or hot dry air against the AC. “I saw these this morning and I just couldn’t…”

You unwrap the paper layers as you talk, your hands moving steadily even as the words run from your mouth a thousand a minute. I lean over the melamine of the kitchen island to see what you’re doing. Paper, paper, paper, a whole roll’s worth it seems. And then, a knotted core of silk in bright garish colors.

I remember that scarf. We took a silk dying class, many years ago. Pulling faces at each other as we tied rubber and sinew around the fabric, measuring the colors and formulas with four hands working as two. “Aww, the two of you are cute,” the elderly couple had said. The class has been a gift from their grand-children, celebrating some implausible number of anniversaries. We didn’t tell them they were wrong, that your husband was waiting for you at home, that life didn’t turn out that way for everyone.

Now the scarf is holding something, something that glitters and moves like small rocks or like dice but without the sound. “Fairies?” I say.

“Yes! Oh my god I can’t remember the last time I was able to catch a swarm. And there’s no fusion new-cuisine that beats this. I got your mortar, can you get the kettle on?”

My mouth is dry as my stomach lurches, physically this time. I feel uneasy, but there’s no good way to tell someone you don’t want to indulge in childhood nostalgia. Besides what would be the point? I fill the kettle with tap water and settle it back on its base as you crunch and mill and smash, stone hitting stone with less and less in between. “Sorry, I turned vegan” isn’t gonna cut it, even as a joke. We both know that’s an impossible lie.

Autopilot gets the cream and the honey, then two mugs from the back of the cupboard. I’ve kept them, but they’re dusty from disuse. I start washing them as you drape yourself over my shoulder to see.

“So, while that settles, what’s new with you?”

“Not much.” Pass the first clean vessel so you can dry it. You know where I keep the dish towels. “I’m not liking the promotion as much as I thought I would.”

“Oh?”

“It’s just…” Stifling, I think. The way the layers of bureaucratic sediments have crusted over everything. The outrage when you point them out, in gasps and eyerolls and PIPs filled with business jargons that mean so little. “...unsatisfying,” I end, lamely.

“Pfft. They’re lucky to have you.”

You take the second mug off my hands. The kettle’s trip switch clicks over and then neither of us talk much as we scoop up the fairy powder. You sneak an extra spoonful in my mug. I pull my tongue at you but it’s a weak protest.

“Say what,” you giggle as we settle on the couch, warmth in our hands. “We drink that. Find something that passes for a clearing in this nightmare. A park. A parking lot. Something. We howl and dance and get some colors back into you.

I look at the clock, count the hours between now and tomorrow. There’s no way all the tells will have melted off me, all the wildness. My fangs. I picture the faces across a sea of cubicles, the ripples of whispers that’d follow.

“Sounds great,” I say.

#my writing #flash fiction #urban fantasy

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heavymetalmuppet · 3 months

Text

sycamore girl || chapter 3: vhenadahl

THE TZEDAKAH CHALLENGE: every time i post a chapter, if you have $5 or more to spare, donate it to life for gaza, a campaign by the municipality of gaza to restore the city's infrastructure. leave a comment with how much you donate for me to tally!

word count: 3843 < prev || chapter masterlist || next >

also available on ao3

—

Adahlee shifted on the fur she sat on, looking out over the frozen landscape. She and Solas sat cross-legged on a ledge overlooking Haven; the village noise echoed off the rocks, but it wasn’t so loud up there, more of a steady murmur. The wind was light today, only a breeze brushing her cheeks as Solas continued.

“… It is so much more than how hot a fire can burn, or how many wounds you can close.”

When Solas offered to tutor her in magic, she didn’t think this was how they would begin. Rather than blasting fire and ice, she and Solas rolled up a pelt for him to strap to his back, and set off on a hike. First lesson, he taught as they trudged through the snow: there is a lesson in everything. And if there was a lesson in everything, then she would have to parse the second lesson herself.

Listen to the breeze, and breathe with it as one, Solas encouraged. Brush the low branches of the pines as we pass. Feel the snow crunch beneath your boots. “I would prefer for us to go barefoot, but I digress,” he had muttered as an aside. It made Adahlee giggle quietly.

She wasn’t yet sure what the intent was, but she tried it anyway. All around her, nature murmured. Life murmured, and death progressed in the dried up undergrowth beneath the snow. Existence spoke to her without saying a word.

“I can…” She had whispered like the wind, “I can sense where I am in the world.”

“And do you sense the world in which you reside?”

Adahlee paused, her hand against the trunk of a tree. Solas waited patiently. She took another step, and another, and continued in a rhythm that was within everything around her.

“Yes. It’s a part of me. I'm a part of it.”

“Very good.” Solas stood as she climbed over a mass of boulders, then followed her up. “You understand the forces around and within us. Magic is one of those forces. Do you feel it in the air?”

“Well… I always felt the Breach,” Adahlee contemplated, “even aside from the mark.”

“Of course; the Breach is a magical phenomenon of great power. It is good that you recognized it, and the difference between it and your mark—however tightly they are bound together.”

Solas stopped on the ledge, next to a frozen waterfall, and Adahlee marveled at the sight before them: all of Haven spread below, nestled between mountain peaks that touched the sky. In the distance, the ruins of the Temple held the Breach aloft. She was reminded of the first day she awoke, the moment on the slope where her name flew free.

Solas laid the fur down on the icy rock, gesturing for her to sit. “But I want you to reach deeper.”

“Deeper?” Adahlee sat, and Solas joined.

“As you can feel the wind, the trees, and the snow, I want you to try and feel the magic of this place. Beyond the Breach. It may be difficult—it’s quite an interference, after all—but try.” Solas was always collected, but there was a sort of spark in his eyes as he spoke then, and he gestured with his hands. “Think of the physical and the Fade not as places, but states of being. The Veil is not a hard wall that separates them, nor even a flexible barrier—it is perspective made manifest. We exist concurrently in both states.

“As a mage, you can reach through the Veil or bend it to your will; everyone has a foot in each reality, but only we are aware of it.” Something changed in his face then, but it was so slight, Adahlee couldn’t put her finger on it. “You know the physical reality well. Now, it is time to find harmony with the other driving force of nature.”

And so, they meditated. With a guiding voice, she closed her eyes, and began learning to see. In and out, her breath became steam that melded with the rest of the air. She sensed the pelt beneath her, a guard as it was to the animal before it; and the frost beneath that; and the stone beneath that. The cycles upon cycles were illuminated like a sunrise.

Time was lost to her, and she didn’t know where the earth and air ended and she began. The Breach’s power tingled across her skin. She went deeper.

She could hear, see, feel the hum.

And when she drifted back, settled into her body, and opened her eyes, her second lesson had come to light: magic was in everything.

That was where they were then, and Solas was right; it was so much more. Adahlee looked out at Haven thoughtfully, watching the people bustle about. She felt the magic in her bones, and wondered.

“We all used to have magic, didn’t we?” Adahlee murmured. “Elves, I mean.”

“Yes, da'len.” Solas matched her quiet tone, and Adahlee thought she could hear a sort of sadness in it. “In the days of Arlathan, all elvenkind knew harmony with that force.”

Adahlee looked down at her hands. The mark didn’t shine through her glove anymore; it was just her. She laced her fingers together. “It’s a way of living, isn’t it? I mean…” She trailed off, trying to find the words.

“With a whole people so connected to a vital lifeblood of the world, comes a unique way of knowing that world?” Solas offered.

“Yes.”

There was quiet between them, then, contemplative. Without much thought, Adahlee murmured: “I want to take part in that knowledge.” She was then acutely aware that she spoke suddenly. “Sorry.”

“You need not apologize for speaking.” Solas said it with such calm firmness that she looked up at him. Composed as he was, there was that emotion in his eyes that she couldn’t decipher. “Especially not for speaking your mind. Not here, nor anywhere.”

Adahlee studied him for a long moment, surprised. Seeking out a lie. There was something within him that was carefully kept from most of his veneer, but she couldn’t sense the slime she knew all too well, of saying one thing and meaning another.

Slowly, she nodded. “Okay.”

It brought a very small smile to his face. He continued: “You wish to understand elven knowledge?”

“Not just understand it. Take part in it… live it.” She wrung her hands, a nervous habit. “I already have, in the alienage. But I want to know more.” She frowned. “They… they try to make us like shemlen. Like shemlen but not shemlen. I am elven. I grow with the vhenadahl.”

Solas’ eyebrows raised slightly. He was quiet, for a moment; he looked as though he were carefully considering his next words. “Well…” he started slowly, “there is knowledge that I hold, certainly. And my elven understanding of this world is not what you would find in an alienage, but nor is it Dalish. I have traveled far, and seen much in the Fade. What I carry is… very old. Older than Halamshiral, and the Tevinter Imperium.”

“Then teach me that.”

Solas seemed almost startled. “Many people are uninterested in things so ancient; such knowledge holds no bearing in their modern lives.” His tone bordered on disbelieving. “How would you take part in, live with, something considered dead?”

Adahlee sat up straighter. “The ways of our ancestors aren’t dead.”

Solas gave her a rueful, bitter smile, that might have been almost condescending if it weren’t so sad.

Adahlee persisted: “They’re—they’re not.” She wanted to hide in her cloak, still, and her throat felt tight with trepidation—but if she could speak her mind, then she would speak. Her lip shook, yet her eyes gleamed with a challenge, daring Solas to prove himself a hypocrite. “The shemlen have tried. Some of our own have tried, too. Mother did. But we're still ourselves, and not for our ears. We’ve changed—by necessity, perhaps—but not died. The ways we have changed are themselves elven! We wrought those ways, continue them with our own hands—it’s impossible to not be elven, it’s what I am!” Adahlee sighed. “In the alienage, the vhenadahl represents us. Our future is in the branches, and our roots are just that. I would know how deep they run, in order to grow into the sky—because we do grow, and we are alive, despite everything.”

Solas considered her. For all the wisdom she could weigh in his words, in his eyes, he looked as though he had stumbled upon something new. She tried to simply hold herself there, and not curl away. Just to try.

Finally, hesitantly, Solas spoke. “I… see. I suppose there’s no harm in sharing some of what I know.” Another hint of a smile graced his face, and though it seemed almost wary, it was still… surprisingly genuine.

A spark of excitement lit up her heart, but Adahlee didn’t quite let it take over yet, shifting where she sat. “Really? If—if you’re not sure, that’s okay—”

“Adahlee,” Solas said softly. “It’s quite alright. I would be glad, really. It’s simply that your perspective is… rather new to me.”

“Well, that’s okay!” Her eyes sparkled like sunlight on the snow, and she added excitedly: “And thank you!” Then she covered her mouth for how loud it was. Solas chuckled, and held up a hand.

“There is no need.”

Adahlee smiled from behind her fingers, and then let them fall away. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course, da'len. Questioning is how one learns.”

To question is to learn. Mulling over the words brought with it a freedom she had never known. And so, she asked softly, but without reserve: “Do you know the Elvish word for magic?”

“Se. A simple root for a simple concept, to the elves of old.”

Adahlee tried out the word. “Se.”

It was new, and ancient, and familiar in her mouth.

—

“Is your coat warm enough?”

“Yes.”

“And do your boots fit well?”

“Yes, they’re fine.”

Cassandra picked over the array of supplies across Adahlee’s new (relatively speaking) bed. Tomorrow they would set out to the Hinterlands, a sort of journey that Adahlee had never undertook before—mostly on foot, through the cold and wilds. All she had known was Ostwick, small city that it was, before her employment, which had had her and her mother in the back of a bumpy caravan to Haven. She didn’t know what to expect, she had confessed to Cassandra, who had bestowed on her the unsurprising revelation: a lot of walking.

There was a knock on her bedroom door. “Come in,” Adahlee called.

It was Solas who opened the door. “Ah—making preparations, I see. Excellent. I’ve another tool for you, Adahlee—if you’re all done here?”

Cassandra nodded. “You seem well prepared, if you’ve no more concerns.”

“I think I’ll be alright.” Adahlee smiled up at Cassandra, shy but grateful. “Thank you for helping me.”

“I am glad to.” Cassandra returned the smile, and it soothed the little pique of Adahlee’s nerves that had frayed in asking for help.

The three exited the chantry, Cassandra splitting off while Solas led Adahlee to the cluster of cabins around the apothecary. “Just a moment,” he said, disappearing inside his hut—and reemerging with a staff.

It was a solid branch—not straight, but with a beautiful, imperfect wave to it. It was a smoky brown tone, smoothed down at the haft, and still clinging to its bark on either end—sharp at the bottom, fanning out to a few small points at the top.

“I’ve been trying to find the right fit for your stature—too long, and it will catch on the ground when holstered.” Solas held it out to her in both hands. “Try it.”

Adahlee’s eyes widened, looking between his face and his outstretched hands. “This is for me?”

“Of course. I normally wouldn’t recommend a staff so early in one’s training—having a conduit for your power can be dangerous, if you don’t know how to wield it. But you may need it in the coming days.” He leveled her with a stern look. “So you must promise to work hard at our lessons, and follow my instruction.”

Adahlee stood up straight, and though she gulped, she still lifted her chin. “I promise.”

Satisfied, Solas nodded. “Good. Now, just try holding it. See if it’s easy to move with, first of all.”

Carefully, Adahlee took up the staff—and immediately felt as if she had breathed into it. It was like the branch had veins, responding to the pump of blood from her heart. Adahlee marveled as she stood with its end to the ground, feeling her magic flow with that of the staff. She just held it, and walked back and forth. “It doesn’t feel cumbersome.”

“Then I think it will be a suitable fit. Do you notice anything else?”

“It’s like…” Adahlee paused, considering how to describe it. “It’s like it’s speaking to me. Or maybe—my magic is speaking, and the staff is responding.”

“Excellent. You must consider your staff as an extension of yourself, a place for your magic to flow.” Solas sighed. “We will be with you and protect you, but we are venturing into battlefields, and we must get you to the rifts. You will need to learn to defend yourself; it would be foolish to leave you without a weapon.”

Adahlee stared at him, then back at the staff, seeing it with new eyes. A weapon. What parts of her that had filled with wonder now churned into unease.

“I will teach you how to use it,” Solas reassured.

“But I—” Adahlee frowned, shuffled in place. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Da’len—Adahlee,” he said more seriously. Adahlee looked back up at Solas; he held her attention with cool calmness. “It is not on you to save anyone who would unduly wish you harm.”

For some reason, that left Adahlee… almost bewildered. It was logical, of course—a statement that most anyone could find obvious. But hearing it out loud made something new click. She opened and closed her mouth, trying and failing to find something to say.

Solas continued in her silence: “I understand your hesitation, and it speaks well of you. Violence is a means to an end, regrettable when it’s necessary; but as your tutor, I will help you with this.” His eyes hardened, determined. “And you must live, Adahlee. You must. Only your mark can seal the rifts, and fully heal the Breach—but besides that, you deserve life. So live, by any means necessary. Do you understand?”

Adahlee took a deep, shaky breath. And another, until it steadied. Live, by any means necessary. She could do that. She’s been doing that. Still nervous, but with growing resolve, Adahlee nodded. “I understand, Solas.”

Solas studied her for a moment. Then, he let up. “Very good.” He ducked back into his hut for just a moment, and reappeared with his own staff in hand. “Now, to the training grounds. We will learn some basic stances.”

—

The Hinterlands weren’t far from Haven. A couple days of travel, regularly, now that Haven was no longer so carefully hidden from the world. But the fighting made it worse; even with Leliana's scouts finding the quickest route, weaving around the conflict left their party on the road longer.

The second time they had set up camp for the night, Cassandra was immediately off with the accompanying scouts and foot soldiers; planning their next move, monitoring the perimeter, talking over scrolls from incoming ravens. Solas retreated to a tent to rest, leaving Adahlee and Varric chatting at the campfire. She admitted with enthusiasm behind her shyness that she’d read some of his books, and her eyes lit up when the conversation swayed to Tale of the Champion.

“Is she really human and elven? The Champion, I mean?”

“Sure is.” Varric chuckled at the excitement that sparkled in her green eyes. “That was no lie on my part, and Hawke never bothered to hide it. Nothing to be ashamed of, she always said.”

“Wow,” Adahlee breathed, awestruck. “I heard a lot about her even before you wrote the book—we were close by, after all—but I wasn’t sure what to believe.”

“Well, some of the more extravagant stories were probably spun by me, and got weirder the further they went.” Varric grinned wryly as he said it. “What sort of things did you hear in Ostwick?”

“Aside from that?” Adahlee pursed her lips, then counted on her fingers. “Slayed a dragon, raised an army of mabari hounds to attack the Arishok—who she fought naked—caught an arrow between her teeth, would leave trails of rose petals where she walked…”

“One and a half of those are true.”

“One and a half?”

“I’ll leave you to figure out which ones.” Varric chuckled, and held up his hands in mock defense when she pouted at him.

“Well, at least Ostwick was a lot less boring with all that talk flooding in,” she relented.

“Just doing my part.” Varric gave her a joking, one finger salute. “Was Ostwick boring? I mean, I've been—and I have to say, it’s no Kirkwall—but many would call that a good thing.”

Adahlee snickered. “Probably is. Ostwick may be backwater, sure, but it isn’t so bad. When you grow up there, you get better at finding things to keep you occupied.”

“Get up to much trouble?” Varric chuckled.

“Well… not really,” she admitted sheepishly. “Mostly, I just liked to read. I think the most daring thing I'd do was search for carvings in the city walls; Mother didn’t like me wandering. But I think what I loved most was tending to the vhenadahl.” Adahlee's expression went bright as she said it. “Lots of people would pitch in, and I liked to help. Tidying up, freshening the paint, tying ribbons to the branches for celebrations. Keeping the tree itself healthy, too. And the hahren would tell stories all the while.”

“Daisy liked to do that.” Varric smiled. “Including the stories. Hawke helped with the tending, which scandalized folks in Hightown, but Hawke did a lot of things that made them clutch their pearls.” Varric laughed, and Adahlee joined him, leaning forward excitedly as he continued. “And Hawke's little sister usually joined her, before the Circle. Their father was from an alienage, back in Ferelden; the family took shelter in a few, and once with a Dalish clan, before settling in Lothering. Said the old tree made Kirkwall feel more like home.”

“Wow,” Adahlee murmured again, her hands clasped together. She wiggled her toes, nervous but eager, with words on the tip of her tongue that turned over and over in her head. Quickly, she looked around—Cassandra and their people were still busy, and no sound came from Solas' tent. When she turned back to Varric, he wore an expression that was somehow both curious and knowing.

She leaned closer, and lowered her voice. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.” Varric matched her tone.

Adahlee took a steadying breath. “I—I named myself, too,” she confessed. “For the vhenadahl. Because I—well, I—” Adahlee stuttered and stumbled, then sighed for it.

“Easy, kid.” Varric patted her arm. “I get it. I chose my own name because the one I was given wasn’t really me. When I was born, everyone thought I'd grow up to be a respectable kalna girl—and look how that turned out.” Varric chuckled, and Adahlee felt like the sun was shining out of her. His smile was kind and understanding as he said: “Correct me if I'm wrong, but I got the feeling that you have the opposite case.”

“Yes!” Adahlee bounced where she sat on the ground. “Yes, that’s me!”

Varric grinned at her. “People like us can just sort of tell with each other, huh?”

“Yes!” Adahlee said again, clapping her hands in excitement. “That’s what I thought! And elves—we have our own understandings of gender, right, did Hawke and Merrill tell you that? Did Fenris?”

“They did.” Varric's laugh was jovial.

“I’m like that! In a feminine way! And once I realized it, everything made sense!” Full to bursting with euphoric energy, Adahlee rolled back and forth on the ground. Varric laughed more, making her laugh too—it was a vicious cycle. “That was a long time ago. And my name is unique, there’s no other Adahlees that I ever heard of, and I had it in my head forever! When I told you, and Cassandra, and Solas—that was the first time I introduced myself!”

“Well, damn, I'm honoured.” Varric kept chuckling even as she straightened up, grinning wildly. “And it’s a good name, too. Tree-ee,” he drew out playfully.

Adahlee crowed, then quickly slapped her hands over her mouth for how loud it was. It made Varric snort and chortle, especially when Solas peered out of his tent, looking drowsy.

“Having fun?” He asked, one brow raised.

“I’m sorry!” Adahlee said quickly, dampening her joy now. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Solas' smile was reassuring. “Not to worry, da'len. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Catch your beauty sleep, Chuckles. We'll get you when dinner is ready.”

Solas rolled his eyes, and Adahlee kept laughing as Varric twiddled his fingers in a fancy wave, and the tent flap fell back into place.

Finally, she cleared her throat. Her sides hurt. “Tree-ee,” she agreed. “I didn’t… well. I was nervous to be how I actually wanted, before, instead of just—going with it. It was easier to just be quiet, but now, I'm… I'm finally doing it.” Her cheeks felt hot with joy, but the smile on her face faltered. “Is it… wrong of me, to feel glad for a fresh start? In all of this?”

“No, Adahlee.” Varric placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Not at all. Hold onto the good that comes out of shit like this; it makes it easier, believe me.” He offered a comforting smile. “And hey, if you ever need anything, let me know. I've got a big network of people like us. I know a number of ladies like you, even.”

Her eyebrows shot up, and she felt like she could shout from a mountaintop. “Really?”

“Really. If you'd like, I could send out a word or two. You want advice, kind words, stories, resources? Got you covered. I'm sure they’d be happy to help a little sister.”

A little sister. Tears welled in Adahlee’s eyes, and she lurched forward to wrap Varric in a hug, then pulled away just as quick, shy but ecstatic. “Thank you.” It came out a watery murmur.

Varric patted her back, and beneath his carefully crafted good humour, she saw softness; it was in his eyes. “No problem, Sapling.”

Adahlee blinked. “Sapling?”

“Well, is there anything else I should call a little tree? Though, you are taller than me…”

Hesitant yet playful, she teased: “Well… that’s not saying much.” It pulled a loud, pleasantly surprised laugh from Varric, and Adahlee grinned brightly. She wiped away her tears. “I like Sapling, though.”

“Sapling it is, then.”

#no cis man is that proud of his chest hair lol #i don't think dragon age has any canon words used in-world for trans shit aside from that qunari term #that i already have beef with that's too complicated for me to get into in the tags #so for the time being everyone's just like iykyk and that's good enough for me lol #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dai #sycamore girl #adahlee #writing

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theunaestheticstudyblr · 3 years

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Tips for a super busy life

If you're a college student, chances are you're busy. If you're a college student with a job, you're super busy. And sometimes things get hectic and out of hand. As someone who works full time and does school full time and has pets here are some of my favorite tips!

Don't have a super firm schedule for the small things. Don't block in times for things like lunch, baths, or reading. Sometimes things get insane and you need to have flexibility to move things around.

Slept in your makeup? Get some olive or coconut oil and clean the smudging around your eyes. Put on a light color shimmer shadow on your lids, put your highlighter a little higher than normal, and if you have dry skin, throw some on your brow bones, nose, and chin. Doing this will help give you a more refreshed look, making it seem like you got your sleep and keep up with skin care. Make sure to moisturize if you have time and remember to take it off when you get home.

Pack your bag/lunch/whatever the night before. I promise you, you're going to forget something in the morning so make sure it's done and ready for you to grab and go in the morning.

Cook big meals. Cook enough for 3 or 4 people when you cook. It takes maybe 5 minutes longer and will give you several meals.

Schedule one day a month where you do nothing. No chores, no work, no study. Nothing.

Getting up early not only let's you get things done sooner, but it makes you want to go to bed earlier, keeping you out of trouble. You'll save some money too.

Let your professors know when the semester starts that you're working and have family things and talk to them about the course load, assignments, etc. A lot of times, they'll help you out and extend deadlines when needed.

Make friends in class. You can borrow notes on days you miss.

Clean as you go. Wash dishes while cooking, put clothes in the hamper while changing. Put things away after use. It saves so much time and stress.

Sweep every day. Trust me on this.

If you're on campus, just study on campus. Don't waste time in a commute.

Work on assignments as soon as you get them.

Study a little bit evey day. Make flashcards on your phone. I recommend the flashcards app. I use it and have the premium version and it's amazing. I can study while I'm at work, walking between classes, etc.

If you're buying something you use a lot of, shop price per ounce and buy it in bulk. It'll save you time, money, and stress. For example, I eat a lot of rice because it's easy, fast, and cheap. I buy the 5lb bag for $0.07/Oz and it can last me a month sometimes. Fewer trips to the store yes please.

Freeze your fruits and veggies and basically anything else. Stocks, soups, sauces, meat, everything. This way you can cook a bunch at once and freeze it and have it whenever you're in a time/money crunch.

Use your pets as your daily exercise. Take them for a walk, run around the house with them, whatever. But they'll get you up and moving.

Take super good notes in class

Find songs about the topic you're studying and listen to them while on your commute.

Take time every day to move, eat, clean, and relax. Trust me, you'll get more done if you take care of yourself.

Get your vitamin levels checked

Keep jackets, umbrellas, keys, and shoes by the door.

Buy your paper products in bulk.

Crockpots are your new best friend. Throw some shit in there before you leave for the day and come home to fresh, hot dinner! And yes you can make much more than just stews and dips in them! They sell small ones at Walmart for like $15

Eat in the mornings. Please

Water will give you energy in the morning

Keep your things organized. And again, put them back after use.

Please feel free to add your own!!!!!

#study blog #studyblr #student #study hard #productivity #school #student life #studying #busy #busy life #school tips #tips and tricks #tips #college tips #university advice #school advice #advice #life advice

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phoebe-delia · 2 years

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Daffodils

Hurt/comfort, discussions of death, reference to canon temporary death, and references to canon child abuse.

Leaves crunched under Harry's feet, reminding him suddenly of tissue paper. He recalled, back on Privet Drive, picking up the tatters of thin paper Dudley had left behind after shredding through it to reach the presents Petunia had meticulously wrapped. He would crush the flimsy stuff in his fist so it wrinkled before he put it in the bin. He'd always secretly looked forward to that particular chore; since it meant he was often alone in the house while his relatives were out to lunch or dinner to celebrate. And it meant Harry got some time to himself, to tear at the paper himself if he wanted.

It was usually satisfying to listen to the snap of browned leaves; to be destructive of something inanimate and insignificant. But he couldn't appreciate it much, feeling anxious as he walked around and around and around the forest. Looking for the damned spot. For some mark left behind. He resisted the urge to clear the leaves and study the dirt, looking for tracks in the ground—footprints, perhaps, leading to where he'd stood that day.

He searched. Kicked at leaves and dirt. Glared at the sky and cursed whatever was beyond it.

Finally weary, he sat upon a large nearby rock and pressed his eyes into the heels of his palms. When he blinked back into focus, he finally noticed the pink tinge of the clouds and the retreating sun. How long had he been out here? He could've cast a Tempus and—he noticed as his tailbone protested—he'd forgotten a cushioning charm on the rock. Still, he didn't bother with either. Sometimes he needed to be a Muggle.

Suddenly, there was a crack, and then—

"Harry, it's getting late." Draco's eyes were full of concern—a look Harry was still struggling to distinguish from pity, no matter how many times Draco insisted it was the former.

"What time is it?" Harry mumbled. He sniffed, nose cold in the crisp autumn air.

Draco sat next to him on the rock, casting a spell to soften it. "Close to dinner. Can you continue the search tomorrow?"

"I've got to grade papers tomorrow," Harry bent over, elbows on his knees, running his hands over his hair.

Draco hummed. "So do I. But then, such is the wonder of a weekend. Free time is generally more flexible."

"I haven't found it yet." Harry glanced at Draco. "I thought I'd know it the minute I walked in here again, but I can't find it."

"Why do you want to?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"No, but you've got one."

Harry picked at his fingernails. "I died, Draco. I died here, somewhere."

Draco nodded. "And then you came back."

"Yeah, but—I still died. And when people die, they get something that...To acknowledge it. I don't want a funeral, or like, a grave or whatever. But I want...something."

"You died," Draco said softly. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to acknowledge that. But you also have to live your life at the same time. We can look for it together, as much and as long as you want until we find it, but there's no rush. You've been out here for hours and it's time for dinner. So. Are you ready to go?"

Harry sighed and nodded. "Yes, let's go." He let Draco pull him to his feet, keeping their hands clasped as they walked.

Harry shivered, and Draco tsked, casting a light warming charm over them both. "Honestly, Potter, you might've defeated a megalomaniacal wizard but you are not immune to colds."

Harry chuckled. "I'm just—" he cut himself off, stopping in his tracks as a sense of deja vu washed over him. He looked down at his feet and then turned around to face toward the forest. His breath caught, and Draco looked at him quizzically.

"This is it," Harry swallowed against the lump in his throat. "I don't—I don't know what to..."

"I've got an idea," Draco offered. At Harry's nod, he drew his wand and whispered an incantation. Harry gasped as daffodils grew up around his feet, and he jumped back to let them grow where he'd been standing. He moved next to Draco, watching the other man cast two more spells.

"Why did you—I mean, not that I'm complaining, it's just—"

"Daffodils symbolize rebirth." Draco cleared his throat. "New beginnings. The preservation and protective charms should let them live forever and not be picked or ripped up from the ground. It's not a headstone, exactly, but it's...Something."

Harry felt his eyes prickle with tears. He grasped Draco's hand again and gave him a wobbly smile. "Thank you," he whispered. "It's perfect."

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thatbangtanbloom · 3 years

Text

seasons | myg

min yoongi x reader

categories: fluff word count: 4.5k

synopsis: being an english teacher for the biggest boy-band in the world was something years of teaching and tutoring university had prepared you for... but falling for a particular rapper with gummy eyes was not something your credentials compared you for

・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

The change of season signifies something more than the Earth’s rotation at exactly 23.6 degrees and the approximation of the equator shifting further form the sun, but also a change of feelings. Feelings could manifest to something deeper, something far more sublime than the sound of leaves being crunched under one’s feet. The slightest tickle of a breeze that combs over one’s scarf — something so delicate and majestic, yet fleeting. This delicate description could depict autumn. Moreover, it could depict the start of a new relationship.

It would be the latter for the purpose of this story.

It was the fourteenth of May in 2018 when YN LN began her work as an English teacher to, then, the largest boy group in the Korean popular music industry, BTS. Her previous occupation of teaching in London solidified her credentials that proved pleasing to the BigHit executives. Never mind her not being an English speaker, if you could teach at Oxford, you could teach anywhere.

“There are many rules here.” were the first words her superior, Lee Soyeon, told her through pursed lips and a furrow in her brow. “The first of it would be to always have two versions of the lesson plans. The members all have varying levels of English, so it is natural to be considerate of that.” YN has to fight the urge to roll her eyes in response to these words. Did they expect her to be a rookie?

“The second of this would be to always be flexible. Their schedules do not always align, so you may be teaching all the boys at once or only a couple — this largely depends on who they intend to have speaking in interviews, given that they will be promoting in America.” Soyeon continues on as she places down a metallic silver folder with ‘PROFICIENCY’ written across the top in scribbled handwriting.

“Next, please be on time. This is closely tied to the previous one. You will likely travel with the boys when on tour. While we do have interpreters as well as translators, we would appreciate having the English tutor as well to understand the nuances that we may not pick up on… this will be particularly helpful in the European tour.” Soyeon smiles warmly at her. “You will work mostly with the communications department, so I know you are going to be in good hands.”

YN nods solemnly as she listens to these words. She remembers hearing the same thing nearly verbatim when she first accepted the job. “Yes, I understand that. I am happy to be a valuable asset.”

“I apologize.. but I have not finished.” Soyeon sends YN a pointed look. “Lastly, please do not fraternize or show too much of your personal lives with the members. The members have a tendency to become comfortable quickly. We like knowing they trust us.. but do not become too acquainted with them.” She smiles at her. “YN-ssi, I do believe that we will get along quite well if we can follow these rules.”

Truthfully speaking, YN hated to follow rules that proved to be a reiteration of common sense. But she only nods slowly, knowing that it was better to withstand it when the pay at BigHit was so tremendous.!? Besides, how hard would it be for her to keep her distance from seven boisterous boys? In between the variety show that they filmed for entitled ‘Run BTS’, photo shoots for magazines both domestic and abroad, dance practices for their upcoming comeback and new music for the fans to listen to, the schedule of meeting them as an English tutor was little to none.

But when they met, it had been a hurricane.

Yoongi was not an outgoing man in the sense. He was a social chameleon at best, only adapting after his six other members at the stage and he feels comfortable in the environment that he was in. He quietly padded into the artist lounge that the other six of them sat crowded at.

“What do you think she will be like?” Jimin asks with a glint of mischief in his eyes. It was so boring to just have the same stylist and makeup artists to talk to all the time. Their managers were no better, usually coaxing them to focus on work besides the trivial things.

Taehyung groans as he rubs his temples. “I just hope there’s no grades or quizzes. You know.. those things do not dictate self worth.” He says more so for himself than the others.

“What’s he on about?” Hoseok chuckles from beside Yoongi and nudges him. “You’ll probably find this as a breeze from that English academy that you were attending.”

Yoongi chuckles as he shakes his head quickly. “I don’t think so. The only English practice I’ve gotten is with our interviewers and Namjoon-Ah, we’re in the same boat.”

“I’d hardly say so.” Namjoon replies with a hum. “We all are learning something, right?” His level headed tone quiets the members all at once. Jungkook nearly faints in admiration for his intelligent hyung.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m YN LN and it’s lovely to meet you.” YN smiles as she settles down her papers. “I’ve heard many good things about you.”

Yoongi, though naturally quiet, finds his throat going dry at the sight of her. He knew that their teacher would have to be someone foreign. He had met many foreigners, but why was he beginning to drift into a daze like that? It made no sense to him and stopped him in his tracks. The poor boy was too in awe to realize it was his turn to introduce himself.

“Yah, Yoongi-ah! Pay attention.” Seokjin teases with a laugh just as his hand makes contact with Yoongi’s shoulder. “San-sonsaengnim asked for your name.”

Yoongi blinks. He was a bit confused, but he opted to stand up straighter. “Hello, my name is Min Yoongi.”

“You also have to answer where you’re from and a hobby, hyung.” Hoseok says from the floor in front of him and smiles at YN politely. He could listen and pay attention well.

“Ah, right.” Yoongi nods as he forces himself to look up from the piece of paper laid out in front of him and at her. He’s thankful for his longer sleeves that he balls into his fist when he speaks. “I’m from Daegu, Korea. My hobby is music.” He nods after speaking to demonstrate that he was done before he sits down.

YN smiles warmly at him. Yoongi’s quite, yet dominating presence had caught her eye immediately. There was something about the allure in his eyes, the cuteness of his button nose, and his polite smile that made her smile. “Thank you for sharing that, Yoongi.”

Their first meeting was simple, yet sweet. What else could have gone on with the rules that were casted with iron? YN did not think much of it, as Yoongi hadn’t.

Their first few sessions began with her teaching the seven members at their various paces. While a bit more difficult, their schedules seemed to be more flexible than what YN’s superior, Soyeon, had anticipated. If anything, YN liked having the seven of them together. She was an ARMY before the job, but even that could not capture how much of light the seven of them held collectively. More than anything, she preferred it.

It was almost unspoken. The spark between YN and Yoongi was undeniable. Whenever she passed by him, he sucked in a deeper breath to try not to smell her perfume. Did she have to smell so sweet? It was even harder when all of them would work on the short tasks she assigned to them and she lingered besides him to check on his work.

“Yoongi-ssi, you continue to impress me.” YN laughs softly as she hands him back another worksheet. There was little to no feedback on his short narrative writing he was assigned to do. “Something tells me that you know more English than you let on!”

Seokjin snickers from beside them as he continues to work on his own paper. Yoongi flushes scarlet at the praise. “I can just say that I have had a good teacher.” He forces himself to meet her eyes.

YN enjoyed praise when her actions were recognized, but something about Yoongi’s words had a deeper meaning. Did he realize what he was doing to her? Remembering to keep it professional, it took everything in her to not turn red.

She fails imminently.

He doesn’t say anything as he watches her cheeks tint scarlet and bites back a smile. Perhaps it was not so much in his head after all.

The other moments that encapsulated them often were the times they met in the hallway in passing. Yoongi with his bag in one arm and an Iced Americano in the other, he always stopped to greet her with a gummy smile no matter how much of a rush he was in. YN, equally busy to meet with some trainees in the latest debut lineup (something to do with Tomorrow by Together? Where did BigHit ever get these names?) and improve their own English, she would stop too.

Their shortest conversations were always the sweetest. The look of concern after passing by Yoongi’s studio later in the day when she would stay for the communications meetings and briefly about to leave out for their division parties. It took everything in her to mind her business.. but what harm would it do if she just spoke a few words to him?

She knocks lightly at his studio because she did not know the passcode.

A few moments pass before the door swings open to be greeted with a tired looking Yoongi. His hair still styled to perfection from the photo shoot he had done earlier, it is a stark contrast from his OFFWHITE hoodie and black jeans. He looks surprised to see her, but sends her a polite smile.

“Hi San-sonsaengnim.” He nods to her out of respect to simulate bowing to her.

“Hi.. I.. I just wanted to say goodnight.” It was rare for her to feel so flustered. How did he still look so good?

Yoongi stares at her for a moment. “That’s very sweet of you.” He wipes away the sleep that pools at his eyes and smiles. “Thank you.” His smile is genuine. His smile was far different than what could be seen in the interviews or performances.

And just like that, her cheeks tinted red at his words. Why were those few words of gratification so quick to make her cheeks turn red like that?

“YN-sonsaengnim..? Your cheeks are red.” He says slowly to bite back his laugh. “Are you..” he hopes to lighten the situation as he notices the flash of worry that runs through her eyes. “—are you allergic to me?”

The question makes them both laugh. They know surely that is not the case, but she is thankful that she does not have to explain herself.

“No, no.. they are just my allergies. To.. uh.. to the vent!” She gestures to the vent just above Yoongi’s door. “I’ll get going… good night! Don’t work too late!” She rushes off without another word.

Yoongi only smiles to himself as he waits for her to disappear around the corner and sighs. He knew that she was meant to only teach him English.. but why was his heart rattling in his chest like this?

Days would pass before YN would see Yoongi again. Preparation for a short promotion in Busan for their fan meeting left few and far between meetings. She knew little about Busan besides the beaches and that Jimin and Jungkook were from there.

“Noona-sonsaengnim!” One of the younger members greeted her as they filed into the class. YN could only smile, it had been Jungkook. He was one of the more ambitious ones when it came to English learning. It had something largely to do with the covers he posted every now and then.

YN laughs softly as she smiles. “Hello, Jungkook-ah.” She notices how his smile grows wider. All the boys were eager to be greeted like friends, rather than mere acquaintances.

“Hi Noona.” Jimin waves as he makes his way into the lounge and squeezes beside Jungkook. The younger groans dramatically.

“Hi, Jimin-ah.” YN laughs. She had grown quite used to how boisterous their greetings were.

She waits for the other members to file in, but no one else joins. She hums to herself. No Yoongi? She was used to it from before when he worked with other members within the rap line to show music to their producers.. but why had this time felt so different from the others?

“It’s just us today, Noona-sonsaengnim.” Jungkook says as he fixes his glasses. He had opted for wearing them after being complimented once for them. Besides, he didn’t mind looking a bit smarter.

Jimin smiles. “I hope we can have fun with just the three of us.” He says as he pulls out the folder with his assignment from his bag. He sends her a playful wink.

The rest of their session continues as usual with Jungkook and Jimin’s questions about the prepositions in English —- why did they have so many and Korean so little? —- and the usual jokes that they made. The two of them balanced each other out and YN was thankful for how friendly they were. It was much easier to teach when your students didn’t hate you and you didn’t hate them.

Unbeknownst to YN, the seven men were very well aware of the small crush that Yoongi harbored for her. It was hard not to acknowledge it when Yoongi acted so uncharacteristically warm to her when he rarely showed any interest in the new hires unless they could help him with his sound equipment. He even asked the members to send his greetings even if he was not attending an English session. He never did that with any of their prior tutors… So what made her special?

YN, as much as she wanted to ignore it for job ethics, knew how she felt. Ever the rule breaker, she was not particularly fond of their being a limitation on her feelings. If she liked someone, she was going to feel her emotions in their entirety.

She frowns as she bites down on a roll of kimbap in the BigHit cafeteria. Talks of BigHit’s future endeavors made the halls ever crowded and less places to sit between the employees, trainees, and idols who worked there. Why did Min Yoongi have to be adorable and sweet? It wasn’t her fault that she could just eat him up—.

“Is anyone sitting here?” A voice greets her and YN looks up. YN’s usual eating buddies (Sehoon and Ryuyeon) were still working through lunch after having a hangover from the last company dinner and needed to catch up.

YN shakes her head with a nod. “No, no, go ahead.” She smiles at the girl in front of her.

“Thank you.” She sits down with a smile. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met. I’m Jisoo, by the way. I intern in the Public Relations department.” She gestures to her badge and continues to eat.

YN nods. “YN. I work in the Communications department.” She says before she begins to chew on another roll.

Jisoo nods quietly for a moment before putting down her chopsticks. “That sounds fun… I’m stuck with corporate social responsibility. What do you do..?” She asks in an effort to make conversation.

“English. I teach mostly the BTS members. Some of the trainees who are in the debut lineup as well.” YN nods with a small smile.

The silence that falls over the girls for a brief moment before it is intercepted by the clearing of a throat. YN turns her head to look at the man who stands in front of her and smiles.

“Hi there.” Yoongi greets her with a smile. “May I sit here?” He asks as he lingers with his tray in his hand. It was rare for him to eat lunch in the cafeteria when he tended to skip lunch, but why not have extra time with YN?

“Of course. Go ahead.” She nods with a smile before scooting over slightly to make room for him.

Jisoo raises her brows but remains quiet as she pulls out her phone to scroll through it.

Yoongi glanced over before understanding it meant she was not interested in talking. At least he could focus on speaking to YN. “So… how are you these days? I haven’t been able to come to class… the album preparation and tour is a lot for me.”

YN’s eyes soften. “I’m doing well. I understand. Your English is improving quite fast so I know you can make it up quickly.”

This time, Yoongi blushes at the compliment. “Thank you.” He pauses as he picks up his ssam wrap. “Ah.. you know.. kimbap is good but there’s a cooler way to eat.”

“Hyung, did you try to show your trick before I got here?” Hoseok laughs as he glances at the space between Jisoo and some member of the finance department. He nods to it to ask for permission and Jisoo nods.

Since when did the idols sit with regular employees? Jisoo squeezes to the edge of the table to allow Hoseok space and furrows her brows. Glancing between Yoongi, Hoseok, and YN, her brows narrow together. They were obviously close.

Yoongi laughs as he watches Hoseok sit down. “I was just about to. It’s a habit I picked up in high school since we never have enough time to eat around her.”

Hoseok nods with a laugh. “It’s true. We had even shorter lunchtimes while we were trainees.”

YN nods with a smile. “Then let’s see it!” She puts down her chopsticks to watch Yoongi.

Yoongi questions for a moment how exactly far gone he is to be willing to do this in front of the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, but reminds himself that his dignity could wait. Thus, he picks up the piece of lettuce with practiced skill and then adds the fixings of the wrap: meat, carrots, eggs, and more into his mouth with a shy blush on his cheeks.

YN finds it endearing before laughing just as hard as Hoseok does. She even finds her heart fluttering a bit more. “Yoongi-ssi.. that’s a good trick I think everyone should learn.”

Jisoo’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. Yoongi? They were really close! She was fairly certain there wasn’t a company rule against it… but even so… She silently finishes her food before waving goodbye to them and leaves.

Hoseok chuckles. “I take your friend doesn’t talk much.” He scoots over before waving over for Namjoon to come join them.

YN shrugs. “We just met.. but you could say that.” She laughs as she continues to eat. “Do you have any tricks to, Hoseok-ssi?”

Hoseok flusters equally pink as Yoongi had done and shakes his head. “Not right now, no. I’m fairly sure I can come up with some, though.”

“What’s all the jokes about?” Namjoon asks with a smile. He puts down his tray of food and settles into the chair.

“Hyung was just showing noona-sonsaengnim his ssam wrap trick.” Hoseok replies with a small chuckle. “I think she liked it.

YN laughs. “I thought it was pretty cool!” She turns to glance at Yoongi who was still trying to make the pink flee from his cheeks.

“I thought you had asked her already,” Namjoon chuckles, immediately making Yoongi’s cheeks return to their original pale color.

“Ask me what?” YN asks in confusion. “Come on, we’re friends now. You don’t have to be so formal to ask me things.”

Both Hoseok and Namjoon share a knowing smile. For the better of the last six months, they were keenly aware of Yoongi’s crush growing into something more. They knew their hyung would not jump on asking her out unless he was pushed to it.

“About.. uh..” Yoongi flounders like a fish out of water. How could they throw him under the bus like that? “About coming on tour to us when we go to the States and Europe?”

Namjoon snickers behind his own ssam wrap and shakes his head. That was not the exact question they were looking forward to, but it was a start.

“What? Really?” YN smiles brightly. “I would love it too! It’s just, I’d have to make sure it was okay with the company since I teach the trainees too—“

“It’s okay.” Hoseok says with a nod. “We will put a good word in so you can just travel with us and teach us. How does that sound?”

“Well.. I can’t say no to that. Besides, I love traveling.” YN shrugs her shoulders with a smile.

Yoongi nods firmly. “You also probably could visit home. We aren’t going to Spain directly, but we will spend a good deal of time in France and England. You could visit then.”

Her eyes soften at Yoongi’s words. He had remembered from one of their sessions about how much she missed home. How lucky was she that Yoongi was so attentive and sweet? If he hadn’t been so perfect already, she would have wondered if he had been dreaming.

“That would be perfect. I love it.” YN smiles warmly in response. “You guys are some of my closest friends too. It’ll be a lot of fun.”

“So we’re all on the same page. Good.” Namjoon smiles as he continues to eat.

It was just like that where the lines drawn between the disappeared. Yoongi began to make more excuses to spend more time with her — arguing that he needed to know the proper tone of some words, the contexts that they were used in, and if it sounded feasible to mix them in with his Korean raps. Of course this could have been something he would have spoken to Namjoon about, but it felt more natural to go to YN with these word of questions. He liked the idea of being able to depend on her. It had been so long since Yoongi went to anyone outside of his six best friends.

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi had asked after requesting YN to come to his studio since he barely had time for a session that day. His English lessons were growing few and far between as the sudden inspiration to finish his mixtape surrounded him like a whirlwind. He still wanted to see her, even if he could not come up with any conversation. Just being around her calmed down his anxieties the bubbled up between tour, the new album, and the several press tours they would have for being able to headline Wembley.

YN looks away from the Chicago Bulls Jersey framed on the wall to him. She had heard from her friend, Ryuyeon, informed that only the producers and BTS members were allowed to be in his studio. The fact that she could be there made her swallow ab it harder. Surely it was not all in her head, right? He must have felt the same thudding in her chest whenever he walked passed. It did not matter how many careless trainees she had taught that day — if she could see a glimpse of Yoongi, her entire day was made.

“What do you want to ask me?” YN asks with soft eyes.

Yoongi bites his lip as he stands up and sits down on the couch beside her. He falls a bit silent, unsure of what to say despite practicing this so many times in his head. He licks his lips slowly as he looks at her. Once their eyes meet, he immediately falls silent in an instant. It was as though Yoongi was under a trance for her. He knew it wasn’t love — he knew those type of emotions took time.. but why was he on the brink?

“Yoongi?” YN repeats with a tilt of her head. She had known Yoongi for over eight months now, but why had she never seen this side of him? He never sputtered or showed weakness… so what was he doing this all in front of her?

Yoongi never responds to her words. He responds to her with actions as his hand cups the underside of her jaw and closes the distance between them. He feels shy when he kisses her - trying not to think about how her lips taste like raspberries and it makes the deepest part of his stomach flip into a triple somersault. He’s never been this bold ever.. but it feels right with YN. His left hand finds chase on her hip to pull her closer to him.

Their kiss is electric and it makes it hard to pull the two of them apart when they are constructed like two magnets of opposite polar charge. He never wants to be separated from her the she feels how hard his heart thuds against his rib cage and he struggles to restrain himself. A gem she was — and for a moment when his lips are pressed against hers and he pulls her on top of him — he thinks that this is what he wants. He wants her.

Only after their lips are slightly bruised from kissing and they both need a breath, YN’s cheeks turn a deeper scarlet. “That was incredible.”

“It was..” Yoongi whispers as his fingers entangle into her hair. “I’ve been thinking of that since the first time that I met you.”

“I was thinking the same..” YN whispers as her cheeks tint a deeper shade of red from his confession. “I.. I actually really like you, Yoongi. I have for months and wanted to say something—“

“I understand why you waited. I was stubborn too.” Yoongi cuts her off with a small smile. His eyes trail over the apple of her cheek and the warmness of her brown eyes. It drives him up a while to know that he has kissed her. “So if I may… can I ask you to be my girlfriend?” He tilts is head slightly to look up at her.

“Of course!” YN chirps with a flutter in her stomach. “I waited so long to hear you ask that.. really…. I just worry about the company and what they’ll say.. I. I don’t want to be hidden, Yoongi.”

“We will figure it out. I will talk to them. Believe me.” Yoongi takes her hand and kisses the back of it gingerly. “I’m happy you’re my girlfriend…” He chuckles softly as he notices the smile on her lips. He was glad he could finally have the boys stop teasing him for not making a move. “I’m just glad to know that you’re not allergic to me.”

・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

#min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts x reader #bts scenarios #yoongi scenario #yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst

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maissei · 3 years

Text

haikyuu boys + s/o doing this on tiktok

iwaizumi hajime + kenma kozume + suna rintaro x gender neutral reader

anonymous ask :: hello! can i request iwaizumi and anyone else you want reacting to you doing something like this

mai's note :: anon anon anon! i absolutely loved this request!! thanks for requesting!! <33

warnings :: a lil bit of crack, fluffiness since some of them are very protective!!

iwaizumi hajime

he was just sitting on the bed, flipping through one of his books before he heard wrapping paper crunch in the living room. trudging to see you filming a tiktok, wrapping paper covering your chest and your hips and his eyebrows raised. "ehem, what are you doing?" you squeaked and tapped pause on your phone. "haji! i was just filming a tiktok—" "yes, i can see that. i meant to ask, what are you wearing?"

you looked down at the wrapping paper then back at him, "oh this? i can just remove it, if you want—" "you look fine" he grumbled, "continue making that tiktok of yours." he added before sitting on the couch, side-eyeing you before he just decided to stand up and pull it apart, you stumbling to the floor before iwaizumi chuckled, "film something else, too much skin-showing." and he stopped the recording before making you wear his over-sized sweat-shirt.

kenma kozume

he just stared, feline-like eyes narrowed. his grip on his red and blue nintendo switch tight. you could hear him muttering and grumbling, he tried to focus on his mario kart game but the sight of you wearing that? he wants you to wear his hoodie, what the hell were you even doing this for? you looked at him and smiled, "what's up kozu? been grumbling like that all the time."

"you should just film me instead, i could wear that for you. might get more views, i'm very popular." he huffed, standing up and checking the red and green paper around your body, "yeah you are, but are you serious kenma?" you giggled and you watched him rip up the paper around you and put it on himself, your laughing ringing around the living room as he filmed himself, giving you the phone right after before checking the video, "huh, i look really good."

suna rintaro

he was watching some gossip channel on youtube before he sees you prep a phone holder, holding his laughter when he sees you attach some paper around yourself and trying to dance, his droopy eyes flashing to the phone, a quick grin on his face before he stand up, your head turning quickly to give him a silent glare, intended for him to get the message, "don't do anything, i'm filming."

but he just pushes you out of the way, starting to dance wildly in front of the camera. your mouth agape as you watched him, weirdly flexible and glancing at you, giving you a quick smug grin. taking the phone and hugging you tightly, "you're not gonna film anything, i'm prettier than you. ooh, probably better at dancing too."

@maissei

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

since i am obsessed <33333 with the sternclay fill you did for this prompt, can you do 57 with indruck nsfw?

Here it is! Note: this mentions mating talk.

57: we’re fighting over the last box of half-off valentine’s day chocolate and end up in a “who has it worse” battle

This is it. Duck’s new low. Standing under the high ceilings of Wal-Mart at two in the morning, trying to decide if his dignity can take the hit of someone seeing him scale the shelves to grab the lone leftover bag of valentine’s candy.

Fuck it, those are Ghiradeli caramel squares, he deserves them after today.

Just as he’s choosing his foothold, a large, feathery shape rounds the corner. It figures that the one other customer in the store would need to be in the exact same place as him. He’ll just wait the mothman out.

Duck’s mostly used to seeing random monsters around town; back in the fifties, an interstellar gate opened up in Kepler, making it the home of a small population of cryptids know as Sylphs. When he was younger, he hated the fact he grew up in such a weird-ass place, but these days his brain barely differentiates them from the other Keplerites. They come to the national forest where he works, order their dinners in line ahead of him and, apparently, come to big box stores in the dead of night.

“Ah, excellent.” The mothman chirps, grabbing the bag of caramel squares from the top shelf.

“Hey!”

The antenna-topped head swivels, owl-like, and red eyes regard him with surprise, “Yes? Oh, apologies” he tucks his wings in “I didn’t mean to block your way.

“That ain’t it. I was gonna buy that.” He points at the bag.

The creature cocks his head, “But it was still on the shelf.”

“Yeah, because we ain’t all seven feet tall. I was about to grab it.”

“It’s not my fault you’re short.”

Duck bites back an unkind retort, sighs, “will you just give me the damn bag?”

“Absolutely not. I’ve had a very bad day and this is my conciliation prize.”

“You’ve had a bad day? I went out to a singles night for the first time after gettin dumped a month ago. Figured I’d finds someone to take home, but not a single fuckin person OR Sylph was interested. If anyone needs that candy, it’s me.”

A haughty flick of antenna, “I see your disappointing evening and raise you a reminder that it’s been five years to the day that anyone’s wanted to touch you.”

“Please, this town is crawlin with monsterfuckers, you can’t find someone to mess up those pretty feathers, that sounds like a problem with your personality.”

The mothman chirrs, annoyed, “There’s no need for such remarks. Wait, what was that about my feathers?”

Okay, so maybe Duck has jerked off to mothman porn once or twice. Or a few dozen times. He’s not about to admit that here.

“Uh, I, uh, fuck, I don’t not know, fuck-” he grabs for the bag, hoping to distract the Sylph. It works, but the mothman simply raises it above his head. Duck growls, too committed to his bad idea to back down now, and jumps for it.

A toothy grin, “Since we’re speculating, maybe everyone you encountered tonight was simply in search of a taller partner.”

“Fuck you, I’m five six.”

“What was that? It’s rather hard to hear you down there.”

“That’s it fluffball” He jumps again, fingers grazing the bag before it’s passed to the mothman’s upper set of hands. Mid-leap, he can tell he’s going to fall on his fucking knees, and a broken bone is the last thing he needs. His body acts on panic and wraps his arms and legs around the only stable thing.

“What in the world are you doing?” The mothman trills, lower hands catching Duck’s legs so he doesn’t slide straight to the floor.

“Tryin to get what’s mine.”

“This is ridiculous.” He keeps the candy out of reach as Duck tries to climb him.

“I know, but I ain’t about to let you win.”

“Gentlemen.”

They stop grappling and stare at the beleaguered employee at the end of the aisle.

“Please just get out. Don’t even worry about paying for that, it’s like two bucks and that is not worth dealing with you for.”

They both mumble an apology. Then he lunges up, snatching the bag while his opponent is distracted and bolts for the door. He’s without his car, so he’s half a block from the store when a shadow glides overhead and drops down in front of him.

“That was rude.”

“So was insultin me.”

“You started it.” The cryptid looms over him, “and you only have minor ego bruising to blame for your short temper and poor judgement. I spent the entirety of my day arguing on the phone with government officials until one of them finally listened to me about a dam bursting north of here. I, I deserve something nice.” The last part is said more softly, as if he’s not sure he believes it. That slaps Duck back to his usual sensible state.

Duck sighs, reaches for the cryptid’s arm, “Look man, how about we-”

When his hand makes contact the mothman purrs, then flattens his antenna. Duck runs his hand up the smooth chitin, making the purr double in strength.

“I, I apologize. I didn’t even know this could happen with a human so I did not check the futures for it.”

“For what?”

“I, my kind use playfighting and chase as a mating ritual. Which, combined with those gentle touches just now, means my body thinks you’re a potential partner.”

A thrill creeps up his spine, and he pets the Sylph once more just to hear him purr, “So, uh, what should I do?”

“I suggest you take the candy and” he shudders, “walk home, and we both pretend this never happened.”

“What happens if I run?” Duck sets his hand on the down of the cryptids chest, shivering as it sinks into the fluff.

The mothman looks at him, confusion warring with desire on his face, “I chase you. And since I foresee you asking, if I catch you I will take you then and there unless you tell me not to.”

“Got it.” Duck steps back, smiles when the cryptid tries to follow his touch and then catches himself. He could just walk home and wolf down his hard-won candy. But they’re right by his shortcut through the forest to his house and no one has wanted to chase him for months…

He takes off into the trees.

For the first few yards there’s no sound but crunching leaves and his breathing. Then soft, determined wing-beats glide through the treetops. The canopy is thick here and no one but him knows this path, so he likes his odds of making it home. He even knows where the most troublesome roots are so he won’t trip and lose ground.

Duck’s nearly home when nature betrays him; a deer springs across his path, startling him and sending him to the ground. He scrambles up, listening for signs of the Sylph’s location, but the wingbeats are gone. Did he give up? Is he lying in wait up ahead? Did Duck actually lose him?

The questions spin through his mind as he scans the treetops. There’s nothing, only shadows and bark.

“You know” a voice lilts, coiling around him, “I’d think someone who worked in the woods would know many moths excel at camouflage.”

Red eyes appear in the branches to his right. He gets out a single “fuck” before the mothman swoops down and knocks him into the leaf litter. The candy hits the dirt a few feet away as he’s roughly rolled onto his stomach.

“Holy fuck.” He pants as clawed hands undo his pants and push his shirt up his back, “holy fuUUUuuck, oh christ that’s good.” He rests his head on his forearms as the mothman drags his tongue up his back again.

“Mmmmm, what a lovely little mate I’ve caught.” One set of hands pulls his pants and boxers to his knees while the other caresses his ass, “all dressed up too. I cannot imagine why others passed you up tonight but I am glad they did. Hmmm” claws prick his inner thighs as they’re pushed as wide as they’ll go, “you’re a bit aroused already-”

“Wonder why.” He teases.

“-but I ought to make sure you’re ready to take my cock.” A long, flexible tongue traces circles on his folds. He groans, pushes his hips back in hopes of getting more. The Sylph grants his wish with a purr, thrusting his tongue in hungrily. Duck moans, then snickers into his arms.

“‘At’s ‘o ‘unny?”

“F-feathers, ticklish.” Is what he manages to get out before the tongue curls and finds his G-spot, making it impossible to focus on anything but the being behind him. But the Sylph only gives him a minute of delicious sensation before pulling back.

“There, now you’re ready. I, ah, I suggest you hold on.”

“To whatAHFUCK, fuck, jesusfuckingchrist” his fingers dig into the earth and dead twigs scrape his knees as the Sylph grips his hips and shoves in all at once. The upper set of hands drops to either side of his head as the cryptid hunches over him, snapping his hips while sharp trills and chirps fill the air.

“That’s it sweet one, goodness, years without a partner and the first warm hole I can catch is a tight one, I, I do so love fucking humans for that reason alone, but you, you feel exquisite, ohyes, yesyesyes” he chirrs triumphantly and Duck moans; he’s never been able to feel a partner cum like this. When he glances down his torso, he’s surprised to see the droplets shimmering in the moonlight as they drip down his thighs.

“That was fuckin incredibleAH!” He’s flipped onto his back, the mothmans body blocking out the sky.

“Did you think we were done?” He’s grinning again, the expression as charming as the starlight on his feathers.

“Kinda? Not, uh, not that I mind if you wanna go again.”

“I do.” The cryptid lifts his legs, removing his shoes and clothes as he adds, “again, and again, and again. After all, look how much it likes you” He adjusts so Duck can see his dick. It’s not the size that startles him; it’s the series of ridges on it and the fact that it’s fucking pulsing like it’s got a mind of it’s own.

Duck spreads his legs, “Only it likes me?”

“I’m beginning to share it’s opinion” The tip presses in and the purring intensifies, “though I must say you’ll need to be far more polite and submissive a mate to make up for your--ohgoodness--earlier behavior.”

“Yeah?” Duck smirks, dragging his hands up the soft feathers of his chest, then glides them out to stroke his inner wing “how’s that for a start?”

The Sylph’s chirrs change, growing needier the more Duck pets him, “So very good. No, no one has touched my wings in years.”

Duck studies their sheen, the little speckles of grey and white, and digs his fingers deeper, “Damn shame.”

A soft trill accompanied by three demanding thrusts and then cum spills into him once more.

“Heh, you like when I compliment your feathers? Ohfuckyes” He moans as the Sylph starts thrusting, slower than before but made far more obscene by the sound of his cum being fucked back into Duck’s body.

“I, I do.” He drops his forehead to rest above the top of Duck’s head, “it’s been so long. As you said, this town is full of people who would gladly take a werewolf to bed but have...reservations about one such as me.”

“Their loss” Duck nuzzles the ruff of feathers around the Sylphs neck, runs his hands greedily along his wings, “these alone are so fuckin gorgeous there oughta be a line of folks beggin for the chance to mess ‘em up while they ride you.”

The mothman whimpers, chirps when Duck leans sideways to trail kisses along his right wing. His hips are moving lazily in time with the roll of Duck’s own and he sighs with every thrust, as if Duck is his favorite place to be.

“Got some broken feathers.” He murmurs.

“A peril of fast flights and living alone. It’s better if someone else pulls them free and grooms them for you.”

“I could do that.”

A hungry moan as the mothman noses his hair, “You’re making me wish I hadn’t caught you so soon; had we played longer, my ovipositor would have joined the fun, and you’re so wonderful a mate I ought to lay in you.”

“Jesusfuck” Duck fists his hands into his chest feathers, bucking his hips.

“Oh, do you like that? The thought of being a handsome little hole for me to stuff my eggs in?”

“Yes, holy fuck yes.”

The thrusts turn demanding, “Just one more way in which you’re perfect. You’re strong, you’ve a lovely shape” one hand runs possessively across Duck’s belly and chest, “and it only takes a little bit of vigorous fucking to make you well-behaved and willing to be properly mated.”

“Fuck, fuckin christ that’s goodOH, ohfuckrightthere” one of the ridges is catching his dick, pushing him towards orgasm, “please don’t stop, don’t you dare fuckin stop-”

“Never” it comes out in a growl, “I want to see you be a good little human and cum on my cock while I fill you up. Oh yes, yes” he smiles down at him, “it seems you’re about to oblige meAHhnnnn, goodness you tighten so nicely when you finish” he speeds up, jostling Duck as his climax renders him limp, “yes, yes sweet one hold out just a moment, nnnf, oh, ohyes” He spills into him, Duck’s body unable to contain it all and sending it running down the cryptid’s shaft and the humans thighs. Then the mothman eases out with a low chirp and sits back on his heels.

Duck flops his arms about until he finds plastic, pulling the bag of candy to him as he sits up. He yanks it open, undoes the foil, and freezes. The cryptid isn’t looking at him, isn’t making any noise. He’s just hunched forward, antenna flattening.

“You okay?” Duck finishes freeing the chocolate square.

“Yes” there’s a sniff, “yes I’ll be fine.”

“That ain’t quite what I asked.” He holds the candy out. Antenna twitch, but the mothman keeps his head down.

“I apologize, I, I meant to wait until you left but I, I got overwhelmed. You were so sweet, you let me do all that and I, I don’t even know your name.”

“That’s an easy fix. I’m Duck. It’s a nickname.”

The cryptid finally looks up, takes the offered treat between his claws, “I’m Indrid.” He pops the candy in his mouth and chews miserably.

Duck pulls his boxers on to avoid getting any more pine needle pokes on his ass, then scoots closer, “So, uh, Indrid. Is there somethin special we need for groomin your wings? My place makes the most sense as a next stop, but if there’s a special tool might be better to go to yours.”

Indrid blinks, cocks his head, “You...you want to groom them? I, I thought that was just dirty talk.”

“Can be. But I was serious; now that I got a taste of those wings, I wanna touch ‘em whenever you’ll let me.”

“This is the least likely timeline.” Indrid whispers to himself

“What’d I do in the other ones?”

“Thanked me for a good time and left.”

“See, I thought about that” Duck tentatively moves forward, smiles when Indrid allows him into his lap to stroke his face, “but then I thought, ‘this fella’s fuckin mind blowin in bed, but I wanna get to know what he’s like the rest of the time. Can’t do that if I up and leave.” He offers another chocolate. Indrid eats it out of his hand, then wraps his wings around him.

“I, ah, there’s a special oil for my feathers.”

“Should we go get it?”

“We could. Or” he smiles, hopeful, “we could go to my place tomorrow morning. After we rest at your home and you let me buy you breakfast.”

Duck kisses his fuzzy cheek, “Yeah, let’s do that.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #trans duck newton #meet ugly #terato

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blueprint-han · 4 years

Text

autumn and honeysuckle.

pairing: han x (fem) reader.

genre: marriage au ; fluff. (can you see how enamored I am for marriage aus-)

⇥ warnings: none, just an autumn date with hannie 🥺 slight kissing here and there but not suggestive at all.

wc: 1.06 K (why do i never write blurbs ; - ;)

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not aim to represent the activities of the real Han Jisung, nor does it represent JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

type: drabble.

network tag: @stayverse @districtninewriters @inkidz + @sunoo-luvs

part of: the url drabble game; requested by @hanniiesuckle17 (requests for this are closed now!)

credit: this idea was inspired by this prompt list! 🥰

↯ note: I was literally so dumb™ I didn’t know honeysuckle was a fucking plant. 😭 I thought it was a part of a beehive or something how stupid of me I’ll go boo at myself. 😔 But !!!!! Hope I could fulfill my duty to the queen herself, and thank you for requesting! Happy reading. <3 Also where I live we don’t have autumn as a season, so please be mindful that this is completely based on my rusty knowledge from movies. ⇥ dawn.☀️

Autumn, in all honesty, was one of your favorite seasons. The fresh smell of maple and pinecone wafting through the air, drinking spiced lattes and munching on apple pie, drowning in oversized sweaters — admittedly, it was all too joyous for you. Anticipation ran through you once the month of September rolled around, and dried, orange leaves adorned the roads, crunching under your feet when you strolled around.

And your husband loved it all too equally. After all, you’d met Jisung in the lovely season of autumn. If you were to look back, you had no idea that the boy curled up under a tree with a book in his hand and headphones covering his ears would end up being your lover — but hey, you weren’t complaining. If anything, autumn held more significance because of that.

And autumn wreaths were a timely tradition for you. You admittedly loved decorating your house with pretty ornaments when any occasion rolled by — be it thanksgiving, Halloween, or Christmas. and decorating the house often lead to “expeditions” — which really meant just you and Jisung walking hand in hand through a park, stealing occasional kisses and giggles from each other.

So, when you snuck out of Jisung’s embrace (despite his infinite whines and protests), threw him a shirt to wear and pulled him along with you to the park, Jisung wasn’t surprised in the slightest. Your husband could do nothing but scramble behind you, watching you chatter away about how you’d planned to design the autumn wreaths with a loving gaze. You looked so pretty under the rustic orange of the park — the maple trees and pine cones were pretty, but you underneath them were incomparable.

The thing that you found the most adorable was that Jisung brought his trusty pillow along with him and almost fell asleep on your shoulder as you were searching for a good spot to make the wreath because according to him, you’d quote unquote “disturbed his sleep by not allowing him his fair dose of cuddles.” So clingy, Jisung was so clingy. But you would be lying if you said that you didn’t love it when Jisung got clingy.

“Okay, you go collect the flowers— Jisung, gooo!” You giggled when your husband pulled you into his embrace. You’d found a spot under a tall, fairly shady tree and were about to search for flowers and dried leaves— if your husband hadn’t immediately pulled you into his embrace and nuzzled into your neck, murmuring something incoherently that kinda sounded like “But this is so comfy I don’t wanna leave.”

“One second, I need to have my daily dose of wifey Y/N before I leave her.” Jisung whined, almost sleepily.

“Oh gosh,” You scoffed playfully. “You’re not leaving me you oaf! Go!” Jisung pulled away but didn’t release his hold on you, pouting like an absolute child as he looked at you with sleepy eyes. “No.”

You knew what he wanted — you knew him like the back of your own hand, after all. If there was one thing that got Jisung to fly on top of the clouds, you were the one who knew it. Being married to him for three years had made you learn enough about him,t he same vice versa.

And so, you leaned in, stealing a tiny kiss from him before letting him linger over your lips for a second.

“Now go!!”

You quickly pushed Jisung with a hearty laugh before spreading a sheet onto the leafy floor of the park relishing the way the leaves crunched under each step. Taking out the flexible yet sturdy wires you’d neatly rolled up to shape a wreath, you started picking out leaves from around you, using golden rope to tie it all together. You’d also brought along some beads to decorate it with along with tiny maple syrup bottle shaped charms, but the wreath somehow seemed to be devoid of something you couldn’t quite place.

It had been about ten minutes later that Jisung returned, his hair mussed up because he’d used his beanie to carry the flowers he’d picked from what seemed like the other side of the garden. You almost cooed over how cute he looked — disheveled hair, sleepy eyes, pouty lips and his caramel skin almost complimenting the orangey tone surrounding him.

“What did you bring?” You sat on your knees as Jisung sat cross legged beside you, placing the beanie in front of you both before picking out a single flower from the bunch. The flower he held didn’t have any vibrant colored petals, but it exuded an immense fragrance, once that captivated you in an instant.

A little smile creaked as your husband’s lips as he said. “A hanniesuckle.” He laid special stress on the first part.

You narrowed your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to prevent yourself from laughing (or groaning) at the obvious pun he’d tried to intend. Staying silent. Jisung started to fumble for an explanation.

“Get it? Because Hannie and honeysuckle makes-”

You decided to free him from the embarrassment of having to explain the stupidly adorable pun he’d just made, leaning in to place a gentle kiss over the tip of his nose, cupping his cheeks and kissing his lips soon after. Jisung sighed, pecking you once, twice, thrice before pulling away to look at you, and the blush that had made an appearance on his cheeks made you melt over and over again — you couldn’t quite get over how cute your husband was.

“I get it, and you need to stop being so cute, ‘hanniesuckle’“ You used air quotations at the pun. “You’re dangerous for my heart.” Huffing, you pinched his cheeks where he’s blushed like the sunset.

“Hey, you know you signed up for it when you said yes.” Your husband intertwined your fingers with his own, placing a peck on the back of your hand.

“Oh that wasn’t a complaint, Mr. Han. Now you wanna help me knit these ‘hanniesuckles’ into the wreath?”

Jisung grew flustered yet again, mumbling a small “Of course, Mrs. Han” before he started handing you the flowers, gazing at your concentrated eyes as you stitched the fragrant flowers them in.

Neither to say, the wreath looked very pretty when you hung it on the front door, but then again — you were incomparable.

↯ note: 🕯️ ignore me this is just a small prayer that tumblr doesn’t make me battle the tags yet again 🕯️ may the tumblr gods be in my favor atleast this once ;-; 🕯️ ⇥ dawn.☀️

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red1culous · 4 years

Text

Sweat part 1

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.

One of the things you hated about working with the Avengers was how insanely fit everyone was. You wouldn’t exactly call yourself a shapeless potato but you were nowhere as sculpted or as svelte as your other team members.

You had just joined the band of heroes two months ago and were working under Maria Hill as a Shield agent. She had taken the time to show you around the place because you were one of the few applicants Fury himself recommended. Being new to the team you were eager to impress.

Maria herself was of slight build but you knew she was tough having one day crashed into her after turning a blind corner. Her elbow caught the side of your face as you both collided and it left you with a nasty shiner that lasted a week.

So you made it a point to become fitter and stronger. That meant visits to the gym. Your anxiety however got the better of you and visiting the gym when everyone else was there was certainly out of the question. So you purposely set your alarm for 2 hours earlier so you could get a full workout before anyone else was even awake.

The first time you entered the gym was daunting. All those big machines seemingly mocking your puny existence. You pushed past the fear and soon you were brave enough to play your music loud from your phone speakers and you started to relax a little and enjoy your early morning sessions more.

Then something you never could have dreamed of happened turning your world upside down.

After a 10 minute cardio warm up you headed to the chest press machine. You were feeling good this morning. Stretching and limbering up a little your playlist started on a new song, one that you particularly liked. It had all the right beats in all the right places. You soon got lost in the music and started to do a little dance on the spot as you stretched your arms and legs out . You were so caught up in the music you almost screamed when you felt a gentle tap tap tap on your shoulder. Turning around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash you were stunned by the sight in front of you.

Natasha Romanoff.

WTF.

“Hi. I’m Natasha. You ok?” she cocks her head concerned at your dazed expression.

“Hi! Sorry I just didn’t think there’d be anyone here. I’m Y/N” you hoped she hadn’t heard the enormous swallow you just did with how dry your throat suddenly became.

“Yea I know. Fury has said some impressive things about you. And that man says nothing about anyone so that’s a huge compliment” she smiled tying up her hair into a neat ponytail. Your eyes were inexplicably drawn to her biceps as they flexed and bunched up at the simple action.

“Uh ok” was all you could muster shaking your head trying to clear your mind.

“Sorry, do you mind if we share the gym? I promise to stay on that side” she points to the other end of the gym and you instantly felt like a monster.

“What no! No don’t do that. Sorry I just wasn’t expecting anyone here so early. Plus I’m not used to doing this whole gym thing” you ducked your head feeling a blush blooming across your chest and rising to your face.

“Oh you really don’t look like you even need the gym” she counters.

Wait. Was that a compliment?

She continues, “how about we spot for each other? I haven’t trained with another girl in ages. It’ll be nice since this place is usually a playground for the boys and their dick measuring contests”

And that’s how you found yourself working out with Natasha Romanoff, or Nat as she insisted you call her. This was insane. What was even more insane was the outfit she had on. She was wearing a black tank top that ended just under her breasts exposing her abs. All the abs. The way it twitched with every movement she made was even more distracting than her leg and calve muscles that were clearly visible under the ridiculously tight spandex pants she wore. If you knew you would be partnering with her you would’ve probably not worn your moth eaten college t-shirt and 100 year old track pants.

Right this moment she was stood in front of the chest press machine counting your sets. She was making light conversation and whenever you struggled she would assist slightly. Her words of encouragement did help a little. You were actually having fun.

“I like that you’re always smiling when you’re working out” she says in between counting you to 10.

“Nat, this isn’t me smiling” you pant out, “this is me gritting my teeth holding back my swear words” this got her laughing which caused you to laugh and drop the weights unable to hold them up yourself.

“Ok 10 more smartass let’s go” she straightens up wagging a finger at you.

If working out with the Black Widow was stressful, not knowing where to look with her standing right in front of you was worse.

Should you stare at her abs? No that’s awkward.

Stare at her face? Nope, worse idea ever.

Stare at the floor at her feet. Yes that might work.

“Up up! Keep your head and eyes up so your posture is straight” she tuts reaching for your chin and pushing it up.

Well that idea went to hell fast. Next up was the bench press machine.

She excitedly says she wants to go first and of course you’re not going to argue. Your arms were still burning from the 50 reps she had you do. So now you’re stood to her right looking everywhere except where she has lay down. Suddenly you don’t know what you’re supposed to do with your arms.

These appendages are they meant to hang loosely by your side?

Should I hug myself?

“Earth to Y/N. Hey quit dreaming and help me out here partner” she breaks you out of your reverie.

Did you think this was not going to get any more awkward? Seemed like the world was adamant on proving you wrong today.

Natasha has you standing with one leg on either side of her torso as she effortlessly lifts and lowers the bar. You’re assisting but you think she could do this without you and probably just as well with one arm. Still you can’t complain. When else would you ever find yourself in this position with Natasha Romanoff.

“Your turn” she cheerily says and she starts to get up. Sensing your hesitation she gently pushes you onto the machine taking the position you occupied only minutes ago.

“You didn’t even break a sweat, Nat” you pout.

“You’ll be fine I’ll help” she says more confident of your abilities than you are.

“I’ll break my neck more like. You better not let this…oooof” you grunt as you feel the full weight of the bar unable to finish your sentence.

“Ok trust me I’ll hold it too” she shimmies further up your torso and bends slightly so she can support more of the bar with you. This has her close to your face and somehow the bar feels heavier than before.

She went easy on you and let you off at 30 reps instead of 50 because towards the end of the count she was lifting more than you were. Your arms truly felt like jelly. Working out with Natasha would be the death of you no doubt.

“What do you want to do next rookie?” she says still looking the way she did when she walked into the gym that morning. You were pretty sure you looked like you had just walked to the moon and back.

“Is dying an option?” you say as you lay on the floor with a towel over your face having just completed a set of leg raises, push ups, crunches and Russian twists.

“How about some stretches? It’ll help with the aches” she lifts a corner of the towel covering your face and peeks at you as she smiles.

So now you are prone on the floor and the Black Widow is practically on top of you stretching out your hamstrings, quads and glutes.

“HOW IS THIS RELAXING!?” you’re practically writhing under her hands, “I FEEL LIKE SOMETHING IS GOING TO SNAP”

“It is relaxing! You’ll thank me tomorrow” she’s smirking at your childish antics. Honestly your idea of stretching was incense, low lighting and soft music. This felt worse than working out.

“Ok let’s swap you big baby” she coos.

“Urgh thank god I was about to pass out already” you jump to your feet and give her space to lie down.

“Uh you’re going to have to help me I don’t know what to do” suddenly feel the awkwardness return as you watch her laying on the floor.

“Ok squat here and put one hand here” she pulls you down in between her legs and places one of your hands on her upper left thigh, “now hold this down and press this leg up” she guides you so her right leg is resting on your shoulder.

“Uh…like this?” you asked blushing again. Why does this feel so intimate?

“Yea but push harder” she says as she lays back down on the mat, “harder Y/N I’m not going to break” it sounded like a command now.

“This is a weird angle are you sure …” she interrupts you by tugging roughly on your round collar so that now your face is inches from hers, “I did ballet I’m flexible don’t worry I like the deep stretch” she’s smirking again still holding onto your collar.

“R-right I’ll be sure to remember that” you whisper stutter your response. You’re starting to think she’s doing this on purpose.

You’re thinking back to all the touches. A hand on your upper arm. Her squeezing your shoulders a few times when you said they were sore. Her standing behind you with her hands on your waist to show you how to properly execute a squat without causing injury to your back. Or her taking your hand and placing it on her stomach to better illustrate “which muscles will be activated when you’re doing core exercises properly”.

Sure it could be her genuinely trying to help….but what if it was something more.

After a few more positions where you find yourself either laying across her or straddling her, Steve walks into the gym and coughs awkwardly behind the both of you. You jump off of Natasha and stand ramrod straight fidgeting with your fingers.

“Hi Y/N you’re here early. Are you done already?” he asks sweetly.

“Yeah Y/N and I are done here Steve” Natasha answers for you picking up her stuff.

“See you tomorrow morning same time Y/N” she says as she saunters away towards the shower rooms.

“Right yeah tomorrow” is all you manage to get out as she makes her way out of the gym.

“What was that about?” Steve asks you as he starts unpacking his gym bag and grabbing his water bottle and towel.

“I guess I have a new workout buddy” you say smiling ear to ear.

“Hmm…”

“Hmm? Steve don’t leave me with a ‘hmm’”

“No it’s just that Nat hates working out with anyone. I guess she likes you” he says hiding a knowing smile as he fake wipes non-existent sweat off his face.

“Hmm” you say picking up your phone and towel, slinging it over your shoulder and making your way towards the exit.

“Hey, now what’s that supposed to mean Y/N?” Steve calls to you.

“Nothing Steve” you continue with a bounce in your step and a smile on your face, “means nothing at all”.

Tagging: @natasharomanoffismywife

#redfic #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #sweat

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