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#my 2 reasons for giving it to him are: its the same color as the sxf volume bgs. and. i really liked it so
1alchemistart · 3 months
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sillies!!
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periwinkla · 1 month
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Pokéattorney AU sketches! Following up on my pokémon AU post from earlier: https://periwinkla.tumblr.com/post/745674186257727488/au-where-everything-is-the-same-but-all-animals 1. Phoenix has a Rowlet and Miles a Ralts - I love the idea of Phoenix thinking about how adorable it is that Rowlet and Miles match. Also I imagined Gregory giving Miles a Ralts when he was little and now I'm sad. 2. Of course, that's Iris in the 2nd pic. I imagine Phoenix going on and on about his reason for studying law (I mean it would only make sense that he told her - and maybe that's the reason he's so secretive about basically everything after Dahlia's betrayal). So it just made sense to give him Goomy! I just had to give him a Dragon type but also Goomy is perfect for him because he goes from being a weakling to a pretty strong mon (at least in lore). Also from a Pokédex entry about Goodra: 'It loathes solitude and is extremely clingy—it will fume and run riot if those dearest to it ever leave its side.' So yeah, pretty apt I think. Iris has a white Flabebé btw.
3. I was indecisive about the Phoenix + Decidueye combo but drawing them out I think it really, really fits him. Btw the reason it's shiny is just because of the color matching better. 4. I think Gardevoir fits Miles the best but I also want to give him a Kingambit. Have them all drink tea in his office. imagine a Kingambit leisurely drinking tea. I also imagine little Franziska dancing around with a Kirlia when they were younger. And now I'm sad again. I want to draw more about this - definitely some Trucy + Hoopa and Kay + Greninja, and way more Miles!
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shegatsby · 1 month
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Love Thy Enemy
Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.
A/N; HI!!! Its been a long time since I wrote a series but i cannot resist Feyd. English isn''t my first language so go easy on me. There will be smut in the future chapters. TAG LIST IS OPEN!!!!!! (Reader has a lover and Feyd's going to find out lol 😉😉😉)
Warnings; None. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.
Words; 1.520K
Chapter 2
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Chapter One – ‘’Meeting in flesh and blood’’
‘’Right behind you!’’ Irulan screamed as she was riding her horse to match Y/N’s. Y/N was a skilled rider, the wind in her long hair, she laughed at Irulan’s attempt of winning the race and focused on the finish line. Planet Kaitian which was the second Capital of the Corrino Empire had so many opportunities for Padishah Emperor Shaddam’s daughter Irulan and his beloved Y/N. The planet had forests, lakes and rivers so Y/N didn’t miss much of her home planet Caladan, she sometimes tossed and turned in her bed thinking of her family members but she was taken to Kaitain years ago. Irulan and Y/N were the same age and when Shaddam couldn’t have more children he asked Duke Leto Atreides to bring his first born daughter to be sisters with Irulan. Leto tried to find so many ways to refuse Padishah Emperor yet he was the ultimate power in the entire galaxy and Leto had no choice but to give his daughter Y/N. She was one years old when the arrangements were made. She could see her family at political events or celebrations, she had been in Caladan few times yet she felt stranger to the planet and she felt stranger to Kaitain as well. She has always wondered if, by any chance one day she would feel the sensation of ‘’being at home’’ nowhere and no one was her home. Maybe this was her fate.
When she finished the race her horse calmed down, Irulan followed behind. ‘’I swear you’re cheating and I am going to find out.’’ She was joking of course, Irulan and Y/N had a close relationship yet Y/N never forgot that she was a princess and there for needed to be treated more cautiously than the other lords and ladies of the galaxy. Together they hopped off of their horses, ‘’Walk with me.’’ Irulan’s  voice was soft yet direct. Her short blonde hair got messy, hem of her white long dress covered in mud, she was carefree when she was with Y/N.
Y/N had the color of her house Atreides. Green. Her green dress felt so light, they were walking on the grass for few minutes in silence., Y/N knew that Irulan wanted to say something.
Palace’s gardens were evergreen, gardeners achieved perfection. Gardens smelled of flowers at any time of the year. Irulan stopped in her tracks, they turned to soak in the scenery before their eyes, the entire planet was under their feet. Servants’ chatters could be heard, no matter what they were never alone. ‘’Soon my father will throw a ball for me.’’ She looked distant, Padishah Emperor Shaddam never had parties without a solid reason, it must be political. Before Y/N could ask Irulan explained simply, ‘’I will meet the man I have to marry.’’ Y/N knew one day that she had to marry someone in order to protect the power they had over the galaxy but she never thought the date would come this quick. Y/N had already a lover, only Irulan knew because he was from a lower house. She had a childish hope that one day she would marry him.
Irulan laughed in sarcasm, ‘’How I wish to be you, sister!’’ it was obvious that Irulan dreaded the situation.
There were no arrangements for Y/N and she was free for a long time or so she thought.
‘’I trust in Emperor’s decision. He won’t wed you to someone unworthy.’’ She tried to encourage her dear friend but Irulan stood there like a stone. ‘’Let’s head back.’’ Y/N said. A hollow silence followed them to the dining hall. Emperor couldn’t attend because he was dealing with preparations of the ball. The white marble fire place was lit and orange colors danced in the room, the dining hall was adorned with lavish furniture and a long wooden table. The wood came from Giedi Prime, it was called Pilingitam.
 Irulan seemed troubled, ‘’What’s on your mind sister?’’ Y/N asked. She was concerned for her, if she knew that she had to be concerned for herself…
She watched Irulan’s palm slithering on the Pilingitam table,’’ Majority of the houses will be at the ball,’’ she looked up to meet Y/N’s curious eyes, ‘’The Harkonnens will be too.’’ Y/N’s blood ran cold, she remembered the times where Emperor used to take them to Giedi Prime for political reasons. They had to sit and watch the games in the black and white arena. Gladiators killing each other…
She remembered a boy with pure blue eyes and full lips, ‘’I will fight there too when I’m old enogh.’’ He was sitting next to Y/N in his black outfit. He closed the tiny gap between him and Y/N, and he spoke quietly, ‘’Will you come and watch me?’’ he was speaking as if killing was a normal act. His knee touching Y/N’s, she remembered distinctly that the boy interlaced his little finger with hers. They were ten and yet Y/N could see Baron Vladimir’s influence on his poor nephew.
Y/N didn’t need to go back in her memories to detest the Harkonnens. Their families were in and out of war for centuries. Thankfully for a long time peace was kept. ‘’I will manage.’’ She insured Irulan with a genuine smile yet it wasn’t enough. Y/N brushed it off, after dinner she had mental training anyways.
Until the day of the ball she corresponded with her lover, Pyramus
He was a tall man with dark curls and jet black eyes. His beard always tickled her face.
She spent her days training and accompanying Irulan. Irulan grew restless as the they approached.
One by one the ships started to arrive, one could look up to the busy blue sky and see. Y/N’s family arrived early to see her and spend time with her. Lady Jessica, her mother, immediately questioned her about Y/N’s Bene Gesserit training, Duke Leto was happy to see her daughter once again. Paul, her one year younger brother gave her a tight hug.
They were united once more, she escorted them to their quarters in the palace and retrieved to get ready for the event. She wore a green dress with emeralds on her chest and waist, her maid braided her hair in Atreides style. She also wore an emerald tiara. Paul Atreides knocked on her door to escort her to the ball room, he looked sharp in his dark green suit. ‘’You seem nervous.’’ He questioned, -Y/N knew that her mother was teaching Bene Gesserit ways to her brother,- yes she was nervous because she was going to be reunited with her lover. ‘’Too many people.’’ She responded. Servants were running with food and wine on the corridors, music could be heard from a distance. Members of houses were having conversations about spice, politics, etc.
The doors of the room were open, inside was lit by the yellow warm lights coming from glowglobes, guests laughing and drinking. Tallest member was Baron Vladimir due to hanging in the air, eating like a mad man but she ignored him.
Her eyes searching for her lover, so blind to an outsider who got her under his radar.
Paul and Y/N walked to the table of their house, ‘’You look lovely my girl.’’ Duke Leto kissed her daughter’s forehead, it didn’t go unnoticed by a certain someone. He was a snake, silently slithering close to his prey.
Padishah Emperor Shaddam and his daughter Princess Irulan were announced and slowly entered the room, everyone bowed. They took their seats and Emperor greeted everyone, thanked them for coming to his feast and he also announced that he would choose the life partner of his daughter among his unmarried male guests. Duke Leto found himself watching his daughter with sad eyes, he wondered if he could see her wedding one day. Would she be happy and fortunate like him? Only time would tell but he prayed quietly.
It was time to dance, couples held each others’ hands and marched to the dance floor, Paul excused himself and went to ask the princess to dance with him. Leto happily asked Jessica to dance with him, Y/N wished that they were officially married but to keep his position as a powerful bachelor, other houses worked for him hoping that one day Duke Leto would marry one of their daughters. It was a well played game of chess on Atreides’s part. Y/N watched Irulan and Paul talking silently and dancing.
Soon Pyramus came with a huge smile. He kissed her hand and winked at her, ‘’My beautiful lady, would you be so kind and accompany me on the dance floor?’’ she tried so hard not to grin, ‘’Of course my lord.’’ He was in his house’s color, yellow. Hand in hand they mingled among the other couples, ‘’I’ve missed you.’’ He whispered. ‘’Not here.’’ She used the voice on him and his mouth closed in a second. Only their eyes talked.
They heard a rough cough and turned to face the intruder, Y/N had no idea that she would meet him in flesh and blood, ‘’Feyd…’’
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dingustripas · 1 year
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I just finished watching Glass Onion for the third time so now you get to hear my rant about it but the details are out of order in the timeline because I’m lazy
(SPOILERS AHEAD)
When Miles lifts the gun off of Duke, we can actually see it pre-Blanc explaining it. The scene where the two hug you can see Miles take the gun and slip it into the back of his jeans.
Following the gun thing, we, the viewers actually SEE the gun itself (pre-Blanc’s explanation) when Miles goes back to the mini bar to put it in the ice bucket. Although it’s kind of hard to see it’s very clearly a gun but our eyes manipulate our minds into thinking it’s a drink because it is indeed a minibar.
They show how Miles places the drink in Dukes hand pre Blanc’s explanation but quickly distract us with the groups dynamic and Birdie.
Phillip is skeptical of Helen when she asks for Blanc, we can assume that he and Blanc have had negative run ins with people from jobs. Also Phillip might be judging Helen’s character, who she is, because he doesn’t want to put Blanc into a situation where he’s in true danger. He’s a detective not Batman.
Birdies mask at the beginning of the movie at the boat is just fucking chains across her face in diamond pattern.
Blanc doesn’t have a gag reflex when the dude in the white suit puts Miles “covid vax” down his throat. (Bc he’s 🏳️‍🌈)
Andi, when she first comes up with the idea for Alpha and starts working with Miles, is wearing dark colors. The dark blue pinstripe suit, her completely black ensamble when we see her at the Glass Onion (the bar). But when she’s challenging Miles she’s wearing both Black and white. At the trial she’s wearing a light almost off white suit. Why is this important? Because what color is Helen wearing when she shuts miles down? White. The color white is, in itself, a color that symbolizes Miles downfall.
Connecting back to the white idea, Whiskey is wearing all white (her bathing suit) when she reveals crucial information about Miles giving her the Taurus necklace for her birthday. (Which leads to his downfall when Blanc puts 2+2 together that he killed Andi)
“Im really bad at dumb things” -Blanc. The reason he didn’t catch on to what was going on with Miles earlier was because Miles is stupid. Miles is so dumb that he fucking befuddled Blanc because Miles is so stupid.
Blanc isn’t uncomfortable about his arousal around Birdie when she put her legs up on him while Miles talks about being ‘Disrupters’. He’s uncomfortable because he’s GAY and has a BOYFRIEND/HUSBAND.
There’s a bunch of owls and small trinkets of birds in Birdies room.
The movie, at the very beginning, with Miles mystery invitation box thing hints at where the envelope is hidden. The fibonacci sequence on the box has the center blocked out in black, where we will later see in the film is red which is where Miles is hiding the envelope. For fucks sake the movie even goes out of its way, with Dukes mother, to point out the sequence. (“The first one’s a fibonacci sequence” -Dukes mom).
During the dinner Whiskey is wearing the same golden chain body jewelry that Birdie was wearing earlier at the pool. So this could mean two things: 1. They have the same chain and 2. Whiskey borrowed the chain from Birdie.
Now connecting to my first point about the chain jewelry above. The reason why Miles likes Whiskey, despite her sleeping with him for the sake of Dukes channel, is because Whiskey reminds him of younger Birdie. Birdie even talks to Peg about how dazzled and amazed Miles was when he first met her and how she wishes it was like that again. Then when they’re smashing the glass sculptures, the first thing Whiskey smashes is a sculpture of a bird. Hence smashing Miles perception of her as another person he can use like he used Birdie.
“You have him turn around so he can have deniability” -Aaron Burr in Hamilton (Basically what Blanc was thinking when he walked out of the room)
When Blanc is trying to light his cigar in the “Smokeless garden” the reason the alarms go off is because because just the smoke and small flames from Blanc’s cigar could cause “another Hindenburg”.
The ending scene with Helen and Blanc after Blanc asks her if she’s ready to go home, Helen’s sitting stance mimics the Mona Lisa. Miles said “It all started with her” in reference to his success being inspired by the Mona Lisa. But it all ended with Helen and her stance at the end mimicking the Mona Lisa is meant to represent that. The beginning and end of Miles Bron.
Blanc refers to alchol as offering Helen “some courage”. Ofc as we all know alcohol is commonly referred to as “Liquid Courage”.
We should’ve known Miles was the killer for this simple reason: The glass he handed to Duke. Duke dying holding Miles’s glass is literally like a signed note. Duke died with Miles name literally written on the crime scene.
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hyomaslut · 10 months
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──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! what is this? boyfriend material.
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☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ ᴘᴛ. 𝟷
✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, chigiri hyoma, reo mikage, nagi seishiro ✿ ─ cw: fluff, gn!reader, no pronouns but there are a few 'fem coded' things referenced like make up or skirts, aged-up!characters, established relationships, pet names, kissing, groping, pda, use of foul language, suggestive themes, proofread so many times so if there’s a typo ill cry ✿ ─ notes: this is my first post ♪(´▽`) i haven't written stuff like this in a pretty long time so bear with me ‹𝟹 this is some hybrid of headcanon and drabble idk
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ISAGI YOICHI is a full-fledged bonafide simp...
he suffers from tragic a condition. when he’s not trying? flirting supreme panty dropper. however, when he tries to flirt with someone he likes? bro is fumbling. at first he seems like such an instant charmer. hes a classic gentleman, great listener, and super attractive. but the second he gets an inkling of a crush, he ruins it for himself. stuttering and getting his words mixed up, saying the most embarrassing jumbled combination of what he actually meant to.
follows you around to all your tasks because how else would he spend his free time except hanging with his baby. to sephora, to the grocery store, to the salon, the the ends of the earth if that's where you're heading that day. more than happy to hold onto your hand as you go about your business, rambling about global soccer statistics and looking at you like you hold the world. yoichi is a prideful purse holder too, his arms and pockets and car being full of your belongings makes him insanely happy for some reason he can’t put his finger on. always ready to press the lip gloss you’re patting yourself down for into the palm your hand, taking a kiss as payment.
he’s bad at planning dates, so don’t put him in charge unless you want to be late to a reservation at a restaurant 2 hours away with mediocre food. he’s good at paying for them though!! the dates he does get to plan are usually to the mall. what can i say, man likes to spoil you.
at the mall isagi can kind of trick you. because typically if he were to offer to buy you a couple hundred dollars worth of things, you would absolutely refuse. buttt if its just one thing from this store and one thing from another, and maybe its the fact that you dont feel the weight of all the items as your boyfriend carries it all, but it flies under your radar. and at some point you look at yoichi… and he has a lot of shopping bags. surely some of those were his right? the little pleased love sick smile on his face says otherwise.
its so worth it to isagi tho. he gets to spend time with you, make you happy, be a doting bf. but it also means that he can pick out clothes for you. as generous as he was, he could be a bit of a greedy gifter - never leaving the mall without a new skirt of his choosing. will personally pick out a pile of things he wants you to try on just for him.
once youre with isagi for a few months, he reveals his true colors. man is a serial PDA offender. he just thinks you’re so pretty, and it gives him such an ego boost to be the guy by your side. better hold his hand or its going in your back pocket. leans in under the guise of giving you a quick, generally acceptable peck on the lips… but all of a sudden he wants another before you even fully pull away from the first and its all downhill from there. sits on your side of the table at restaurants instead of across from you so he can rest his hand on your thigh and sneak in small squeezes when he thinks youre not paying attention. and be careful about walking in front of him, he’s not strong enough to resist the urge to smack your ass.
if the PDA thing wasnt a dead give away, isagi is just very affectionate in general, honestly has a hard time leaving you alone when you’re in the same room as him. he just gravitates towards you no matter what he was previously doing. very easily distracted, very easy to bribe. he’s the type of guy where when he goes to get out of bed in the morning to go to practice, and you cling to him and ask him for just 5 more minutes, theres nothing that could stop him from sinking right back into your arms. his attendance record has definitely suffered because he is unable to deny you a single thing you ask for, especially if that thing is him.
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CHIGIRI HYOMA is taken and makes sure everyone knows it…
hyoma’s partner very quickly becomes his best friend if they weren’t before they started dating. it’s not even intentional, but he gets very quickly attached to you. sure, he has a decent amount of friends, but none of them know him like you do. he loves to hear you talk about your life, invested in your daily drama and indulging you with all of his. he likes to hear your input and insights on situations. he takes notes in his phone when he sees things he thinks you would like, or conversations he had that he wants to tell you about. forever surprised by how much he misses you when you’re apart, chigiri is used to not needing anyone the way he needs you. is so much grumpier at matches that have him go abroad without you, texting you often throughout the day, whenever he can get his hands on his phone.
because you’re now his best friend and partner, chigiri’s a bit tied to you at the hip, but he would never admit to being clingy. not that you mind, hanging out with him is fun and surprisingly intimate. he never fails to hold your hand wherever you go or throw an arm around your shoulder. on dates he’ll lean in close to your ear to whisper little observations and jokes about the people around, the two of you sharing witty comments and secretive snickers behind your hands. when hanging out with mutual friends, the way yours eyes meet his wordlessly, both holding the same micro expression, indistinguishable to other people, that says “we are so talking about that later”.
speaking of clinging to your side, hyoma can have a bit of a possessive streak at times. i feel like it’s something you don’t really expect of him until there’s a guy flirting with you in a store. the way your boyfriend is at your side before you can even answer, standing at his full height, squaring his shoulders with a sour look on his face, not at all shy about the way his arm snakes around your waist. “they’re not interested.” he states plainly, as if it were obvious, but if you payed close attention to him (which you always did), you would notice the distasteful curl of his lip or the venom seeping into his tone or the way his usually gentle fingers hold onto your side with a firm grip.
he doesn’t meet your eyes after, already sensing the knowing smirk on your lips. his ears turn red when you break the silence to tell him that green was a good color on him. but, your ever clever boyfriend is quick to reply, “that’s cute baby, but i’m not jealous. you haven’t seen me when i’m jealous.” the mischievous glimmer in his eye and the smug smile he wears reminds you to not test him.
king of matching outfits with you. not in the novelty shirts cheesy way, but he always asks for a fit check before he picks you up on dates. chigiri is outside your apartment within the hour, wearing a jacket that matches the color of your shoes and a sly grin. generally starts to shift his style to be a bit more cohesive with yours, he loves going out and looking like you belong together.
not to mention, matching outfits give him more excuses to take pictures with you. photos of you and him are plastered all over his instagram, your handle in his bio and everything. he’s no amateur either, always able to catch your best side, in perfect lighting. really makes you feel as pretty as he seems to think you are. hyoma is a bit of a show off too, so he gets a bit of an ego boost getting to let everyone know how cute you are, and that you’re all his.
hyoma greatly values the alone time he gets to spend with you. the best part of his week is sitting on the couch as you help him with his hair care routine. you running a mix of the comb and your fingers through his hair as the two of you catch up on the k-drama you started together. your touch and your attention and your warm presence enough to make the stress of a pro soccer career melt off his shoulders. makes you teach him how to do your nails and learns your skin care routine so that he can return the favor, although he’s much better at the latter.
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MIKAGE REO is ungodly whipped and more than a little dramatic…
if we’re talking about social media boyfriends, reo is near insufferable. let’s be real, reo was already flexing on the gram before you got with him. constantly posting pictures of his car and expensive watches and exclusive clubs. he just becomes worse when you agree to go out with him. his story is full of aesthetically blurry shots of you, sometimes featuring him, anywhere and everywhere. in his car, on dates, cooking in his kitchen. he even found the audacity to post a picture of you in his bed, your bare back in full frame, the sheets pooled around your waist. “i’m so lucky” was the caption and the only context provided. unsurprisingly the lifespan of that post was quite short once you caught wind of it, with the assurance that he wouldn’t be getting so lucky in the near future.
i totally think reo is the type of guy that tries to act like a fuckboy but is secretly a hopeless romantic. in other words, reo is a huge sap™. has a picture of you in his wallet. you’re his screen saver and all his passwords feature your name. nagi is the last person left that will still listen to reo ramble on about you, all of his other friends having gotten tired of it.
we already know that reo is taking you to fancy dinners on the regular, but more unexpectedly i think he is a big fan of outdoorsy dates. previously mentioned hopeless romantic tendencies means reo loves a picnic way more than he lets on. his favorite is when the summer comes around and he gets to take you to the beach. if reo dies and goes to heaven and it's not you rubbing sunscreen into his warm back in a skimpy swimsuit he picked out for you himself, he's not interested. a close second favorite of his is late night drives with you. all the windows of his luxury sports car down, blasting a playlist the two of you made together, singing loud and ugly down the empty freeway. in these moments you make him feel weightless and he swears it’s addicting.
king of clingy. every time that you feel your phone vibrate, there's a good chance that it's your boyfriend. never with anything important either, asking where you are, how was your day, sending you pics of whatever he is doing, even resorting to imessage games when he runs out of things to talk about. he just always finds himself itching to open your contact. if mikage reo could eat up all of your attention, he would not hesitate to do so.
reo is usually the caretaker. when he obtained status of boyfriend, you automatically went on his list of special people in his life, only really consisting of you and nagi, and this granted you the exclusive privilege of walking all over him if you so please. truly a pushover and weak to your pouts. while we’re on the subject of ways to get him to fold, reo is surprisingly easy to flatter. your compliments are honey to his ears, no matter how many people have said the same to him before. his heart thumps loud in his chest whenever you do any act of service or labor of love for him. just wait for the day you buy this man some flowers. got his hand splayed over his red face, his palm not wide enough to cover his infatuated grin. "they're really for me, babe? god i knew i picked you for a reason.”
reo's feelings for you run extremely deep. scary deep. you make him feel stupid and irrational. he can't think straight, he's impulsive. you have to keep a close eye on him because give reo enough time alone and he'll convince himself that getting your name tattooed across his chest is an amazing idea, a grandiose display of his affection and devotion to you - sick as hell too. god forbid you go on a trip by yourself, there's honestly a decent chance you'll come home to a marriage proposal and explanations on how "no no, don't worry babe, i know its sooner than you expected but i've got it all planned out.” just be glad that up until this point he has resisted the strong urge to drop a fourth of his trust fund on a ring, a price he's more than willing to pay to make you all his.
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NAGI SEISHIRO is greedy and will readily take a mile if given an inch…
nagi is… new to the whole boyfriend thing to say the least. not to say he’s bad at it or anything, but i imagine that in the beginning of your relationship, things are a bit, for a lack of better words, lukewarm. he struggles a bit with recognizing that the switch from friends to more than friends is more than just the title, letting you completely take the wheel. but his passiveness doesn’t last long. not when he can’t escape the way you are constantly on his mind. he thought it was overwhelming enough having a crush on you, but now that he’s falling for you it’s on another level. he thinks of you when he first opens his eyes, facing the obnoxious blue light of his phone to send you your daily goodmorning :x . he thinks of you at night, when he’s restlessly fighting to fall asleep before he ultimately caves and facetimes you so that he can drift off to your tired mumbles and even breaths. he thinks of you when practice drags on, the anticipation of seeing you after the only thing keeping him from giving into his exhaustion.
nagi can’t get you out of his head for the life of him, but to be fair he doesn’t put up much of a fight. seishiro is used to getting what he wants, so what does he do when his desire for you becomes a hassle? he makes it your problem. constantly calling you and asking you to pick him up from social functions because he misses you. insisting that he stays the night at your place or that you come to his because he needs his daily dose of you. and he doesn’t have the shame to be shy of telling you everything on his mind either. he unintentionally says very flustering things, unabashedly demanding your touch and your company, no matter who is listening. it’s your fault he’s like this after all, you might as well take responsibility and give him what he wants.
and what he wants is affection from you, as much as he can get. serishiro is mesmerized by your reactions. being in love with you is uncharted territory that he maps out with piqued curiosity and newfound greed. especially kissing. once nagi gets his first taste of kissing you for real, messy and needy and drawn out, he never wants to go back. not after seeing your red face, eyes lidded and lips parted so cutely he just has to steal one more. now his day dreams revolve around you, what flavor of chapstick you’re wearing, what perfume do you have on, are you thinking of him as much as he does you? thats one thing he never really finds the courage to ask, but that he secretly hopes is true.
he loves to find things you can work on together, even if you always end up being the one putting in more effort. nagi will insist on cooking dinner together, and maybe you get his help for a good 10 minutes before he’s slumped in a seat at the counter eating the ingredients. buys tons of lego sets for the two of you to put together and while you’re following the instructions, he’s stealing pieces you need so he can build a little car to push around the table while he watches you figure it out. he’ll even settle for a puzzle and a movie, but your out of luck if you expect him to do anything but the edges.
the lazy genius only really has the time and energy to have a couple of important people in his life, but once you make it into that inner circle, that shit is permanent as far as he’s concerned. it begins with him telling you that it only makes sense to leave some clothes at his apartment, you’re at his place half the week anyway. and then its him smuggling over your favorite pillows and stuffed animals to his bed instead of yours. then he’s asking you to go grocery shopping with him every week. the jokes he makes about the fact that, “you keep all your stuff here anyway. just move in with me already,” are far too frequent to be subtle. but when he hits you with the puppy eyes, which are annoyingly effective, how could you say no?
you’ve put yourself in his orbit after all and now the solar system that is nagi seishiro will use his gravity to pull you inevitably closer. it’s doomed.
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is my bias obvious?? cuz i feel like it might be… lmk which one was your favorite!!
© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.
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kazvha · 1 month
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Can you do what happens when the reader chooses one of the brothers in two separate parts?
Summary: After the Sae & Rin fight for your love, you finally choose one of them // They confess
Notes: Part 2 of these headcanons. This can be read on its own though!
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♡ You chose... Itoshi Rin!
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• You texted Sae that you couldn't come and that he should tell you the important thing at a later time
• He read your message with a clenched jaw, already knowing he lost you to his little brother. In a voice thick with anger he spit out "Ugh, you make me fucking vomit! Lukewarm piece of trash..."
• There were no people around in the park. The only one you saw was Rin sitting crosslegged on a bench. He was staring at the luminous lake in front of him, entranced by the way the water reflected the moonlight
• You sat down next to him and uttered a silent greeting to which he nodded. The silence was comfortable and like Rin, you also focused on the scenery in front of you
• "Seeing the huge masses of water; observing how the waves move in the wind calms me down for some reason. A lake doesn't have the same effect as the sea, but it will do."
• Slightly confused, you glanced up at him and his eyes were still on the water. The dark teal color of his irises shined as beautifully as the water in front of you
• Rin made a sour face. "At first, I only approached you to make my brother angry because I saw how he looked at you. I wanted to take you away from him and make him feel the despair I felt when he left me. You were only a tool to use for me..."
• You already had an inkling. It was weird that Rin approached you so openly when he usually hated the contact with other people. You concluded that he must have had an ulterior motive
• "But the more time I spent with you, the more my resolution crumbled. I got to know the real you and... Shit, I fell in love with you." He turned his body towards you and looked into your eyes. "The more I learn about you, the deeper I fall into that... hole." His irises fell to the ground, "I- I really don't give a shit about other people, but I do care about you."
• Sensing that his short outburst of emotions was over, you punched him on his stomach and he let out a painful grunt. "Okay, first things first, you were such a jerk!"
• Then you hugged him tightly. "Thank you for finally telling me the truth though." Rin reluctantly wrapped his arms around you as he sighed in relief
• "You're lucky you're a lovable idiot, I like you too, Rin." You squeezed him tighter, "Now there's no reason to fight with Sae anymore. This isn't about your fight with him anymore, this is about us."
• Rin snuggled his face into your neck and closed his eyes. You felt his smile against your skin. "Yeah. I'll only focus on you."
♡ You chose... Itoshi Sae!
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• When Rin read your swiftly written message that you couldn't meet up with him, he sighed, before hitting the bench behind him in pure, undiluted rage. "Piece of shit of a brother...! I'll find a way to break you, just you wait."
• Face partly hidden in your jacket, you walked into the hotel acting like someone who had a room there, to avoid getting the paparazzi in front of the building suspicious of you. In front of Sae's room you inserted the PIN code he sent you earlier
• Hearing the front door open, Sae jumped up from his bed to greet you. "You're finally here, 'twas about time.", he grumbled.
• "That's how you're greeting me? I literally ran here, Sae.", you replied sarcastically as you threw yourself onto the couch and rolled your eyes
• You could tell that Sae was nervous about something, which was a first. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and took a deep breath to calm his racing heart.
• "So, what did you want to tell me?" You decided to get straight to business, for which Sae thanked you internally. He came over to sit on the coffee table in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours.
• "Did I ever tell you that I regret not asking for your number in that cafe in Spain?" You shook your head and he continued after clearing his throat. "I regretted it. For years. And I still regret it now because I lost so much time that I could have spent with you."
• Sae offered you his hand and you slowly placed your hand on top of his palm. He squeezed it gently as he rubbed his thumb over the ring he gifted you
• "I can't lose you a second time because... I like you a lot. And it seems like Rin likes you too. So here I am confessing to you before that twig steals your heart."
• It took you a second to completely soak up his words. Sae Itoshi, the number one football player in Japan, your crush for so many years likes you? You broke into a joyous smile.
• "How could Rin have stolen my heart if it was already yours to begin with, dummy?" Sae's eyes widened a bit in surprise before they softened
• Hands caressing your cheeks, he leaned in until your lips met in a sweet kiss. He felt like this was the only way right now to convey the huge relief he felt to you
• "Thank you for choosing me. I promise you won't regret it."
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katapotato55 · 10 months
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how to make your writing be remembered forever and possibly be well loved.
(incredibly stupid and silly fanfiction line at the end of this post) I know that title is incredibly daunting but listen, its very simple. you ready?
MAKE STRONG CHARACTERS
"but kat! surely its not that simple! " nononono listen. bear with me. I want you to think of your favorite thing. Now ask: what do you remember the most about the thing you love? I will go first:
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I love team fortress 2. and guess what: this game has been around since 2007, and was in development hell since before I was even born. The game has been around for 16 fucking years. And guess what? in the strong year of 2023 team fortress 2 Is STILL getting memed about. and do you want to know the crazy part? the character designs to the naked eye are not special at all. ok sure from a designer standpoint, these are very well designed characters made so that you can easily tell who they are based on their silhouette. but from the average joe.... tf2 is iconic but overall it looks ok. it doesn't seem special to a stranger to tf2. look at this completely random and arbitrary example of a game in the same genre:
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I don't know shit about the characters in overwatch. Yeah i have a BASIC idea on what their personality is like based on voice lines and some videos i guess... but in-game they just exist. these characters are brightly colored, they have beautiful unique designs, hell they have even more diversity such as robots and people from other cultures! but i don't remember shit about these characters. Maybe I remember the ice lady and tracer, but nothing else. and yeah part of overwatch struggling right now is incompetant development, BUT: The characters in team fortress 2 are SO remember-able because the characters have such a vibrant personality. I am an orange box owner, its been a decade and a half and I am still remembering this game and enjoying art about it.
"but kat! that is a comedy game! Overwatch is a very serious game! are you saying comedy is needed to make a character more noticeable?" no. though I think allowing your characters to lighten up every now and then would humanize them. Not full on goofy, just give them something that makes them likeable. and if you cant do that, you can STILL make a compelling character even though they are mostly seriousness. I have an even more awfully thought out example:
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kung fu panda is a masterclass in making a serious comedic movie somehow work. Master Oogway.... he isn't a comedic character at all. Yeah we made memes about him, but ignoring that, he is a wise and resourceful person. He is at calm and has faith in this intuition. there are a lot of characters like this. What makes Oogway stand out is that he is also a little bit kooky and sassy.
youtube
this youtube clip sums up what I mean. It is a funny line, it fits the character, and It doesn't ruin the seriousness of the moment. Some of the most successful series in history have something about them that has appealed to people. In my opinion: characters with strong personality and interesting traits is always a good way to ensure your writing is successful. The second most important is the characters bouncing off of each other in terms of their chemistry with each other. There is a reason why I spent years playing the first Destiny game and all of the DLC, but I remember fuck all about the characters. I think I maybe remember the bootleg star lord robot guy.
A writing exercise
here is an exercise to get you in the spirit of character making. step 1- get a random character from a random bit of media. In this case let me bring you master Oogway. Step 2- Get a completely different character from a completely unrelated series. I am going to give you Scout from team fortress 2. step 3- write a random ass thing about them interacting. Think about how the characters would react to each other and why. Think about each characters values in life and think about how they would bond and conflict with each other. Think about characters similar to the character they met in the past and how they reacted then, and if they have never interacted, make something interesting with it. Step 4- keep experimenting. Once you get into the spirit you can apply this to any new character you could want to make anyways thats it byeee- "arent you going to do that ?" do what? "make a writing thing about oogway and scout. " ........
Scout: let's go turtle you got nothing on my speed- Oogway: The one who first resorts to violence shows that he has no more arguments. Scout: that sounds like chicken talk! come on tough guy let me have it- Oogway then proceeds to make scout eat shit before vanishing in a cloud of cherry blossoms and dust from the desert. If this post isn't popular I want you to know my dignity was lost for nothing.
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nerdranttheories · 9 months
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Okay I’m going to geek out about Toshinori’s costume designs because I’m an English major and analyzing tiny details in text is what we do and also I love??? The designs! And each one tells us so much about All Might and his focus during each costume.
Costume 1 (Young Might):
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So first off, despite young All Might’s longtime dream of being a hero, his suit is mostly black. A stark difference from comics books and his later self which tend to be bright primary colors. The few dashes of primary colors he has are desaturated, even in the second instance where we see this costume. This would have likely been the only costume Toshinori designed himself, as David became his designer in college.
Obviously, others have pointed out the similarities to Nana’s suit, just like how Izuku copied AM’s, so I don’t think it will be necessary for me to point that out. But this suit is also very practical. Something the flashy All Might isn’t really known for, but let me point the details out. He has boots, gauntlets, as well as what appears to be protection for his upper torso, and even for his neck. A decent balance between more protection and more weight, which would slow a hero down. Also, unlike Nana’s suit, his extends completely down the arms. The only skin surface available is that of his hands, something that stays the same through all of his costumes and as such, must be something he personally insists on. In media, gloves often represent someone with secrets, or a guarded personality. All Might not wearing gloves shows how open he is, not just with his friends but strangers too. And it’s humble, too. It’s not an unfeeling, covered hand extending to you when you’re in danger, it’s the bare-handed reach of a friend, and I fully believe that’s why Toshi goes without gloves. Also it’s possibly a sensory thing for him as well, which goes with my canon-supported theory that this man has ADHD, but that’s a nerd rant for another time.
The colors are important because while obviously they mimic Nana, you can practically see through the color choice that Toshinori is not in his right mindset here. While later the oversaturation of colors serves to show how his own heroism has made him into something Else, and outside of his own head, leaving the man inside to shrivel away, these muted colors show that Toshinori has not yet blossomed. Also in the brief scenes we see of him when he is younger, Toshinori is very solemn. The one scene we get of him smiling when he’s young is when Izuku is comparing them at the same age, and even then, it’s more of a smirk as opposed to the signature All Might grin we all know and love. Black also is just a reasonable color for something like crime-fighting. Black shows the least grime/dirt, so he could reasonably spend more hours out in this costume without having to come home and wash it/trade it out. (Which is something that I love that this series includes, by the way!)
Costume 2-ish:
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Toshinori adds some shoulder pads for the fight with AFO, probably expecting to stand side-by-side with his mentor. I could give a more full-body image but this is really the only difference I could pick out.
Costume 3 (College Might):
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This is the first costume of All Might’s that is designed by David Shield.
First off, props to David. He’s an awesome designer. He not only made a new design, but incorporated several choices from AM’s previous suit, and definitely conferred a lot with Toshi on how he wanted his suit to look while still ensuring its functionality.
Black is traded for a dark, unsaturated blue, giving AM a more peaceful look, as navy blue is considered to be a calming color. (Even Endeavor wears it! But maybe copying AM and not wearing it for the same purposes?) All Might’s cape is also changed from red to blue, taking away the dark look and making it the color of the sky, again adding to that Symbol of Peace idea that is Toshinori’s dream. The gauntlets and boots remain, but the chest-piece has been removed, offering up more mobility. The yellow of his belt has been brightened, and added in place of the blues on his gauntlets and boots, giving him an overall more friendly look as opposed to the more subdued one he had before with the blue accents. The red has been removed as well, and by moving it to his body, it gives the impression of veins and the blood that is pumping away through the heart of this hero, which is fantastic for someone who cares as much as Toshinori does. White was also added vertically on the sides of the suit, thinning out the very intimidating form of Toshi and making him more approachable, while adding a more pure look to his overall form. This appears to be in part, a stylistic choice on David’s end that follows through to the other suits, though it’s hard to know if it remains on the Bronze Age Suit as well.
Overall the brighter colors telegraph that Toshinori is doing much better mentally at this point. He now has A Friend, and for the time being, is safer from the troubles at home, until he has to return.
Costume 4 (Bronze Age):
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We don’t even get a full look at this suit, indicating that its time in use was likely short-lived. As I’ve seen others suggest, it seems very likely that when All Might returned to Japan, he went straight down to business and began doing vigilante work as he tried to track down AFO. However, possibly due to a combination of not finding him and All Might’s rising popularity, he seems to abandon this track and move on to a different form of heroism, which his suit symbolizes. I’ll briefly point out that Toshinori returns to the primarily black suit he had as a teenager, as well as the shadows of his face that add to the idea that as soon as he got back to Japan, he reverted to the mindset he had when he left.
Costume 5 (Silver Age):
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This suit indicates to me that this period was All Might’s prime, despite his later suit being considered the Golden Age of All Might. (And even though it’s my least-favorite design.) He has the typical cape of a hero, and the bright colors are now fully of typical comic book style. The circular design on his chest indicates a target, but with being cast in white and surrounded in red, gives the impression that he himself is not the target, but the villainy around him is. Or at least, that is likely the thought process for this design. Other than the dashes of white here and there, the colors are very solid, possibly indicating a more stable, but single-minded train of thought, something AM is notorious for. No offense to Dr. Shield, but I would have mixed the colors better in here, and the cape connection is too bulky for someone who’s as jacked in the shoulders as Toshinori is. Alas, I am not the designer. We shall move on.
Costume 6 (Golden Age):
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I love this suit. Plenty of analysis has been done on it already, but I think it’s a fantastic representation of how Toshinori’s been crushed under the very image he had originally wanted to create. His shadows are darkest and most severe here, reminiscent of how body-builders dehydrate themselves to get the best appearance of their musculature. His posing is also more inward, as opposed to the silver age, with the angles of his elbows being less directly out and more in, and instead of appearing confident, it’s more of how a cat puffs out its hair to make itself appear larger when it’s scared. I had a long bit to go with this but it was eaten by the Tumblr gremlins. Basically I believe this suit was made post AFO-battle. All Might is declaring he’s not finished yet, all while knowing his time is running out. This suit has several callbacks to the original suit David designed for him, with the navy, though more saturated base and the red lines running throughout the form, though the gauntlets and boots from before have been integrated into the suit itself. This could reflect David’s mindset as well, as he reminisces about the days when Toshinori was healthy and happy, when now Toshinori’s health is rapidly fading.
Anyway, here’s my costume analysis! I think it adds a little more insight to Toshinori’s mental state and situations in the years outside of the show as well as in them, and I hope you enjoyed this read! I’d love to hear other ideas too, if anyone has them!
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Call of Duty but make it 🐺werewolves🐺
{Author's Note} Inspired by @deadbranch's werewolf AU so definitely go check it out. I’ve leaned more into the supernatural aspect than her series has and thought it'd be fun to post it for October hehe. If y'all want some good werewolf/soldier content, check out the "Shape-Shifters" episode from Netflix's Love, Death, and Robots. It fits this AU perfectly and gives a good visual for how things would work. >Call of Duty Werewolves AU -> Part 2 *I’d love hearing any ideas y’all have and would be happy to answer with more headcanons if you guys want. Werewolves and werewolf AUs are my JAM*
~ ~ ~
First, some lore for this AU...
>Werewolves are usually forced into organizations like the military to keep them under control. They are feared by most of humanity and treated more as assets rather than citizens with laws put into place to make sure they don't hurt the people around them. Medication is often taken to suppress their lycanthropy and violent force is used if they ever get out of hand. There are plenty of groups who specialize in the hunting and killing of werewolves.
>Natural werewolves are born with their abilities and have an easier time with their transformations as a result. 
>Bitten werewolves gain their abilities after being bitten by another werewolf. They tend to be more vicious when transformed and often have a harder time managing themselves. 
>Transformations are not dictated by the cycles of the Moon but instead by a werewolf’s will and emotions. However, many werewolves revere the Moon and often hold celebrations as it passes through its phases each month.
>Werewolves only gain about a foot in height when they transform, due to the shape of their feet changing and their spine lengthening to allow for quadrupedal movement (ex. 6'4" -> 7'4"). Their muscle mass/weight remain about the same as it is the face and head that undergo the most dramatic changes.
>Hair length and style remain relatively the same when transformed. Bitten werewolves tend to have less hair than natural werewolves. 
>Eyes are reflective in both forms; natural werewolves keep their human eye colors when transformed, while bitten werewolves tend to have more unusual eye colors (brown to amber, blue to silver, etc.). 
>Moon madness/blindness is when a werewolf is overwhelmed by the light of a full moon and transforms without meaning to, regressing to a state of mind that is driven more by instinct rather than higher reason (werewolf equivalent to human psychosis). This is more common among bitten werewolves and can lead to violent outbursts if not properly addressed.
>Among werewolves, moonstones are said to restore a werewolf’s humanity when they’ve lost control. Because of their relative rarity, however, this belief exists only in the realm of legend rather than truth. 
🌙 🐺 🌙
💲Price is well-known for his experience and the ease with which he can transform. He commands those around him with confidence, acting as a supporting presence and capable leader. He should never be underestimated, however, as his temper frightens even the toughest werewolves.
💀Ghost was nearly killed by the werewolf who turned him and so views his lycanthropy as more of a curse. He bears numerous scars from the attack and tends to be quite vicious when transformed. He is the largest of the 141 with oversized fangs, tufted ears, and blazing amber eyes. 
🧼Soap comes from a family of Scottish werewolves who eagerly embrace their lycanthropy. He has great control over his transformations and suffers little pain as a result. His trademark Mohawk and bright blue eyes remain when shifted, making him easily identifiable.
🧢Gaz still struggles with his transformations after being bitten but he doesn't find them particularly overwhelming. Price and Soap have both been a huge help in that regard, offering their advice and companionship when needed. He's become far more confident in his abilities and enjoys the company of his fellow lycanthropic soldiers.
🦿Alex was attacked by a moon-blinded werewolf and unfortunately lost his lower left leg as a result. He's managed to find enjoyment in his new life, however, thanks in part to his association with the 141, and uses his enhanced abilities to his advantage. Laswell had a unique prosthetic made for him that adapts to his transforming body.
🪦Graves is a born-and-bred werewolf. He’s proud of his abilities and encourages use of them among his Shadows. He makes for a loyal and headstrong soldier who is known for his disarming charm and willingness to get his hands dirty. Shadow Company functions more as a tight-knit family rather than a horde of military operatives, due primarily to Graves’ leadership and his embracing of their lycanthropy.
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jaiden-zhou · 6 months
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(1) casual iso <3
contents: headcanons, reader is a uniqlo employee for plot purposes
not a writer but,, iso is so.. sigh, imagine this reserved uniqlo wearing hitman acting like an absolute puppy for you. yeah this is self indulgent and yeah maybe its based off of my experiences but hey, content.. its long.. i.. the things this man does to me
part 2, part 3
.
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iso whose closet is practically all uniqlo apparel, from core basics to limited exclusive collabs, anything else is like expensive tech wear/street style clothes, he likes his quality
iso who always grabs heavy oolong milk tea with tapioca pearls, a classic predictable drink (his friends call him basic for it, but he doesn't mind), every afternoon he gets the chance to
iso who ends up being an employee there with how much he visits, the owners are a chinese elderly couple who like gossiping with him in mandarin (he has fun listening to their stories and such)
iso who likes having music playing of his own whether it be from his headphones or speakers, even at work his music is playing loud enough for only him to hear from his headset hanging around his neck
iso who works evening shifts part-time and gains a lot of eyes from admirers where he gets at least three numbers given to him a month like "you're really cute, text me <3 (XXX) XXX-XXXX"
iso who's never interested, none of them catch his eyes like how he catches theirs, and ends up tossing whatever number scribbled onto a receipt away
iso who goes to uniqlo on his day off for a collaboration launch consisting of outerwear jackets and trousers that match his style only to not find his size on the racks
iso who takes his time trying to comb through the racks, desperate to find it on his own and take it with him before giving up, pulling down his headphones, and reluctantly asking you
iso who, at a reasonable distance, looks over your shoulder as you look up the product listing with the desired size and color, hearing faint rap music playing through his headphones slung around his neck, finding that there should be three units left and listens in quietly when you radio your coworkers if there are any in the back before going to look for yourself
iso who waits patiently at the same spot for quite a while before you go jogging up to him with the jacket he has been wanting, the plastic and paper still wrapping it up signaling that it has been unprocessed and untouched
iso who still is patient with you with an expectant look, not the impatient kind, it's the anticipating excitement kind, as you're still a little out of breath from running around finding the item for him unwrapping and removing all the excess packaging and giving it to him with both hands, garbage tucked at your arm
iso who looks at your earnest expression, sweet eyes, and genuine smile and feels his breath hitch before taking the coat and doing a little head bow while muttering a quiet 'thanks'
iso who leaves an anonymous compliment to you, conveying his gratitude for going out of your way to find him a limited quantity jacket and sub-consciously thinks of your cute expression of when you gave it to him every time he throws it on
iso who was asked to pick up a morning shift, no one else could and so he decided to just wake up early enough and suck it up but boy does he not regret it
iso who opens up the shop for the first time ever and lo-and-behold, you waltz in as the first customer and immediately he recognizes you, and apparently so do the owners
iso who listens quietly as, whom he likes to call granny, greets you with a warm voice asking if you're ready to go to work
iso who once again patiently waits for you to walk up and order, finding out that you're also a regular here, always grabbing a drink before your long shift at the japanese clothing store he met you in
iso who's still a little quiet, shy even, when you greet him noting that you recognize him from a while ago, your friendly exterior giving him a fuzzy comforting feeling inside
iso who after making your drink, bids you goodbye and continues on (not before asking to switch to morning shifts.. for some reason hehe)
iso who starts seeing you most mornings before you work and then with some time, working up the courage (it was very hard, he was very nervous you just didn't see it) to ask you for your number, nothing romantic just being friendly, right?
iso who starts getting a little closer to you, learning what day and times you work, your hobbies, your favorite things, the music you listen to <3
iso who sometimes drops by your workplace to give you a drink or some food and simple yet subtly sweet encouragement that always seems to lift your spirits to push through the day
iso who even starts to see you near or at the end of your shift to take you home, you've worked long enough, and it's dark out.. :(
iso who likes to ensure your safety by accompanying you home, his friends like to say (tease) that it gives him an excuse to see you more. it's dangerous out at night, what are they talking about? nonsense. (denial is a river in egypt)
iso who as time goes by, slowly craves your presence a little more than he'd like to admit, you're always on his mind and he often flusters himself with his thoughts of you, his cheeks donning a light-pink blush. maybe his friends are onto something.. ugh
yeah i'm definitely writing more iso content hehe
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"don't have to take me home every time, zhao yuuuu." you whined next to him. "i've done it before and i can do it again."
you only get a short scoff in return, iso's hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.
"it's dark, you're more at risk when you're alone." iso states matter-of-fact. his headphones at his neck with no music playing. "you know this too, so you shouldn't be complaining."
"yeah but," you pause for a moment. "i don't want you to have to make the trip each time to pick me up.."
iso takes in your dejected tone, his eyes soften.
"and i don't want you being in potential danger where i could've been there to deter it." iso chides softly. "please, for my peace of mind.."
"whatever you say," you comply, your shoulder bumping into him jokingly as you share a quiet laugh. "thanks, yu. it means a lot."
"always," he replies, a certain warmth sets in when he hears you say his nickname.
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mako-neexu · 25 days
Text
going insane over dantes and ordeal call chapter 2 post #234098 the way he says his flames burn hotter/more poisonous than in his normal Saint Graph and you literally remember he made a new Spirit Origin for guda and his NPs are literally ABOUT guda, the color choice in the 3rd ascension with blue accents on his stars and eyes said to be the color of guda's SOUL time and time again, 
and he also literally looks like goetia because "MY DESTINY" (istfg im going CRAZY. im going crazy!!! my desiny??? MY DESTINY!!?!?!?!?) and both him and dantes had that one on one to guda, goetia also made a hilariously BAD set up against himself so like dantes and guda became partners in crime in prison tower like goetia unintentionally played MATCHMAKER and created the worst duo ever im shitting tears. the probable reason as well why he looks like that in the 3rd ascension is because dantes viewed goetia as "an ultimate enemy guda overcame" which he positioned himself in as well so he could be defeated which was his goal in the first place i think im going to break from so much info bro. theres also the fact that prison tower and pseudo-tokyo are basically the same (that also required huge amount of mana) -> guda was dropped into prison tower, (directly/indirectly) helped by gankutsuou, stuck in chateau d'lf/becoming an Avenger by giving into temptation->bad end || overcoming the trials each floor/understanding the Avenger class, overcoming the flames-> return to chaldea. dantes positioning himself once more as both that tiny light of hope and that enemy who has guda fall into a trap likei am so. n.lromnal. I think i hauve covid
and thinking about. "my destiny" "my radiant one" "my one good thing" "my star" like- to be loved is to be changed. man. to be loved is to be!!!changed!!! and the blue and pink-purple flames that symbolize GUDA having been so special to him in this life that it changed him, BECAME SO SPECIAL TO HIM!!! (you can literally see it in his EYES??? his 4th aascension art where his flame is BLUE AS WELL??????????)
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that he is still Avenger, Count of Monte Cristo, he who enacted vengeance and the greatest seeker of it, he who continues to hate and burn eternally yet chooses to love!!!!!!!!!!!!! becoming that tiny light of hope to an innocent soul and now here they stand, that tiny light he continued to protect now shines more radiant than anything else, and because of that love, his flames burn much much more fiercely than his previous saint graph and like he has you stay away bc you might evaporate to nothing and he explicitly says theyre stronger in his Monte Cristo alt!! while hes also trying to distance himself from you again bc he must still hold guilt in his heart for making you go through the Avenger ordeal and as well as the fact that you literally need to leave the flames/Avengers behind due to their conflicting nature with the wall bc being attached would be sooo hard to let go and especially considering what you and dantes went through together like what is this?? its like a giant slap of I LOVE YOU SO MUCH against my face????????? theres literally nothihg left of my remains????????????
dantes is also basically so stupidly even more overpowered here have you seen his skills??? Count of Monte Cristo Mythologie became a skill along with the fourteen relics/14 jewels and he can jUST cassually!???? activate that!?!?!?????? meanwhile WHAT HE CONSIDER AS HIS NOBLE PHANTASM IN THIS SAINT GRAPH IS O STAR/O YOU WHO, CONQUER THAT BRILLIANT PATH??? THAT VERY ONE ABOUT GUDA???? IS THIS REAL????? his NP dmg and effects are so crazy too???? LITERALLY POWERED BY LOVE AND BACKED UP BY AGE OF GODS LEVEL FUCK YOU ENERGY ?? im plagued by dantes and OC2 thoughts since last month someone free me ajdkfgk
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maple-the-awesome · 6 months
Text
Friend or Foe || Part 2/3
Part 1 || Part 3
Pairings: Time, Wind, Wild x GN Reader
Overview: Link visits an alternate world without its hero and, more importantly, a version of you without your Link. Unfortunately, it seems even the smallest of details can lead to disastrous results. In spirt of Halloween, I've decided to do a little evil prompt because none of the Links have enough emotional damage yet😈
Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist
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Time may not remember everything that has occurred over his many, long adventures, but he does remember the day you met. Only children then, you both made an innocent promise to marry once adults. Now, Time may be a lot of things, but he has always been a man of his word. How could he not be when presented the perfect chance to spend the rest of his life with his childhood crush? You’re the one person he can trust with his every secret - the reward at the end of every troubling journey. He lives to see your joy and dies to see your sorrow, even when it isn't exactly 'your' sorrow...
It's difficult business keeping track of eight young boys and men, especially when they're all cursed with the same adventurous spirits that are easily distracted. Of course they’ve managed to disappear here. He can only blame himself for not having questioned their silence sooner, although he’d be lying to say he doesn’t feel disappointed, notably with the older boys, Twilight and Warrior, who are usually more responsible than to simply wander off without a word of explanation. Alas, even they’re nowhere to be seen, his only hint of other life nearby being a giggle that echoes off the vast number of gigantic trees.
"My, my. One more left I see?" Time leaps back, hand already on his sword when he hears the voice, “Oooh, and look at you! So handsome! So fierce! I’m digging the scar - it makes you look so tough. And those muscles, too! You seem like you would really know how to -”
“- Where are you?!” Time demands, getting his answer promptly when a figure swings down from a branch mere feet away from his face.
“Wow! You’re even hotter up closer!”
Time's eyes widen in surprise due to both their sudden entrance and their physical appearance. This mysterious person has wild hair that sticks out in every direction with their body lacking a healthy weight or color, yet Time immediately ignores all of that in favor of focusing upon the mask they wear - one he knows all too well but wishes he didn’t. He thought, for a second, that he may have recognized their voice, too, yet he’s more certain that he must be mistaken in that regard. No way it could be…
“Hey, you were traveling with those other boys, right? So maybe you’ll be nicer by giving me the answers I want! You see, beautiful stranger, I’m looking for a special friend of mine. We made a promise a while back and I intend to fulfill it if I could just find him first. None of the travelers I’ve found in these woods so far are him, so I was beginning to lose hope until I overheard those friends of yours mention his name, but they -”
Time can’t move, his body overcome with a chilled wave that ends with his feet cemented to the ground. It would be reasonable to say he misheard the first time, and he could keep denying it if he wants now, but that wouldn’t change the fact that he does recognize this person’s voice. How could he not when it’s the same that belongs to his own person angel? It’s a disordered version of yours, however this person isn’t you. This can’t be you because last he checked, you were safe back home where you promised to wait for his next return. How could you suddenly be here in this world, kept under the binding influence of Majora’s Mask?
“- Hey, are you broken?!” This person - who still so eerily sounds like you despite Time’s refusal to admit such a thing - knocks a fist against his forehead, barely flinching when he jerks back with a gasp, “Sooo? You gonna help me or just be difficult like your friends, eh? I don’t have all day, miser!”
Perhaps this ‘you’ is simply a figment of his imagination created by the forest to torment him; that must be the answer. He just has to play the game - no matter how much it messes with his head - to find out what happened to the boys. He’s dealt with enough Skull Kids before, this would be a piece of cake.
“I -...This friend of yours, who is he? Someone you’ve lost in the forest?” Time asks carefully, doing his best not to react too much outwardly, after all he’s seen first hand how Majora’s Mask can affect the mind of its wearer, and this ‘you’ before him has already clearly been put through the wringer.
“If I knew where I had lost him, I would’ve found him!” You snap in irritation.
Time swallows, “...Right, that does make sense, but perhaps if you could tell me his name, I could offer you better help in finding him?”
You seem pleased by this answer, swinging yourself upright on the branch where you become illuminated only by the glowing eyes of your mask, “Link.”
“L…Link?” That cold feeling from before returns, making Time suddenly feel sick to his stomach as the dots finally begin to connect in his head. This is no figment of his imagination - no trick of the light or evil illusion. It really is you…not the same version of you he married, but the other he promised to…
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In Wind’s world, you're an adored teacher on Windfall Island. You’re kind, caring, and very knowledgeable about Hyrule's history which came in handy whenever he needed pointers during his early adventures. Yes, you would express concern over a child of his age partaking in such dangerous affairs (you thought it was all a joke when he first told you) and you've let it slip before that you aren't the biggest fan of pirates, although beyond your mother-like worry which you’ve adopted towards all your students (even the unofficial ones like Wind), you’ve ultimately supported him every step of the way. You've always been a huge role model for him, so this shift in personality is more than unexpected...
Wind was excited to show his new friends around what he thought to be his own Hyrule and relieved to discover they weren’t alone on this island they’ve found themselves stuck on after wandering through another portal. A pirate ship anchored on shore - the very ship belonging to Zelda’ crew, as Wind foolishly assured the others despite their caution. Now, thanks to his impatience and eagerness, he sits saddened and embarrassed next to the rest of the heroes as they remain tied to the ship’s mast. 
It’s confusing. The pirates of this ship are the same as Zelda's crew, yet they claimed to not at all recognize the younger pirate regardless of his attempts to jog their memories. Instead, they had rounded him and the rest of the Chain up the second they approached their dock, taking them prisoner where they currently wait for 'the Captain's reaction'. 
The Captain. This made Wind feel relieved again. Zelda. He doesn't know why the other pirates are acting so strangely, but Zelda will be able to clear this whole mess up, in fact here she comes, dressed in her normal pirate attire Wind's accustomed to seeing.
"ZELDA! Goddesses, am I glad to see you! I don't understand what kinda trick the guys are trying to play on me, but this isn’t the time! My friends - they're all heroes of courage like me and we could really use your help to -" The words come so quickly from Wind's mouth that Zelda barely has time to look disgusted. 
"How hard did you exactly hit this guy?" She asks while looking to Nudge then back to Wind with a smirk.
"Wha - I'm serious! This is urgent, Zelda -!"
"- Who?" She places her hands on her hips, generally seemingly confused which makes Wind's blood run cold, but not as much as it does when another voice speaks.
"Oi, what's the ruckus out here, eh!? I thought I told ya' lot to keep it down - Oh. What do we have here, umm?" The doors to the Captain's cabin burst open, out walking a figure dressed head-to-toe in a bright red uniform with a large black, white, and magenta feather sticking out from their hat.
"Captain," Zelda immediately backs off from Wind, "These guys were just caught after trying to rush our ship."
"No, that’s not what we -!"
"- Little thieves. 'thought they could just follow us here and steal our treasure!" The pirates hiss together, although you take more time to look over the boy in front of you along with his companions.
"You all look familiar…" Your statement - as disinterested as it sounds - almost gives Wind hope. Almost, "Lock 'em up in the cellar where I won't have to listen to their annoying bitching. Gonzo, set a course for the Forsaken Fortress. I think Ganondorf would like to meet these boys. Tetra, you stick with me."
"YES, CAPTAIN!" An assortment of shouts follow, both from the pirates who follow your every order loyally and the heroes who express their dismay. Wind, however, can only stare in complete disbelief and betrayal as you look back at him once more, your eyes dark from underneath your hat's shadow which is a sharp contrast to the usual warmth that he knows you for. 
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Wild lives with a lot of heavy regrets weighing him down, perhaps the most unspoken being his missed chance at ever telling you his true feelings. You were an ever-so-dear friend to him before the Calamity - someone who never expected the impossible from him and always offered a shoulder to lean on should he need one. He loved you quite a bit; something he remembered almost as soon as he remembered you. He has often visited your grave, replaying past events in his head while suffocating in his own guilt from not having protected you. He has sometimes begged the Goddess to let him see you again, even if just to apologize, but this isn’t what he had in mind - far from it…
Wild’s version of Hyrule is chaotic and messy; a land that thrives off of quiet hope and the shattered remnants of a once mighty kingdom. Zelda has mentioned the theory before: that like Hyrule, Wild needed to become something else - something different and unruly in nature because if you can’t beat it, then join it. 
With that said, he’s accustomed to using a lack of forethought, at least in any way comparable to his past self (which is what he tells himself, anyway). As far as he knows, before the Calamity, he was as straight-laced as they come, always concerning himself with his public image and focused on never letting anyone down. He’s nothing like that now, often running into danger head first with messy hair and a blaze of fire following his trail. You would think after the amount of concussions and scars he’s gained, he would’ve long learned his lesson, but alas, he raced through this dungeon with little worry as he’s done many others because his confidence - or perhaps his dull wit - has once again outweighed any common sense. 
Now this is the price he must pay for his own ignorance: a nightmare reanimated before him as it taunts and tortures his inner conscience…and all he can do is accept this horrid punishment in frozen terror as you stalk across the room towards him.
When he raced ahead of the others and turned the key, he expected to be greeted with the typical dungeon boss - an overgrown bokoblin or fiery wizard. He didn’t expect it to be you, crumbled on the ground with gloom affecting your entire body. He didn’t expect for you to react so harshly to his presence, throwing him across the room with a blast of magic when he tried to reach your side, desperate to know how you’re alive and if you’re okay.
You look as angry as you have every right to be, your face curled into a snarl as you come closer, eyes narrowed in an orange glow and a sword in your hand…yet Wild could do nothing but let his knees buckle from underneath himself and dig his nails into his scalp as he asks himself over and over again how this is possible. How are you here? How are you alive? How were you affected and how does he fix you? …He can’t, though. He let you down then and has no idea how to save you now despite having been granted the gift of your presence again - the very thing he’s been begging for.
“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” He cries, not sure if it’s for you or himself as he sobs your name with the same heartache he would over your grave, “I’msorry! I’msorry!”
“IT’S AN ILLUSION, WILD! IT’S NOT THEM!” Someone shouts from behind - someone who he’d usually easily recognize as Twilight yet his mind is in too much of a rush to even listen to his concerned friend’s words, let alone care about his identity. 
Wild can only think of his final moments with you. The day you ‘casually’ told him about plans to try a new restaurant in Castle Town and how you were looking for someone to join you. Foolishly - ever so foolishly - he asked if your sister wouldn’t go, generally confused that you, someone so kind and loved, would have trouble finding a willing companion for any aspect of your life. 
Bashfully, you agreed to ask her, and that was it. You walked off, leaving the poor hero to wonder why you looked so dejected and heartbroken. The next time he’d see you was a mere picture an old woman showed him, curious if you happened to be the one he ran into town desperately searching for. The woman - your niece, as it would turn out - confirmed his worst fears, explaining that while you had survived the initial attack during the Calamity, you like many others soon succumbed to an illness Purah now theorizes to have been a result of close contact with gloom. 
Wild can only imagine your final moments, poisoned by gloom and betrayal much like this other version of you is. If only he had done his job properly, you would have never felt such pain. You, like your sister, would have grown old and lived peacefully as you deserved. He, himself, wouldn’t have to forever live with this guilt he bears from your death - guilt that tries convincing him it would’ve been better if Twilight hadn’t pulled him away from the danger, instead allowing you - even if not truly you - to get some sort of revenge for his mistakes. 
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sirfrogsworth · 4 months
Text
Mounjaro's Revenge: The Inevitable Adventures of Froggie, Chapter Unknown
I keep saying I can't leave the house without having some kind of adventure. And I really thought I was going to have a quick, uneventful doctor's visit with my monthly checkup this past Wednesday. I'd go in, they'd check the box Medicare requires every month, and I'd come straight home.
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But adventure seeks me out. I can't seem to escape its grasp. And, yes, sometimes I like having adventures. They give me something to write about. And sometimes they are fun memories. But sometimes adventures just make me tired. And not all adventures are positive.
For the past 3 weeks I have been on the second dosage amount of Mounjaro. Unlike the Ozempic, I have had a few issues with side effects. Roughly 48 hours after my injection, I get sick to my stomach and feel pukey. It lasts for about two hours. I either vomit and lose the urge or I hold it in and it fades. I am then compelled to take a nap.
Considering the weight loss and glucose control, getting sick for an hour or two per week isn't a huge deal. There is a good chance I will get used to the medication as time goes on, but even if I don't, I am okay with this consequence.
My injection day was Tuesday, and based on past experience, I figured I'd have until Thursday morning before I got sick. The past 2 episodes happened at almost identical times, so I figured Wednesday wouldn't be a problem.
But right before my doctor's appointment I started feeling extremely... rough.
Optimistic for no good reason, I was hopeful I could get through the appointment before the urge to vomit arrived.
I get to the office and there are 3 patients ahead of me. This was not a good sign. My doctor tends to overbook and I was probably going to have a bit of a wait. I arrived in the middle of a lively conversation about where to get a good steak in St. Louis. I'm used to waiting rooms being full of quiet and bored people staring at their phones so when I opened the door it felt like the conversation smacked me in the face.
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The cast of characters were as follows...
There was an older black man who had the spirit of a kindly grandpa. He seemed nice and wise and was enjoying the steak conversation. Let's call him, Old Guy.
There was an older white fellow who was anxious about the wait time due to having another appointment soon. He was on hold with the other doctor's office trying to delay his appointment time. He was only mildly interested in steak due to that distraction. I already used Old Guy, so... Anxious Guy.
And then there was the steak expert who was leading the conversation. Actually, leading is not strong enough. He was *dominating* the conversation. As I sat down and his visage entered my field of view, I was a bit taken aback.
Do you know how in Star Trek everyone has a mirror universe doppelganger who may look the same, but they usually have personality traits that are reversed?
They are often identified by arch overacting or a change in facial hair.
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The steak expert was my mirror universe counterpart. He was of similar age, height, and weight. Same color hair and eyes. He even wore similar clothing.
But he had a goatee instead of a beard. *gasp*
And he wore... sandals. *double gasp*
He had clearly been in a recent transporter mishap.
I mean, I could *never* wear sandals. The world is not ready to handle my nude foot and I find very few sandals have the load-bearing capacity necessary for people my size. You are asking for foot pain if you are over 300 pounds and wearing sandals.
Mirror Froggie was very outgoing and personable, but he had trouble filtering what he said and was often obliviously rude. He clearly thought himself to be hilarious but struggled to make even kindly Old Guy chuckle.
Old Guy said, "I think Longhorn makes a decent steak for the money."
And then Mirror Me's unfiltered response... "Longhorn is shit. You shouldn't eat there. You are wasting your money on shit steak."
"I don't know, I've always enjoyed..."
"I'm telling you, friend, it is shit steak. End of story."
You could tell that made Old Guy feel bad for suggesting what he liked. But he brushed it off and asked for a better suggestion. Mirror Froggie confidently told him of a restaurant called "Sam's" that had "the best steak in town."
Old Guy proceeded to ask Siri to look up Sam's and it took a few tries. He reminded me of my dad fighting with the iPhone and repeating things over and over with increasing volume. I think Old Guy wasn't specific enough as he got the wholesale club on the first few attempts. Finally he said, "SAMMM'S STEAKHOUSSSSE" and found success. Old Guy saw the reviews and some of them were... not great.
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But Mirror Froggie was like, "You can't read reviews. They're all liars." And I was questioning why people would take the time to lie about a small St. Louis steakhouse, but whatever. He then said it was because the restaurant was in disrepair and needed new plumbing, but that's why they could sell such amazing steak at reasonable prices.
Theories are less logical in the Mirror Universe. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Anxious Guy got off his phone call and cursed into the void. He missed his other appointment. He interjected with, "Is that Sam's place expensive?" And that sent Mirror Froggie into a long diatribe about the price of meat at different places and his annoyance at steak-related inflation. Soon after, Anxious Guy finally got in to see the doctor. Old Guy was keeping Mirror Froggie busy with conversation, so I just closed my eyes and rested as they discussed the price of oversized shrimp "as big as your fist". I guess they ran out of things to say about steak.
As they were talking I started to get a spidey-sense about Mirror Froggie.
He *needed* conversation.
He *needed* distraction.
His boredom abhors a vacuum.
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Whenever there was a lull or silent moment, I could see him getting very antsy. And if Old Guy got called in before Mirror Froggie... I was going to have a problem.
I was feeling sicker by the moment and did not have the bandwidth to help some stranger with his inability to accept boredom.
And... Old Guy was next.
Because, of course he was.
I feel like sitting there with my eyes closed and also not having said a word the entire time was a pretty decent social cue that I was not interested in talking. But Mirror Me decided to poke that notion with a stick in order to find a way in.
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He speaks barely above a whisper, "I wish I could sleep in a public waiting room. Not sure how you do that."
"Yeah, I'm not feeling well. Nothing contagious, just very tired."
"Well, if you're sick, I guess you're in the right place, am I right? *long pause* Cuz we're next to a hospital. *short pause* Right?"
Oh great, he's a joke explainer.
Mirror Froggie did not care about my desire to sit in peace while I waited. His foot was anxiously a-tappin' and he was vibrating with energy that needed someplace to go. He tried standing up and walking in circles. And I guess because my eyes were shut he decided to narrate his walking and stretching to keep me informed. That satisfied him for roughly 20 seconds. He sat back down and was clearly struggling to be alone with his own thoughts.
"Hey, friend."
I open my eyes slowly.
"Do you see that magazine next to you? Would you mind handing that to me?"
I thought, "This is good. He's seeking out an alternate source of stimulation. He can read the magazine and I can rest until my turn."
Seriously, brain... where is this optimism coming from? I've been a cynical misanthrope for like 4 years now.
He flips through a few pages. "Look at this. It's got Oprah on the cover. It's got to be good, right? They don't put Oprah on the cover unless it is good, ya know? Though she doesn't look right after losing all that weight. You know what I mean, friend?"
Well, shit.
I didn't give him a distraction, I gave him a conversation starter. Still, I kept my eyes closed in the hopes he would give up.
"Hey, friend."
Crap.
"You want to hear a joke?"
I open my eyes. I'm not getting out of this.
"Sure." as unenthusiastically as I can manage.
He proceeds to tell three jokes all strung together. All of them terrible and none of them coherent enough for me to remember. I gave him complimentary singular chuckles even though two of the punchlines didn't make sense. I think one was about accidentally eating cat food.
"Hey, friend... how'd you like my jokes?"
I jokingly replied back, "Well, you said *a* joke and that was *three* jokes. That wasn't what I agreed to."
He chuckles and I close my eyes again.
"Hey, friend."
Jesus Christ, would someone jingle their keys for this dude?
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"Do you want to hear a 'locker room' joke?"
Oh fuck me.
"I... guess?"
There was no way out of this aside from unpleasant confrontation and my energy calculation of that was much higher than just suffering through a dirty joke.
Here it is, as best as I can remember...
"So there is a pirate ship. And the captain has a beautiful daughter who has come aboard. He tells her that the crew hasn't seen a woman in a long time and they aren't safe to be around, so she should keep a razor blade 'down there.' After the voyage he assembles all of his men and instructs them to pull down their pants. Every one of them has had their dick cut off... except for one. The captain goes up to the only one with their dick intact and says, 'Thank you for not deflowering my only daughter. You should be commended for your restraint. And as a reward, I will make you my first mate.'"
I literally cannot type the punchline because it was an unintelligible noise. Basically, Mirror Froggie imitated someone without a tongue trying to speak.
Yeah. That happened.
I could not hide my disdain for this joke and I was feeling too awful to muster up any kind of response. He seemed confused by the absence of laughter from his wonderful rapey body mutilation joke.
"You get it, friend? He lost his tongue because he ate her pussy."
Yes, explaining the joke always helps... friend.
In whatever the opposite of the nick of time is, moments after this stranger said "ate her pussy"... the nurse calls Mirror Froggie in for his appointment.
I would feel relieved, but the Mounjaro side effects were getting worse and the urge to lose the remaining nutritional value from last night's dinner was increasing by the moment. I was next in line, so I was hoping Mirror Froggie didn't take up too much of the doctor's time with horrible "locker room" jokes and dubious steakhouse suggestions.
Roughly 5 minutes later the nurse calls me in to get my vitals. She weighs me and I am down another 3 pounds. That reminded me of why I was suffering this tummy tantrum. My blood pressure was perfect but my pulse was quite high. I was very anxious holding in my stomach contents and I tried to explain, but she asked me to try and relax to lower my heart rate. We compromised when I got it down to 107.
The nurse keeps forgetting that I don't really have a family anymore. And I know she has a lot of patients in and out and they probably all blend together. But she always ends up asking me questions that require me to remind her my parents are dead.
"Did your mom put up the Christmas tree yet?"
I went with, "No tree this year. Too much work."
"Aw, that's too bad. I actually got mine up early this year. You gotta put up a tree for Christmas."
Thankfully her job was done at this point and she abruptly ended the conversation.
Next up, the pee guy.
He has never actually told me what his name is so that is just what I call him in my head.
Every month I have to sacrifice my urine to the gods of Medicare so they know I am taking my meds and not selling them on the mean streets of Spanish Lake. And the pee guy always comes in to collect my sample. The little cup is kept in a white paper bag for discretion. He used to just give you a clear ziplock, and that was a little embarrassing, as everyone in the waiting room could see your pee. I definitely prefer the new white paper bag system.
It could be my lunch or some cookies or a bunch of peanuts.
Who is to know?
The pee guy is a bit of a talker as well. But the nice thing about his conversational style is that you can't get in a word edgewise. If he asks you a question, he'll even answer it for you. This requires very little effort on my part.
"Hey there, Mr. Benjermin!"
(I have noticed Ben-jer-min is a common pronunciation among Black folks in the area. Not sure if that is just a St. Louis thing or not. Perhaps I have a dialectologist follower who knows.)
I wave hello.
"How's it going, Mr. Benjermin!? Good? Good. Just gotta get your sample. Still taking the same meds? (I nod yes.) Okay, just need you to sign here. New Year's is coming up. Gotta be careful not to party too hard. You'll be regretting that. Though you don't look like a drinker to me. (I nod no.) Yeah, you're a good one. You keep it clean. Okay then, Mr. Benjermin. You're all set. Here is your new sample cup for next time."
He replaces my white paper bag with a new white paper bag and leaves the room without me saying a word. And I'm just realizing he asks me if I am a drinker quite a lot. He must sense my teetotaler spirit or something because he always assumes (correctly) that I don't drink. He's just really concerned about me partying too hard.
Finally the doctor comes in.
My doctor is kind, compassionate, and competent. The almost 3 Cs. But he's got a touch of what I call "Boomer-itis." He's on the progressive side of most things but there are a few ingrained sensibilities from that generation he didn't escape. It's mostly harmless. Though he said something sexist in front of a nurse practitioner student during my last visit that made her roll her eyes behind him.
He greets me and I tell him I'm not feeling well from the Mounjaro and that I am still recovering from my trip to Florida. He tells me that a lot of people can get sick for days from these new drugs, so getting sick for an hour or two isn't so bad. I agree, though I really wish I had not gotten sick at the exact time of this appointment. I keep eyeballing the trash can in the corner just in case things go sideways in my tummy.
He asks about my trip to Florida and I predicted that—as I already had photos ready to go on my phone. I scroll through them, showing off amazing cityscapes and mountainous clouds and an orange sunset over a lake—hoping to impress him with my photography skills to no avail. And then he sees Katrina. Now, I am not blind to her attractiveness, but I do sometimes forget how people respond when they see her next to me.
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"Oh, wow. She's beautiful!" he exclaims.
I almost felt flattered on her behalf. But then his Boomer-itis starts to kick in. And he repeats, "Yeah, she's *really* beautiful. Just a friend, you said?" His facial expression and tone of voice are like, "You poor thing, you have been friendzone'd." And probably a touch of, "She's out of your league, buddy." I don't know exactly how to describe it, but it is this familiar look of pity and worry. This is usually followed up with a probing question trying to figure out what our "deal" is. Why is it so odd to that generation that a man and woman can earnestly be just friends and perfectly content with that arrangement?
It would be the easiest thing in the world to just say, "She's gay" and that she isn't "out of my league" as she plays an entirely different sport. (Competitive Subaru Ownership?) But my friendship with Katrina is not some consolation prize due to her queerness. I shouldn't have to explain or justify why I'm "just friends" or why I'm not "being led on."
In a worried tone, "So, umm, how'd you two meet?"
There it is.
"She is an artist. I posted some of her work on my website and it was very popular and helped people find her work. She messaged me to say thank you and we were instant friends. 10 years later she's my best friend and very much like family."
Thankfully his pity face evaporated and he finally saw how long-lasting and meaningful this friendship was. But it is a weirdly common obstacle I have noticed whenever people see a fat guy has a conventionally attractive friend.
Friends are great. Friends have been more supportive and beneficial to me than any romantic entanglement I've ever had.
All of my friends are hot and queer and that's awesome.
Note to self: Put that on a t-shirt.
Knowing how difficult it was, he congratulated me on surviving the trip and we wrapped up our appointment quickly. All I have left to do is check in with his assistant, get my prescriptions sent in, and make my next appointment. I can see the finish line, but my tummy is rumbling and I am making contingency plans for the Great Upchuck of 2023™. I'm clocking trashcans with plastic liners. I'm trying to remember where the nearest restroom is. And then I look down at the little white paper bag containing my urine sample cup and think, "Last resort."
Trinica (the competence ninja and my favorite person in the office) is processing my meds and searching the calendar for next month's visit. Shelly is keeping quiet and working on her computer. I start pacing back and forth. I'm not sure what I think that will do, but I think desperation is taking over at this point.
Shelly sees me and asks, "How's that whole disability situation going for you?" She is acting like my best friend now after cursing at me on the phone. I have a feeling she had an unpleasant conversation with my doctor after that episode because she isn't this sweet and nice to anyone.
I give her the update, "Everything is submitted. My lawyer is happy with all of the records we were able to find. It's just a waiting game now. It could be a couple of months but if I have to see a judge it could be over a year."
She commiserates with me about how slow the process can be.
Then, out of fucking nowhere, Mirror Froggie reappears in the little sliding reception window like a jumpscare in a horror movie.
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Are you fucking kidding me with this guy?
"Hey Trinica, do you have a business card for the doctor? I want to recommend him to Doug."
Who the fuck is Doug? Are we supposed to know Doug? Is Doug the tongueless pussy-eating pirate who needs medical attention?
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Trinica looks in her desk and is unable to find a spare card. So she stops processing my stuff and starts hunting around the office. She has a bad leg so she is slowly limping while searching every desk. I have never wanted to strangle anyone before, but my doppeldouche was really pushing his luck.
At this point I am just staring at the little trash can in the blood-draw room. I can feel the scrambled eggs reversing course through my digestive system.
Trinica finds a fucking card for fucking Doug and fucking Mirror Froggie finally fucks off to bother people that are not me.
Trinica gets me all sorted, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas, and make to the car.
I sit in the driver's seat, and with that unearned optimism, say to myself, "I made it."
For all of you who are squeamish about bodily fluids, you can just pretend this is where the story ends. Everything was fine. I made it home and was happy and comfortable and nothing gross happened. The nausea faded away and I lived happily ever after.
The End.
Thank you for reading this and have a lovely day.
Just scroll on by to the next post!
.
.
.
Okay, so you all probably thought I was foreshadowing a monumental barf.
But foreshadowing is typically subtle. You don't want to give away the ending. Of course this was going to end in barf. The barfing was inevitable. The barf was not what I was *actually* foreshadowing at all.
Did anyone catch what it was?
You know that discrete white paper bag?
The one that could be for peanuts or maybe a sammich and definitely not my urine sample cup?
The last resort?
Look, it's all I had.
I was not going to make it home. I was not going to make it back into the bathroom. No trash bins on the horizon. Nothing in my car.
At first it was just an itty bitty baby barf. A perfect amount to be contained in a flimsy paper bag. I felt a relief wash over me.
"That's all?" still being stupidly optimistic.
But then I made that noise.
That... pre-retch noise.
That one where your head kinda juts forward and your lips make a giant O shape and you make a very specific grunting sound. That sound where if another person hears it, they involuntarily make the same specific grunting sound.
This was when I had one of those movie moments when a character knows they are about to die and they can't do anything about it. And I made this exact face as I waited for the impending doom of a vomitous explosion.
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The Great Upchuck of 2023™ commenced.
And it was... intense.
Everything inside my stomach transferred rapidly, furiously, projectile-ly into the bag of foreshadowing.
I mean, I'm pretty much convinced my stomach is a TARDIS because I do not remember ingesting that much food. This sheer volume of barf had to be coming from another dimensional plane.
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I could see it staining the sides of the bag as it was clearly not meant for this. When I finished it was barely intact—soggy, if you will. When I was absolutely sure I had ralph'd to completion, my only option was to gently place it on the passenger's side floor (sans floor mats). All I needed was for it to last 5 more minutes on the trip home and then I could dispose of it and pretend this never happened.
Physically I felt such a relief. Sometimes there is this post-puke euphoria where you just feel, well... lighter. Unburdened with no longer having that feeling. Happy it is over with.
I place the key in the ignition and head for home. As I'm driving I can't help but stare at the bag. I can see it mocking me as it changes colors. The exterior was getting... damp. If this were someone else's vomit, I would have been vomiting because of it. Just... so gross.
I get home and park the car. I walk around to the passenger side to begin the extraction process. I pull the trash can close and I have to psych myself up to deal with this horrible hurling happenstance.
And this next part, well... it would be hilarious if it weren't so damned disgusting.
I stare at the bag.
The bag stares back at me.
I take a deep breath and approach the bag.
The bag grins at me.
I gingerly grasp the very tippy-top in an effort to not touch any of the offending material.
I slowly lift up the bag.
And the very instant it reaches just enough height to do the most damage...
The bottom falls out.
If the bag had broken just as I was picking it up, the carnage would have been minimal. Only a small area to clean up. But clearly this bag read the Wikipedia page on air burst nuclear weapons. It knew you get a much more devastating blast radius if you detonate from an elevated position.
A TARDIS worth of partially digested scrambled eggs just pour and splatter and spray onto the floor of my car. It looked like the bag was puking out my puke.
The bag is now dead but I can feel its ghost laughing at me.
I stand there frozen holding the top of this evil deceased white paper bag trying and failing to process what just happened.
I realize I have no idea what to do with this situation. This is something that would usually be followed with, "MOoooOOOoooommmmm! How do I clean up vomit?"
And she would say, "You'll never do it right. I'll clean it up."
And I'd pretend to be like, "Oh no, it's my mess. I could never let you do that for me."
And she'd insist and break out her endless supply of very specific cleaning potions and magics and soon it would be as if the vomit didn't even exist.
So, I guess my question is... do I have to get my car detailed now?
The Actual End.
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133 notes · View notes
wintaerbaer · 3 months
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so eden sank to grief (knj)
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summary: He just wants to make you happy. It seems to be the one thing he can no longer give.
pairing: Namjoon x Reader
rating: sfw (but maybe tears?)
genre: established relationship au, breakup au
word count: 1.2k
warnings: HEAVY ANGST, implied infertility problems, this is just the straight-up collapse of a marriage (i'm sorry)
a/n: found this buried on my old college laptop. i wrote this for a class a decade ago and figured i'd give it the fic treatment because why not (though i'm a little wary because i think it showcases how my writing has since declined lmaooo)
MASTERLIST
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Namjoon’s never been a religious man, but when he sees you walking down the aisle towards him, he’s suddenly certain that there must be a heaven. With your eyes lit up like fireflies and your smile stretched wide across your face, you’re looking at him like he’s everything.
You look happy.
And it’s all he’s ever wanted to give you.
From where he stands he can see you tugging on your father’s arm, taking too-fast steps in that so-white dress, and he tries to project the thought that he’s not going anywhere—you don’t need to rush. Your father leans over to say something into your ear, and it must be along that same string of thought because you slow down ever so slightly, a frown momentarily dipping into the bow shape of your mouth before twisting back up into a grin even brighter than the one that came before it.
When you finally—finally—reach the alter, your father places your hand in his, and your fingers curl around each other, so warm as you turn to him with your tongue poking out from behind your teeth.
“Hey,” he whispers.
You laugh in response.
The officiant begins to talk, but all he hears is static because all he can think about is the svelte line of your body in that dress and your soft curls all pinned back and how it feels to have his hand pressed against the bare curve of your hip, tangled in white sheets, and he’s probably staring at you like a slack-jawed, lovesick fool, but he can’t really bring himself to care about any flack he might receive later.
He loves you.
You’re happy.
That’s all that matters.
The ceremony passes in a blur of sound and color, and then at last he’s kissing his wife—wedding band wrapped around his finger and the church bells ringing in his ears.
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He wakes at 2:13am, the pang in his gut becoming too much to ignore even in sleep. The weight of the day hangs around his neck like a noose, choking him until he’s gasping for air. He rolls over, finds your face on the pillow next to his. Even in sleep, your features are twisted, crumpled.
You look broken.
It makes him ache in a way that he just can’t handle at the moment, and so he swings his legs over the side of the bed and presses his feet into the carpet that’s turned pearly white from the moonlight dancing over it. It’s too good of a color—too innocent, too pure—and he curls his toes as if he could scrape it away, make it feel the pain that he feels, make it reflect the inner turmoil of his soul.
He stands and makes his way into the hall, fighting every bone, every muscle, every pore that begs him to stop—demands instead that he lay down and die. And it is too much—it really is—as he stumbles into the small bedroom and throws himself down in the middle of it.
It hurts even more in here and for some distorted reason that makes it better. Here, he can feel every welt, bruise, and contusion of his heart and somehow—somehow—giving in to the pain makes it hurt less.
And so he sits alone in the nursery, save for the pale walls and the wooden rocking horse that he had bought one summery afternoon during a useless fit of optimism. For reasons he can’t even begin to understand, he finds himself crying over that damn horse—over how it no longer has a purpose, how it’s essentially been condemned to sitting alone in this empty bedroom day after day. He winds up curled at its side, choking on great, heaving sobs that wrack his entire body.
It’s the same place where you find him in the morning.
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He’s watching film from your wedding when you come down the stairs looking absolutely striking in your sleek black dress with the matching high heels.
“What are you doing?” you ask. And still, after all these months, your voice sounds dead.
Flat.
He gestures at the television screen where the two of you are swaying on the dance floor during your reception. “Remember this?”
Your eyes flick up as you regard the image with what can only be described as complete and utter indifference—the sides of your mouth don’t twitch like they used to when you’d try to hold back a smile, nor do your eyes brighten in any way.
Simply nothing.
You don’t say a word about the homemade movie, just turn your back to him and say, “Can you zip me up?”
He gently places his hand at your waist for support, but you flinch so he pulls it back, grasps fabric instead as he glides the zipper up to the nape of your neck.
And then you’re walking away, your figure retreating into the kitchen for your purse before heading out the door, and he’s left wondering why this all went so terribly wrong—what he or you could have possibly done to deserve having the final, beautiful wisps of your past life disappear like smoke, slipping through his fingers as the two of you were sucked into a raging cataclysm of grief.
He just wants to make you happy.
It seems to be the one thing he can no longer give.
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He arrives home in a swirl of shivers and coughs, the downpour outside doing nothing to help his health nor his psyche. He kicks off his boots, flips on a light, and is greeted by what seems to be an empty house.
That’s not right.
You always get home before him.
He takes a few hesitant steps forward, the feeling of wrong wrong wrong wrapping its long fingers around his gut and squeezing and suddenly, he’s speeding around the house calling your name.
You’re not in the living room, napping on the couch with a book propped on your chest; you’re not in the kitchen, cooking dinner with the radio on; you’re not in your bedroom or the bathroom or the nursery-turned-office or the laundry room or the den.
You’re just gone.
He’s always had a feeling that this day would come, but it does nothing to suppress the flood of agony that swells up, rushes in, and drowns him as he staggers back into your bedroom. Now that he’s looking, he can see how things are different—shifted, twisted, tilted.
Your perfumes and jewelry have vanished from the dresser, the painting that you bought a few months back is no longer on the wall, and the pair of slippers that usually sit next to the bed are missing. He moves to the closet, throws it open to confirm what he already knows to be true.
Your side is empty.
He falls to his knees, the last of his composure crumbling away as he gives himself over to the earth-shattering reality that lies before him—trembling beneath the glint of gold that is your wedding ring lying solitary on the bed.
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a/n: apologies for any emotional damage. please feel free to rant at me in the replies or my inbox, and my lawyers will see to it as soon as possible. <3
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126 notes · View notes
n-s4kayaky · 3 months
Text
𝔹𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟
Pt.2 //Mrs.Crocodile
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warnings: This story is about the Cross Guild in a female version, so clearly the relationships were about Female x Female since Reader was about a woman. Sexual tension, aggression, humiliation, power dynamics, MDNI, vaginal masturbation, Oral F!receiving, use of a strap-on, body adoration, use of term Mommy
a/n: The truth is that this is my first fic with lesbian sex, I've read a lot about it, so I hope you like it and it's well done ;p
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Several weeks had passed since the Cross Guild was founded, as usual your lady would go to the meetings to talk to the other two women, and of course you would follow her and go after her like the good assistant you were to her (Not to say her loyal little pet) You would stand next to Mrs. Crocodile and keep quiet while you just filled out some paperwork, give it to your boss or many of the occasions serve her a glass of bourbon which she often needed so that her patience would not run out thanks to the clown girl, who in most of the meetings spent her time saying some stupid ideas, telling bad jokes or what bothered your wife the most, flirt with you. More than once Crocodile has grabbed Miss Buggy's head with his big hook, always pulling her from the long blue pigtails she always wore, usually you will try to calm your lady down by placing a kiss on her cheek or sitting on her large and luxurious lap, Crocodile would look at you and then throw Buggy's head across the room while he places his hand on your waist or kisses you back with more intensity. You could tell that Buggy wasn't your lady's favourite; but nevertheless Miss Mihawk was another option. He was always silent in meetings, posing elegantly and sipping a glass of luxurious wine, simply answering the odd question and contributing small ideas, not much else.You supposed that the reason why your lady put up with it was because of its refinement and intelligence compared with Buggy's, in fact, more than once your lady asked you to fill Mihawk's wine glass whenever it was empty, and so you did, walked up to her, took the bottle of old wine with great courage and filled her glass with wine, you always received a gesture of thanks from Mihawk, and on occasion he would take your hand and kiss your knuckles with some affection, leaving your cheeks the same color as the wine he loved to drink at meetings
Today, like any other day of the week, the ladies would get together and talk about their ideas, they could agree and sign papers. As you entered the room, Buggy greeted you as usual with a hug, wrapping his arms around your body and squeezing you as if you were a large stuffed animal. You finally arrived, I missed you," she said as sweetness fell from her red-painted lips. You smiled and shyly and returned his hug, you really liked Buggy, she was a tender and funny girl despite her bad jokes, the only thing that made you nervous was her flirtations towards you. Crocodile walked past you, staring at Buggy as he let out a big puff of smoke from his cigar, let out a small "Tsk" in annoyance and put his hook around your hips as he pulled you away from the clown, going straight to his usual seat while greeting Miss Mihawk with a simple nod, which returned him while you instead moved your hand in greeting towards the woman, making her look at you and a very slight smile appeared on her lips, returning the greeting elegantly. You went to stand as usual by your mistress's side; But she had different plans today with you, the hook around your waist dragged you and forced you to sit on her lap, without much resistance you accepted your seat, watching her hook land on your thighs
Today's meeting went smoothly, they talked about political terms between Mihawk and your lady, they had their agreements, they signed their papers and talked about what the Navy could deal with. Everything went smoothly, your lady was quite serene and Buggy didn't cause any problems today, what's more, it seemed to you that the woman was quieter than usual and quite nervous, you saw how most of the time in the meeting she spent her nervously rubbing her gloved fingers, which made you miss and worry. After a few hours they finished the Meeting, you got up from your lady's lap so that she could get up, as usual she put her hand on your hip and you left for the big door, you went to open the door for your lady but before you could take the handlebars Buggy spoke "W-wait! Croco-Chan… This… Can I talk to you?"Crocodile turned and looked at the woman out of the corner of his eye, as if she were nothing more than a vermin, took a drag of his cigar while arching one of his thin eyebrows "What the hell do you want clown? Whatever you want to say, you could have said it in the damn meeting," she said irritably as she let out the smoke. Buggy swallowed nervously and looked at Mrs. Crocodile as he again began to play with his fingers. It has nothing to do with the meeting." Your lady looked at him strangely as did you and Miss Mihawk. What the hell do you want?" She said abruptly, already somewhat irritated by his impatience, "I-I was thinking and well… I'd like to ask you if.. I-I don't know, it's possible that… W-what, well." She tremblingly pronounced Buggy as she now played with her two big pigtails.Mrs. Crocodile's pacency was exhausted as she massaged the bridge of her nose. What the hell do you want?! Fucking let it go!" She said tired as she bit the tip of her cigar in anger. Buggy, frightened by the scream, covered her face with both hands: "C-could you stay one night Y/N with me?!" He said as his soul almost popped out of his body at the request. You widened your eyes, expecting anything but that, and it seems that the same thing happened to your lady, being totally frozen for a few moments. After a few seconds you saw Crocodile walk straight towards Buggy's trembling body, grabbing her pigtails tightly and pulling her so that her head would detach from her body as usual, she raised her hook, making Buggy's face that was already half sobbing face to face with your lady's "Repeat what you said, clown." "B-but it's not what you think Croco-Chan for! It's having a girls' night out. And-you know! Don't hurt me please!" He said as he squeezed his eyes with tears a string of snot came out of his round red nose, meanwhile your lady bit his cigar about to break it between her white teeth "Do you think I'm going to let someone like YOU be with MY assistant just like that?! HEY?! Isn't it enough for you to see every damn day how you flirt with her like I'm not here?!" You saw how he grabbed his hair in his hand and how his big hook landed on Buggy's throat. You quickly ran over to them and grabbed your lady's arm, swallowing hard with some nervousness as you tried to reassure her "S-ma'am, please… Don't get upset… Just think about it… If you don't accept, surely Miss Buggy will accept it without question, right?" You said hurriedly as you kissed your lady's wrist and then looked at Buggy's sobbing head, which nodded quickly with tears streaming down her cheeks.
Your mistress looked at you both, first at Buggy with some disgust and then at you, letting out a slight sigh as she threw her head past her body, which quickly rose and ran to the sobbing head. The hand you grabbed from your mistress squeezed your hand and then sighed and let go gently, resting it on your waist as it turned around next to you and went to the door while grabbing your waist. He glanced sideways behind him, staring at Buggy sternly, "I'm going to think about it; But until then I don't want anything to do with you, understood?" Buggy nodded quickly and without much ado Crocodile forced you out of the room along with her, walking silently to the ship that always took you home. The ride was quite quiet, more than usual, again insisting that you sit on his lap while he smoked his cigar in silence. You, on the other hand, were a little nervous, maybe you had made your mistress even more angry and you had made some mistake, you went to open your mouth to ask but before saying a word Crocodile put his fingers on your lips, imploring silence "I don't want a sound now… I'm thinking," he said as he pushed his finger away from your lips, causing you to remain silent
After several minutes you arrived at the home, a large mansion in your mistress's name. The butlers opened the door for her and you while she still kept her hand on your hip. Upon entering the great house, Crocodile went straight to his great bedroom, opening the door for them both. The well-known sight of the large queen bed with expensive sheets, the large closet full of big-priced dresses and jackets, and the beautiful dresser with gold accents became visible to you. Without a murmur you entered as your mistress closed the door behind you, she let out a great sigh as she went to her dressing table, in which there was an ashtray, she extinguished her cigar in it. You walked over to her back and carefully grabbed the shoulder pads of her big coat, taking it off and revealing the beautiful black designer dress that no doubt accentuated your lady's curves. Crocodile walked over to the large queen bed while you made your way to his closet, carefully placing his large coat in it. He caught your attention with a simple gesture and you walked quickly towards her, his hand rested on your hips and he was moving up and down, memorizing with his fingertips your beautiful curves for her "Honey… I've been stressed for a few days… Help me as you always make my love" She said in a lustful tone and certainly tired as she said. A slight blush appeared on your soft cheeks and you nodded meekly as you felt your knees give way and fall to the floor
You knelt before your mistress, who looked at you with a slight smile and tiredness, you ran your hands over her muscular legs, slowly pulling up the skirt of her beautiful dress, revealing her luxurious stockings that stuck to her legs. You caressed the soft material, slowly moving up to her big thighs and making the material of her skirt rise until it revealed the delicate branded thong that matched her stockings that your lady wore. You could feel a small spot of moisture through her underwear, you placed your hands between her two thighs, making her open them even more for you as her hand slowly settled on your head, starting to play with your hair. You brought your mouth close to the wet area of her underwear, giving a long lick through it as you listened to your lady let out a small sigh. The taste of her fluids and the cloth stung against her tongue, making you want more from your mistress and wanting to please her. You took the elastic of her thong and slid it little by little, she helped you by lifting her butt, making it easier to take off her underwear. You removed the cloth completely, exposing your lady's beautiful pussy already wet before your eyes, you noticed how your mouth began to salivate and you brought your lips closer to her intimacy. You placed your delicate lips around her swollen clitoris, kissing it with some affection, opened your lips and let your tongue come out, giving a long lick as or sensitive organ, making your mistress tremble on you. You brought this one to your mouth, starting to suck it and letting it soak with your saliva, you felt Crocodile's fingers tangle in your hair as he stuck more of your face to his pussy. You gasped softly as you gripped her thighs tightly, letting your tongue run up and down your mistress's soaked slit until you plunged your tongue into her wet, squeaky hole, letting it soak in Crocodile's sweet fluids, a low moan escaped her lips as she lay half of her body on the mattress, leaving you more accessible to her wet and luxurious pussy. Your tongue wandered along its walls while your nose brushed against her sensitive clitoris, you closed your eyes as you concentrated on eating your mistress, moving your tongue up and down. Crocodile closed his eyes, enjoying your tongue and as your mouth gave him that pleasure he longed for, his hands played with your hair, squeezing it from time to time and getting closer to his pussy in need of your small and sweet tongue "That's honey… Use your tongue just the way Mommy likes it." She said between sighs, making you wet yourself at your mistress's praise, you gently separated your tongue from her inside, watching a small trickle of saliva mix with the fluids in her pussy, panting you landed your tongue on her clit again, licking and sucking it while your fingers began to play with her entrance, passing these through his hole and letting them soak in his juices. You pressed your fingers into her entrance and inserted them, making her moan while your tongue played with her sensitive clitoris, sucking and rolling it between your tongue. Your fingers began to scissor open, feeling your lady's rubbery, damp walls settle between your fingers and squeeze them, craving more from you. Both of your fingers pressed down on the top of her inside while your lips were still busy giving her proper attention, Crocodile's fingers tightened tightly around your hair, pulling firmly on your hair as small gasps and moans escaped from her lips
You allowed your fingers to move faster, pulling them in and out, repeatedly hitting her G-spot, causing her back to arch and her walls to tighten, being aware that she was getting closer to orgasm. You lovingly bit Crocodile's clit while your fingers dug into her pussy up to her knuckles, giving her sweet spot a hard blow. Crocodile moaned loudly as he pressed your face against his wet pussy as he cummed, you closed your eyes as you felt his walls squeeze and milk your soft fingers. After a few seconds while you let your lady catch her breath you separated yourself from her sensitive clitoris, giving her a small kiss of goodbye. You looked at the beautiful sight of your lady's pussy, as small drops of her slippery fell from your fingers which were still inside, which you gradually withdrew. You saw how your fingers were covered with its sweet essence and without hesitation you brought them to your mouth, licking them and cleaning them of any trace of moisture while you looked through your eyelashes at your lady, who was looking at you with hunger in her eyes, her well-combed hair had been disheveled during the session and a small blush decorated her scarred cheeks. Crocodile's hand was still on your head, caressing it lovingly "My sweet girl… Always being so accommodating to me."He said as he watched with delight your fingers around your lips, which you opened to let them escape, giving your lady sight of your fingers full of saliva and completely cleansed of their essence, "I think my little girl has gotten an award for taking such good care of Mommy…" He said with a purr in his voice. You squeezed your thighs, feeling how your arousal filtered through your underwear, moistening your thighs, Crocodile made a gesture with which you stood up, but not before giving him a small kiss on his thigh as a farewell. Your lady's hand rested on your cheek and you unconsciously leaned on her touch, brought her face closer to yours and kissed you passionately while her hook rested on the curve of your waist, caressing it from top to bottom. Your lips moved against each other as your lady's tongue pricked your mouth, you allowed her access, opening your lips for her as she inserted her tongue into your oral cavity, seeking your tongue and intertwining it with hers, beginning a swing between the two tongues
Your lady broke away from the kiss, watching the slight thread of saliva that connected both lips, breaking it with a smile as her good hand caressed your flushed cheek "Be my good girl and undress" Without waiting a second you began to unbutton your work blouse in front of her, letting the fabric of it fall down your shoulders to your feet, Leaving you in a bra in front of her hungry eyes, the next thing you discarded was your pencil skirt, leaving you in nothing but underwear and stockings under the watchful eye of Crocodile, who was looking at your figure, settling on your designer underwear which she had given you as most of your underwear. His hand moved from your cheek to your covered breasts, grabbing them while his thumb rested on your nipple, moving it and reveling in feeling the hardness of it "A beautiful pair that you carry today, my affection; but I'd like to see you without it" Your hands moved to close your bra, opening it and taking it off for her, exposing your beautiful tits. Crocodile's head moved closer to them, letting out a small sigh in your nipple, causing a small gasp to come out of your lips, he smiled and closed his lips around your nipple moaning at attention. His grappling hook moved between your legs, all the way up to your crotch, pressing it with the curve of his grappling hook making you moan. He pulled away from your chest and looked at his hook, now slippery with your arousal, and smiled with satisfaction, "Are we desperate, honey?" With a quick movement under the elastic of your panties, leaving your wet pussy exposed to the cold air of the room. Crocodile moved closer to your neck and kissed it as he moved you to sit on the bed, he pulled away from you as he took off the rest of his dress, letting you see his two large breasts still covered by a beautiful luxury bra "Wait for me here, I want to see you with your ass up when I come back… I want to get a good look at how wet my sweet is" Smiling, she pulled away from you, walking to the end of the room. You quickly got on as he asked, resting your chest on the soft mattress as you lifted your hips to the sky, spreading your legs and exposing your pussy
Soon Crocodile came back to you, placing a hand on your ass while you felt something prick your entrance, you quickly looked sideways and felt how you got even wetter when you saw your lady wearing the strap-on that you had used more than once on the bed. You looked at the big eight-inch dildo that hung from your mistress's hips thanks to the strap, which deliciously squeezed her large thighs. Crocodile smiled as he let the dildo poke at your wet entrance, playing with it while firmly squeezing your buttocks, "Is my girl ready for Mommy to fuck her?" She said moving his plastic head up and down your damp slit, you gasped as you nodded shyly and the next second you felt his hand grip your hair tightly, throwing your head back as it whispered in your ear "Don't listen to you, princess.." "Y-yes Mommy… Your lady smiled broadly as she let the plastic glans go in an inch, making you moan in need. Use your words honey" "P-please, Mommy me" you said looking at her needily as your hips moved gently. With a quick movement of the hips the dildo was buried deep in your pussy, making you moan as your back arched "My little slut, so needy…" Her hips collided with yours as she fully sheathed the dildo in your pussy, slowly pulling it back until it hit you again. You moaned as you let your head fall between the sheets, squeezing them tightly as you felt the fake member drag across your damp walls. Your lady's hand gripped your hips firmly, forcing you to move in the same rhythm against her, lifting your hips higher as you heard the sound of both skins colliding, creating a cacophony in the room
You moaned and closed your eyes as the dildo massaged and rhythmically entered your walls, causing them to tighten at the delicious intrusion. Your lady's nails digged into your hips, making you bounce as she started hitting your G-spot, making you moan loudly, Crocodile smiled wickedly as he began to abuse that place that made you see stars, hitting him repeatedly as he pressed his breasts against your back, bringing his lips close to your ear, Whispering in this "That feels alright baby? Do you like it when Mommy pleases your wet with your favorite toy?" I comment as she quickly slammed into your sensitive spot, making you moan loudly as your mind turned to mush to her, just babbling little Si while drooling over the luxurious sheets. Crocodile smiled in amusement as he lowered his mouth to your neck, slowly licking it, making you gasp and then screaming as his teeth dug into your soft skin. His hip banging was flawless against you, bringing the toy deeper inside you, kissing your cervix multiple times, making you see the stars as you moaned. The hand on your hip moved slowly until it found your cliroris, moaning you grabbed the sheets and scratched them while your hips had small spasms against your lady's. Your walls began to tighten around the silicone, threatening to, Crocodile could tell this from your behavior and the spasms your body was starting to have "Come on honey… That's it… for Mommy, be a good girl and." As if it were some magic trick, you let out a big moan and arched your back as you followed your mistress's orders, cumming hard around the dildo while it slowly slowed its thrusts. Your legs and hips trembled while your breathing was ragged, drool fell from the corners of your lips leaving a beautiful view for your lady. Crocodile caressed your hips as he let the dildo slowly slide out of you, making you gasp when it came out completely, leaving your pussy gaping and dripping, your lady looked at him with delight and gave a little slap to your clit, making you bounce
He moved a few inches away from your body as you listened to the sound of buckles, assuming he was taking off his strap-on. Then his hand and hook picked you up with care and affection, pulling aside the sheets and placing you on the bed, Crocodile walked away, listening to the sound of the lighter as the smell of smoke invaded your nose. A few minutes later, your lady lay down next to you, but not before gently wiping a damp cloth over your pussy, wiping it and making you jump a little with the sensation. Crocodile lay down next to you, now completely naked just like you as she smoked from her cigar, took your head and placed it gently on his chest while his hook landed on your hip. You accepted the closeness, snuggling into his chest as you closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat, relaxing with it while you closed your eyes tiredly. Before falling into a deep sleep because of the tranquility and silence of the room, your lady spoke, "I'm going to let you go with the clown." You opened your eyes at the statement and blinked as you looked at Crocodile, somewhat perplexed, "R-really?" Crocodile sighed as he reconsidered his choice, letting out a small cloud of smoke, "I know that no matter how much I tell you that you won't keep insisting like the stupid person that you are." He said, grimacing as he slapped his cigar, "Besides, I've known those two for a long time and I know they've had their eye on you… But not to do it" Your cheeks turned a deep red at her statement, You noticed your lady's fingers on your cheeks, squeezing them and forcing you to look at her "Listen to me well, I know very well what those two are up to and I know that I am not going to stop them so easily… I remind you that you are MINE, MY property, MY girl, MY pet. Got it?" She said as he looked at you possessively, making you nod quickly. She sweated and kissed your lips softly and affectionately, letting you lay your head back on his chest "Well… But I'll keep reminding you, my love…"
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octo-in-the-mainframe · 2 months
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Side Order Spoilers!!!
Okay does anyone else find it weird that Smollusk and Pearl referred to both DJ Octavio and Agent 4 as "big shots"?
And that Pearl says Agent 4 "was supposed to be such a big shot"??
And that even though pieces of their souls got sucked into the Memverse they canonically have not been seen after the events of Splatoon 2 and 3 respectively???
Knowing that characters were added to Tableturf after the DLC, namely, Pearl, Marina and Acht, I wouldn't be surprised if more characters are added later.
"But Octo, didn't Nintendo say there would only be two waves of DLC?"
Well, yes...but I have reason to believe otherwise.
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First, when announcing the two waves of DLC, yellow and blue were used for the first and second waves, but despite there being four colors used for the announcement, red and green made no further appearance.
I'm sure if Nintendo really wanted to, they could have found a way to make just the yellow and blue look nice, but they specifically added those two colors. Red, I get, that's Big Man's color, even if they don't use it much in promotional material, but GREEN?
If Nintendo were to make more DLC, three waves WOULD make sense, considering the leitmotif of threes throughout the game. It's the third game, there's 3 idols, 3 forces united as one, 3 Splatfest teams to choose from, etc.
But that still doesn't explain the fourth color. It breaks the pattern of threes and uses a color that is barely anywhere among our cast of characters, besides Marie, DJ Octavio, and maybe Callie.
And then I thought...what if it's to give us a taste of the next game? Next IS Splatoon 4, so I wouldn't put it past them for a sneak peek.
My other, and more likely idea was that it would center around Agent 4, which kind of ties in with the weird wording used for both Octavio and them. Perhaps we'll finally get to see what they've been up to, maybe even teaming up with a certain DJ?
As for the third wave...I'm not too sure. I think it might have to do with Lil' Judd and Marigold, though.
As we collect scrolls in Alterna, we get tidbits of the other characters' lives and some info on the Splatoon world itself.
But something that stood out to me is when we get to Pearl and Marina's scroll.
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It's their outfits from the DLC, clearly meant to foreshadow their next appearance. And right before that was a scroll for the Squid Sister's podcast (and that dried up squid), which lines up since their hub world was brought to the game in the first wave of DLC.
But after Pearl and Marina, it's Lil' Judd.
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Lil' Judd planning for Judd's demise.
Which has not been brought up seriously in the main game.
That...that means nothing, right? I mean, more DLC hasn't even been announced, ha-ha!!
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But then the next page is Marigold, with her many pictures crossed out, with multiple names to the same-ish face. It's secretive; does she have various clones, multiple siblings? What is she?
And then, there's also the concerning connection between her and Lil' Judd.
Marigold works at Grizzco, evidenced by her voice at the counter and her vocabulary. Lil' Judd...is in CHARGE of Grizzco now, majorly implied by the new inclusion of a headpiece on him after you finish fighting Mr. Grizz.
I think the third wave of DLC will be focusing on Lil' Judd's plans to get rid of Judd and will involve a further look into Marigold and how Grizzco operates.
I mean, we can't keep stealing Salmonid eggs forever, can we? Eventually they'll run out. This endless back and forth has resulted in Big Run's happening, so it's not out of the question that we get a resolution to this.
(I personally think Big Run will have its own version of an ending, one where whenever you play Salmon Run after it it's "in the past," so that it doesn't affect whatever the conclusion was. Otherwise, the Big Runs would likely just get worse.)
Maybe we'll get to be Neo 3 this time and learn more Salmonid lore with our Smallfry friend!!
Of course, most of these concepts are speculation, but I do want to show off one last piece of evidence that I think can be rather damning.
The roped off barrier by the Metro. (Sorry I don't have an image of it, and I don't want to use anyone else's footage.)
Only removed once the DLC trailer was shown.
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And look what we have here, as far back as the original Splatoon 3 Direct...
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Another roped off barrier in front of the arch. Not just construction, like how Splatoon always sets up new places for the next game, no. It's a barrier, with a big empty space behind it.
I always thought it was so weird we weren't allowed to go over there, and now it seems so obvious to me what Splatoon has been implying.
I don't want to get my hopes up, or anyone else's, but I'm finding it exceedingly difficult to just move past these details and pretend like they're nothing.
What about you guys? Do you also think all of this is mighty suspicious? Do you have any theories regarding more waves of DLC, and what they could possibly be? Oh, and if you have more evidence for there being four waves, please feel free to tell me in the comments or through message. (I might not see the messages, though, because mine haven't been working that well, so mostly stick to comments and reblogs.)
Lastly, I did want to ask if anyone knows what the European version of the shop for the DLC means by “It’s possible that additional DLC, not listed above will also be distributed with the Expansion Pass.” I saw somebody mention it, I don't remember what post, but I was wondering if that was just a standard description for the European page or if it was just for this DLC. I'm in the US, and mine doesn't say that. If I'm completely wrong about this fact please tell me,,,
That's all I got though!! So, buh-bye!!!!
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