#I want to punch them in the face but I also want them all to spit in my mouth ngl :/ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bitethedevil · 2 days ago

Note

If you’re taking writing prompts consider-

Raphael reacting to Tav/Durge confessing they’re in love with him

I made it a Durge because I haven't written a lot of Durge stuff (fun fact: the first longer fic I ever wrote was with a Durge warlock that had Raph as a patron, but I never released it). Raph is being a bit of a manipulative dick in this one, but what's new. Also, I'm slow as fuck at replying to my asks (especially prompts)

Love

Clack clack clack clack…clack clack clack clack…clack clack clack clack.

His office was deadly quiet except for the sound of his claws tapping on the hard mahogany of his desk, a dangerous rhythm that she knew immediately what meant the second she heard it. The rhythm echoed her heartbeat as she waited for her patron to say something. She was in trouble.

He was leaning against his desk, looking at her and keeping her in suspense. A cruel smile stretched over his face, as he saw how she was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She had defeated monsters, mindflayers, gods…even the biggest monster of them all, her father. Still, nothing made her stomach churn more than the thought of Raphael’s wrath.

The feeling humiliated her as much as it thrilled her and drew her closer to him. She had been a god in her own right with all the lives she took under Bhaal and the cult she had led in his name, but this mere cambion brought her to her knees.

She was like a moth to his fiery flames. Everything about him excited her: his cruelness, his gracious mercy at times, his power plays. He felt like home. There was something safe and known in that cruelty that drew her closer. It was something she understood the rules of.

Click clack…

“I have always questioned your loyalty,” he finally said and moved his claws up to his face to look at them as he spoke. “It is no secret that I am prone to play favorites, but perhaps I made a mistake when I took you in…”

His yellow eyes looked up at her. His comment hit her like a punch to the gut and she knew as well as him that that was the intended effect. She hated the feeling of disappointing him. She hated that she felt that way about it even more. She cleared her throat.

“What is this about?” she asked quietly.

That was the wrong question. She could see it from the way his tail flicked in irritation. She had taught herself every one of his physical cues. They were subtle sometimes, but easier to read in this form. The man had total control over his body, but the devil was just a tad less composed.

“What is this about?” he repeated his question in a smooth, even tone. “Many things, my dear.”

That was another thing she had learned: it was never just one thing. Raphael held grudges. He archived every little mistake in his head in neat files, so he could throw them in your face when you stepped out of line.

“You came crawling to me after your father spat you out, after defying me at every turn and without a crown for me. You begged me to take you in, and yet I question your devotion to my cause. You owe me a grand debt when it comes to loyalty. A debt you have not yet paid back with your services, and one that I now question if you will ever pay back if you keep associating yourself with the wrong people.”

She had wanted to give him the Crown of Karsus. She had liked him even back then. Her companions had fought her every step of the way, and with her dealing with Bhaal, she had too much on her plate to fight them on it.

“It wasn’t my choice, Raphael,” she pleaded. “You know—”

“Yes, yes,” he cut her off impatiently with a wave of his clawed hand. “I have heard all your endless excuses…and I graciously forgave you, didn’t I? You would have been a bloody stain on my carpet long ago if I had not. What I cannot forgive is disloyalty.”

“Raphael, please,” she pleaded quietly. “Just tell me what I have done. I’ll make it right.”

Another flick of his tail. His nose wrinkled and his eyes narrowed, but he quickly schooled his features back into one of indifference.

“What were you doing in Waterdeep?” he asked slowly, each word as heavy as a brick.

That was what all of this was about. She had visited Gale. Gale who had been the very reason that the Crown of Karsus did not go to Raphael. Gale and her had started out as friends, but it evolved to something more along the way. It did not work out. Gale was too perfect, too functional for her. She broke his heart, and she would be lying if she said that this fact wasn’t taken into consideration when she gave up on trying to give to the Crown of Karsus to Raphael.

“I was just visiting,” she admitted. “Nothing more.”

“Just visiting,” he repeated with a hint of venom in his voice. “Just visiting an old flame that snubbed your patron of what was rightfully his, is that right? Is he well, our dear Gale? Does his new unburdened life suit him?”

“We are friends—”

“Friends,” Raphael said with a cruel laugh. “How awfully sentimental of you, dear. How soft you have become. I remember a ruthless woman who murdered her way through Baldur’s Gate. That woman, I could have used. It seems that your father has stripped you of everything that once made you interesting.”

That comment made her furious. It made her blood boil, but then why was she on the verge of crying instead? Why did she find herself pleading instead of yelling?

“Gale and I have been through hell and back,” she said. “It doesn’t change my loyalties for you. Please, Raphael.”

“I will NOT be made to look a fool!!” he roared with a sudden fire in his eyes.

The sound boomed through his office. She flinched. His tail flicked from side to side now. He looked her up and down. It seemed to please him how she was turning pale at his words and tearing up. He returned to his calm and collected demeanor as quickly as he got angry.

“Why are you crying?” he asked without a shred of sympathy in the question.

She tried to stop, but she couldn’t. She just wanted him to understand that she was devoted to him, and that this was all a mistake. She had not meant to cross him or make him angry, but merely to visit an old friend. His nails started tapping on the table again as he waited for her to speak.

“Can’t you— can’t you see that I’m only loyal to you?” she sobbed. Clack, clack… “I made a contract with you because I wanted to work for you. I’m yours, and only yours.” Clack, clack, clack. “Can’t you see how I only want to please you? How much I love you?”

Clack.

He froze for a moment at the oddly heartfelt confession that escaped her lips. She had not meant for that to come out, but he was great at pressuring her into saying things she didn’t want to admit. It was a humiliating confession. She hated being so vulnerable and weak. She wished that she could stuff the words right back down her throat. He wasn’t supposed to know.

A smile spread over his otherwise frozen face. He looked her up and down and let out a small huff of laughter. He looked like a man who had just been handed the perfect weapon. His hand left the table and beckoned her closer with a finger.

She walked over to him, unable to look him in the eye. He tilted her head up with a claw under her chin. He towered over her in that form.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

She looked into his yellow eyes. He was smiling at her.

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” she repeated.

The humiliation in the confession was more apparent this time, and he was eating it up like it was the best meal he had had in centuries. He laughed her straight in the face.

“Oh, dear,” he said with a chuckle. “A creature of habit, aren’t you? You poor girl…”

She swallowed hard. She should have just shut up. His thumb ran over her jaw and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The touch set her aflame, despite the excruciating embarrassment she was feeling.

“Do I remind you of your dear old papa?” he asked, still smiling like the cat that got the cream. “Is that what this is about? It is always the fathers, isn’t it? Still searching for the approval of a cruel master, even now. Perhaps you haven’t changed at all, my dear…”

She kept quiet. He leaned closer as if sharing a secret. She could smell wine and tobacco on his breath. His thumb rubbed circles on her jaw.

“Tell me,” he whispered to her. “Where did your dear Gale fit into this picture? I’m awfully curious.”

Her eyes flicked to his lips for only a second, but he didn’t miss it by the way his smile widened.

There was only one acceptable answer and she prayed that she would choose the right one. She shrugged.

“He didn’t,” she said quietly.

That was the right answer from the way his smile widened.

“No, I would imagine not,” he said. “Too…boring…wasn’t he? He was not enough of a challenge for you, so you discarded him.”

There was a hint of guilt in her eyes at his words. He tutted gently and caressed her cheek.

“Who could blame you?” he cooed. “People like us won’t concern ourselves with boredom. You were right in choosing to focus on greater things. Gale was easy. Pleasing him was easy. He would not make you fight for it like I will.”

That promise made a shiver go through her. Raphael grabbed her arm and tugged her even closer, until she was standing between his legs with her chest pressed against his. His hand came to rest on her hip. He pressed his forehead against her, his nose touching hers. He was tantalizingly close.

“You are mine then, aren’t you?” he asked. “Only mine.”

She nodded. He gave a dangerous smile.

“You want to please me,” he said. “To make me happy…”

Another nod.

“You love and adore me.”

Another nod. His lips were so close she could almost taste them. His thumb was rubbing circles into her hip. His tail was flicking side to side, but not in rage. It was more like a cat that is ready to pounce on an unsuspecting prey that it had been sneaking up on for a while.

“You will write a letter to Gale Dekarios and say that you are unavailable for any future visits,” he whispered against her lips. “That you have already done plenty for him and that you never want to see him again.”

His lips brushed lightly against hers before he pulled away, stealing her breath. She chased his lips, but he only smiled and pulled away further. She knew she had to earn it.

“Go. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?” he said with a smile and let go of her.

#raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

59 notes · View notes

clairescotcoutts · 1 day ago

Text

So, about The Veilguard.

This post is:

Long.

Spoiler full.

Read at your peril.

So.

The fact that I devoured the game in virtually less than three days should speak for itself; I was worried about the playing style, I was unsure about the combo system, and having only two companions travel alongside the MC felt a little alien to me and also added to my anxiety. (Yes, I’ve played Mass Effect, yes, I’ve been in a fighting trio before, but never in Dragon Age.) I thought, “There’s only three of us?! We’re gonna die so much and so hard.”

Turns out I didn’t die so many times as I’d expected, so yay me.

I had refused to watch anything that had to do with the plot, with the exception of the trailers, because I wanted my experience to be fresh and untainted by expectations. Of course, I had hopes — but other than that, I dove in blind and without any sense of direction.

As you know, the depths of the ocean hold both horror and beauty, so here are mine; I shall start with the horrors so all the bad air is cleared out first.

My primary horror is that, save a few points, the game very clearly follows BioWare’s own canon, in which the Hero of Ferelden must have died to stop the Fifth Blight, and thus there is no Kieran. Morrigan plays a pivotal role yet again, but her presence implies that the decisions made in previous games are… well, your own, but not the world’s own. So, no Kieran, and it is heavily suggested that it was Morrigan who drank from the Vir’Abelasan. Even if she hadn’t, turns out she ends up with a piece of Mythal inside her anyway, granted by a regretful (and finally gone) Flemeth.

Story-telling wise, well, I don’t know if it was the best choice— I just know it bummed me out a bit to find some of my decisions discarded, not considered at all.

My second horror is the absence of either Hawke or Stroud. The events at Amaranthine are mentioned, but (unless I missed a codex entry) there’s no word on what happened to the brave soul left in the Fade to fight that giant monster demon. Since I always leave Stroud behind (because Alistair is and always will be a king to me), I can’t say I’m suffering to know his fate, but it would’ve been nice to confirm something.

At the end of Inquisition, Morrigan narrates that should Hawke live, they go to Weisshaupt, but soon all news from there ends. What happened?! Am I missing something found only in the comics or books?

Also what happened to the rest of the companions? What about the woman made Divine in Inquisition? Whether it’s Leliana, Cassandra or Vivienne, you’d think the Divine would have something to say about two ancient elven gods turning the world tits up.

What about the Qunari who are not part of the Antaam? Are they in agreement with Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain? Is Seheron torn asunder like Minrathous?

Why is nobody remarking on the fact that the Crows buy (or used to buy) people?! I love the Antivan Crows, I do, but one cannot forget Zevran and all he told us about them.

Those are my particular points of horror.

Now, to the rest.

Veilguard is a game that doesn’t hold back. It’s out to punch you in the guts and kick you in the feelings, and boy does it do it brilliantly. The sacrifices are real. The choices are heavy and carry weight on them that slumps you down (especially if you’re extra sensitive, like me) throughout the game. The dilemma and problems your companions face are heart wrenching, and you want them all to thrive. Yes, even the one who was hardened because you can’t bloody be in two places at once. These companions are well fleshed-out, they’re alive, they’re complex and they are so beautiful to live and travel with. The emotional moments they have, I felt them, I suffered with them, I cried. I /cried/, which had never happened to me with a videogame before. And not just because this companion is my favourite or that topic hits a bit close to home— not just that. It’s because they’re amazingly written and acted out. They feel so real.

The locations are gorgeous (I especially fell in love with Treviso), and I love how much you’re able to explore. I love that you can pet animals. I love that you can interact with the world in front of you. I /love/ that you don't miss dialogue even if you get into a fight because the companions re-start conversations now.

The NPCs? My children. Isabela is fire, as always; Antoine, Evka, Viago and Teia have my whole heart. The Mourn Watch is fascinating and the Shadow Dragons are bold, united and righteous. I really like that the Veil Jumpers don’t diss on the Dalish just because they know more— they understand that, as a people, they are one. And they’re accepting of everyone, not just elves!

I simply adore Rook as a protagonist. Not just because they give purple Hawke, and I love Hawke, but because again, they feel human and real. They know this is well above their paygrade, and they’re in way over their heads, but they still step up and lead because damn, someone has to. Iron Bull would be so proud. They are fun, they are caring, they are talkative and they know they’re drowning, but can’t afford to stop swimming.

Both in Origins and Inquisition it felt as though we were The Chosen One, even if in the latter one tried to swear it off and deny any possible divine intervention, but in DA: 2 and here, we are just people trying their best with the worst circumstances, and to me, that’s beautiful. Rook is a delightful protagonist.

The game allows you to choose who you’re going to be and /how/ you’re going to be thus. You can be cis, you can be trans, you can be neither and you can be both. No limits now.

Which leads me to another point I simply adored: how the questions of gender are treated. It’s really big to have an NB character go through their own acceptance process before our very eyes. While in Origins (and a bit in Inquisition too) you have the choice to be shocked that there are people who like their same gender, this game is Thedas saying “The world is big, the world is complex, and people everywhere are not defined by your expectations or rules. It’s not even an option. Deal with it.”

Regarding the magic, I’m not even mad it looks and feels different. After all, Dorian used to say that “the South is so charming and rustic”, and now I see that’s because what he saw in Ferelden and Orlais was not what he is used to. Even in Absolution we see that the way Tevinter used magic is distinctly unique and not how it is done south of Arlathan. I understand it. I like it. It’s not as if there had been no changes in the designs of demons and darkspawn before, and now that’s what they look like. It’s fine. Time has passed and people are allowed to make different creative choices.

Now, to Solas… Solas. Oh, Solas. I understand you so much better now.

Veilguard really helps put into perspective some bits of dialogue from previous games. Why does this 8-ball care so much about spirits and the Fade? Gods, because he /is/ them, and the Fade used to be his home. Every time he has to hear that spirits are monsters or unreal he takes it personally, and how could he not? People are saying he’s a monster, he’s not real, and nobody knows any better because they wouldn’t believe him anyway. Now I understand why he gets so worked up if you make Cole more human—you’re doing to him what Mythal did to Solas himself. You’re forcing him to be something else and Solas knows it hurts. (Also, Cole is happier as a spirit— “Thank you for helping me find this again. For believing in me. You don't know what it means”, he says, and now it hits so differently.)

I have to remark on some things I’ve read that have shocked me— first of all being the interpretation of Solas and Mythal’s relationship. Like Taash, you can assume “they were doing it”, however, I don’t think they ever loved each other like that. Their bond, to me, is that of a queen and her most loyal knight, a “king and lionheart” sort of situation if you will. Solas knows her better than anyone else, certainly, but the way I see it, that right there is his commander, inspiration and also, his heaviest shackle.

Their relationship merits another post altogether, I believe, as does Solas and Lavellan’s.

All in all, the good, to me, far outweights the bad.

Give the Veilguard a chance before you discard them, enjoy the appearance of some of the characters you love, enjoy getting to know the new heroes. Give yourself the option of having an informed opinion before you love or hate.

Also, petition for Solas to let his hair grow out again.

That's it, for now.

43 notes · View notes

andhumanslovedstories · 3 hours ago

Text

Well. Turns out she didn’t win.

I was talking to my mom on the phone this morning after my shift, and she was like, “seriously, how are YOU doing,” and I thought about this patient I worked with last night. Not even my patient, I was just answering his bed alarm while his nurse was dealing with a situation she couldn’t leave. I go to the room, and this guy is trying to get out of bed by crawling over the railings. He’s delirious, he’s confused, he’s super hard to understand, and he’s got that look you get when you’ve been very sick for a long time in a really specific way. Basically the kind of patient where you walk in the room and know that on top of whatever else brought them to the hospital, they’re also withdrawing from meth or fentanyl or both. And he super was, oh my god, this guy was withdrawing hard.

So me and a CNA, god bless her, we get him up to the bathroom like he’s trying to do and then we get him back to bed. He climbs in the wrong way, his head is pressed against the foot of the bed, he’s saying over and over that he wants something to drink, and I say to him, “while the CNA is getting you that drink, can I sit you up and get you more comfortable? Is that okay?”

And he shouts in my face, “NO, IT’S NOT FUCKING OKAY,” with this look of pure anger. It’s genuinely frightening to be stared down by someone and to know that if something goes wrong, they’re gonna try to hurt you. And I’m like “okay cool,” and I step back because he’s a spooked horse ready to kick. The CNA gets that drink, and while she helps him with that, I get him his scheduled meds that will help his withdrawal. When I come back, the patient is back in bed properly, tucked in comfortable, as the CNA holds a carton of milk so he can drink it through a straw.

That patient stayed agitated for the whole time I worked with him, but he never got violent. And he never looked at me again that way he had. He stayed pissed, but we got him to be pissed at the situation, not us, and then we worked to fix the situation.

I think about all the ways that could have gone. Stuff like that happens all the time where the margin between violent and not violent is so thin, and so determined by the smallest things. There’s a very plausible world where I got punched or the CNA got kicked and then the patient got drugged or restrained, and everyone in the situation is worse off than they’d been before. There’s a very plausible world where he didn’t get the care he needed because I was scared of him. That didn’t happen. I’m not saying we absolutely crushed it, he definitely was still in a bad way by the time I had to leave, but no one got hurt and he got his medicine and his nurse got to finish dealing with her completely unrelated emergency before she had to come deal with this potential new one.

That’s what I thought about when Mom asked me how I was doing, and I thought this Terry Pratchett quote that had been bouncing around my head all night: “You do the job that’s in front of you.” So that’s how I’m doing. Whatever all that means, that’s how I’m doing.

I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.

In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.

Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.

On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.

It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”

I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.

That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.

It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.

Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.

I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.

After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.

Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.

I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.

I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.

Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.

I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.

But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?

#b.#nursing blog

463 notes · View notes

epickiya722 · 2 days ago

Text

Sometimes, I forget that there are people who find protagonists like Izuku, Tanjiro and Yuji "boring" because "they exhibit typical shonen protagonist traits" and one of them woukd be "They're nice, they're kind, they're all sunshine".

Which, okay, have your tastes, that's fine.

But when it comes to characters who are kind and/or nice, there's layers to them.

Just because a character is nice, doesn't mean they're kind and vice versa.

A character can be the most evil one in that story and still show kindness to some people somehow. A nice character may be the one to do immoral things, Yuji being an example.

The reasons for why a character is nice and/or kind varies, too.

Some are just genuinely born that one. Some may be selective as to who they show those sides, too, because of their own morality. Maybe, a character is being kind or nice to also manipulate others. Some characters may choose to be kind because who will, despite the cruelty of the world?

Also, I feel like, even with people outside of a fandom, they hear or seen a character being nice and kind, they just stop at that and don't think they're capable of being ruthless.

Like, Tanjiro canonically has a pure soul, but multiple times he has shown he is not only a menace in a fight, but he has shown to be one in casual situations. Sometimes, he's not even aware he is because he is so nice.

Izuku, he's a sweetheart, too. But even he will just shut off that "sunshine" to literally tear into you. He has been told in canon to hold back his emotions, the most prominent one being his anger. When he's angry, go apologize!

Yuji, look, let's be real... he is sunshine and rainbows, but that boy is probably the least sweetest one out of these three examples. Hold back? Yuji don't know what that is. No, no, he really don't. I kid you not, this kid doesn't. You can't even use the fight against Junpei as one because he punched Junpei UP into a window. Had Junpei not have that shikigami, he would have gotten major injuries.

My point is!

Just because a character is kind or nice or both, it doesn't mean...

A) it's the only trait they have.

B) they're not capable of not being kind or nice.

I think some see nice and kind and associate it with being "soft" in a derogatory manner.

Which, first off, there's nothing wrong with being soft.

I'll be honest, it will sound silly (go ahead and laugh actually, I encourage it), but if you asked put a character like one of the mentioned protagonists in front of me along with their villain and asked me "who I'm more scared of" I'm pointing at the protagonist.

Listen to me. Don't let that cuteness fool you.

With a villain, I am well aware of that villain being evil and will hurt me no matter what I do.

With someone like Yuji or Tanjiro or Izuku, they look nice, they look kind but it's like you have to be careful to not to trigger them in a way to set them off. You're caught off guard but those sweet faces and then next thing you know, BOOM! You got knocked out.

If anything, as much as people like to clown on these characters, they're only just following the footsteps of the ones before them.

Just like those legends, they started from the bottom and grew stronger over time and even with being a chill person or don't want to do evil, that doesn't exempt them from being not "a sweetheart".

I said it before, but a sunshine character to me is a character who is warm but lethal, like sunlight.

#shoot if anything i say some of these protags are a little crazier than the last ones...#like I'm sorry but they do things that I'm like 'OKAY WHAT THE FUCK?'#tanjiro out here headbutting the shit of people and taking sickles through.#THAT WAS PAINFUL TO LOOK AT #izuku could have killed katsuki in that first fight or just injured him badly #his fights... he knows to hold back because of his body AND honestly because of others #like when you think about izuku did have the capability to off someone #murder just don't be on his mind #yuji... listen he can throw cars and will do it enough said #he knocked out bullies like they were curses at like 13-14 years old and looked at the last guy with a glare so chilling...#it's like watching season 0 yugi all over #cute but then boom oh i could gravely injure you ha ha #just kiya's thoughts #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #deku #itadori yuji #yuji itadori #tanjiro kamado #kamado tanjiro

39 notes · View notes

umbramoons · 2 days ago

Text

TECH MOMENTS PT. 5

The Bad Batch S1 E1: Aftermath

This one's a doozy, my friends! Enjoy 100+ bullet points and 50+ pics of our favorite clone genius!

- Running through the droids, putting an explosive on everyone he can get his hands on. ❤

- “Hey, clanker! Catch!” (This was the moment I realized that I like him. My brain did a double take, like: "Wait he's attractive.") ❤

- Kicking a droid for no reason ❤

- Walking off the battlefield like it wasn’t even hard.

- I love the little distracted wave he gives General Billaba. Everything about him is just so endearing to me.

- His voice is a little more deep and raspy than usual while he’s talking about the war ending. Gosh, I’m down so bad for this man.

- He’s the only one who doesn’t have a blaster drawn when they first approach Caleb.

- Tech is one of the ones sent to talk to the regs about what’s going on. Echo makes sense since he’s technically still a reg, too, but why Tech? Because he’s the least likely to cause a problem.

- He’s also the first one to run to talk to the regs. Taking initiative once again.

- Tech: “The regs have been ordered to execute the Jedi.”

Hunter: “What? Which Jedi?”

Tech: “All of them.” The disbelief in his voice is subtle but there.

- This is a glow-up, people (a small one since he was already pretty, but still)! Tech is gorgeous, and no one can tell me otherwise. ❤

- I love his tiny smile when he finishes explaining how long they’ve been gone.

- The disappointed look on his face when Wrecker doesn’t understand his explanation of how long they’ve been away from Kamino.

- He has the smallest smile on his face when he hears that General Grevious has been defeated.

- “Just like I said.”

- He looks so done when Wrecker punches him.

- When the clones pass by with the body of a Jedi, it’s Tech Hunter shares a look with.

- “Excuse me, trooper, what division are you from?” *gets shoved aside* “Oh. Well, they seem the same to me.” ❤

- He immediately starts working on something once he gets back to their barracks.

- All the formulas and calculations on his bunk wall… a result of his sleepless nights, I’m sure.

- I love the curious look he gives Crosshair when he says they didn’t complete every objective.

- “And my exceptional mind.” I love him an unhealthy amount.

- “My guess is we are immune to the effects of the programming.” *looks at Crosshair* “Though I can’t be one hundred percent certain of it.” He looks so. Kriffing. GORGEOUS.

- “You are more machine than man. Percentage-wise, at least.” His little reassurance to Echo at the end.

- Hunter: “This is one meeting I don’t want to miss.”

Tech: “First time for everything.”

- The way he’s just looking at his datapad throughout the meeting.

- Stepping out of line to ask Hunter what’s wrong. First of all, noticing something’s up with him. And second, it takes some serious courage to break formation like that during such an important briefing while all your superiors can clearly see you.

- “Still don’t think the regs are programmed?”

- Crosshair: “Republic, Empire, what’s the difference?”

Tech: “The systematic termination of the Jedi is a big one for me.” ❤

- “Adolescent human female. Origins... uncertain.”

- Tech’s mouth quirks up in a tiny smile when Omega says she was wondering when they’d come back. He already likes her.

- His look of surprise when he realizes Omega knows his name.

- The way he stares after Omega in wonder. ❤

- There’s this split second (right after Hunter says "everyone's talking about it) where it looks like he’s looking directly into the camera, and it’s just like, “Well hello there, sir.”

- “Hopefully not mental. Clearly, we’d never pass that.” It's okay, I'm not neurotypical either, babe.

- Leaning around Hunter to see Omega.

- “You want to sit with us? That’s never happened before.”

- He can’t stop grinning at Omega after she says she likes him and his team for not fitting in. ❤

- I love the way his expression shifts when Hunter asks where Omega’s family is. Like, "that's actually a really good point."

- The way his face instantly drops when the regs make a jab at them. At Omega. He’s used to being pushed around, but he’s not pleased to see this precious girl being mocked.

- I love the way he’s all squared up in the background of this fight.

- Calling out a warning to Echo and then running over to the clone who knocks him out. It doesn’t show it, but Tech definitely threw a punch at the guy for hurting his best friend. ❤

- “We’re more deviant than we are defective.”

- “Then we are not being reprimanded?” He’s so used to getting in trouble.

- His eye roll when Wrecker charges into battle without thinking. I thank God every day that we can always see his eyes with those goggles. ❤

- He’s not at all phased by passing through live rounds to get to Wrecker. He’d gladly walk through fire for the people he loves.

- “Wrecker, are you alright?”

- That little head shake when Hunter signals a plan to him. Like he doesn’t think it will work, but he knows they have no other option.

- Wrecker: “Aw, I hate hand signals!”

Tech: “Perhaps if you memorized them?”

Wrecker: “Why don’t you memorize them?”

Tech: “I have.”

- They’re in the middle of a battle, but he’s sitting against those barriers so casually.

- The way he stops Wrecker from crushing the droid.

- Reprogramming the droid, then choosing to ride on its shoulders like a legend. (Note that it looks like he’s the only one to specifically get an impressed reaction out of Tarkin with his performance in this simulation) ❤

- Can I also just say how impressive that was? He completely reprogrammed a hostile droid to follow his commands while under heavy fire. In less than a minute. What a man, what a legend.

- “Wrecker. Look alive.” I feel like he has the capacity to lead, he just doesn’t want to.

- Reaches out to Wrecker (who calls him buddy). “I’m -” *flops down* “not going anywhere.” ❤

- I love the way he takes a deep breath and straightens his posture for a second after Echo and Wrecker help him up.

- “There’s a fundamental difference between taking fire in battle and being used as target practice.” I love how upset he is about this. Also, he’s also backing up Wrecker’s feelings with his own here.

- None of the others make eye contact with Tarkin when he’s examining them. Tech does and practically glares at him. ❤

- I love his expression shift when Tarkin says the insurgents are Separatists. I can’t place the expression, but I love it. It’s almost like “Come on, I thought the war was over. Oh well.”

- I love his little disappointed look when Echo says he can’t crack the files. And then how he immediately offers to help.

- “That’s not going near my rack. I refuse to sleep by a projectile again.” AGAIN?!

- Tech comes right behind Hunter to exit the ship (and then leads them for a significant portion of their walk). Possibly symbolizing his position within the squad.

- Echo: “What was that?”

Tech: “You don’t want to know.” 😑

- “Easy, Wrecker. Your programming’s kicking in.” I legit laughed out loud at this when I first watched the show. ❤

- His datapad lighting up his eyes makes him look so beautiful.

- Hunter always relies on him.

- The way he instantly senses that something’s wrong when he can’t see any droids in the camp.

- “There aren’t any droids, Wrecker.” You can tell that he’s starting to get a little agitated about this situation.

- Defending both sides when others choose one.

- Tech is the first one to ease up and stand down. Almost the second he hears Hunter start talking, like he knew he was going to tell them to back off. (And his eyes look stunning in that shot when he does. They immediately soften and become non-threatening.) You can just tell how much he and Hunter respect and trust each other. ❤

- He looks so pretty in this warm light of the camp. Who am I kidding, he looks good in every lighting.

- Geeking out over Saw. (And Saw is absolutely staring him down as he does. Like, they’re having a staring contest until he’s handed a weapon to examine. I don’t like that foreshadowing.)

- I also love the look on his face when Cross says “Is that a request?” I just always love his expressions.

- The way he leans forward with the tiniest hint of concern when Saw tells them to look at the insurgents they were sent to destroy. Anyone who says Tech is emotionless hasn’t been paying attention to him at all.

- His offended look when Saw said he thought he was the smart one.

- He is absolutely GORGEOUS in that shot where Crosshair says that the war is over. He’s literally flawless, and he’s perfect.

- “At least with the Republic, we knew where we stood. Tarkin and this Empire are a whole different story.”

- He literally jerks back in surprise when Cross says that Hunter isn’t fit to lead their squad.

- The concerned and confused look on his face when Hunter brings up Omega.

- “I would not discount Omega’s insight. A state of heightened awareness is not unusual for an enhanced clone such as herself.” Standing up for Omega before he knows her that well. ❤

- “When Nala Se spoke of five clones, Tarkin assumed that meant us, but Echo’s a reg. The fifth is Omega.”

- “Well, I thought it was obvious.” Leans against the doorframe like he couldn’t care less. ❤

- That glare when Crosshair suggests leaving Omega on Kamino.

- His little breath before saying “this is unusual�� just makes him feel so alive to me.

- I love how he’s constantly glancing over and making eye contact with Crosshair. These two were so close.

- HIS BLACKS. TECH IN HIS BLACKS. Hallelujah for this scene. We wouldn’t be nearly as familiar with everyone's body types without it. Gorgeous man. Everyone likes to talk about Hunter's tiny waist, but Tech's is just as snatched.

- “Well, the mission wasn’t a total failure.” Of course he’s the first one to notice Omega. ❤

- His face is so warm and happy when he sees Omega. And then he immediately shifts to unamused at Crosshair’s complaint. ❤

- He shoots another tiny smile Omega’s way when Hunter says they were looking for her.

- “I never thought you disobeying orders was a problem.” Facts, love.

- Crosshair never directs his anger at Tech. It’s always at the others. Even if Tech does say something he doesn’t like, he doesn’t get mad until someone else expounds upon it, and then he snaps at them. Cross clearly has a favorite here.

- Cross starts shaking his head with clear distress and frustration when Wrecker says that they disobey orders all the time, and you can see that Tech notices it. He tilts his head and frowns a little bit. ❤

- The concerned look he and Echo exchange when Crosshair starts to confront Hunter again.

- He looks freaked out when the guards hit Hunter.

- Reaching out for Crosshair when they take him away. That broke my heart when I first noticed it. ❤

- The way he bounces his leg when he’s thinking hard. ❤

- “I’ve got it! Why didn’t I think of it before?”

- He talks with his hands. ❤

- Covering his mouth when Wrecker talks too loud.

- Running his fingers over the wall to see where the weak point is. ❤

- The confusion and worry on his face when Wrecker says it still didn’t work. Gorgeous, gorgeous.

- The way he glances over at Hunter (or probably the guards) before going over to help Wrecker. Ugh, he’s literally perfect.

- “Oh, yes it did.” ❤

- Bending a metal panel with his bare hands like it’s nothing. My man is strong! I love how he doesn’t follow the trope of the nerdy character being weak.

- Wrecker: “I’ll never fit through that!”

Tech shakes his head. “Astute as always, Wrecker.”

- I love the way he rolls his eyes and facepalms when Wrecker blows their cover.

- Grabbing a blaster and stunning the last conscious guard. He shoots twice, just to be sure, and carries the blaster. He’s such a boss.

- Turning to confirm the guards aren’t dead (or going to follow them) before leaving the brig.

- Tech looks so cute when he tells Wrecker to hold still.

- I love how Tech serves as the unofficial medic (with Echo’s help, of course).

- Omega: “I guess I got lucky.”

Tech: “She's not the only one.” *gestures to Wrecker without looking up* ❤

- "What's the plan, Hunter?"

- Omega: “What about your friends? Could any of them help us?”

Tech: “That would be a short list.”

- The way he leans in and smiles so brightly when Omega asks that question.

- His smile when Hunter tells him to plot a course for J-19. ❤

- I love the way he shakes his head with clear affection when Wrecker cheers this time.

#tech moments #tech tuesday #the bad batch #tbb #sw the bad batch #star wars tbb #bad batch #tbb tech #star wars #sw tbb #tech bad batch #tech tbb #bad batch tech

46 notes · View notes

lafaiette · 2 days ago

Note

Look I wanted to have a good screaming match with Solas, telling him in short, military words where he can shove his redemption (alongside with inquisitors left hand) BUT I respected him, even understood to some extended and I wanted to save him. Seba wanted to make him 'a true villain of the story' no matter what ( that one memory about sacrificing ghost???) but that's a problem I have with most characters in TV - they lack depth the previous parts offered.

I would have had no problems with the game offering the chance to antagonize Solas in a respectful manner, yes! Players in Inquisition could find ways to respect his wisdom, but not like his manners; they could punch him when they believed him to be an insufferable ass; they could become great friends with him and genuinely enjoy his company; they could romance him. That is because he was written like a compelling, multifaceted character, and those are the ones that evoke the largest number of feelings and reactions in people: rage, disgust, interest, adoration, respect.

But in Veilguard he's simply introduced as the villain. Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan are terrible, yes, worse than him, and Rook and Strife admit this, but they are relics of an old age and they can be dealt it as one would deal with a very bothersome bug that has been suddenly set free. The game implies (without holding back) that Solas is clearly the real problem Rook will have to face at the end.

The corrupted elven gods are just a temporary threat; Solas is the true villain Rook must worry about, because, as everyone reminds them, he is the elven God of Lies and Trickery, so he's definitely planning a way to escape his prison and resume his ritual.

And to convince the players of this, they heap all the sins of the world on his shoulders. Not only the creation of the Veil - with Bellara lamenting the loss of the elves' true selves and culture, entirely blaming Solas and not realizing it was necessary to free the elves from their terrible existence; but also the Titans' severed dreams and the creation of the Blight - with Davrin and especially Harding being outraged by it; Varric's death and Solas' trick on Rook to make him believe he's still alive; his constant sacrifice of people, which was alluded to in Inquisition and Trespasser, but never to these extents and with Solas showing little to no remorse, even when he uses spirits to achieve his goals. Solas, sacrificing spirits without a second thought, when he literally breaks down and leaves Skyhold for a short time to recover from the grief of losing a spirit friend in Inquisition...?

It's clear as day that Weekes wanted to go back to the version of Solas he had written for The Masked Empire, that Fen'Harel who let an entire village get killed and spared only the children, that Fen'Harel who told a noble to kill the king's other daughter to see his beloved at the funeral again. But that was a Fen'Harel that made very little sense with the Solas we find in Inquisition - too cruel, too distant from the empathetic figure who tells a boy to abandon a senseless rebellion and return to his ailing parent.

Now, clearly free from the constraints the original lead writers and creative directors had for the series, Weekes went back to that cruel Fen'Harel persona, but this cannot be reconciled with the Solas we have in Inquisition anymore. And so we are left with a character that existed only in a book, who was changed into a kinder, more sympathetic figure, only to be reduced to a villainous figure once more because... well, because the new players would never be able to engage with him otherwise. How could they, since they never talked with him when he was simply a hedge mage obsessed with spirits and Fade? How could they, when all they ever hear about him is how distant, cold, and stuck in the past he was?

#da:tv critical #dragon age spoilers #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #i will try to become a billionaire #buy bioware and their ips #rehire mary kirby laidlaw and gaider #and pay them to make the true sequel to inquisition we deserved

26 notes · View notes

unhinged-greed · 3 days ago

Text

The fact that he managed to punch Mother in the face was something he actually didn't knew would be this easy. Too bad it didn't damage her and now Mammon was hanging there by his throat, letting out heavy gasps of air.

"Y-... you fuckin' bitch" he said between his teeth, slowly reaching to take a hold on the arm that was holding him still. Mammon was ready to let out everything he got. It was a perfect time to fry Mother out once and for all. Slowly starting to recharge but he was too slow as Phil came in to save his ass from possible self ending attack.

"I'm fine, mate. . . bu' we aren't gonna survive here if we don' start swinging this bitch to the ground-... so any ideas? I can only do so little as close combat or distract her. Or well ya know... piss her off" it was Mammon's favorite thing to do, distract the enemy and annoy the living hell outta them. Many people who have been in any kind of fight with him should know this.

"I distract, ya attack with everything ya got. I'll join the attack when she gets hit?" that was the best Mammon could come up in this situation. With that he did minimize himself a little. This gave him a little speed boost which would make it less easier for getting hit directly. "Make it count. If this goes South well.. I hope my soul will haunt you forever" at this point Mammon wasn't afraid to die, no. He just wanted this all to end already. And that being said it Mammon once again poofs out of the picture, re-appearing behind Mother. Taking deep breath.

"Oi! Heavenly cunt! Ya blind or something. My perfectly rounded ass is right here" talking while starting to charge up, ready to attack if the plan goes like it should. If Mother takes an aim at Phil that is also his cue to attack. No damaging moves on this round. Only Mammon flipping bird at Mother literally telling her to fuck off.

@firstmother @mages-pandoras-box

The view of the area around them, the convergence of between one real to another, the danger that is posed by Mother and her trial from Father to the cycle. Showing the significance of their unity to display as the borders between both realms are severed, uniting them both as one realm.

Sera's attacks grows in power drawing her sword, The Dawn Light. Each hit will now count as 20% damage done.

Abilities:

Soul Eye: Judges the Soul of a participant, freezing them in place to be judged. Only usable on dying participants. Live or die, fight again?

Touch of the Decayed: Sets active participants to 20% health.

Gazing Judgement: open eyes locking onto one of the participants, alternating on whom to give disadvantage on their attacks.

Endless Cycles: Avoids the next hit, taken by another cycle.

Father's Blessing: Grants a guaranteed critical hit to a participant on their next attack, guided by Father's will. If they hit.

Complete Unification: Used.

#IC;;#Unholy Crusade #Firstmother #mages-pandoras-box

120 notes · View notes

agoldengalaxy · 14 hours ago

Text

The Many, Many, Birthdays of Stan Pines

read on Ao3

words: 4091

Stan Pines has a complicated relationship with his birthday.

Stan Pines is six. It's a beautiful day to be six.

“Ford! Ford, wake up!” He stands up on his bed, holding himself up with his hands to peek over the wooden edge of the top bunk. “It’s finally here!”

Ford’s eyes open slowly, and once they meet Stan’s, his face lights up. “Our birthday!”

Hopping down, Stan stands triumphantly, his hands on his hips as Ford climbs down the ladder a little more gracefully. “We’re finally six! The amount of fingers you got finally adds up!” He punches Ford’s arm, giggling, then holds up his hand. “High six for the coolest six year olds in the universe!”

Also giggling, Ford fumbles to put his glasses on and return the gesture. “High six!”

After a breakfast with the best cereal their mom could afford, they raced each other down to the beach, intent on spending their day outside together. They didn’t have friends, but that wouldn’t deter the Pines.

“Whoa, wait!” Ford grabbed Stan’s shoulder, who groaned in discontent, dramatically melting to the ground.

“Fooord! You’re not even it!”

“No, look, Stan!” His eyes shone in the mid-morning light, a huge grin on his face. Stan hopped to his feet to follow his gaze, finding a huge wooden swing set on the hill by Glass Shard Beach. It was new, and it was unoccupied. Two swings, as if it were made for them both.

They meet each other’s gaze, grinning giddily, tripping over each other and shoving each other to get there first. Ford takes the left swing, and Stan takes the right. They have competitions to see who could swing the highest, who could spin the chains around the most, and imagine what it would be like if they had the money to buy whatever birthday cake they wanted.

Suddenly, Ford’s standing right in front of him, shaking him. “Stan! We have to go home for dinner.” He’d been leaning against the swing’s chain, falling asleep.

He rubs his eyes roughly, and when his vision clears of black spots, his brother is there with his hand outstretched, smiling. Ford pulls him to his feet, then shoves him to the side, sprinting away. “Last one home has to take the trash out!”

“H-Hey! No fair, Sixer!” he laughs, chasing after him.

***

Stan Pines is thirteen. He’s grateful it’s the summer, but he wishes he weren’t here right now.

He sits at the kitchen table, his hands curled into fists in his lap. Whenever he’s in this situation, he likes to stare down at a mark on the old table, left from when his mother had put out a cigarette there. He thinks it looks a little bit like a boat.

“Are you listening to me, boy?” Large hands slam down on the table in front of him. Stan flinches, then drags his gaze up to look at his father. “Look at you. Making that face like some scared little girl. I thought signin’ you up for boxing would fix all that.”

This exact scene has happened many times before. No matter what he does, he’s not good enough. The boxing helped him stand up to bullies, but not to his father.

His mother grabs his arm. “Filbrick, please! Stanley’s doing his best, a-and it’s his birthday…!”

“That’s exactly the point, Caryn. He’s thirteen now. Why can’t you be more like your brother? He’s never caused trouble!” he exclaims, glancing toward the shelf in the living room, nearly overflowing with the awards he’s been winning. “Or, better yet, stop draggin’ your brother down with your stupidity! Get your damn head out of the clouds and focus for once!”

Stan’s eyes burn, but he knows if he cries now, it’ll make this way worse. He glances down at the burn mark again, mumbling through an apology, when a squeaky voice interrupts them all.

“Can Stanley help me get the work I left at school?”

Ford is standing in the doorway of the kitchen now, and Stan isn’t sure where he came from or how long he’s been standing there. Filbrick glances between the two boys, then lets out a quiet sigh, lifting a hand to dismiss them. Stan scrambles off of the chair and the twins rush out the door.

Once they’re far enough away from the house, Ford stops walking, turning to face Stan, whose shoulders are hunched. “Are you…okay?”

The words make the dam break. Tears pool in his eyes as he fruitlessly rubs them, though he knows his brother is the only one who’d never tease him for this. “Pop thinks I’m useless.”

“That’s not true,” Ford replies, placing a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “He’s just…he’s in one of his moods again. We’ll spend our birthday out of the house. Again.”

“So…you didn’t need me to get your work for you?”

“No, Stan. It’s just the only excuse I could think of to get you out of there.” He sighs, reaching into his pocket to pull out the handkerchief their mother gave him, wiping at Stan’s wet cheeks. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Sniffling, Stan doesn’t even ask where, letting his brother take him down the pathway, past the swingset that rustles with the breeze, and down to the beach where their slow progress of Stan o’ War was left. Together, they sit on the slightly-sturdy deck, cans of soda in hand. They drink in silence until Stan pipes up.

“Do you think I’m draggin’ you down, Poindexter?”

Ford blinks in surprise, then his brows furrow. “Never. You’re my best friend.”

Stan smiles slightly, running his finger along the open mouth of the can. “Eh, I guess you’re alright, too.”

Giggling, Ford punches his arm. “Hey!”

***

Stan Pines is eighteen. He’s bored.

They’ll be starting their senior year soon, which means they’re closer to finally finishing school and getting to go adventuring. But as he lay on the mostly-finished deck of the Stan o’ War , he’s left completely bored by his brother’s mumbling and writing.

“Do you have to do that today, you nerd?” Stan finally huffs, reaching for a toffee peanut. “It’s our birthday. We should be out getting ladies and partying or something.”

“Unlike you, Stan, I have a lot of classes I need to take next year. It’s really tough to organize it.”

“It’s the summer!” he groans, standing up to snatch the book out of Ford’s hands, who cries out in surprise. “This boring school-y stuff can wait. Can’t you spend some time with your best friend today?”

Ford seems unsure, but he relents and gets to his feet, brushing himself off. “No, you’re right. We only turn eighteen once, right? What should we do?”

A mischievous grin appears on Stan’s face as he walks over to the side of the boat, placing the journal down carefully. “Oh, I dunno, I thought - ” Suddenly, he screams in fake fear, which makes Ford come running. Stan’s mischievous smile grows as he pushes his brother into the water below, leaving him sputtering and gasping for breath.

“Stanley!” he shouts, his body and voice trembling with the cold ocean water. Frustratedly, he takes his glasses off, tossing them onto the ship deck. “That was unfair.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, it was just too good to pass up. You shoulda seen the look on your face. Here.” He holds his hand out, intent on pulling him back up. Ford grumbles, taking his hand, but instead of letting Stan pull him up, he yanks Stan downward. They both tumble underwater, and when they surface, they stare at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“And you should’ve seen the look on your face!”

“I guess I deserved that, huh.”

They splash each other back and forth, and Stan puts an arm around the other while they look up at the setting sun. “Happy birthday, bro.”

“Happy birthday to you too, Stan,” Ford replies with a smile, pulling away after a moment to push Stan’s head underwater.

***

Stan Pines is nineteen. He’s living out of his car.

Glancing down at his notepad, he sighs softly and crosses Illinois off the list. Onto the next, he supposes, with his next bright idea.

For dinner, he uses his last quarter to get a gumball from the corner store, and while he stands there, he glances at the payphone nearby, watching a woman using it squeal in delight as she congratulates the caller on their engagement. Stan sighs, turning his pockets inside out.

This is the first birthday they haven’t spent together. He wonders what would happen if he called. Would Ford finally believe him? Would Ford also wish him a happy birthday?

Even if he could afford the payphone, he doesn’t think he’s strong enough to use it. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he blows a large bubble with his gum and walks back to his car, turning the engine on.

“Iowa, here I come,” he mumbles, pulling out of the parking lot.

***

Stan Pines is twenty-six. They’re pounding on his door.

“Pines! Open the door, now! Don’t make me break it down!”

Stan steels himself and stands up, placing a baseball bat beside the door as he opens it. “Rico! To what do I owe this pleasure, old friend?”

The stout man scoffs, stepping inside to grab his collar and hold him close enough that he can smell the cigar smoke on his breath. “You are not my friend, amigo. Your payment. It is due today.”

“Oh, is it?” Stan feigns surprise. “Coulda sworn the last time we talked you told me it was next week.”

“Do not play games with me, Pines. You are aware of what landed me in jail next to you before, yes?” He tightened his grip. “I would do it again to you in a second.”

“Y’know, I actually don’t think we ever talked about what landed you in jail, Rico. You only ever talked to Jorge in Spanish and ignored me. By any chance, were you arrested because of the smell of cigars and bad decisions stuck to your clothes?”

Suddenly, his face explodes with pain, and Stan blinks away stars, looking at the other man with his fist raised, inches from his nose. “Now, where is my money?”

Stan coughs, shaking his head, feeling the panic travel up his chest, knowing he wouldn’t be able to reach the bat if he wanted to. “L-Look, I don’t have it, I really did think you meant next week! Today’s my birthday, just…just give me a few more days! You just got to punch me in the face. That should be enough to hold you over ‘till I can pay you back, right?”

For a few tense moments, they just stares at each other, until Rico huffs and puts him down. “I give you four days. I will not wait longer.”

Nervously, Stan brushes himself off, smiling as bright as he can as he begins nudging him out the door. “Thank you! Not to worry, you can count on me! Off you go, off you go, I’m gonna enjoy my birthday by scrounging up that money for you. Bye now!”

He slams the door shut and locks it, listening to the sound of footsteps and grumbling get further and further away. Slowly, he sinks to the floor, leaning against the door and putting his face in his hands.

There was no way he was going to call his parents. He’s tried to call Ford before and chickened out. It was time to scan as hard as he’d ever scammed before.

A normal day for Stan Pines.

***

Stan Pines is twenty-eight. He doesn’t realize it’s his birthday.

He’s been awake for who-knows-how-many-days straight. It’s been six months since Ford disappeared, and six months of trying desperately to learn how to reopen the portal that was way too complicated for him. He even manages to fake his own death completely on his own, taking his brother’s identity in the process. He wishes, more than anything, that he could have his brain, too, rather than his face.

Slowly, he shuffles toward the lever, pulling it to the side. “Surprise, surprise,” he mumbles, throwing the journal at the portal’s support beam in what he thought would be a much more impactful move. It just falls to the ground listlessly due to Stan’s complete lack of energy. “Give him back. Please.”

His knees shake as he walks to retrieve the journal. When he bends down to grab it, his vision blurs, and he falls forward, his cheek squished up against one of the yellowed pages. He tells his body to move but it doesn’t listen.

“It’s really not safe to sleep here, Stanley. Leave the portal alone.”

“Can it, Poindexter,” he mumbles, only half-aware that he’s probably hallucinating. His eyes slip shut and he doesn’t move for a long time.

***

Stan Pines is thirty-seven. The Mystery Shack is booming, and despite complaints of fraud or rip-offs, tourists still come, tourists still give him money.

He leans on the counter, telling the last customers that they should come back soon as one of the bobbleheads completely pops off. “Remember, we put the fun in no refunds!” he says after them, slamming the door shut before they can complain.

Slowly, his gaze drifts toward the vending machine. A year ago, just the buttons had been blurry, but now the whole thing was. Huffing a sigh, he rubs the back of his neck and heads upstairs to change. Once in his undershirt and boxers, he moves to the living room to watch something.

But as the movie plays, he realizes that from the armchair, he can’t see a thing. The characters and colors are all blobs, moving back and forth with their canny voices. Frustrated, Stan moves closer to sit on the floor, but after a few minutes his back aches, his eyes burn, and he can’t stand it.

Storming back to his room, he angrily pulls open the drawer and takes out a black case, holding it in his hands for a moment. He’d known his vision was going for a while and got himself checked out months ago, but even when he got the glasses, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to wear them.

Today, at thirty-seven, he can’t ignore it any longer.

He sits on the edge of his bed, opening the case. He picks up the glasses, glancing at the pair that had sat on the dresser for the last nine years. They were different enough. He’d be fine.

Pull it together, Stan, he thinks, reminded of his father insulting him for being too much of a baby. Snapping the case shut, he shoves the glasses onto his face and stands up. He draws himself up, marching himself toward the door. He intends not to look, but he can’t help it - his gaze finds his own in the mirror, and for a terribly long moment, it’s not his face in the mirror.

It’s Ford’s.

The tears start before he can even think about it. He forgets watching the movie, and sits on the edge of his bed, staring at his face in the mirror, wishing it actually was his brother staring back.

***

Stan Pines is fifty. He’s still getting used to his handyman, but he thinks he’d kill for this kid.

“Mr. Pines! Mr. Pines! I chased that woman down and got her to buy this snowglobe, dude!” Soos’ eyes are sparkling with excitement as he runs back up to the porch of the shack where Stan is standing. “And I told her no refunds!”

Chuckling heartily, Stan reaches down to ruffle the kid’s hair. “Nice work, gumdrop. You’ve come a long way.”

Soos smiles giddily. “Th-Thank you!”

“Hey, it’s almost been a year since I hired you, huh?” Stan muses, remembering it was sometime around his birthday, and that the kid was also wearing a party hat when he came by. “Isn’t it gonna be your birthday soon? What’ll you be, seven? Eight?”

Much to his surprise, Soos deflates a little at the questions. “U-Uh, no. Thirteen,” he murmurs, the quietest Stan has ever seen him.

“Whoa, why the long face there, kiddo?”

Soos plays with the hem of his shirt, sitting on one of the stairs. “I don’t like my birthday, Mr. Pines.” Stan blinks a few times, then slowly moves to sit beside him, waiting for the elaboration. “Every year, my dad promises he’ll come visit. And every year, he doesn’t.”

There’s an awkward silence for a few moments, before Stan says the only thought he has that’s child-friendly. “Whatta jerk.”

Soos lets out a non-committal huff of a laugh. “That’s what my grandma says when she thinks I’m not listening.”

“It’s true! Soos, if that guy can’t be bothered to make time for you, then he doesn’t deserve to be in your life.” Unwittingly, a shiver runs down his back. He supposes hypocrisy can be added to the long list of things he does wrong. “You can spend your birthday here, with me and your grandma. Okay?”

The kid’s big, innocent eyes shine as he looks up at him. “R-Really? You mean it, Mr. Pines?”

“I mean it.” He hesitates for a moment before putting his arm around Soos’ shoulders. “And for the record, kid, I don’t like my birthday, either. But you’re gonna be alright. You got people who love you.”

Soos leans into the hug immediately and Stan pretends not to see the tears that roll down his cheeks. “Y-You got people who love you too, dude!”

They sit in silence after that while Stan ponders if that’s actually the case for him. It sure doesn’t feel like it, but he’s glad to help this kid, even if just a little.

***

Stan Pines is fifty-nine. He’s sitting at the register, reading a newspaper, when the bell above the door rings. He looks up, and much to his surprise, a teenager is standing there, looking slightly nervous but clearly trying to hide it.

“I thought teenagers hated me,” he says, as a way to cut the tension. She looks vaguely familiar. He realizes she’s been here a couple of times with her father before. “What’s up, kid? Why the long face?”

“...My dad says I either have to go to some camp on the other side of the state or get a job. I really, really don’t want to leave my friends behind, and I’ve already been fired from, like, most of the places in town. You’re weird enough that it just might work. Are you hiring?”

Stan blinks, knowing how it feels to be sent away by your father. “...Can you scam people out of their money and/or handle a register?”

The girl smirks. “Bold interview questions, but yes, and yes. I won’t let you down.”

“Alright, you’re hired. Let’s see what you can do during today’s rush.” Stan grins, standing up and offering the stool to her. She grins and takes a seat. “What’s your name, kid?

“Wendy Corduroy,” she says, adjusting her hat, “and I’m gonna blow you away.”

Much to his surprise, she does, in fact, blow him away. By the time the tour bus leaves, she’s made more money than he expected with her smooth talking, definitely better at the conning thing than Soos ever was. She holds up her fist, and he bumps it with his own.

“You’re not so bad, Mr. Pines,” she muses as he walks her out the door at the end of the day. “Everyone thinks you’re weird, which you are, but you’re actually pretty cool, too. Thanks for the job, man. See you tomorrow!”

She smiles and heads down the path, while Stan feels a quiet warmth bubble in his chest. Maybe not all teenagers are terrible.

***

Stan Pines is sixty. Last month, he got a letter from his nephew, asking if he could take their children for the summer. He didn’t get into specifics, but it seemed like he and the wife weren’t doing very well and he didn’t want the kids to see it.

He knows he should have said no. If anyone saw what was happening in his basement, they’d kill him. But he says yes, because they’re family, and family has been what he’s been aching for.

They arrived yesterday, and thankfully it seemed that either his nephew didn’t know it was his birthday or didn’t tell the kids. They’re pleasant, of course they are, since they’re Shermie’s grandkids, but he can tell they don’t want to be here. All he can do is put them to work, keep them busy, hope they get acclimated, maybe even make them laugh. He shows them the attic and the gift shop.

They take to Soos right away. Wendy seems more or less indifferent about the kids. The day itself is a little awkward, and Stan is just relieved that they don’t know it’s his birthday to add any more awkwardness.

Adjusting his glasses, he walks past the attic door, but stops when he hears voices. He’d sent the kids to bed an hour ago, so of course he’s gonna eavesdrop.

“ - not how I wanna be spending my summer. Things are weird here. I miss Mom and Dad. And I think Great Uncle Stan is a criminal.”

“I don’t know…”

“He is! Do you see how he lies to all his customers? He’s, like, a professional conman! What if he hurts us too? I say we should escape through the window and report him to the FBI!”

There’s a quiet silence as the words hang in the air. Stan feels his heart break into a thousand pieces, mostly because he can’t even blame the kid.

A quiet rustling sound pierces the silence. “I know. We can ask the magic eight ball what to do!”

“Mabel, the magic eight ball? Seriously?”

“Has it ever wronged us before?”

A sigh. “Fine. Let’s ask it.”

“Oh, great magic eight ball, should we leave and report our great uncle to the FBI?”

Silence. Stan doesn’t breathe.

“Well, guess we’re staying!”

“Guess so. Hope we made the right choice.”

With each passing second of silence, it feels like his heart is stabbed over and over again. Finally, he forces air through his lungs, forcing himself to walk away from the door, forcing himself to make it to his room, close the door, and sit on the edge of his bed.

For most of his life, he’d felt like he had no family left. He thinks, maybe, it’s for the best. His own family didn’t want him, and now his extended family doesn’t want him.

He’s gonna have to try extra hard, but he knows how that always turns out.

He doesn’t sleep that night.

***

Stan Pines is sixty-one. It’s a beautiful day to be sixty-one.

The ocean breeze feels amazing on his skin, rustling his hair beneath his beanie. The sky is a golden orange, bringing about the new day with warmth. He’s standing on the deck of the Stan o’ War II , leaning on the railing. His memories are still jumbled, even all these months later, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so at peace.

Suddenly, the smell of coffee replaces the scent of salt, and he glances over to find Ford beside him with a fond grin, holding out a mug to him. “Good morning, Stanley.”

“Mornin’. Thanks for the joe.” He takes the mug, and they clink them together. They each take a slow sip, letting the coffee warm them. It’s quiet for a few moments, as if Ford is wondering if he should say something. Stan smiles to himself. “Happy birthday, you big nerd.”

Ford’s eyes widen, and he lets out a sort of incredulous huff of a laugh. “Y-You…you remember.”

Stan nods, putting an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Yeah, I do.”

Wasting no time, Ford leans into the side-hug, letting out a content sigh. A few more moments pass before Ford speaks again. “Happy birthday to you too, Stan.”

It had been forty-three years since he’d heard Ford say those words to him. He blinks the salt and tears out of his eyes and smiles.

Suddenly, a loud ring echoes inside the boat. Ford straightens up, adjusting his glasses with a grin. “That’s the twins. Come along.”

They walk inside their room, sitting on Stan’s bunk to answer the video call. Confetti falls in front of the camera while Dipper and Mabel scream happy birthday to their grunkles.

It’s the best birthday Stan has ever had.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #stan twins #soos ramirez #wendy corduroy #dipper pines #mabel pines #I would do anything for the stan twins #and that's a fact #my post #my writing #agoldengalaxy

29 notes · View notes

sugdenlovesdingle · 22 hours ago

Text

post US election hangover WIP Wednesday

thanks for tagging me @nisbanisba @carlos-in-glasses @captain-gillian

this whole US election mess is giving me war flashbacks to the Dutch election from last year with unfortunately a similar outcome... and the less said about that the better. I'm normally a news junkie, but today I turned off the breaking news notifications. I've had enough of things happening for now.

I'm also a big fan of sticking my head in the sand and pretending certain things don't exist so I've been writing ficlets all day - mainly for bucktommy (the brainrot is real at the moment) but here's a little something for tarlos with Judd that's been living in my drafts for a while. I don't really remember where I was going with it but maybe this will get the creative juices flowing enough to finish it.

---

“Whose face are you picturing?”

Judd looked up and saw TK leaning against one of the machines in the firehouse gym.

“My own. But I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“Ok.” TK shrugged and sat down on a bench with the weights. “I’ll just sit here and watch then.”

“You want to watch me work out?”

“No, not you. My dad is trying to convince Carlos he’s allowed to use the gym here instead of paying for the one down town.” He explained. “And I do want to watch him work out.” He grinned and winked at Judd.

“Can’t a man just work out in peace here without you making eyes at your fiancé?”

“Sorry, not today.”

Judd rolled his eyes and focused on getting a few more punches in on the bag. If he could just work through his frustrations in peace, the world would be a better place.

“Yes Carlos I’m sure. I’m the captain here and I officially give you permission. You’ll be my son in law in just a few weeks, you’re family.” Owen said, gently pushing Carlos into the gym.

“It’ll only be a few weeks. Just until the gym at the station is done. It’ll be done when we get back from our honeymoon.”

“You can just keep using it after that too, nobody here minds. And like I said, you’re family.” Owen turned him around and patted his shoulder. “Have fun.” He said and left, leaving Carlos standing in the doorway.

TK got up and walked over to him, slipping his arms around his waist.

“If dad says it’s ok, it’s ok.” He insisted. “Come on, we can work out together.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow.

“What? Here? Now?”

“Not that kind of work out. We can do that in the bunk room.” TK teased, a little too loud so Judd would overhear.

“As long as you do it on your own bed and not when I want to sleep, I don’t care.” Judd told them and turned back to the punching bag.

“You alright Judd?” Carlos asked, walking further into the gym and somewhat timidly setting up one of the treadmills.

“Judd is in a mood but he doesn’t want to talk.” TK explained, sitting back down on the weights bench.

“Judd just wants to work out in peace without some smart ass know it all bothering him.” Judd snapped but TK ignored him.

“I can go…” Carlos trailed off.

“No you’re alright. It’s your fiancé that doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.”

“I’m not doing anything! I’m just sitting here admiring my future husband in his workout clothes.”

---

tagging: anyone who wants to share something to make the sucky parts of life suck a little less today.

And also my askbox is always open for prompts! (for tarlos or bucktommy - but please no crossovers because i suck at those)

#tarlos #911 lone star #wip wednesday

27 notes · View notes

joi-me-hoi-me-noi · 3 days ago

Note

I never had any prom night :( I always wanted one and wear a pretty princess-like dress So could I ask for Shigaraki and any other mha boys making some kind of special prom night? :3 Thank you <33

A/n: Damn Anon! I’ll make sure this is equal to some of my prom nights!!! You’re gonna love it! 😊 Please enjoy! This features Shigaraki & Todoroki

SHIGARAKI Tomura -

“You’ve never been to a prom before Y/n?”

You shake your head, smiling at Toga. Shigaraki listens in as he leans against the doorway.

“I’ve never been but I always wanted to go. When it was prom night, I would watch from afar at all the dresses in the night. I wanted a big dress so bad.”

Shigaraki lifts off his mask and walks to the exit. He simply nods at you and Toga before leaving. He was thankful it was night time since it would be so much easier to get the things he needed.

You’re going to have the best prom with him and everyone else at the LOV!

He knocks on everyone’s door and lets them in on the plan. Dabi was a bit hesitant but after some bribing he said yes. You were one of Dabi's closest friends, so he didn't really need that much convincing.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Y/n, come with me to the roof. I have something important to show you."

"Okay Tomura."

You stand from your seat and follow behind him. You first thought that you were in trouble since you ate all the cookies on top of the fridge but then that thought disappeared as soon as you stepped onto the rooftop.

Little fairy lights ignited all at once when you took a step forward. 'Shigaraki' started to melt into nothing in front of you and the real Tomura Shigaraki was revealed in a suit. Along with the rest of your friends at the LOV. Tomura walks over with a dress in his arms.

"I overheard your conversation with Toga and how you never had a prom before. I took matters into my own hands and - and I got you a little something."

You were led to a dressing room by Toga who was dressed in a pink and red gown. You practically squealed when you saw what he picked out for you. He really did listen to you when you spoke.

Soon, you stepped out of the dressing room and Shigaraki was so in awe that he had to take the hand off his face.

"How do I look?"

"Terrible. Absolutely terrible."

You punch his arm and laugh. "Be so for real Tomura."

"Beautiful. I love this on you."

You spent the entire night talking, drinking and dancing with Shigaraki. It was wonderful, even as the night was coming to an end. You stand next to Tomura and smile at him before placing your hand over his.

“Thank you. This was the most fun I’ve ever had in my life.”

You push your lips softly against his CRUSTY cheek before walking back downstairs. He stands there for a moment, hand hovering over the lipstick stain and relishing in that small moment you had just then. He could feel his cheeks heat up before he also headed downstairs.

———

TODOROKI Shoto -

Shoto just overheard you when you were chatting with the rest of the girls in the common room. You looked like you were about to head to bed. You had your hair wrapped up, silk pajamas and had a pillow squished in your arms.

“I’ve never had a prom before. I’m probably not missing out.”

Some of the girls shared their input about the topic and asked questions.

“Why didn’t you have a prom?”

“I couldn’t afford a dress and I was anxious since I was the odd man out in school.”

You simply smiled and looked at the girls. Some of them looked surprised and showed pity on their faces. You waved your hands when they started to apologize.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I look at it as dress up so I probably didn’t miss out on much.”

You smile, nod at them and then stand from the couch. Shoto was buying snacks from the machine nearby when you stopped behind him.

“Hey Todoroki, you having a movie night or something?”

“Just studying. This’ll help me stay awake and focused.”

He moves to the side so you can get what you want out of the machine. You had grabbed the bag of sour candy and then bid adieu to your classmate. As soon as you entered your dorm, he kept thinking about how sad you looked. He hurried back to his dorm and wrote down ideas to make your night.

He came up with the perfect plan!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You were still awake, staring up at the ceiling and scrolling through your phone. Was that stupid prom talk getting to you?

“Ughhh.” You push a pillow into your face as you sit up from your comfortable position.

Just as you remove the pillow, a knock sounds on your door. You checked your phone and saw it was 2 in the morning. You get up and mope toward your door. You open it and no one is there.

You look down at the floor and see a box of shoes and- is that a dress? You pick up the two items and then you see the note. You read it in your head and smile to yourself.

“Guess I’m getting ready.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

After getting ready, you hear a noise from your balcony. You decide to check it out in case it was something serious. You pull back your curtain and look at the ice slide leading to a big patch of ice. You let out a “fuck it” and slide down to meet face to face with Todoroki… in a suit.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Thank you for the dress, I love it.”

“I had a feeling you would.”

He holds out his hand to you and you place your hand in his. He quickly clicks a button on his phone before tossing it to the side. A slow song starts playing and you both rock to the rhythm.

“As a person who’s also never had a prom before, I had to ask my mom about specific details that she remembers.”

He spins you around and goes back to rocking with the rhythm. As a crescendo sounds in the song, bright twinkles form in the sky. He can’t help but look at your facial expression of awe.

“You certainly outdid yourself.” You laugh.

“I couldn’t get everything done that my mom had mentioned in this much time. Only the things she remembered significantly. For example…”

He picks you up and spins you around in his arms. You squeal and laugh in excitement at this. He smiling softly at you, even as he slowly lowers you to the ground. Your arms are around his neck and his are around your waist.

“Did she mention something like…this?”

You lean in and connect your lips in a sweet and gentle kiss. You could feel his left side heating up and his right trying to cool his body down. It was such a nice sensation. You didn’t even want to move away.

You wanted to stay just a little while longer.

———————

A/n: that’s it! Thank you so much! Please think about requesting when you leave! Byeeee!

27 notes · View notes

mee3pp · 8 hours ago

Text

farm house pt 7

I apologise this one is a bit of a short one <3

cw: talking about sex, swearing, almost physical altercation between father and daughter

Johnny is very rudely awoken to the sounds of arguing in the kitchen down stairs. Surely he shouldn’t be able to hear that far but the house is old and not super full of stuff. He stands up out of.. Bed? Oh… his better kiss his crown jewels goodbye because he’s woken up in your bed. He chucks on some clothes before going down stairs to figure out who is arguing.

Johnny is met by a rather interesting sight. You and Price are practically toe to toe as you argue. “I am a fully grown 28 year old woman. If I want to have a half naked drunk man in my bed that I trust I can” you growl at Price it’s almost scary how much you sound like him. “I’m aware you are grown but it doesn’t give you the right to go sneakin’ around with a man i very clearly told you to stay away from” Price huffs back. If Johnny didn’t know his Captain like the back of his hand he’d say Price is about to get into a physical fight with his own daughter over him. “Bull shite! I can do whatever the fuck i want and i ain’t sneakin’ around with Johnny we simply fell asleep together in my bed” You snarl pointing a finger in your fathers face.

“With basically no clothes on” Price says clenching his fists which raises the concern of all the bystanders being Ghost, Maybel, Gaz and of course the problem himself Johnny. “So? I could be butt ass naked and it still wouldn’t matter! Becuase i ain’t fuckin him. I haven’t even kiss him” You growl out breathily also clenching your fists. Simon is about to step in when you shoot him a look and he backs down immediately. “Do i need to remind you this is MY house?That I paid for.” You add which makes Price more angry as you’ve now embarrassed him. “No. I am well aware this is your house but Soap is my man, my soldier. I gave him direct orders and you willingly helped him disobey them” Price huffs and you step closer.

It looks at any minute that one of you is going to swing, which wouldn’t be surprising. Sure the Price family is known for patients when it came to others but when it came to family that was thrown out the window. This wouldn’t be the first time you both have been close to punching each other, but the feeling is always mutual. “I can do whatever the fuck i want! If i want to help some stupidly good lookin’ man disobey orders then God help me i will” You growl clenching your fists so tight your knuckles turn white and you and your father both raise your fists slightly just to your waists so Simon decides it’s time to step in. “enough both of you. John go take a walk and have a smoke” Simon orders Price knows he’s serious as he never calls Price John unless he means something. So reluctantly Price walks away outside to have a smoke leaving you frustrated and wanting to kill or hit someone preferably your father. Then you zero in on Johnny and it makes your anger simmer down a little. “Ya lucky ya pretty” You jab a finger at him before tugging on your work boots and heading outside to move some hay to take out your frustrations.

“Hey Barbie” you huff as you pat your livestock guardian Barbie on the side. You get stuck into moving some hay for your first flock of sheep giving them two small bales to eat, you check the progress of the lambs tails to see if they are ready to be docked yet. Before you know it Simon has snuck up on you and is leaning on your tractor as you move hay. “What?” you huff. “Good work on not punchin’ your old man” Simon chuckles which earns a glare from you. “You should’ve let me” you huff again. “No can do, need him in workin’ condition. Gettin’ pretty heated over ol’ Johnny” Simon teases “If i was you i wouldn’t put up that much of a fight he ain’t that pretty” You roll your eyes at Simon but you can’t help but crack a small smile. “Soooo did ya sneak off with Maybel last night?” You say poking his arm and he grunts. “Do I have to tell ya?” He groans “oh come on i’ll find out sooner or later” you grin grateful for the distraction. “Fine. yes i did ‘sneak off’ with Maybel” He begrudgingly huffs. “Is little Simon satisfied?” You tease and he scowls “please never call my dick little Simon ever again” which earns a chuckle from you “was it everything you hoped for and more?” you pry more. “I'm not answering that”

“I thought he was going to split me open girl!” Maybel giggles as you both sit outside on your deck with coffee. You listen intently as Maybel tells you about her encounter with Simon. “He’s huge.. Like i mean i seriously don’t think it’s humanly possible” She adds to which you scrunch up your nose with a chuckle. “Eugh, I don't need to know that! That’s like you tellin’ me my brothers exact measurements” You joke as Maybel proceeds to act out how big not so ‘little Simon’ is with her hands. “It was good though, everything I was dreaming of.. Although he was gentler then I imagined” she hums before taking a sip of her coffee with a content smile.

tag list:

@tabbslouuformer

@thepowers-kat-be

@amberpanda99

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader

20 notes · View notes

struwberrii · 12 hours ago

Text

chapter 2 : dreamy desserts ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

masterlist

you put your phone down and practically scream into your pillow. so many thoughts were racing through your mind. what if they don’t like your baking? what if they laugh in your face? what if they think your bakery is ugly?

you toss and turn in bed, trying to sleep. all you could think about was that suna. what was he thinking now that osamu had asked him about the whole situation. you know it’s really not a big deal, but you still want to punch osamu in the face for this. after another hour of tossing and turning, you ended up drifting off….

you woke up a bit earlier than your alarm, and the second you entered the land of the living again, all of last nights events hit you again. instead of sitting in your room sulking about it, you decided to get ready, taking extra time to pick out an outfit and to style your hair nicely. then you made your way downstairs and started working on some new pastries for your display case.

you look up after a few minutes after hearing a bang on your door. a bit annoyed you look up ready to shoo the pedestrian away, but instead a familiar face catches your eye. mr onigiri miya himself. a bit confused you make your way over to let him in.

“osamu? what are you doing?” “what’re YOU doing up so early bakin’?” he argues back, pulling up a chair to sit down and watch you head back to the kitchen. “i just figured i’d get up early and fill up some of these display cases” “with your hair and makeup done all nice?” he laughs, making you question your appearance, did you possibly go too far? “what do you mean?” you questioned “nothin’, you look cute though, special occasion or somethin’?” his worlds catch you off guard for a moment but you quickly brushed him off, finishing up some cookie batter. “nothings going on, i just wanted to dress up today” you shrug, still focusing on your baking.

“yer not dressed up for tsumu’ and sunarin visiting’, are ya?” osamu says slyly, catching you off guard. you were so off guard you accidentally dropped your entire container of sugar into your batter. this reaction practically confirmed samus suspicion.

before you even get the chance to argue, osamu speaks up “don’t tell me yet’ tryna impress my brother now, i’m way better than that goof” osamu says light heartedly smirking at you, in response you only scrunch your face up a bit and shake your head no.

“so tsumu was right… for once… ya’ like sunarin, don’t cha?” to this you put down all your baking supplies and give osamu your full attention “no, i do not like ‘sunarin’, i hardly even know the guy” you roll your eyes. you would be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive though, but now doesn’t seem like the best time to admit that to osamu, who’s already been teasing you this entire time.

“geez sorry for askin’” he says defensively throwing his arms up in a surrendering motion. maybe your response was a bit rude. “hey here’s an idea!” osamu exclaimed, catching your attention once again. “let me buy you s’more sugar, since, y’know” he said motioning to the giant mountain of sugar piled in your mixing bowl. “that would be nice, but i buy a certain kind of sugar from a store pretty far from here” you admit, thinking he wouldn’t want to make that journey just for you. “how far, we don’t open fer another 2 hours, i might have time”

“s’ 30 minute drive”

“right, that’s fine, gonna go grab my jacket”

“wait! i’m coming too, just so you buy the right one” you grab your coat from the back room and run after him across the street. he grabs his car key and locks up shop. you make the treacherous journey up the street to the parking garage osamu parks in and slide into the passenger seat next to him.

“what’s so special bout’ this sugar that ya gotta drive 30 minutes to buy it for?” osamu questions. “i buy it in bulk there, also i’ve always bought all my baking equipment from that store, id feel bad betraying them like that” you frown fastening your seatbelt.

the car ride is pretty quiet for the most part, though it’s a comfortable silence. osamu’s radio also fills some of the silence. he gets to the baking supplies store and buys your sugar quickly before you both head back to your respective shops.

“thank you so much osamu! i’m sorry i made you go through all the trouble of driving out and paying” you say apologetically. “if i didn’t want to i wouldna done it for ya” he smiles, hauling the bag of sugar onto your counter for you. “i’ll swing by later with some of the guys, see ya soon, y/n” osamu waves, grabbing a macaroon on his way out.

you almost forgot about that while hanging out with osamu, you were gonna have to see suna again today, and now it looks like you went overboard with the hair and outfit you chose. so many thoughts ran through your head until one of your opening employees walking in snapped you back into reality. “morning, y/n!” she cheered grabbing an apron and making her way behind the counter to clock in. “good morning!” you say back continuing readying the shop for opening.

the day went by surprisingly quick, short conversations with your regulars, your favorite songs playing through the shops speakers, taste testing some of your employees new recipes, same old same old, not that you’re complaining. eventually it hits around 6 pm and you wonder when osamu and his friends were going to show up. you settled on not asking, since you didn’t want to seem desperate to see that guy again, but you were still curious, and honestly at this point a little bored. you decided to text your groupchat and fill them in on the lore they missed.

you put your phone down on the counter and head back to the front of the store. the sun is starting to set and you close in a little over 2 hours. maybe those guys weren’t coming by at all and you just got all worked up and embarrassed for nothing. just as you start to calm down, you hear the door swing open, followed by a familiar laugh.

osamu, atsumu, suna and another guy you hadn’t seen before. all you could do was awkwardly smile at them. this shouldn’t be a big deal, it’s just suna, it’s just like dealing with any other customer, you tell yourself. if it’s just like dealing with any other customer, why are your hands getting all sweaty, and why does your throat feel so dry, why do you feel so… embarrassed?

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

tag list :P (comment to be tagged on the next story:)

@iluv-ace

26 notes · View notes

3gremlins · 2 days ago

Text

feel like im having a DA2 experience again where I really liked it and was in my little "this is good" cocoon where i played it many times only to emerge from underground and find everyone else hated it (i mean ive found the other da2 cicadas since but at the time it got really slammed). i've been really enjoying DA:TV so far ( lol tho obvs have notes) here's an early thoughts review, may be a bit spoilery, def rambley, trying to stay vague on stuff still (i think i'm about half way maybe? im trying to not look things up and doing it blind on my first run through. it's hard to tell b/c i went hard on all the side quests and am now way over level for the msq)

the combat system is a little jarring at first and i still miss at least being able to switch to and play as party members if your character dies (instead of the god of war style of full wipe), but i've gotten used to it (it's more annoying for boss fights, regular combat it's very zippy and fun). the targeting at least on controller is kind of annoying sometimes- i'll think i'm pointing at one enemy only to have rook turn and fire at nothing or companions to hit an add instead of a boss. I wish we at least had more control over how it queued who it was hitting. some of the arenas are obnoxious design wise - there's bosses that teleport to you and they give you like a tiny little box to dodge around, not the most fun. i do like that you can punch way above of your weight class sometimes which reminds me of DAO a little bit (like how you'd just wander into a fight or hit a gong and be like oh no, those enemies have skulls over their heads, oh well YOLO). sometimes it doesn't work out but when it does it's very satisfying. It's nice to be able to conquer something mechanically even underleveled (smol fromsoft vibes) Having always been a big fan of the strange composition parties (i.e not just war/rogue/mage), i like that this is now even more viable (and not just me being cheeky "we're having a leather party!" of all squishy rogues). but like the main thing about bioware games is the companions/interpersonal shit and i'm enjoying the heck out of that .i only do main quests to get more side quests from companions (or more side quests in general so we can troll around for more banter). i like petting griffons (and cats and dogs) and playing games with manfred*. I wish the gift system was more interesting like DAO or DA2- i was so excited to see it again and then it was a little disappointing to have them barely react when you get them stuff.

my current fave party are rook and the poison boys (emmerich and lucanis) since they're a rogue too and we just stack necrosis, bleeds and other elemental effects on things till they disintegrate. i like the lighthouse, it feels much cozier than skyhold. I love that you can just wander up to companions having convos and awkwardly eavesdrop. I do miss the little interactions/quests you could get with cole esp*** i think the animations are a little lack lustery? Idk there's something with the face model morphs that sometimes feels weird but the voice acting is strong enough that I don't notice too much. i do miss some of the more bioware-y cheeky things like item descriptions or weird notes near random silly environmental tableaus (there's a little but i just want to read all the notes! there's some in the grey warden areas where i was just like WAIT I HAVE QUESTIONS but there was no plaque about them T.T). where are the stacks of cheese (i do appreciate the fereldens love cheese jokes tho and harding getting so excited when someone says something nice about ferelden) i was esp bummed that there were no random things to read in the black emporium and it's all codex entries instead (that's my favorite tiny bit in DA2 where there's junk you can click on and xenon says weird shit to you). i also wish more had been done with accents of npcs- like i wish all the antivans had similar accents or your crow rook had an antivan accent, stuff like that (having a lot of "ferelden" generic british accents everywhere is disappointing. takes you out of the immersion a lot) My biggest gripe is probably the pacing - I wish it had more horror/mystery pacing like dao and da2 had- the reason we're all scarred by the brood mother is b/c the build up to that was so so creepy (also the necromancer bit w/hawke's mum in DA2). They gave us time to be unnerved or afraid and I do feel the evanuris reveals have been a little rushed so you can't really feel that worried about them (some of the side quests get close to this but still not quite there**). I wish they'd let them breathe a bit more instead of rushing from one giant world changing event to the next. Some of the reveals have been not so great- like lore that the fandom has poured over for 15ish years explained in one line?? i wish there'd been more build up of rook as a character too, maybe even a time skip from a prologue to finding solas kind of thing. the first trailer made it seem like that's what was going to happen but then it in media res'd us in a strange way. the first 10 hours of the game are probably the weakest imho, it took it a bit to get rolling and feel more natural. I appreciate that the first major decision doesn't really let you scum save for it (bit of a jump scare for me lol).

I also don't really need this much varric anymore, i kinda wish we had a different narrator if we have to have one. He feels really awkward to just have there and not doing anything(and not just kill off or have something happen to him? he got stabbed by the dagger and harding only touched it is what i'm saying). at least let him get better pjs and slippers or something Idk it does feel like bits of previous iterations they were working on are still there and they don't completely serve the plot well. And ofc there's the decisions not meaningfully carrying over thing- which is a huge bummer. But in reality they've never been good at that- the characters from previous games we see in new games don't really carry through their plots/arcs that much (it's more like cameos or they're a new person now) and the world states are usually effectively the same just with aesthetic faction swaps. I was sort of hoping we'd get some solavellan SOMETHING but it doesn't look like we will get much at all past the stuff in minrathous. i feel like if they were going to only include the one choice it really should have had more impact on the story. (i am also still a clown and want to talk to solas constantly still even tho he has no reason to talk to my rook at all, i do not care, i love a sad woof. i wish we could just casually visit him in the fade. i wish we could switch to lavellan and visit him in the fade, idk something. need more gareth david-lloyd pls) the interpersonal character decisions have been the only ones that mattered much and then only within the constrains of their own games- the bigger world changing stuff is usually the illusion of choice. It would have been nice if they let us have one protagonist carry through but i can also see why they liked changing it up and felt stuck in that format. tl;dr: i'm really like it for what it is but it's def got flaws. Parts of it feel super polished while other bits do not- i think knowing how game dev works that they had to make decisions on what was going to get prioritized and some of it works while others not so much. I wish the pacing was better for sure but i love the characters/companions which is generally what bioware is best at. sad it won't get meaningful dlc, i don't really care about mass effect 5 tbqh. So far I like it better than inquisition for the most part- it feels like a bigger/more polished DA2 in a lot of ways if that makes any sense (with similar budget/pacing issues, but the environments are more fun). as i mentioned in my other post, i really appreciated the trans/non binary inclusion into the story/cc tho. like that can't be discounted, even if the rest of the game has issues. (all the holes in the narrative make me want to do fan art and fan fiction tho so idk, maybe that's an okay thing. maybe dragon age is best at inspiring us to sandbox around in it)

*side note, i am surprised at how much i like emmerich like holy shit what a lovely soft nerd of a man! going to have to play through a few times and romance him and also bellara for sure (romancing lucanis this time round) i find myself shipping my companions with each other more than i normally do too. I just want them to be happy! I wish they'd let us have polyamory, like i could see little polycules in this squad so easily. i need to give bellara hugs and lucanis head pats. taash deserves head pats too, but my rook will need a ladder.

**i am going to cry if they do with the griffons what i think they're doing with the griffons. like straight up, feeling like it was a cursed wish to have them now T.T *** do we think the caretaker is cole? the character design makes me wonder (like the hat/silhouette is very cole like but maybe not. maybe i just want it to be cole lol) there's def characters i want to see show up that aren't going to and then bioware is like "what about this fan favorite??" and i'm like "eh".

22 notes · View notes

sapphic-agent · 3 days ago

Note

I think one of the biggest Chekhov's guns in the entirety of bnha is the fact that the League got to where it is thanks to Stain even though Stain was never part of the League of Villains.

The League's reputation is built off a lie that the organization wants to take down fake heroes and right the wrong in the corrupt hero society because people assume Stain was a member of the League when the actual goals of the League are far more simplistic, one-dimensional and selfish than Stain's. All Shigaraki wants is to lash out and mindlessly destroy everything in his path and All For One the actual mastermind behind the League is using the organization as a vehicle to retrieve his brother's quirk and rule over Japan like he did before All Might punched his face off.

In my opinion, the perfect moment when this could have been revealed was after AFO broke out of prison and in order to isolate Shigaraki, so none of his friends interfere with or try to stop the merger, AFO shows them a video caught on camera of Stain and Shigaraki's interaction in the bar. Immediately shattering the bonds formed within the League in his absence by showing them that Shigaraki had been lying to them the entire time with no intention of telling the truth to them. AFO would add salt to the wound and say that Shigaraki never cared or even thought about heteromorph discrimination, quirk marriages, heroes abusing their family, quirk discrimination or the bogus quirk counselling system.

I feel like Spinner and Toga would take this the worst.

Sorry if this sounds like I'm putting Stain on a pedestal. I'm not really a big fan of him and don't think he's as complex as Horikoshi wanted us to belive at the time of the Stain arc.

Please don't apologize, I love Stain! And sorry I got to this so late. I wanted to answer it carefully.

I've touched on this lightly before, but there's a certain... disparity when it comes to Stain and the LOV. That is, that Horikoshi tends to ignore that he's the reason Dabi and Toga joined. I've made a few posts on the regression of their characters during the progression of the series and apart of that is Horikoshi completely casting aside what Stain said.

Stain claims hero society is corrupt, but has no credence to this other than the fact that he claims Izuku and All Might as true heroes. We, the audience, know he must be at least partly right, but in-universe he's made out to be an extremist because he never went after, say, Endeavor or the HPSC (you could include Hawks as part of this if you wanted).

This is a repeated issue with Horikoshi not supporting his own thesis within his story. Quirkless people are a minority and born "unequal," but we never see anyone suffer the ramifications of this outside of Izuku. The HPSC is rearing literal child assassins but we're gonna have the main victim of this continue to support and work for them (oh and he also idolizes an abuser despite having an abusive parent). The students are struggling with being constantly attacked by villains, but we're gonna ignore their trauma with a festival! Oh, and then we're gonna send them to war. A top hero was revealed to be an abuser and sex trafficker but it's fine because nearly all of his colleagues and victims support him.

Horikoshi refuses to dive deeper (or at all) into these themes. I don't know if it's because he's simply unequipped to handle them or if going into these things will make his favorites (Aizawa, Bakugou, Endeavor) look bad.

Where am I going with this?

Horikoshi refusing to actually address these things means that the characters centered around them- Stain, Dabi, Toga, Spinner, Hawks, Izuku, etc.- lose complexity. Their stories aren't being supported by the narrative that introduced them.

So it doesn't matter that the LOV wasn't actually aligned with Stain because- at least for Toga and Dabi- Stain isn't as big a part of their characters as he previously was. Dabi's goals completely pivoted from what they were established to be and Toga was simplified a lot as a character.

(Twice's death was a great opportunity for Toga to revisit Stain. Where she differs from Dabi is that she idolized Stain because she felt a kinship with him due to their quirks. For someone who was shunned for her quirk, she joined the LOV simply to find others like her. Twice's death could have been the moment she really started to understand what he stood for. But Horikoshi can't be bothered)

Spinner is a little different because he does seem to still carry Stain's ideals, but in my honest opinion you could say that he completely lost sight of them. The shift to idolizing Shigaraki can be seen as symbolic of his ideals being completely skewed from what they once were. Which could have been a fine descent arc, but the execution wasn't done well.

My point is, even if it was revealed, the LOV were so regressed from how they were introduced that I doubt it would have mattered. Dabi wouldn't care (which honestly would have been true either way because he clocked that Shigaraki had no plan from the very beginning), Toga never really understood Stain in the first place, and Spinner lost sight of what Stain stood for

#mha critical #bnha critical #stain mha #lov critical #league of villains critical #horikoshi critical #ask

20 notes · View notes