#also this map is so pretty! i never appreciated it before | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jolalibrary · 1 year ago

Text

you should be my only girl

joel miller x f!reader

gif credit to @perotovar

summary: in many ways, Joel is aware that you’re too good, too lovely. it has become the reason why he wants to give you nothing but pleasure, in the hope it’ll be enough to smother the pain he knows he must inflict.

word count: 1.6k warnings: smut in the back of a car from joel - cunnilingus, fingering. dedication: happy birthday to the wonderful @thetriumphantpanda - i hope joel remembering makes you smile. an: huge thank you to @swiftispunk for giving me the boost to post and to @perotovar for letting me use their beautiful gif, thank you so much!

You’re like a drug.

More addicting than the little out-of-date off-white pills that douse pain, memories and more. Woven deep within him; infused inside his muscles and bones.

One day, never there, and the next, you’re hacking away, cutting through him, digging out a space and sitting yourself inside it. Waiting, tapping—whispering like a siren until his resolve cracks and his palms are on either side of your face, kissing you gently. Far more gently than he assumes this new world allows, but he does so all the same.

Because you’re treasure, a spot marked X that he found without a map. He had tried to fight falling for you, but here he is all the same—having jumped and found he hadn’t met an untimely end.

In many ways, Joel is aware that you’re too good, too lovely. You’re a heart of gold and a fist of fury; you’re dirt-covered, scarlet-soaked, yet you’re also the brightest, shiniest thing he’s had in a long time.

Your tongue may be laced with poison, your exterior hardened with the current times, but he sees the embers of the person that once was. The one that appears when the sun sets and rain peppers against the glass of his place.

You see him, and he sees you.

The loss you both carry suddenly lightened, one of them lifting it for the other on the more challenging days. No questions asked, just a nod, an understanding.

Most mornings, when he wakes and your arm is around his waist, Joel has to pinch himself. His hand sliding over yours, fingers tracing your knuckles—doing an array of shapes until he hears your breathing change. It’s only ever then that he turns to face you, to watch in wonder as your lashes flutter and bask him in sunlight and care.

Today, Joel finds he has to pinch himself differently when he has you like this. The truck door yanked open, you placing yourself on the backseat of it. The vehicle itself is all covered in wilted vines and decades of dust, not that either of you care. You’re atop cracked leather, engulfed in fusty air that’s desperate to escape and be renewed, but you just look at him dutifully.

Having followed his instruction, his whisper as the two of you admired your handiworks.

In general, you make him soft, but you also make him hard. The latter more present currently as his hands spread your thighs, hooking around them to pull you to the edge of the seat—perched, waiting, core glistening with want as your jeans remain abandoned at his feet. His finger brushes over the little thin fabric stretched beyond belief at your ankles—the sun's glow piercing through the dirt-covered sunroom, casting you in enough of a sheen to highlight the muck and sweat on your collarbone and forehead.

But you’re still a vision.

It’s why he likes having you like this, lay out for him—all prettiness in a sea of ruin.

Words that are so similar fall easily from his mouth before he licks a stripe.

Usually, he’d take his time and earn himself a couple of O’s before he cashes in on his own. Today, he’s more satisfied with this, giving you your reward, giving you all he has in him as his muscles groan from fighting.

You seem to appreciate it. Purposefully arching your hips into his mouth, his tongue sliding deeper. Joel feels your walls tighten as he tries to go deeper—as he tries to bury himself inside of you, in the same way you have him.

Then, it’s his turn to moan. Your fingers knotting in his hair, a feeling he relishes, yearns for as your nails scrape against his scalp.

It wasn’t always like this with you. The two of you barely let the other in on anything outside the four walls the two of you had made liveable. It took time, weeks, months, half a year before things moved from being the right person at the right time, to just needing the other

Now, he knows you’re his, and he is yours. It’s about as committed as things go when structure and normalcy have withered to dust.

All he knows is he cares. It thrums, hammers against his bones when his voice couldn’t shout in time—watching in pained horror as your body was speared to the floor. His own fight began, unable to get to you, the back of his mind screaming, drumming its fists against his skull as a jaw cracked, and the butt of his gun met an oesophagus.

His breathing laboured, difficult—strained. Catching a glimpse between his brawl to see you get the upper hand on the raider twice your size. Your body thrown behind your fist, the sound reverbing through the air as Joel smirked to himself.

It grew larger when he heard the knife sink into the person’s spluttered hisses, coating your thighs in ichor, staining them cherry-red.

He’d thought of nothing more than the mattress at the QZ—of his hand softly sliding your trousers from your skin. How he likes to kiss the pulse of your neck and feel your hands grasp his side. He imagined sinking his cock into you, inch by inch—the thought of your legs around him, breasts spilling out as he sliced you free from all the constraints that hid you from him.

It’s those thoughts as to why he hadn’t been able to wait. A need to remind himself of how alive you are, to hear it, see it, taste it.

It’s why he had you moaning—a sinful sound that almost reminds him of music. Your fingers splayed over the back of the seat, swiping dust away with your hopelessness as he continues to lap at your folds, keeping your legs parted with his hands as his thumb (he suspects and rather hopes) bruises your skin, leaving reminders.

Joel likes the evidence that he touched heaven and left a mark that couldn’t be so easily wiped. That it proves you’ve chosen him, because he knows he’s done things, horrid things.

Grief had spread its tendrils through him the same way the rot had ripped through cities. You hadn’t cared, not when you met or after. You never asked a thing—never wanted more than he could give.

It’s why he liked you, why he felt seen.

Boring your eyes into him, making him feel seen. Making him feel protective—awakening a dormant creature that’s now becoming a feral monster.

It became the reason why he wanted to give you nothing but pleasure, in the hope it’ll be enough to smother the pain he knows he must inflict. Because he cares, but not in the way you deserve. He won’t find a flower on the walk through a once-thriving city and pluck it for you; he won’t dance with you if music ever reaches their ears.

But you deserve that. A different life robbed from you, a happy ever after ripped from grip, even more so the moment you chose him.

It’s why he digs his hands into the back of your thighs, pulling you closer as he flattens his tongue against your core. Giving you something he can provide with ease, pleasure, care, comfort.

You moan at it. All punchy, full of hoarseness as his name joins it. A particularly needier yank of his hair accompanies it as he swirls the tip of his tongue over your swollen nub, before he latches his mouth back over you. Not wanting to leave you on the edge, because Joel never does. His fingers slide into your fluttering hole, feeling your hips buck, watching your eyes clench shut.

Because giving is practically all he has to offer.

He knows how your body hums before your throat sings—the next moan spreading up from someplace deeper, born from depth, as it rips out of you and sprays itself around the truck as he smirks.

He can’t help it.

You’re everything: a goddess, a work of art, his.

You’re his.

It surges him on, devouring you, lapping up everything you’ll give him as his cheeks flush with warmth and his zipper cuts into his hardened cock.

Because you’re so close. He can feel it, hear it, taste it.

It rushes through you, snapping and crashing—all Joel, fuck and a sea of other noises he craves.

He doesn’t stop, not immediately.

Whispering muted words against you as he makes his movements more gentle, easing you back to the present, your hips finding purchase back on the leather of the abandoned truck. His tongue moves from you before his fingers, mouth wrapping around his digits as you watch, hunger still simmering in the ocean of your eyes—chest rising and falling, beads of sweat falling down the swell of your jaw and neck.

Joel doesn’t move from his position, not even as your breathing returns. The two of you eyeing up the other, him all the more tempted to tell you to move up so he can get in the back, too.

”Do I ask what that was for?”

His lips slide into a smile, a foreign one—one that makes his cheeks crack from how long it’s been since he’s let it show—as his hand moves to his jeans, readjusting for comfort.

“Happy birthday.”

You blink, an array of emotions swirling in your deceptively deep eyes, before whispering: you remembered?

His hands help guide your underwear back up your legs, reaching down to get your jeans, shaking the ground from them.

Only then does Joel realise something else is like a drug, too. That look. The one full of surprise, shock, and amazement, still present on your face. Placed there by him, a remembrance from him you never asked for, never demanded. Because of that, he craves putting that look on your face again. And again.

Some part of him realising, before the rest of him, that’s how moving on begins, what really falling for someone looks like.

But as he helps you out of the vehicle, holding the jeans for you to take—deciding he’ll deal with all of that another day.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic #joel miller smut

2K notes · View notes

captain-mj · 10 months ago

Text

Wrote this at a laundromat so I hope you guys like it

Ghost had just moved to Scotland to get away from everything. His family's murders stayed a constant thought in his mind, but more than that, he didn't want anyone still loyal to Roba to find him. After wiping them off the map, he decided to do something he never thought possible.

Chose himself.

So he made his way to Scotland where no one would know Simon Riley and he bought a house and lived next to a small town so he could go over and get whatever supplies he needed before coming to hide again.

That's where he met him.

A local man who apparently was involved in the church and was in general a great person.. Most people referred to him as Soap, which Ghost thought was a very strange name, but he had also heard MacTavish which seemed more realistic.

The man saw Ghost, probably decided he was emotionally vulnerable, and decided to skulk around him. He asked, begged, pleading for Ghost to join his congregation.

Ghost turned him down each time, though he did love to see a pretty man beg. Once, he lifted lifted his mask, let him see the Glasgow smile cut into his cheeks. He hoped that Soap would assume gang member or miscreant and leave him alone, but it seemed to spur him on.

Soap MacTavish, savior of big buff men. Patron saint of being annoying.

Ghost started... watching him. The way he moved. His smile, just a little too wide with teeth a little too sharp.

He was... handsome. Seemingly kind. But Ghost was like a stray. He didn't trust affection and he wanted to keep it that way. No matter how honeyed Soap made his words or how kind the scraps he offered. Something about the man was unsettling.

Soap simply knocked on his door one day at dusk. Ghost only answered when he had his mask on. He had some kind of food in containers. "Hey! Several people I know made me these and gifted them to me, but I don't think I'll be able to eat all they gave me. Thought you might appreciate them. I know I'd be homesick, in such a new area."

Ghost stared at him, hands itching. "How did you know where I lived?"

"i knew the people who lived here before. Laid them to rest myself. Saw their last rites and all that. No other empty house around for miles."

"Other people know...?"

"Doubt it. Most don't think of you too much." Soap sniffed, looking around. "I assumed that's what you'd prefer."

"It is. Thanks."

Soap smiled. "I'll keep it between us." He kept standing there. Just waiting.

"I'm not going to invite you inside."

Immediately, those soft lips turned into a pouty frown. "At least take the desserts. I really do have no use for them."

Ghost didn't want to disappoint him for some reason, so he awkwardly took the food. "Okay. Address between us right?"

"Of course. With God as my witness." Soap grinned and left.

If Ghost would've thought about it, he'd made him promise to never come back as well. But he did not do that.

He went into his kitchen and opened the container.

Cranachan. Ghost had heard of it. The King of Scottish Desserts.

He grabbed a spoon and brought a bite to his mouth slowly. There was a thick cream with oats and raspberries. When he put a bite in his mouth, he could taste the honey and whiskey.

It was so good.

Ghost dug in on his couch. He was pretty sure this was supposed to be something he'd eat off for a few days, but he devoured all of it in one sitting. There was more of the raspberries sauce and Ghost found himself licking it from his fingers. A warmth settled in his chest from it.

Maybe Soap wasn't terrible.

Ghost got ready to start his routine of checking all of the windows and doors, but his couch suddenly felt so comfy. He felt his eyes start to close, the warmth spreading more.

For the first time since being a kid, Ghost slept all the way through the night with no nightmares.

Ghost cleaned up from the night before, feeling comfy. He noticed one of his windows was unlocked and chided himself for being so forgetful. After two sweeps of the house, he was sure no one was in his house and nothing was missing.

The dishes sat on the counter, suddenly suspicious. The idea of there being something in it was preposterous.

Ghost cleaned the dishes. "He's a fucking poster boy for good. You're being paranoid."

As time went on, he noticed things. Always on his porch or right outside. Tapping or animal noises or sometimes visions of someone right outside. The wonderful night of sleep was the last time he slept for a while.

Soap showed up again. A cross necklace Ghost couldn't remember seeing was around his neck. He looked apologetic as he had more of the delicious treat. "Sorry. It's raspberry season so everyone is making it and... well... I don't really have much of a sweet tooth."

Ghost looked at him coldly. "And you're bringing it to me? No orphans to give it to? Children to target?"

It was the first time Soap had looked upset at him. Ghost was a military man. He dealt with that constantly back in his troop. But for some reason, Soap's unhappiness got under his skin.

"No, Ghost. I just... thought you might be feeling lonely. Ya probably think I'm naive. Small town guy, always trying to talk to you..." He looked embarrassed. "Never met someone from Manchester. And before you ask, I figured it out by your accent."

Ghost looked at him for a few minutes before looking away to pretend he wasn't affected by him. "I don't."

"Gotcha... I can just... take the food."

"No. I'll still take that." Ghost quickly grabbed the home made food, noticing Soap's flash of a smile. He bit his lip as he cradled the food. "Look, I'm not a good guy. Definitely not someone you need around you."

Soap looked at him sadly. "Even outside of my faith, I still think all people deserve someone. I just... want to try to make you feel less lonely."

Ghost sighed. "Alright. Come in."

Soap got so excited. He carefully walked inside and glanced around, moving his weight back and forth between each foot.

Ghost sat on the chair he had. "Haven't exactly bought much furniture. But you're allowed to get comfy."

Soap grabbed the couch and smiled brightly. There was something about him. He looked at him and his eyes... had a shimmer to it.

Ghost paused, holding the bowl.

"Are you going to put it away? Or eat it right now?" Soap asked conversationally. He batted his eyelashes.

Ghost gnawed on the inside of his cheek. "Gonna put it away for now."

"I see. Have you been sleeping well? This place seems... so isolated. I don't think I could ever quite get a good sleep."

Ghost couldn't think of a good answer besides the truth. "Sleep has never came easy to me."

Soap frowned, batting his eyelashes at him. "I'm sorry. I hope it gets easier for you." He seemed so genuine. So sweet.

Ghost shrugged. "Thank you..."

They started to slip into rather easy banter, but he found his eyes getting heavier.

Soap got up and picked his way over. For a moment, Ghost was afraid. He almost lashed out, afraid. But he didn't touch him. He leaned in, eyes glowing against the backdrop of everything around them. "Sleep well, Ghost."

Ghost fell asleep on his chair. Soap locked the door on the way out but he didn't lock the windows.

Ghost found Tommy's photo album and went through them. He looked at the various photos of him and his family and he found himself missing them again. They looked so cute. So perfect. He left them on his coffee table, messy and covering every inch.

Joseph looked up at him, bright smiling face.

Simon was holding him. Blond curls that he spent too much time keeping bleached. No scarring.

He felt like he was going crazy as things... moved around his house. Things moved right out of the corner of his eyes. So he started preparing.

Guns were tucked into every hiding place he could. Knives even more so. He started to work out again for the first time in a few weeks. Luckily he hadn't lost too much of his physique.

Ghost eventually found himself eating the cranachan. He slept well. It was unsettling.

Right before dawn, Soap arrived at his house. The clouds were churning together but there was still some sunlight streaming through. "I brought coffee. Are you a coffee person?"

Ghost wasn't usually, but rather than deal with Soap's sad look again, he took the drink. He sipped it and found himself pleasantly surprised at how good it was.

Soap smiled. "Have any plans?"

"Gonna make breakfast... wanna join?" Why did he say that??

Soap smiled and quickly walked in. "I'd love to."

Ghost started to cook. He had been trying to learn more cooking lately so hopefully it wasn't too bad.

Soap looked thankful when he set it down and started to eat. They did so in basically silence. The cross necklace kept catching the light so he kept staring at it. When he lifted his gaze to look at his eyes, they made direct eye contact.

Soap's eyes. They were so dark. Like a shark.

Ghost felt for the gun under his side table. He tried to keep up conversation.

"Don't grab that gun, Simon."

Ghost paused what he was doing, watching the cross necklace sway where it sat. "What?"

Soap sighed. "Don't be like that. The gun your hand is on. Don't grab it." His nails clicked against the table. Too long. Too alarming. "Be a good boy, Simon."

Ghost stared at him, debating what could be done here.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"What are you?"

"Not a danger to you." Soap answers a little pedantically. "I promise." His canines. They were long and curved.

Ghost glanced at the coffee. "You were drugging me."

Soap hummed. "No. More of a... side effect of my presence. You feeling anything right now?"

Ghost could feel something tugging at the edge of his consciousness but nothing too severe. "What do you want?"

Soap swallowed. "I'm hungry. Starving."

"You saw me up here. Being vulnerable. And decided you could fuc-"

"No. Not quite. I... I know you could keep a secret."

Ghost blinked, realizing the situation. "You're... asking."

Soap looked pained. "I am. A... deal. I keep everyone away. Tell them whatever I need so they leave you alone and I get to..." His eyes trailed to Ghost's throat.

"How bad is the feeding?"

"Not bad! I take about as much blood as a blood donation. Easy peasy. I'll even bring you food for recovery just please..."

Ghost undid the top button of his shirt and Soap looked ready to wiggle out of his seat. The poor man was salivating.

Why was he doing this?

it was stupid.

Idiotic.

Self-sacrificing.

The mask hit the table.

"Go for it."

Soap leapt over the table and sat in his lap. Teeth sank into his throat as he held him, holding him tight. They pressed together and Ghost could feel the unsettling chill that came from Soap.

He grabbed the table, almost white knuckling it.

Pain radiated from where he was being stabbed into and he felt himself go lightheaded. Soap's ass was pressed firmly to his lap though and it felt...

pleasurable.

Slowly he sank into it, feeling Soap take his fill.

His pretty boy thanked him, lips bright red from blood. "Thank you. Thank you. You're perfect. My angel from heaven."

Their lips touched and Ghost groaned softly.

Soap panted in his ear. "I'll be good. Promise. Take care of you." His claws sank into Ghost who was wondering how bad the situation he landed himself was.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

284 notes · View notes

sixofcrowdaydreams · 8 months ago

Text

Six of Crows Russian Edition

Today I found this gorgeous gem at the bookstore!

So a few years ago I moved overseas to live in a Russian speaking country. I am not in Russia, for the record. The national language here is not Russian, but it is commonly spoken in my city.

Today at the bookstore I looked for a copy of Crooked Kingdom for the cast of Shadow and Bone to sign this May when I go to A Storm of Shadows and Crows convention in Paris. I don't own a copy of SOC or KC in English and there's no chance of finding one where I live. The next best option was getting a book in the local language and calling it a souvenir of my time abroad. To my delight I found this lovely Russian edition of Six of Crows!

More stunning artwork below.

There were multiple versions of the books to choose from. The original art and the Netflix artwork were available too. The most impressive part was finding copies of the original covers WITHOUT the Netflix sticker. (Haha, suck it Netflix.) To the right, not pictured were King of Scars and Rule of Wolves.

I've never seen this cover variation before. It was an exciting find!

The Russian version I bought is illustrated by (I assume Russian?) artist Eva Eller.

I didn't see a copy of Crooked Kingdom with illustrations by the same artist at this bookstore, but it must exist. Mine was the last copy of SOC with the Russian artwork. Maybe it was sold out?

Google Translate titles the book Six of Ravens, lol. But that's just a translation error because a little google-foo showed that ворона (pronounced vorona) means crow. Interestingly, while typing the title, I learned that вор (pronounced vor) means thief. Interesting how similar the words crow and thief are in Russian. Checks out.

Above is the art printed on the side of the pages. Love how it still includes the side of the pages colored, just like the original books.

The hardcover underneath the jacket is a crow. It's not the same as pictured on the original CK cover, but it is similar. Love the messy, broken, bent feathers, yet the crow is still able to fly. Metaphor for our six characters? Absolutely!

The book was wrapped in cellophane so I didn't realize there was even more art inside! Here is the inner cover. IT'S BEAUTIFUL! The back is the same. It captures the foggy haze of Ketterdam so well.

The flaps of the book jacket are images from the inner cover. But there's a cracked texture over them that gives it a gorgeous grittiness.

The candle is the left side of the inner book jacket. Sorry the image isn't flat, I didn't want to damage the jacket by straightening it out.

The right side of the book jacket shows all the Crows!

Let's appreciate how Matthias looks snow pale and serious. Inej is taller than Nina -- she must be standing on a step stool. No clue why both of their eyes are closed, especially when Nina is the one pointing to the paper. They are lovely. Kaz has on his scheming face. Jesper is as handsome as every version of him should be. And Wylan looks bored AF because A.) he's already memorized the map he drew or B.) he can't read whatever document Kaz has in front of them. Wait, no, Wylan is making heart eyes at Jesper. All of the above can be true.

Inside is a small illustration at the beginning of each chapter, which changes with each section.

You can also see the Crow's names written in Cyrillic. Inej, Kaz, Nina, and Matthias translate easily. Jesper uses the д (letter D) and ж (pronounced like zhe) letter combination that makes his name sound like Zhesper since there is no J in Cyrillic. It's worth pointing out (again) that Wylan's name does not translate perfectly. There is no W in the Cyrillic alphabet. (As someone who also has a W in their name, I sympathize with Wylan here.) I'm no expert in Russian, but I'm pretty sure -- with the help of google translate -- that Wylan is pronounced as Oo-ai-len. Poor boy can't catch a break.

Each of the five section of the book use different chapter art. They all do an excellent job capturing the atmosphere.

The paper is so thin that you can easily see the printing on the opposite side. Not ideal for an edition that's otherwise this lovely. Oh well.

Given that Ravka is fantasy Russia, it's not a surprise to find the Grisha Verse books in Russian.

I am so excited to bring this book to Paris for the cast to sign!

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone

272 notes · View notes

hellfirenacht · 1 year ago

Text

Wing Man Part 6

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie. (1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

Chapter Summary: What DID he mean by five? The second meeting.

5.1k words

A/N: How are we feeling in a post-"Flight of Icarus" world, y'all? I knew from the beginning that I'd want to add some of the lore in and let me tell you, I LOVE Ronnie Ecker. For those of you who did not read the book, or haven't had a chance to, Ronnie is Eddie's best friend who ended up with a full scholarship to NYU. They're siblings, your honor.

Also if anyone can show me on this map where the plot is going, I'd really appreciate it.

This late at night, the only sounds in the trailer park came from the occasional dog barking and the echoes of Eddie’s tapes blasting as he pulled up to Wayne’s trailer. His uncle was working tonight as usual, which would normally allow Eddie time to hog the tv before passing out for a few precious hours before he had to get up for school.

Tonight however, his mind was buzzing with what had just happened less than an hour ago. He liked you, he wasn’t sure how much yet but he did. You were sharp and knew your stuff about metal. It helped that you were cute. Really cute.

He liked seeing you in the passenger seat of his car, matching wits with his friends and ranting about Ozzy. He liked seeing you laughing and the way you watched him play. He really liked the way you had fiddled with the pick he’d thrown at you at the end of the set.

Eddie had never done that before. He’d wanted to, but never had anyone’s attention like that before- no. That wasn’t true. There had been one other person who’d listened to him play like that, two years ago.

Was he always gonna fold to the site of a pretty girl actually paying attention to his music?

“Of course you are.” Ronnie’s voice echoed on the phone. “And I’m gonna laugh every time you do.”

Eddie groaned, holding the receiver to his ear as his forehead pressed against the front of the fridge. He hadn’t planned on running to her with this, but he was nowhere near able to wind down. He hadn’t even expected Ronnie to pick up the phone this late at night with the time zone difference and the fact that it was a school night. He’d have to push his stash a bit harder to pay Wayne back for the long distance call.

The past two years had been a slow crawl of building back trust up with Veronica Ecker. The two had gone almost a whole summer without talking before Eddie had basically groveled for forgiveness outside of Granny Ecker’s trailer before Ronnie left for New York. She had forgiven him enough to let him give her a ride to the airport.

“Last time?” He’d asked.

“Last time.” She’d repeated.

“So why didn’t you shack up with her tonight?” Ronnie asked. “You got her into your van, and you dropped her off like a gentleman.”

“I don’t know, I panicked.” Eddie sighed, bonking his head against the fridge a few times. “She was right there, and she was leaning in and all I saw was Paige leaning in-”

“You know not every girl who shares your taste in music is Paige, right?” Eddie could practically see Ronnie rolling her eyes on the other end of the line.

“Any girl that shares my taste in music ends up fucking off to the opposite end of the country.”

This made Ronnie laugh. “You’re an idiot. Paige fucked off back to her job and I fucked off to college.”

“Fucking off is fucking off.”

“Maybe you need to fuck off.”

“I tried, remember?”

She remembered. Both of them remembered.

“Look, stop being a dipshit.” Ronnie said after a moment of awkward silence. “You’re graduating this year, right?”

“Uhhh...”

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m working on it. I just need those last stupid two classes and then I’m home free.” Eddie confirmed.

“You can’t stay in high school forever.” Ronnie said. “And you’re gonna realize that there’s life outside of Hawkins. Have you even talked to Paige since then?”

He hadn’t, and they both knew it. Eddie gave up two months after she’d bailed him out of jail. Two months of dead air silence. He got the hint.

“No.”

“Then stop worrying about one girl from over two years ago!” Eddie could feel the phantom pain of Ronnie punching him in the arm like she always used to. “Get laid and graduate, Munson. You earned it.”

Eddie snorted, sliding down the fridge to sit on the cool floor. “Is that the only advice you got for me, Ecker?”

“It’s the only advice you need. Did you pass that test last week?” Ronnie asked.

“By the skin of my teeth.” Eddie sighed, leaning his head back against the fridge.

“Your new girl graduated, maybe she can help you study.”

“She’s not my girl. She’s a girl that I’ve met a handful of times-”

“That’s turning your brain to mush.”

“She doesn’t even know who I am, Ronnie.” He fiddled with the chord in his hand, watching the spiral wind and unwind around his fingers. It was already stretched out pretty bad, with a few spirals already tangled beyond repair like his old slinky from when he was a kid.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ronnie asked. “She doesn’t know you, that means she doesn’t feed into the bullshit of the rumor mill.”

Ronnie had a point and he hated it, but that’s why he called her to begin with. Ronnie was the only person who could cut through his Munson bullshit and give it to him straight. He missed it. As much as he enjoyed the power he had to protect his little lost sheepies, they were all too intimidated to actually stand up to him and call him out the way that Ronnie would.

“Yeah, you’re right. As usual.” Eddie could hear her snort and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “So why the hell are you even awake right now? Up til 2 am on a school night, Ecker?”

“It’s barely past midnight, the time zone isn’t that off. I was studying for a test, but hearing you complain about your love life is a far more productive use of my time.”

“You’re using me to slack off, aren’t you?”

“If I have to look at my flashcards one more time tonight my eyes are gonna go square. How’s Granny doing?”

“She’s an empty nester and is determined to turn me into her replacement grandson until you visit again.” Eddie shook his head. “She threatened to give me a haircut the last time she dropped off a plate for Wayne.”

Ronnie had come back to visit a grand total of five times since she’d left, returning for holidays and summers to visit Granny Ecker and by extension Eddie. Each time she’d come back with stories of law school and how different New York is.

It seemed impossible, everything that Ronnie had told him about going to college and about life outside their small town. She was playing Dungeons and Dragons still, having found a group that would play with her. According to her, being a rules lawyer for the game at a law school hit way different than it had their small Hellfire group in high school. No one even cared that they played outside of a few students who had better things to do than enact violence against a few nerds.

Then again, in law school everyone was some sort of nerd. Eddie wondered if even a freak would be accepted there. Well, socially at least. He wasn’t delusional enough to think he’d be able to be accepted into law school with his grades. Ronnie had invited him up to visit a few times, but there was never time or money to do it.

The two continued talking for another hour, catching up until Ronnie was scolding him for staying up so late on a school night.

“Yeah? And what’s your excuse?” Eddie said. “It’s almost 4:20 am there.”

“Ha. Ha. Again, ha.” Ronnie said. “Still not how timezones work. And my first class doesn’t start until noon.”

Right. In college you didn’t have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn every day.

“Night, Ecker.”

“Night, Munson. Graduate and get laid.”

“Does it matter the order?”

“Good night, Eddie.”

Talking to Ronnie had eased his nerves, but there was still something inside that wouldn’t let him lay down and go to sleep. It was late now, way later than he intended to stay up tonight. The night he played at the Hideout always had him up late, and his teacher already considered him more useless than usual on Wednesdays. It’s not like anyone would care if he slept in class, unless they were in a particularly foul mood.

He made his way to a stack of books in his room rummaging through a pile or two until he found what he was looking for. Eddie’s copy of Lord of the RIngs was well loved at best, and completely trashed at worst. The cover of the paperback was nearly torn off, taped back together haphazardly over the years. Pages were dogeared, the spine was cracked, notes were scribbled in the margins, and his name was scribbled in messy cursive on the front page declaring that this book belonged to Eddie Munson and that he was in third grade.

Eddie stripped out of most of his clothes, tossing his jewelry on his nightstand, and hopped into bed. He turned on a small lamp and opened the book. He could probably recite the first chapter from memory if he tried, the words on the page a comfortable lullabye for his wound up mind. But tonight he flipped to a page near the end where his bookmark was. The flower made out of blue construction paper wasn’t nearly as old as the book, and only in better shape because it never left the safe pages of Tolkein’s writing.

His eyes glanced at his arm again, your phone number a temporary tattoo on his skin until it washed off. Shit, it was going to wash off eventually. Eddie grabbed a pen from under his bed and added another scribble to the inside of the book before copying your number carefully onto the paper flower. At least this way he’d always know where it was.

With that aside, Eddie didn’t make it through three pages of his book before he passed out with the light still on.

Fall Semester, 1984

The PrinciPAL’s office was just as interesting and inviting as it always was, which is to say not at all. Eddie was slumped back on a chair, watching as Janice sorted through paperwork, pretending to look busy so that she could avoid any small talk with ‘that Munson boy’. He had been waiting for Higgin’s to show up for almost fifteen minutes now, because why shouldn’t he waste Eddie’s time at this point? The worst that was going to happen today is that they’d do their little song and dance, Eddie would plead his case that the flyers were absolutely serious and that Chris Morrison had every intent to run for student council, and that it was all of the club that had made the posters, Higgins would shake his head and not believe Eddie for a second (which to be fair, this would be the first time that Eddie would admit privately that it was his fault), they’d go back and forth until Eddie got some form of detention or Saturday school.

Honestly, the worst part would be rescheduling Hellfire if he wound up in detention.

Eddie had counted out 13 paper clips that Janice had used in her papershifting before the door to the front office opened up again. He looked up, expecting to see Higgins walk in, ignore him for another five minutes, before Janice would let Eddie go in.

He didn’t expect to see you, pale and shaken, clutching a teacher’s note in your hand. Eddie watched as you handed the note over to Janice who read it, shook her head, and pointed at the chair next to himself. Your eyes never left the floor as you sat next to him, staring at the cheap carpet as if you could somehow burn a hole in it and disappear.

Trouble was no stranger to Eddie, and Eddie was no stranger to trouble. In Hawkins the name ‘Munson’ might as well be in the thesaurus next to the word. This wasn’t his first rodeo, and it would be far from his last as long as Higgins stayed the princiPAL. He’d walk away with a lecture and a sigh and then it would be business as normal.

The look on your face though, that was far from the mild annoyance he felt. You look downright traumatized at the idea of having been sent here. Eddie glanced up at Janice who deigned to make eye contact with him now. Her eyes flicked between the two of you, a disapproving look behind her purple frames as if this was somehow Eddie’s fault that you had ended up here as well. But then, as far as any of the faculty from the office was concerned, even him being enrolled at this school was a death sentence to the rest of the poor student body. Eddie was a disease that they would try to contain until they had the cure to remove him.

The shaking of your knee made your chair (and his chair by proxy) rattle slightly. The quiet of the office and the mundane shuffling of Janice’s papers only added to the tension that was radiating off you.

“Janice, is Higgin’s gonna be long?” Eddie finally asked, and your bouncing knee stopped for just a moment before going back to its nervous movement.

“He’s in a very important meeting.” Came the reply over a stack of papers, still not looking at Eddie.

He sighed again and looked over at you, trying to place where he knew your face. Your eyes were a bit red, and you looked like you were on the verge of crying. Shit, he needed to do something before he had to ask Janice for the tissue box.

“First time?” Eddie asked, and when you didn’t respond he nudged your knee with his.

You jumped slightly, head snapping up. It was a wonder you didn’t give yourself whiplash and it would have been almost funny to Eddie had you not looked like a deer in the headlights looking at him.

“I... Huh?” your voice cracked slightly.

“What are ya in for?” Eddie did his best to give you a smile which he was sure made him look more like a serial killer than a comfort. It was rare he wished that he had his dad’s smile, but in cases like this he’d make an exception.

You looked at the paper in your hand and swallowed. “Uh... skipped.”

“Skipped school or just class?” Eddie prompted, trying to get you to talk more. If you were talking, then you weren’t crying. That’s what he hoped at least.

“Class.” He didn’t think you’d say anymore but you surprised him. “US History.” Eddie caught the way your eyes darted to Janice again as if to make sure she wasn’t listening in, but Janice had better things to do than to eavesdrop on two delinquents. “I wasn’t... I had a bad day. I'm having a bad day. I felt like I was going to explode and I went to the library.”

Eddie nodded, wondering what had happened today that made you need to duck out. It wasn’t his business, and frankly Higgin’s was going to grill you enough as it was.

“Rookie mistake.” He said instead.

“Rookie...?”

Eddie kept his voice low and leaned in closer to you as if telling you a secret. “If you’re gonna skip, you can’t go to the library. You might as well have walked into the teacher’s lounge and announced that you were cutting class.”

You let out a sharp breath that he swore counted for a laugh. “Thanks for the heads up, can you tell me that a few hours ago?”

There was color returning to your face now and Eddie kept going. His brown eyes scanned your face, trying to place where he knew you from. Hawkins was a small town, and there was nothing about you that screamed ‘I’m new!’.

He liked your sarcasm though, and his ‘comforting’ grin shifted into a genuine smile. “If you’re gonna ditch, you need to go to the bathroom or go outside.” He said. “Especially for last period. Go hide outside in the woods and you can slip into the parking lot seamlessly without anyone noticing. By the end of the day the teachers are barely taking attendance anyway.”

“Have you been in the girls rooms here?” you asked, shaking your head. “I think I’d rather take my chances here than stay in there longer than I’d have to.” Eddie wasn’t sure if you were trying to make a joke or if you were serious.

“Would you rather hide in the boys room?” he asked. “I swear it only smells like piss almost all of the time and you’d end up in the splash zone even if you were in a stall.”

That got a laugh out of you, a genuine one. Your shoulders were relaxing and you looked down at the paper again and took a deep breath that you exhaled with a sigh.

“I’ve never been in trouble before.” you said, your hands starting to bend and fold the paper on your lap absently. “I’m not good at being in trouble.”

“Well, lucky for you I’m here.” Eddie nudged your knee again with his. “Being in trouble is kind of my job here at Hawkin’s High. I’m a professional, you know. If I wasn’t here taking up all of Principal Higgin’s time he might have to actually do his job.”

That last part was louder, as he directed it to Janice who refused to take the bait and only reached for her lilac stapler instead.

A small smack on his arm drew his attention back to you, you were smiling at him looking astonished. “You’re gonna get us in trouble!” you whispered at him.

“We’re already in trouble.” Eddie reminded you, his smile never fading. “Look, you’ve never been in trouble before, right? You’re gonna be fine. Just give him a good sob story about being overwhelmed with school, or about a sick pet. If you can squeeze out some tears that’s even better. The worst that he’s gonna do is give you a slap on the wrist and maybe detention if he’s in a shit mood”

You take in his words, listening to him carefully and taking in every word he was saying as if this was life or death. Eddie admittedly, had purposefully slipped into his Dungeon Master voice. It was a skill that normally only worked on his little sheepies in his club, and that was after semesters of training his players to listen and pay attention to his words or else it would be life or death for their characters.

Having someone else listen to him like that? It felt really good.

Your mouth started to open to say something but then the office door opened again and Higgin’s stepped in, nodding to Janice and then looking at the two of you. There was an accusatory look in his eyes as he made eye contact with Eddie again, and it was clear what that look said. Leave her alone, don’t make things worse for her than they already are.

“Munson.” Higgins said and it took everything in him to stay still and not flinch at his last name. He was used to the weight that came with his name, but he hadn’t wanted you to know who he was. Not after he just remembered where he knew you from, glancing down at the note that you had folded into a flower in a fit of nerves.

“I heard you missed me, Sir.” Eddie forced his eyes to meet Higgin’s. “You really should just start saying hi in the hallways instead of inviting me to these little chats every week. You’re taking away valuable learning time from me, you know.”

If the two of them had been alone, Higgins would have snapped back at Eddie about being a smartass. But you were there, and the color had drained from your face again, and there was a shine to your eyes that was threatening to spill over your waterline. Higgins looked at you and motioned for you to follow him into his office.

Eddie wished that you would turn and look at him before disappearing into the PrincePAL’s office. He could imagine you turning to look at him for comfort, he’d give you a smile that would put you at ease and a thumbs up. You’d give him another smile and walk in feeling brave.

Instead it was like you forgot he was there as your figure disappeared behind the heavy wood door that shut with a heavy click.

Of course Higgins had you come in first, even though Eddie had already been sitting here since the beginning of the period when he’d been called in.

He was tempted to go over to the door and press his ear up against it to listen in on what he was saying to you but even Janice would scold him for that. So there Eddie sat for another ten minutes as he waited for you to step out again.

Higgin’s was the one to open the door and let you out of the office, as if he were some gentleman instead of Eddie’s own personal warden five days a week. You walked out and to Eddie’s surprise you gave him a nod and mouthed thank you as you slipped back out the door and into the hallway.

Eddie’s eyes followed you until he couldn’t see you anymore and it took Higgin’s standing in front of him with folded arms and saying his full government name for Eddie to snap back to reality.

“Munson. A word about your little flyers?”

“Well, I’d say a picture is worth a thousand words-”

“In my office.”

Eddie didn’t remember much else about that talk, only remembering the white paper flower that had been carelessly tossed into the trash next to Higgin’s desk.

“He still hasn’t called you?” Steve asked as you, him, and Robin continued your closing routine. The day had been busy, with almost everyone in Hawkins coming to rent a movie for the weekend. Robin was stocking the candy while you wiped down the sticky counter where children had been touching all day. Who’s idea was it to leave out free suckers on the counter anyway?

Oh right, that was your idea because you loved Halloween.

“Nope.” you said, your voice a little tense. It had been almost two weeks since that night at the Hideout. You hadn’t returned to the dive bar, hoping that Eddie would call you and make the next move. Each passing day you had stayed as close to the phone as possible when you were home and you’d checked your voicemail every day when you got home for any sign that he’d attempted to reach out.

Nothing.

You shouldn’t feel this rejected but you did. It was far too early to tell if you had any feelings beyond initial attraction to the guy, but... you’d felt something. An enjoyment of bantering with him and an ease that came as naturally as your friendship with Robin and Steve.

Plus, you had to admit it, he was really fucking hot. Seeing him play guitar two weeks ago had haunted your dreams and slipped into a few of your fantasies when you were alone.

You kept that part to yourself though, that was the last thing that Steve or Robin needed to hear. Besides, that was Steve’s job to go far too into detail about his sex life. Steve had tried ribbing you about going home with Eddie but you’d told him that you were a complete gentleman with him.

That night had left you feeling electrified, almost high as you danced around your room as you got ready for bed. Even as his odd parting rattled around your brain, you couldn’t help but to feel excited at the idea of seeing him again.

Then a few days went by. Then a week. And now two weeks later you hadn’t heard from him. The kids hadn’t stopped by either so you couldn’t hassle them about Eddie either. Even if they had, you weren’t sure if you could ask about him, you didn’t want to come across as desperate.

“Did you ever figure out what he meant by ‘five times?’” Robin asked, opening up a squished package of Reese's Cups. “Like, didn’t you say you didn’t know him?”

You threw your hands up before tossing the paper towels you were using to clean in the trash can.

“I have no idea.” you said. “Either I’m bad at math, he’s bad at math, or maybe we’re both stupid.”

“He did get held back a few times.” Steve muttered to himself.

“There’s a chance that you two have met before though.” said Robin, “I mean think about it, you’re both weirdos who went to the same school. Shouldn’t you both have bumped into each other before?”

“You’d think so, but my group kind of kept to ourselves.” you said with a sigh. “We were private weirdos. When I DID try and make other friends-”

“Yeah, yeah, Chris Morrison shot you down.” Steve said, waving his hand.

“Oh, you heard that story?” you laughed. “I didn’t think I mentioned it to you before.”

Steve gave you a blank stare that only made you laugh more. “I swear you keep talking about that guy more than Eddie. Maybe I should track him down and set you up on a blind date with him instead.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Hey, that could be fun!” Robin added. “We’ll dress you up super hot, set you up with Chris, and then you can turn him down instead!”

“Excuse you, Robin. I am always super hot.” you declared, straightening out your unflattering Family Video vest. “Who wouldn’t want a piece of this?”

You hadn’t done laundry in a week, and your hair had seen better days. The green polyester vest was wrinkled and if Keith saw you looking sloppy he’d probably have words about it. Not big words or even intimidating words, but words nonetheless. It was night and day compared to how you’d looked at the Hideout and the arcade earlier in the month. But it wasn’t like you had anyone to impress while you were at work anyway.

“Hey, nerdy chicks can be hot.” Steve said. “I mean, Nancy’s an academic nerd and I was crazy about her.”

You hummed thoughtfully and turned to Robin. “How about we get married instead?” you asked. “You, me, a fuck ton of cats, and a tax break. What do you say?”

Robin laughed and shook her head. “You aren’t my type.” Her eyes darted nervously to Steve for a split second and you sighed dramatically.

“Guess it’s just me and the cats I’ll eventually adopt.” you said. “Not even a tax break.”

“You know, Keith thinks you’re cute-”

“I am going to pretend that you did not just say that, Harrington.” you said firmly. “Nope, not happening. Uh-uh. Absolutely not.”

“He’s not... that bad?” Robin said, but you could hear the pain in her voice through the laughter. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

“The lady is trying not to think actually.” you laugh. “We’re closed, I’m actually done thinking. I just wanna finish cleaning up and go home. What’s left?”

“Rewinding the returns,-”

“Ugh.”

“Cleaning up the kids movies,-”

“Ugh.”

“And cleaning the bathroom.”

“UGHHHHHH.”

“Would you rather clean up the porn room?” asked Robin.

“Yes actually, I would.” You said. “Whatever they think about doing in that room is what they do end up doing in the bathroom.”

“Gross.”

Steve sighed “Okay, I’ll be the hero and save you ladies from cleaning the bathroom. Robin, you fix the kids section, and you can rewind the tapes.”

“I thought I was in charge here.” You crossed your arms.

“Okay, did you have a better way to divide and conquer?”

“...No.”

“Then let’s hurry up and-”

Ding!

“Who didn’t lock the door?!” you asked.

“It was Steve’s job to-” Robin started.

“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was staring at the person who had just walked in. You turned around and your heart jumped in your chest and your stomach dropped.

“Cursing in front of customers, Harrington?” Eddie said. “Now that’s not very professional of you.”

Robin’s eyes were darting so fast between you and Eddie that you were surprised she wasn’t giving herself vertigo. You tried to give her a pointed glare but your friend either didn’t get the hint or refused to.

“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips.

Eddie looked away from Steve and made eye contact with you. It had been two weeks since you’d seen him, and you glazed at his arm for a second, trying to see if the faded remains of your phone number were still stamped on his arm. Unfortunately for you he was wearing a heavy leather jacket and you had not yet developed x ray vision. Perhaps in another genre.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie asked and you, ignoring Steve who looked mildly offended.

You stood there in shock for a second before Robin nudged you in the rib.

“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, snapping out of it.

“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Robin grabbed Steve and shook his shoulder.

“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, already reaching for your bag under the counter.

“We can handle it!” Steve said.

“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”

You could trust Robin, and as long as Steve didn’t knock down any displays then it wouldn’t take them more than another ten minutes to finish up. You were so tempted to turn them down, make Eddie wait as you had waited for him for the past two weeks.

But you were already stepping behind the counter towards Eddie and tossing the keys to lock up to Robin. Keith would murder you and write you up (in that order) if he knew what you were doing but looking up at the roundest pair of brown eyes you’d ever seen had you in the mood to make questionable choices.

You shrugged off your vest and tossed it at Steve, in an attempt to make yourself look like you hadn’t spent the whole day dealing with unruly customers and screaming kids. Part of you almost wished that you had agreed to bathroom duty, if only to give you an excuse to look in a mirror and straighten yourself out.

“Thanks, guys.” you gave them a quick nod, catching sight of Robin’s knowing smirk and Steve shaking his head before walking out the door that Eddie was holding open for you.

The last thing you heard was the scrambling of the entrance to Family Video being locked.

Part 7

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Please comment and reblog <3

Tag List: @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistonk @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @bakugouswhOr3

#nacht fic #wing man #eddie munson x reader

366 notes · View notes

stemmmm · 10 months ago

Text

Close to a year and four rewrites later, I present to you...

Stem's Thoughts on the Game Design of Harvest Moon on SNES

I’m not going to lie, if you don’t like farming sims, you won’t like this one. At their core, every farming sim (at least in the rpg genre) is nearly identical, and that’s because of this game. In a way, I might dare to say that Harvest Moon for the SNES is the perfect farming sim because it has every one of the usual elements in their most simplified form and it just works straight from the get-go. It works so well in fact, that after this game came out in 1996, four more entries to the series were released before the year 2000.

If you are someone who does like farming sims, I can’t recommend this game enough. It’s simple and to the point, with a fast pace and enough random events and points of intrigue that the game kept me relatively engaged for my whole playthrough.

Also, by nature of this being the first game and therefore hard to cover concisely and by nature of taking so long to write this... it's long as hell! Enjoy! :) <3

I can’t say my appreciation of this game doesn’t come with a few caveats. I’ve intermittently played HM games all my life, starting with the GameBoy port (GB1) all the way to Pioneers of Olive Town, so while I don’t know exactly how the series has evolved, I’ve seen it at some of its earliest and at its latest. My vague childhood memories of GB1 (a game I didn’t own and didn’t play much of) were that it was pretty sparse and bland, so knowing that this original game was allegedly the same thing but with a little more content, I was expecting the bare minimum. I was prepared to never even be able to leave my farm, but the first thing the game did was shuttle me off to the nearby town and blocked the exit until I talked to everyone there.

(Maps of the town, mountain, and farm via The Spriters Resource)

You learn everything you need to know about the game right here at the beginning; Firstly, that this town is small as all hell and has hardly anyone in it aside from the five girls you can marry and their immediate family members. The next thing you’ll learn is that there’s a fence on your farm, and you need to be taking care of that. Of the few repetitive lines of dialogue any given person in town has to share with you on any given day, a fair amount are devoted to reminding you to fix your fence, to make sure it’s in good repair. There was just a big storm so watch out! Remember to check it every day! Are you chopping enough wood? Because you’ll need it for that fence!

I’m being dramatic of course, you aren’t reminded about it that much, though the thin variation of dialogue means it comes up a lot. The emphasis on your fence does exist, and it isn’t for nothing: while it doesn’t matter as much if all you do is grow crops– if you keep animals, the game tells you that the ideal thing to do for yours and the animal’s happiness is to put the animals outside to graze. Animal feed bought from the livestock shop will keep them fed, but it's nothing compared to fresh grass grown on your farm. You can’t even buy animals without a certain amount of grass planted! And sure, you can cut the grass to store for later, but it’s at its best straight out of the ground. However, the way the game is programmed, the animals only eat when the day rolls over, so putting animals outside for the day and taking them in at night isn’t an option, and on top of that, there’s things that come out at night that can hurt your animals. This is where your fence comes in.

The Utility of Fences

At the entrance to your farm is a cluster of buildings: your house, a small lumber shed, a barn, coop, and silo, a tool shed, and an old, dried up well. Just barely surrounding all of these is a little wooden fence that looks more like a row of upright logs than anything else. Despite this farm having presumably been abandoned, the fence is in perfect repair. You’ll quickly discover that the fence as it is won’t work out; there’s hardly space to plant anything within it, and with the well dried up, you’re forced to hop it to get to a water source to fill up your watering can. It’s pretty clear that you’ll need to expand your fence, and it’s easy to do with all of the tree stumps littering the massive field that it’s blocking off.

On top of needing to expand the range of your fence, the individual planks eventually will rot away and leave useless stumps. They show up more frequently after rain or a large storm. The posts don’t rot away completely so they have to be manually removed, but replacing them is as simple as smashing the old post with a hammer or ax and popping a new post in its place. It becomes a very natural part of your daily routine to run a lap around the farm’s perimeter before you go to bed to make sure everything looks safe and secure. It’s a good way to ensure your animals are put away and debris is cleared out, too! It slotted very nicely into my daily schedule until a certain point.

With how much time you have to spend hopping over the logs to get to the rest of the area too large to fence in, you might be tempted to leave one out of place for easier traversal. When night comes, it’s clear why that would be a mistake. Sometimes when you go to bed, you’ll hear your dog barking. It’s a small detail, one that took me a long time to notice because I didn’t always play with the sound on. There are wild dogs that prowl around the wilderness surrounding your farm, and only at night do they dare to come close. Your dog, if left outside, isn't able to do anything other than warn you of their presence if they show up. There’s nothing to notice during the daytime if it happens, unless you happened to leave one of your animals outside. There was one night that I left my chickens outside, having thought my fence was in perfect order and repair. I went to bed and heard the dog barking, followed by a horrible crunch. When I went out in the morning, I saw where my chicken had been before, it had been replaced by a pile of feathers. On the north side of my farm was a rotted fence post I’d failed to fix.

The Reality of Fences

After losing my chicken, a cluster of pixels on my screen it may have been, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving my animals outside. I didn’t want to take a risk again, the sound and sight of feathers was upsetting enough. On a more logical note, the chickens didn’t even lay eggs if left outside so there was no value in it. Cows were a pain to put back inside the barn too, because of some silliness with the game’s collision. As much of a disappointment as it was to not have my animals roam around, it was just easier. At the time, I was focusing on upgrading my house anyways, so I didn’t have time to take care of my animals outside where time would pass when I could use that time gathering wood, and everything I had was being saved up for the house so I didn’t have any extra materials to repair my fence with. My fence was all rotting away. Because it was inconvenient for getting to my crops, I started smashing all the old posts as they went, too. That’s when I noticed something: the wild dog wasn’t coming anymore.

I didn’t pay much attention to it until I was looking up a completely different mechanic and discovered a forum explaining how the fences were broken. Rotted posts attracted the wild dog, they said. It didn’t matter if you had gaps in your fence, or even a fence at all–in fact no fence was the best kind to have because the mere existence of posts that could rot was a liability.

I was hesitant at first to test this concept, after all there wasn’t much I could gain from it. My chickens wouldn’t lay outside, and my cows would be too challenging to get back in if the forecast called for rain. The thing that got me to finally try it was when I was trying to hatch more chickens. My coop felt like a nightmare to navigate due to its current population. I wanted less animals inside that I had to feed, so I threw a couple chicks outside–they weren’t laying yet anyways. Lo and behold, the dog didn’t come. More days passed and more animals were left outside, and it never came. My fence had rotted until there was nothing left at all. No dogs could ever come to my farm again. And I realized that the game’s own insistence on its mechanics was all a lie.

How You’re Told To Play - How The Game Lies

Of course, my animals didn’t stay outside. For a minute it was fun having a crowd of cows milling about while I tended to my crops, but letting them wander free and uninhibited made it impossible to find and milk all of them without any trouble, and there were the rainy days to watch out for. After the novelty wore off, they went back inside and stayed there. The thing is, that didn’t make a single bit of difference in how much they liked me compared to how they were living in the barn. On top of that, they didn’t seem to care whether I was feeding them grass or store-bought food either, though I mostly stuck to the grasses since they were cheaper and easier to get. Nothing about how I was told to care for animals really mattered past feeding them every day, petting it and maybe brushing it, if it was a cow.

It gets worse. The most basic aspect of the game is the fact that time passes. The story takes place over 2 and a half years, running through each day until the end, and these days last from 6AM to 6PM according to the game’s own internal time setting. After 6PM, all of the shops aside from the bar will close and you lose the ability to sell anything as you’re told it would rot in the shipping bin overnight, so there’s nothing to do but sleep until the next day. Issue with this is that when the days stop at 6PM… they just stop. Time doesn’t flow anymore. The game doesn’t give you any kind of clock to know the exact time it is until after you’ve upgraded your house, so all you have to go by before that is the color of the environment and whether or not your character has played an animation to eat something (you’re automatically fed when you wake up, at noon, and at night). I discovered this because I was curious if I could actually see the wild dog by staying out, and left the game running for probably 20 minutes in real life only for nothing to happen. Because of the time freeze, the time after 6PM actually becomes really valuable for farm logistics. You can’t sell anything, no, but you can pull up all the weeds on the farm, water your crops, fix your fences, feed and care for animals if you hadn’t already, and harvest wood for fences and house upgrades which would have taken a lot of valuable time to get during shipping-hours. The only thing that gets in the way of doing all that is you running out of energy.

Your energy is what allows you to use your farming equipment like your ax or watering can. Running out of it doesn’t mean you fall unconscious or anything, but your character will play an animation of them stumbling over and will fail to use any tools. The most obvious fix to this is to simply go to bed, as sleeping gives you a full recharge. You can also, however, recharge it by going to the hot spring on the mountain, or by eating food bought at the restaurant in town or foraged for in the forest. You can’t tell easily how much is refilled, as there’s no visual indicator like a health bar, but you’re able to eat more than once, and jumping into the hot spring seems to count whether you did it or not more than how much time you spend in there, so you can hop in and out a couple of times and call it good.

Individually, time freezing at 6PM and energy being endlessly replenishable aren’t bad things. Even together, they’re not the worst. Having free time to focus on profitless chores is nice, and I think it’s important to be able to replenish your energy in case you have a limited amount of time to do things like for example, cut all of your grass before winter kills it. What makes an exploit out of these is the fact that the resources in the forest will never run out. Every time you re-enter the forest, all forage items and tree stumps are respawned. The infinite amount of forage makes for infinite energy refills, and could also make for an incredible money exploit if you didn’t have a very limited amount of time to ship things. You don’t have a limited amount of time to cut up tree stumps though. If you wanted to, you could run up to the forest after 6PM, chop every stump, then simply reload the area, and everything’s back. You can get all of the wood you would ever need to fully upgrade your house in one night. It’s a bit of a grind to do all at once, but it’s a grind you’d be doing over time anyways. It’s not the worst exploit in the world, since you still need money to pay for the house upgrade, but arguably because of how you have to focus your energy elsewhere for most of the game, the wood is the harder thing to get. Additionally, when the game has very little to do in both fall and winter due to the lack of crops, this exploit takes away just about any reason to play those two seasons other than to take care of animals. It’s an optional exploit of course–as all exploits are–but once you learn about it, it’s hard to resist the desire to get the grind out of the way all at once and mess up the pacing of the game.

The Charm of the Game

Learning that the fences were completely broken as a mechanic was a huge disappointment for me. From the moment I got a grasp on how the game was supposed to work, I wanted to eventually surround my whole field with fencing and keep my animals outside so I would have some life on my farm while I worked. I didn’t just want this, I was excited for it! This was something I’d never done in a farming sim that didn’t already manage putting animals in and out for you like Stardew Valley or newer Story of Seasons games do. My routine is always the same: I go into the barn and coop to tend to each of my animals, I take care of my crops outside, then run straight to town to talk to everyone, and go to bed. The change in routine that would come from taking care of the animals outside and patrolling the fence every night felt fresh to me. It made me feel that even though this was the first game of its kind, it was different and required new things of me. But in the end, I played it exactly the same.

Harvest Moon is still very different from all of the games that followed it, though. In many ways, it’s because it has less “stuff” in it– both in terms of items and things you have to do. But I wouldn’t say that it feels incomplete. Harvest Moon runs over the course of 2 and a half years before your work is evaluated. Until that happens, you have the ability to farm four different crops, you can raise both cows and chickens, you can upgrade your house to have more features, upgrade your working tools, build relationships with the townspeople to a small extent, go to town festivals that happen each year, and you can get married to one of the five girls living in town with whom you can have up to two children. Everything that you would come to expect as a fan of games like this is already here from the very first iteration. The most notable lack this game has, and one that seems to be completely unique to this game, is that there aren’t any crops in the fall or winter, which means that unless you have animals, there’s a whole half of the year that you don’t have anything to do. The game is clearly aware of this though, because in an average playthrough, this is where you’ll start to run into the story events.

There isn’t much of an overarching story in the game, past the general concept that you’ve run away from home to work on an abandoned farm. The conclusion rests on how good of a job you actually do. In between those two points are smaller events, usually tied to when you get tool upgrades or special ones for each of the romantic interests. The first event you’re likely to run into happens on the very last day of summer, where one of the woodsmen comes to your house in the morning to ask if you’re okay because he heard a huge crash at night and you should check your farm. What I found was that a tree in my field had fallen over, and its remaining stump had a big empty hole in it. When I inspected the stump, I was suddenly underground in a cave filled with loud and industrious music, and I was faced with two, little green people–Harvest Sprites, though I don’t know if they’re called that yet here. One asked me if my scythe worked well, and when I said yes, told me that they had made it and that I should check my shed tomorrow for a better one. Other tool upgrades are obtained in similar fashion; one comes from feeding a starving sprite a mushroom and another comes from another hole in the farm opening up to reveal another part of the cave system that has a couple of hints on how to unlock other things.

The events for romantic interests happen at less scripted times, as they’re tied to how strong your relationship is with each girl. Each girl only has one event, and it only triggers when your relationship is high enough that you would ask her to marry you. The events usually take up a whole day, and don’t necessarily add much to each character. Ellen’s revolves around how she’s no good at keeping pets– something established on your second day at the farm when you get your dog from her, Eve’s hammers in her fraught relationship with her grandpa, and Ann’s is about losing the chicken weathervane, or “weathercock” which sits on the roof of her workshop and goes missing every time there’s a storm. Conversely, Nina and Maria’s scenes bring up entirely new events that bring up a number of questions while providing no answers. Nina disappears while looking for a medicinal plant because her mother is apparently sick, and Maria vanishes for days until you find her hiding away with the woodsmen for some reason. All of these events, whether they share new information or not, manage to add some greatly appreciated depth to each character by giving them more room to speak and be sincere than their short and repetitive day-to-day dialogues do.

The dialogue in this game is simple, to the point, and sparse– probably because there was only so much memory that could be reserved for approximately 15 people who all have multiple lines of dialogue, and only so much money to pay someone to write more. There is simple dialogue that doesn’t tell you much more than “hello, how are you” would, more dialogue that I’d label as tutorial text, and a few lines that I truthfully couldn’t understand well because of the sub-par translation this game received for english. The dialogue that exists to inform the world really manages to create a unique vibe though. Nina’s dialogue, almost always about plants, goes into forays about how they’re creatures with wills to live, too. Ellen’s uncle who runs the ranch shop tells you that it’s much better to feed your animals fresh grass if you try to buy any from his store, and if you decline to purchase he laughs as if he’s won something. There’s even dialogue referencing the silent player! Multiple lines exist to comment on him not paying attention, and inspection prompts have people telling you not to touch something rather than being an item description. It was the last thing I expected, to get the same level of personality out of the main character as I did from each of the girls, albeit very subtly. He went from a kind of nothing, self-insert into being what I perceive to be a hyperactive boy, akin to a border collie who was let out into a field of sheep for the first time–the exact kind of person crazy enough to take on an abandoned farm and succeed.

It’s these short little character details that bring life into the game. Each day, you’ll really only see one line of dialogue from each character, be it new or old, with that dialogue usually only changing if there’s a change in season or festival coming up. The repetitive, pretty mindless routine of the game can turn into a sort of meditation if you let it, where you spend your time working thinking about the folks in town and what they had to say to you the previous day. The developers took this concept in stride and gave the side characters loads of dialogue about life, about God and religion, and about… very basic morals, but morals nonetheless. It’s a children’s game after all. When you take the thoughts, questions and prompts the characters give you back to the farm to do your long and tedious routine, you have to ask yourself– what are you working so hard for? For the feeling of accomplishment? Recognition from your peers? For the sake of some higher power, if you worship one? For me personally, it was to write this essay, but it was also for a good grade on the high score screen at the end, so to be honest a lot of this stuff was lost on me until just now when I was reviewing the game to get screenshots.

Setting The Standard - Why You Should Play HM SNES

You may read all of this and still think, well, it doesn’t sound like the game has much in it. And you would be right, it’s a very small game, but it’s also extremely quick. On average, my days only lasted about three minutes of real life time. Everything flew by, and I think I finished the game in 20 hours or less. I barely got a chance to notice that there wasn’t much going on because every second of my day was spent busy doing something, and when I wasn’t busy, the break was appreciated. I didn’t start to run out of things to do until I was finished with the second year, and when I looked up what I needed to do to get a decent ending, I was already most of the way there. It was easy to push through those last two seasons to get to the end, and it was so, so worth it.

As I mentioned earlier, the game ends with a high score screen, meaning it has to track all of your accomplishments. These include, but are not limited to: the number of things you ship, number of each crop you grow, number of animals you have and how much they like you, how upgraded your house is, who you married, how much all of the girls in town like you if you didn't get married, how many kids you have (which basically equates to how long you were married), your happiness score (increased by going to festivals and decreased by having animals die), and how many times you’ve pet your dog. In addition to these being tallied up and presented to you, you get special cutscenes not just for each one of these accomplishments, but additional ones for if you managed to do even better! I got a cutscene for having a cow, followed by one for having lots of cows, followed by yet another for having cows that loved me! Watching them play one after the other felt like taking a victory lap even without getting the best possible result. Seeing all of my numbers come up at the end made me want to try again to actually get those other cutscenes, not to get to see them, they’re so easy to find on Youtube, but because the game made it feel like an accomplishment! If I weren’t following this game up by immediately playing its GameBoy port, I absolutely would have started a new file right away. I’ve been playing the Harvest Moon series since I was a little kid and this was the first time I’d actually managed to beat one of these games. I struggle to think the finale of any game following this will feel as good as this one did.

I started writing this whole thing about the fences because it was an easy and silly entry point to get into my core issue with the game, and so I could have an opportunity to dig into game mechanics and the way the knowledge you have of them will completely alter your playstyle, because that’s all fun and interesting for me to talk about. Another reason why I focused on that was because it was near impossible for me to pick any kind of focus point when talking about this game. After all, I’m trying to study a whole series of games that spans multiple decades, and this is not only the first game in that series, but a game that created the whole genre of farming sims and defined that genre so thoroughly that you can see its DNA in every single game that followed.

I didn’t expect much to come out of my experience with this game. My expectations for it before I even picked it up were that it was going to be basically featureless, as informed by my experience with one of the first games I ever played as a child, Harvest Moon GB, which I will get into next. This game was not that at all. I think that everything it did manage to get working right came together just about perfectly. Harvest Moon is exactly what it wanted to be, and where it wasn’t, it lied about how it worked to try and make you play the correct way anyways. When I believed that lie, my time playing was even more enjoyable. Maybe if farming worked just a little bit more like how you’re told it’s supposed to, and if there was just a little bit more story, those would cover the things I felt wanting for the most. But maybe a little flexibility and ambiguity is a good thing. Maybe actually maintaining a fence is just too hard, and maybe if the girls were more fleshed out, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy filling in their gaps in my head.

There are many more things I could say and wanted to say about this game, but this has grown far too long already so I'm cutting myself off here. I'm sure my later entries aren't going to get near this length. If you managed to get to this point, thank you so much for reading!

#harvest moon #story of seasons #harvest moon snes #hm snes #game review #m.txt #hm posting #i think i hit the image cap also? it wouldn't let me put in more even though i dont think there are that many. maybe it was a different cap #im happy to answer questions about things i didnt cover here too lol and i have notes from my playthrough if anyone is interested in those #those notes are the only reason i was able to keep all of this straight given how long it took me to write #anyways finally hitting post after like 3 days because i keep forgetting until weird hours

161 notes · View notes

chucapybara · 3 months ago

Text

thinkin' about dancing with eula, in your favourite place to be with her—

it's cold out, it always is. dragonspine's climate is harsh and unforgiving, but to those of steel will, the wintry terrain is easy enough to temper. her hand is gentle around yours, the slightest flex beneath her gloves as she steadies you at the slightest hint of ice upon the ground.

(don't worry. she'll catch you, before you so much as harm a hair on your pretty head upon the snow.)

there's a precious spot—well, several, really—that you both come to often in search of refuge and respite from the trials of society. the snow is pure and untainted, untouched by the unjust jeers of those who call mondstadt home; it's quiet, here, a shelter in some ruins with evidences of your prior visits. a memory to return to with fondness.

you share a drink by the campfire, some dandelion wine fresh from the tavern. you watch as she prepares it, skilled and delicate, the slightest furrow in her brow as her cryo vision pulses and cubes of ice form in her palm. cheek on hand, you can't help but smile as she deposits the ice into the cups she'd brought: goblets, really, stolen away from the stash at the lawrence manor.

"so much silver gone to waste keeping up appearances. at least, with these, they'll serve a more priceless purpose," she huffs the first time she brought them, engraved with sapphires and dappled with gold embellishments. you should've felt like royalty then, as you swirled the wine; like nobility as you took a tentative sip. but the sight of her, tufts of silken arctics and sunset eyes and tender smile, made you feel like a witness instead.

(a witness, you remember thinking, to divinity itself.)

eula glanced at you when she concluded, then. an unspoken message that you already understand, that already warms you. much of it took time to learn, the little tells that gave her away (with some help from amber, of course), but you relished memorising each: her indignant scoffs and denying looks away when she's flustered, the furrow in her brow as she ponders her next strategy.

you thank her when she hands you a goblet, the dandelion wine chilled to the perfect cool. she wouldn't normally go through the trouble and hassle of the tradition, but for you, she would dredge up every crumb of history branded upon her skull.

it makes you appreciate her all the more. you smile, and she looks away, and you know her fair cheeks are already rosy before she does.

eula drinks less often, when she's around you. every moment is too sacred to be enjoyed drunk; you are a thorn in her side, but you are also the plaster and the sweet kiss and the tender touch that mends it with care enough unworthy for a pariah such as her.

you find that she sets down her cup, after no more than two sips. eula slips her gloves from her hands, tucking them into her sleeve, before extending her palm to you in wordless invitation.

it's soft, but firm as you take it. you can map every scar on her skin in your mind's eye, born of fumbles in her ascent to knighthood, her sisyphean struggle to be as the roil of waves: free, and unbridled. liberated from her guise, a pursuit of vengeance.

you brush your thumb over her knuckles, knowing the strength in them; these are the hands that have clawed their way out from the grave her ancestors dug for themselves, the hands that cleave a path towards a breeze-ful future. hands of a captain—the hands of the woman you love.

there's a twitch in her lip that you want to catch with your own, but she's already tugging you onto your feet.

"may i have this dance?" eula murmurs, bowing some. she has never been one to abide by her clan's customs, yet she shares the sanctity of her favoured past time with you. her favourite person.

and you laugh, because she doesn't need to ask, she never has to, because your answer would always be yes.

yes, of course i will.

yes, always.

her face colours, and you beam, radiant as the unsullied snow. you are her peace, and her trouble, and her quiet and her noise.

"yes, you may."

permission given, eula lets out a misting breath of relief, as if this wasn't already something she had done many times before with you. one step, and another, just to close the distance, lithe arm slipping around your waist to tug you flush against her, and your breath leaves you.

your clasped hands entwine, and eula brings them to her lips, soft petals brushing over your flesh. she has a way of that, stealing the air in your lungs, but you'd let her. every single time.

her lips trace the bone in your wrist, your inner forearm, through the sleeve of the coat she'd tucked you into before your hike through the snow. eula is cold but she's everything warm, the dawnlit sun and the duskfall's set; she kisses to your elbow, to your bicep, all touches reverent in every capacity. worshipful.

mondstadt's archon has never been her god, for you were the visage and her oath.

your eyelids flutter, your smile unbidden as eula finds her way to the curve of your shoulder, her breath warm against you. with a turn of the head, your nose brushes against her jaw, and you nestle into her, pressing a kiss of your own there, too.

"i thought you wanted to dance?" you murmur, soft with a hint of play, and she scoffs in your ear.

"that i did," eula exhales. "is this not our own?"

56 notes · View notes

certainlynotasimp · 1 year ago

Text

Cat Got Your Tongue?

(Miguel O’Hara x Female! Reader)

A/N: Hello~✨This is the one-shot version of this head cannon some one requested of Miguel O’Hara with a Black Cat!Reader. I still have no idea if this Anon , who I think I know who you are, wanted it to be the personality trope or the actual Spiderman character…oh well, I’m planning on writing one with y’all’s Spiderman x Black Cat lovers. Also this is my first attempt at some spicy content so feedback is appreciated.

Warnings: 18+ themes (Minors DNI), Not smut, Female Reader/Pronouns, Embarrassed Miguel, Jealousy, Dirty talk, and Google Translated Spanish (( again I’m sorry but hearing him talk in Spanish is literally just 🤤🤭🥵))

~~~~~~~~~

The sound of aggressive typing fills the empty space as six spider men enter the meeting place within the lobby of the Spider Society.

Miguel barely sparred any of them a glance as they mumbled their small formalities while dragging themselves to their seats. All except the one the blue spider absolutely loathed to see in this room.

“Good morning, Guapito~” A sultry voice purrs into his ear causing the hairs on his neck to stand up. The SpiderWoman’s minty breath caused Miguel to bite on his salivating tongue as he chewed out. “Good morning, (L/N). Please take your seat.”

Throwing on a mask of annoyance, he glares at the snickering temperest as she sits beside him.

The new addition to the society joined about three weeks ago and Miguel never regretted anything more in his life than letting her bat her eyelashes into his team. Her faux innocence deceived him into believing she wouldn’t be too much trouble until the devil perked her head out of her.

Soon accidental brushes in the corridor turned into lingering caresses. Polite compliments turned into flirty promises as she continued to twist him around her finger. He should hate it. Hate every single bat of those long eyelashes. Hate every cat like curl to her lip. Hate how she acentuates her muscles and curves when she’s close to him. But he doesn’t.

The only thing he can possibly think that he hates about her was the ravage thoughts she puts into his head.

And he hates how he loves it.

“Alright, since we are all here.” He states as he opens the holographic map through out the room. “We are dealing with a dangerous anomaly in dimension 1746.”

As he finishes that sentence, a brush of something against his calf makes his muscles jump. He controls his face to remain calm and collected despite the urge to glare at the snickering spider beside him.

The others look at her confused for a moment before she fakes a sneeze into her elbow.

“Oh, excuse me.” She plays innocent as she grabs a tissue and dabs her nose. “The change in season in my world is causing a really bad allergy season…”

Her pitiful excuse causes the others to turn back towards their leader with a soft chorus of ‘bless yous’ plays out. Her eyes turn to meet his ruby gaze as a sinister smile curls on her pretty mouth.

‘Ella va a ser la muerte para mí.’ Miguel mentally groans as he throws himself back into the meeting.

“Lyla.” Miguel calls as he watches the heart eyed AI materialize infront of him.

“Yea, boss?” She says as she picks at her nails. He fights the urge to roll his eyes as he calmly asks, “Please show us all the information you gathered about the anomaly and what should we expect.”

“Isn’t that your job as the leader to do that?” The computer teases as Miguel glares at her.

“It does sound a lot more interesting when you explain it, sir.” A voice purrs beside him, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand. His talons crack out of his skin as he grinned his teeth. Luckily, the red glow from the map allowed his heated cheeks to blend in.

“Well, (L/N), Maybe you should learn how to listen more to others.” Miguel grits out.

“Yea, hot stuff.” One of the spidermen whistles. “I’ll let you listen to me all night long.” He flirts as he uses the lense of his mask to wink at her.

The table almost cracks beneath the grip he on it as he tries to focus back on Lyla. “Parker-7853, you better watch your mouth before I send you home to your wife…” He warns he avoids eye contact.

The room goes back to the normal silence it was before as they all paid attention to Lyla explain the rules of the mission and the best ways to take out the anomaly without causing too much destruction to the fabric of space. Miguel focuses intently in front of him, but nothing the AI says processes through his brain.

The only thing he can think about was the burning gaze of the woman beside him. How she scoots a little closer and lightly traces her nail along his thigh.

‘Shit…’

As the agonizing minutes past by, the torture only got worse. Slight brushes along his leg and side, silent muttering of sweet nothings, disguised questions to hide the flirty remarks, and hyper attention on all of her perfume drove him mad.

His stomach was all in knots as he tried to remain composed as the meeting drew closer to the end. His fingers itched from the talons digging so deep into the chair as his fangs ached for a relief from the hunger she started in him. It’s hard to believe that she isn’t a Silk variant with how much she affected him….

The tension building in the room went unacknowledged but not unnoticed by the other spider men as Miguel’s signature frown was now a hardened scowl. The others didn’t dare point it out. They knew better than to call out their leader for being obviously distracted from the mission. They were all there when Miles Morales was at their base.

As the meeting ended, every spider man rushed out of the room before Miguel could properly dismiss them, leaving only him and his problem. The she-devil smiles sweetly as him as she stands up and innocently says,

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Right, Papi?” Her eyes shining with a look of mischief until she realized she broke the last bit of his resolve.

“Leaving so soon?” Miguel uncharacteristically smirks as he stands up and follows behind the woman. “I was hoping…” He pushes a button to cause the door to slam shut before the spider could escape his web. “We can have a quick chat about your behavior today.”

She turns and looks up at him in shock for a brief moment before slipping on her usual mask of flirtation. Her lovely eyes jumping from his looming figure towards any other way she could possibly escape. This wasn’t the usual reaction she would get from Miguel. He would normally scold her or roll his eyes at her advances, but today was different.

She’s fucked this time.

“Oh? I get some alone time with you today, Guapito?” She stuttered out as the growing dread and excitement bubbles up from her stomach into her rapid beating heart.

“Did you enjoy that?” Miguel asks sweetly, ignoring her comment as he stands just inches in front of her. His hand comes up beside her head and is placed against the door. His body leans forward as his open hand supports his weight. The tangible effect of watching his arm and shoulder flex from the strain almost causes her to pull her lip in between her teeth.

“En-enjoy what?” She acts coy as she tries to keep her eyes on his chest. She watches it vibrate with the deep cruel chuckle he releases and her own heart starts trembling as the smell of his cologne suffocates the air around them.

“Aw, is Gatita struggling to speak now?” A coo of false concern is laced with his amusement as she feels his other hand coming up beside her head. “What’s wrong, Gatita? Cat got your tongue?”

He chuckles at her struggling to respond as he threads his talons through her hair. He yanks her head back against the door softly as his hunger filled eyes burn into her wide ones. Jealousy and a long denied desire were now pouring out into his smirk as he leans down whispering,

“Crees que es divertido jugar conmigo así, ¿sí? ¿Delante de todos tus colegas?” His smirk widens revealing his fangs as he trails down slightly. Her body starts to shake from the anticipation as his nose traces fire from her cheek bone and along her jawline.

“I-I don’t-“ Miguel hushes her softly as his other hand comes to rest on her hip. “Pobre gatita... ni siquiera puede defenderse... incluso cuando otro hombre amenaza con llevársela a casa…” He tuts at her as the talons lightly dig into her neck and hip.

“Estuve a punto de pensar en tomarte en ese mismo momento... que todos escuchen lo buena chica que puedes ser para mí…” The Spider Woman had to bite her lip to hold back the noise building in the back of her throat as his fangs lightly scrape against her throat as he uttered sweetly bad things to her.

He smirks at this before saying, “Tal vez incluso te paralice con mi veneno para que puedas suplicar sin poder hacer nada... pero te gustaría eso, ¿verdad, niña bonita?”

She vigorously nods as the mask of false bravado finally falls off before Miguel tightens his grip in her hair, causing a soft moan to escape her pretty glossed lips.

“Words, Gatita. I want to hear you…” He scolds as he looks at how pathetic the once flirty spider had become in his touch.

“Yes!” She admits as her hands shot up and clung to his chest as the stinging from her scalp causes her to yelp.

“Good…” His face comes back up to her own as he starts to lean toward. Her own eyes flutter shut as she waits for the feeling of his lips against her own.

But nothing came. Instead she felt his hands completely remove themselves off of her as her eyes shot open. Miguel chuckles at the stop whine as he smirks devilishly at her.

“This will have to continue another time, Gatita…” He says as he unlocks the door. His face quickly trains back to the normal stern expression he always wears before saying, “But, don’t you dare try to embarrass me in front of the others again or else I will do as I promised…”

The spider scurries out of there with a tight “Yes, sir.” As Miguel chuckles in satisfaction.

Before he could leave, the yellow AI materializes again with a wicked smile on her face as she teases, “So you do like her?…if you’re gonna sleep with her, please don’t do it when I’m around. It was hard enough watching your two eye fuck the whole-“

“Lyla, shut up.”

~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Ella va a ser la muerte para mí.- She's gonna be the death of me.

Gatita-little kitten?? ((It also said it meant cooked 😭))

You think it's fun to play with me like this, okay? In front of all your colleagues?- Crees que es divertido jugar conmigo así, ¿sí? ¿Delante de todos tus colegas?

Pobre gatita... ni siquiera puede defenderse... incluso cuando otro hombre amenaza con llevársela a casa…-Poor little kitten...can't even defend herself...even when another man threatens to take her home...

Estuve a punto de pensar en tomarte en ese mismo momento... que todos escuchen lo buena chica que puedes ser para mí…—I almost thought about taking you right then and there...let them all hear how much of a good girl you can be for me…

Tal vez incluso te paralice con mi veneno para que puedas suplicar sin poder hacer nada... pero te gustaría eso, ¿verdad, niña bonita?-Maybe even paralyze you with my venom so you can helplessly beg...but you would like that wouldn't you, pretty girl?

#miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel ohara #fanfic #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara

870 notes · View notes

mt-oe · 8 months ago

Text

𝙈𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙁𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙—𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙞𝙯𝙪 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

I've been getting addicted with playing Valorant recently and thought it would be fun to try and make some hcs for Mizu <3

Clove's release is so exciting and I'm so happy non-binary people are given some representation in games. They're so much fun and their ult mechanic is such a game-changer.

Please tell me if you'd like me to make more of these or if I should make some for other games too (as long as I know them well enough).

Anywho, let's go!

Enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warnings: not proofread, the use of "clutch or gay", she/her for mizu

mizu has a crush on you :3

✦ Her fave maps are Icebox and Bind. Whenever you play comp with her and these maps roll up, you're internally fucking hollering. You're thanking every possible deity there is, dancing in your seat, kissing your monitor.

She's such a god in these maps. Every good agent for every role, every lineup, and even some pro play shit strats, she memorized it.

She loves Icebox for how easy it was to clear angles and how easy it was to formulate AND predict strategies. The map was pretty straightforward and no bullshit. Perfect for her.

Bind for the outplay potentials. Teleporters + Yoru TP/Omen TP and Ult? There's no telling where she may be. Will she plant in A? Will she plant in B? Maybe she's already flanking? Who knows?

✦ Mizu doesn't buy skins but she DOES have some. They're gifts from you and her friends! An oni phantom, neptune spectre, and sovereign marshal from Akemi; An arcane sheriff from Taigen because they're probably taking their shit-talking to League too; and a reaver vandal, reaver karambit, and the oni katana from you.

She doesn't really give a shit about skins, but ever since she was gifted one, she started appreciating them. You'll see her using the inspect animation once in a while if she picks up a skin she's never seen before.

If it's just a chill comp game or she's playing solo queue, she'll use the oni katana. If she's playing with you and/or wants to show off, she'll use the reaver karambit. Of course you have to go with the sexy one when trying to impress.

✦ Doesn't shit talk heavily, but shit talks in a way that'll piss you off.

"Ooooh shit someone's mad," you laughed over the voice-comms, watching as the enemy Reyna started spewing all sorts of insults at your team. It was mostly targeted at Mizu, who was also playing Reyna, and was top-fragging. Soon after that fiasco, you'd see Mizu type "." in all chat every time she killed the enemy Reyna, got a clutch, and even an ace. Everyone was snickering at her antics, finding it funny how Mizu was shitting on them while the enemy was clearly progressively getting even more tilted.

On the other hand, if Taigen was there and Mizu failed to clutch the round, he'd be laughing loudly over the voice chat, making fun of her over and over. He'd even type "GG [insert Mizu's current agent]. Aimlabs is free" in team chat, which was so fucking embarrassing. The moment Mizu catches Taigen lacking, she'll be having a hayday in the team chat, spamming "GG [insert Taigen's current agent], Aimlabs is free" over and over which effectively pisses Taigen off.

✦ Along with the previous one, if someone ever decided to trashtalk you, she's going absolutely feral. She still wouldn't be spewing nonsense, but you'll notice her becoming more aggressive.

"Didn't you just use your ult?" You asked her, spectating as she used another Reyna ult which you swore she just used two rounds ago. "I just feel like playing a little better today," she replies. But then goes to strafe like a fucking bitch, doing a poppin' swing once or thrice, making the enemy struggle before killing the enemy and t-bagging them aggressively.

You raised an eyebrow at her antics but still laughed at it. "You sure you're not here for blood?" you joked. "Yeah.." she said while spamming your trashtalker's KD status in all-chat.

✦ There's no doubt about how well she plays with different agents, but her worst agent to use would be Gekko. Something about Dizzy's trajectory and letting Wingman plant and defuse felt off to her. Maybe it was because she was used to having control over the speed of her flashes and being able to fake defuse.

✦ Actually responds to "clutch or gay" jokes.

If a random teammate or anyone in your friend group (mainly Taigen) decides to use that joke on her during a clutch situation, it doesn't matter if it's a 1v1, a 1v5, a 1v5 + Sage res + Clove ult. She's winning. She's fucking winning.

You watched in anticipation as Mizu, using Omen, went through attacker spawn in Breeze. It was a 1v4, having picked one off when she picked up the spike. For a moment, you thought of something before typing "clutch or gay" in team chat. It worked for your other friends and randos, why not try it?

The moment she read that chat from you, you could immediately see Omen throwing his weapons off of the map. The noise of the agent's footsteps prompting the enemy to shoot him. "Bro what the fuck are you doing?" Taigen groans, annoyance heavy in his voice. Mizu doesn't respond in voice chat, but you hear her typing. After a while, a chat pops up.

(Whisper) From mizu: did you see that?

(Whisper) To mizu: mhm. why'd u do that :c

(Whisper) From mizu: you said clutch or gay

(Whisper) From mizu: i didn't clutch.

But she only ever does this to you.

✦ Actually plays fill but everyone in your friend group decided to place her as a duelist. She's going to treat every agent like a damn duelist anyway. Why place her somewhere else? You get site early and fast + She gets higher RR from combat score. It's a win-win. Plus, she loves secretly showing off to you. She relishes the "woah where'd you learn to satchel like that?", the "nice kill!" when she wins in an Iso 1v1, and the way you bought her an op upon her request when she used Jett as if you automatically trusted her.

#bes mizu x reader #bes mizu #bes x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu x you #mizu imagine

110 notes · View notes

crazyunsexycool · 6 months ago

Text

A love as sweet as honey

Reader appreciation week request

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: Make sure you send an ask as part of my reader appreciation ask game!! Here's a little extra requested by @talesofadragon

Tiny Hands

Prompt:

From the Holding Hands prompt/tiny hands in big hands

Picture our Honey all pregnant and glowing with little Honey Bee. Maybe she’s touching her pretty belly, and maybe Lottie is also with her, and Stevie is just marveling at the interaction thinking how his Honey’s hands are so small, Lottie’s hands are even smaller, and his baby girl’s hands are going to be even more tiny!!🥺🥺

Series masterlist

Steve sat on the couch of his living room. The bright sunlight shone through the windows that took up half the wall of his new home with you. It happened to be next to the Barnes residence. He watched with a smile as you smoothed your hand over your swollen belly.

Steve had never paid much attention to how much smaller your hands were compared to his. Soft and delicate against his rough, calloused hands. But he watched now as you talked and moved your hands over your belly. A hand stretches out only to hold an even smaller one.

“She’s kicking right here. Do you feel her?” You asked Lottie.

She nodded and giggled at the sensation.

“Peanut moved wike this in mama’s belly too. Is so funny.” Lottie says as both her hands rest on your belly and she moves them around as if trying to map out the baby’s position.

“Well the only way she’ll stop is if her daddy has his hand on my belly, isn’t that right Steve?” You turn to look at him with a bright smile and even brighter eyes.

“Hhm?”

“Steebie why you no wisten?”

“Sorry sweetheart, it’s just that you both look so pretty.” He smiles before placing his hand right where he knows his little girl likes to kick. “What are you doing in there, somersaults?”

He gets a little push against his calloused palm and he smiles. Steve moves closer to you on the couch and places an arm over your shoulders while his hand is still splayed over your bump. Your free hand finds his hand and he enjoys how well they fit together.

Charlotte talks about how she already saw honey bee and how cute she was. Steve can’t help but picture his little girl already. Chubby cheeks, button nose, sparkling eyes, little feet and little hands. Little hands with tiny chubby fingers that he’s already wrapped around. One’s he’ll hold while he helps his little honey bee how to walk. Little hands that will hold your slightly bigger ones while you walk around the lab. Little hands that will make messes and touch things they aren’t supposed to. Little hands that already hold his whole heart and will until the day he dies.

“I can’t wait to meet her already.” You say softly while looking up at him lovingly.

“Me either, honey. She’ll be just as beautiful as you.”

Permanent taglist:

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10

@nalny5

@Sturchling

@angywritesstuff

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions

@almosttoopizza

@littleseasiren

@pono-pura-vida

@/talesofadragon

@midnightramyeoncravings

@bunnygirlwriter876

@pandaxnieenke

@kandis-mom

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@braveclementine

series taglist:

@ozwriterchick

@nekoannie-chan

@5upersoldiers1xt

@buckystevelove

@pumpkin-babydoll

@haruvalentine4321

@rebeccapineapple

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

@capswife

@spikeluv84

@vicmc624

#steve rogers x reader #girl dad!Steve rogers #captain America fic #a love as sweet as honey extra #a love as sweet as honey ask #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

54 notes · View notes

jessicas-pi · 1 year ago

Text

So the Ahsoka show (and a dream I had last night) gave me an idea. Imagine: AU where in Chapter 11 of The Mandalorian, Bo-Katan tells Din to go to Ahsoka... but also says that if Ahsoka won't help, then he should try finding her apprentice, Sabine Wren, on Lothal.

So after Ahsoka refuses to train Grogu, Din goes to Lothal before he tries Tython, which is therefore where everything with the Darktroopers goes down, which means that (a) Sabine is able to give Hera a heads up that the Empire is Doing Something, and (b) Sabine ends up inadvertently roped into the events of the rest of Mando S2. The Grogu rescue mission sort of helps her feel better---at least to feel like she's doing something. Din, meanwhile, sees someone just like him, who needs to keep busy to keep her mind off her trauma, so he decides to call her up for a little "help" whenever he feasibly can claim he needs it, or for some Jedi Training™ with Grogu (who didn't go with Luke, due to no trip to Tython and no seeing stone), or whatever excuse he can make up, which ends with Sabine getting pulled into BoBF and Mando S3, too.

Highlights include:

Din & Sabine: *win the fight with Moff Gideon together* Sabine: *takes the Darksaber from him, just to disarm him* Sabine: WAIT ACTUALLY NOPE NEVER MIND *throws the Darksaber as far as she can & refuses to pick it up again*

Sabine: You want ME to teach your kid? Din: Yes. Sabine: You do realize that I can't use the Force? Din: Yes. Sabine: And that my master stopped training me because I wasn't good enough? Din: Yes. Sabine: And that I have absolutely nothing to teach him? Din: Yes. Sabine: ...nothing I say is going to deter you, is it? Din: No.

Sabine: I just... feel... lost. Boba: Well, you could always work for me on Tatooine. Fennec: Have you ever considered an assassin business partnership? Bo-Katan: It's gonna take me a loooooooong time for me to get over you winning the Darksaber again, but you are my best friend's daughter, so if you choose to, you may come with me. Greef Karga: The Nevarro school could use an art teacher, you know. The Armorer: You are always welcome to take the Creed and join our covert. Din: How do you feel about being adopted? [later] Ahsoka, to Hera: Should we be concerned about the number of questionable figures trying to take in Sabine? Hera, having Maul flashbacks: Trust me. It could be a lot worse.

Sabine: You need to go to the Living Waters? Yeah I know where that is, I can take you. Din: That's a relief. Otherwise I was going to go ask Bo-Katan about them. Sabine: Oh? Let's ask her anyway. I'm totally down to bother Bo-Katan. Any time, any day. Kalevala HERE WE COME-

Din: While I appreciate your modifications to IG-12, Sabine, I'm not so sure about the words you've added. Grogu, delightedly smacking his new button: KRIFF. KRIFF. KRIFF. KRIFF. KRIFF.

Din: You had me at 'battle droids.' Sabine, giggling: yOu HaD mE aT 'BaTtLe DrOiDs'

Sabine, watching Din make his 'your song is not yet written' speech: This is sooo much better than the holodramas. Axe Wolves, side-eyeing her: You don't get out much, do you? Sabine: Nope. Want some popcorn?

.....ANYWAY, my point is, Sabine gets dragged into All The Mandoverse Shenanigans. Which is pretty funny on its own, right? But it gets better.

Because it just so happens that Din is on Lothal with Grogu when Ahsoka shows up with the map. and he kinda just....gets pulled along for the ride. So then HE'S in the AHSOKA show, mostly just trying to make sure Sabine doesn't do anything crazy, following her when she does it anyway, and being confused about Everything. Which lends itself to additional hilarity--

Din: Nightsisters? I heard they were witches. Ahsoka: They are. Din, internally: Oh my manda, I finally KNEW something!

Din: The evil Jedi are chasing us! Sabine: They're not Jedi! Din: They're not? But they have laser swords like you! Ahsoka: There's still a difference! Din: What difference? Ahsoka: Jedi use the Light side! These are Dark side users! Din: There are different sides of your sorcery??

[Sabine and Ezra reunite] Din: I'm so glad you finally found your husband, Sabine. Sabine: Ezra: Din: The crabs: *start gossiping* Sabine: He's... he's not my... husband... Din, confused: But you've clearly been living the Mandalorian marriage vows? One when together, one when apart, sharing all... Sabine: Yeah, no, that's- that's just coincidence. Din: Hold on. You live in his house, and you keep all his things, and you refuse to leave Lothal for more than a week or two at a time because it makes you miss him too much- Sabine: *makes stop talking gesture* Din: -and you gaze lovingly at the enormous mural you've painted of him, and you left everything behind the second you knew you had a chance to save him, and as far as I can tell, you've been utterly devoted to him since the moment he disappeared ten years ago- Sabine: *stop talking gestures intensify* Ezra: Wait, Sabine, is this true? Din: -and you're telling me you two aren't married? Sabine:

#jessica's random thoughts #twice the mandos twice the chaos #sabezra #dinbo #anyway yeah that's My Nonsense For The Day

173 notes · View notes

the-anime-enthusiast · 3 months ago

Note

today is Iida's birthday !!!! maybe some drabbles/headcannons about what it would be like to celebrate with him :3?

TENYAS BDAY‼️‼️

headcannons and drabbles 😜

for everyone else who has requested stuff and I haven't replied, I'm so sorry 😭 I just moved 4 states away from home by myself and I've been busy ASFFF but I'm finally starting to get some free time again so pls be patient with me, I appreciate it 🙏

GIFT IDEAS 🎁

Okay so this first one is oddly specific, but every time I go on my own personal Tenya Iida bend, I alwaaayyyss think of this. My fav "perfect gift for him" idea is a pair of glasses (stick with my now), but not just any pair, a pair with his hero name

"Ingenium"

engraved in the side‼️ It may seem kinda dumb cause hes got like, idk a bagillion pairs of glasses, but these are perfect for special occasions and we all know he prefers the finer things in life so I think he's love this 😌😌 (possibly sheds tears bc he loves his brother like it's nobody's business and he feels the weight of this gift in his soul, ong)

My favorite gag gift ideas all come down to one thing, oranges. (ifykyk but de I will still explain) So, as a lot of Tenya fans know, his quirk uses oranges/orange juice as the fuel for his engines (no I'm not lying, it's random ik, his family has so many random traditions and small details thrown into the show, I love them sm 💞)

Like many people, I love gag gifts, and I would have a field day with this. I'm talking sunglasses shaped like oranges, bottles upon bottles of assorted orange juice, Sunny D merch, the whole nine yards. While this HC is made to be a gag gift, I think he would actually lose his shit over this, like best gift he's ever received type shit. He'd keep a specific shelf on his bookshelf for all things orange you get him (like a shrine or sm shi 💀) It def weirds ppl out when they don't know the story behind the shelf, but he loves it 😌👍

Another gag gift idea I love 😋 (okay so rq)

fun fact Abt me: I'm in mechanics and I js know bro would eat up auto mechanics related gag gifts Soo much 😭😭

Like cleaner for his mufflers, car oil (strictly for shits and giggles) js dumb shit like that 😭 Again, definitely has a stash/shrine for all this stuff, everytime you tell him he can get rid of it

"it was just a joke tenya, you know you don't have to keep it right?"

"well dear, it could come in handy one day! You never know ☺️"

Spending the Day Together 💞

Bros prim and proper, if your lucky, you wake up before him. It's no secret that appreciates the finer things in life (and the small things, atp he appreciates literally everything. Tenya is an angel sent from heaven and don't you forget it ✋) But if you decide to wake this man up to some bomb ass breakfast, I'm talking bacon, eggs, possibly pancakes, and ofc a big ass glass of orange juice he WILL tear up. I know deep in my soul he's an emotional (or at least dramatic) gift reciever.

I feel like his birthday would actually be a pretty average day, other than the morning and night. He ofc wants to have breakfast with you, whether it's cooking or the two of you going out, but he makes a NIIGHT out of his birthday. Y'all are doing it all don't even play ✋ Anything he could think of that you would also enjoy, is going on the list. (ofc there's a list, this is Teny Iida were talking Abt 🙄🙄)

There happens to be a festival near by? ✅

Oh your in a town known for it's street foods? Take a wild guess where your going. ✅

Open Business Shack street strip? You're walking that thing about 50 times. ✅

Art Museums. Movies. Live Music. Wining and Dining. Walks in a Park. Walks on the beach. Hero conventions. Literally any event near or on his birthday y'all are going to. You can try to plan all you want for him but he's got things mapped out before you ever thought possible. Something to be grateful for though, he doesn't mind it. He doesn't mind planning all of these things for HIS birthday because making you happy in the process is more than enough for him to get by (selfless baddie).

At the End of the Day 🌆

As much as I'd like to think, and we'd all like to think, that Tenya gets in a good amount of alone time with you at the end of his birthday, it just doesn't happen (ikik trust the process 😔)

After a long day of walking around the town, eating great food, spending way to much money on entrance fees to museums, gift shops, and that great food I mentioned, bros pooped (sry guys I'm js a girl and idk how else to word that with equal humor to that phrase 😔)

The second you walk through that door bags are crashing into the ground, shoes are being thrown across the room (not rly tho cuz u leave ur shoes by the front door 👍), clothes are being scattered across the living and bedroom. All bro wants to do is crash into his bed. He barely has time to out his night cap on 😔😔

It's slightly mundane but sweet because trust me ✋ After a day like the one he has planned y'all's bed sounds like heaven. I mean you can swear you hear the angels themselves singing to you once y'all slink into bed together, and honestly he wouldn't have it any other way. Spending an amazing day with his amazing partner, then getting into an even more amazing bed with said partner at the end of his lil adventure 💞

this is kinda on the short side, but it's late ash where I'm at and I'm tired asff BUT I FINALLY WROTE SMT AGAIN 😍😍 (praise God life was getting so boring) I hope y'all enjoy! I haven't been an iida girlie for awhile now but y'all are bringing it back 😜 (not to mention that one scene from the anime where it's class 1-A vs Deku and bros looking extra yummy) (slay) (pls don't come for me I'm 18 and have been watching this show since I was 12)(I'm also asexual so I'm not being weird I swear)(ik some of my reposts say otherwise but guys good writing is good writing what can I say 😭🙏)

Hope y'all have a wonderful night!

Lots of love 💞

BYYYEE ‼️‼️

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #fanfiction #headcannons #x reader #tenya iida #mha iida #iida x reader #bnha iida #iida #mha tenya #tenya x reader #bnha tenya #tenya lida #ingenium #happy birthday tenya #slay #slayyyyy

52 notes · View notes

whoishotteranimepolls · 5 months ago

Note

Defend Your Blurbo Submission (this is LONG—1105 words, sorry!)

Dorsal Fin Appreciation or Lack Thereof

Hear me out y’all, but Arlong the Saw seriously needs more love in this fandom than he is getting. This is not a plea to the folks who don’t go feral at all for anyone in One Piece, this plea is for my fellow One Piece fans. Why so angry?

Out of all the villains in the entire franchise, and I am 100% ignoring the Live Action by Netflix—this is about OG canon Arlong from the anime (haven’t really read the manga yet), he seems to be the most hated. I have seen more genuine love and affection for Kleenex Boi Trebol than I have for He Carries Two Fish Sticks Everywhere He Goes Arlong.

Yes, he did conquer an island in the East Blue. Yes, he did extort money from the citizens monthly (effectively making him a loan shark). Yes, he took a young Nami and had her work for him, originally under horrible circumstances. And yes, he did kill Nami’s adoptive mother Bell-Mere. I feel like y’all shut him out of fandom love simply for killing Bell-Mere.

Out of all the villains that regularly see love, he killed a whopping one person. One.

He let Bell-Mere give parting words to her girls, he let her say goodbye, and he actually killed her rather quickly. He didn’t torture her, didn’t rape her, didn’t drag anything out. He stated that if you can’t pay, you die. He didn’t lie. She couldn’t pay so she died. Arlong is very cut-and-dry, you know exactly what you’re going to get with him.

Compare him to someone like Eustass Kid, who has killed way more innocent people than Arlong ever will. Kid got his bounty based on his egregiously high civilian casualty count. His big bad bounty came from innocent blood being spilled, that’s what makes Kid so damn dangerous to the government. Because let’s face it, he fails as much as Buggy does in the whole pirating thing. He took on Kaido at least once and lost and he took on Shanks twice and lost. He doesn’t win his pirate battles; he just wins at killing people who can’t defend themselves against him. And y’all eat him up like candy.

Arlong kills one backstory character and he’s the most hated man in One Piece. He’s better looking than Hody Jones and many other characters, he’s more humane than even he wants to admit, and he had great character development too.

He started off treating Nami like a slave or a pet and in ten years’ time grew to consider her a valued officer and crew mate. He wasn’t just fighting to keep his cartographer; he was fighting to keep the only female member of his pirate family from leaving.

Doflamingo killed his own father when he was a child, murdered his own brother, murdered countless other people, and overthrew a fucking country. And y’all drool over him like a stuck pig at a luau.

Arlong was a pretty solid pirate all things considered. He plundered consistently over the course of 10 years and built himself an empire on land rather than a fleet. He had a cunning plan. He had minions within the Marines (just as Doffy did with Vergo, but Arlong’s were actual marines), so he infiltrated through human frailty. He only committed one act of murder.

He had all the maps, a creature from the Grand Line and let’s not forget he and all but one of his crew were also from the Grand Line. He kicked ass. He even had convictions; he wasn’t all about himself. He cared about his own species, every single member of his crew, and he never turned on any of them. He did exploit a loophole with Nami but regarding his own people, he treasured all of them.

When they did something wrong or disagreed with him, he never harmed them. He didn’t treat them like shit. Their lives were precious to him. Hody Jones not only abused other fishmen/fishwomen, but he also flat out killed them. He murdered his own monarch and any fishman who didn’t agree with him 100% was killed. Arlong would fall on his own sword before even letting so much as the idea of killing any of his own kind cross his mind.

When Arlong did have disagreements with other fishmen, he just separated from them and went his own way. He never killed his own kind, wouldn’t dream of it. Arlong has lines in the sand that he will not cross, he has boundaries and respects them. Arlong actually has morals that he adheres to. Hody Jones is amoral, and Doffy isn’t far behind. Hell, Arlong has more solidified convictions and morals than Sakazuki, who like Hody, kills his own subordinates if they disagree with him.

Arlong really isn’t that villainous of a villain. In my opinion, he is a deeply traumatized person who never dealt with his trauma. He bottled it all up and is slowly consuming him. He’s damaging himself by doing that and he is able to be mislead by thinking he’s doing right and following solid ideals. He truly believes his species is superior and he truly believes that they need to rise up and take their freedom.

Now, he isn’t wrong. Fishmen are treated horribly and they do need to take their freedom, but treating humans the exact way they have been treated is also wrong. Arlong is so deeply wounded that he hasn’t figured that part out yet. He was starting to with Nami evolving in his crew. He even admitted to her intelligence and skill a few times, he was slowly starting to mend his ways when she left.

Arlong is deeply traumatized, misguided, but redeemable. And yet, no one gives him a chance. How can you all heap the love on civilian slaughterer Kid, pirate failure Buggy, snotastic Trebol, familicide Doffy, royal traitor Crocodile, domestic terrorist Sakazuki (because like me, some of y’all out there love him too), fish gutter Hody Jones, delulu “deity” Enel, lard ass Blackbeard, or giant psycho Kaido with the scrawny legs that shouldn’t be able to support him but y’all can’t find three nice things to say about Arlong the Saw and his glorious dorsal fin?

I mean come on! Have you seen that sexy dorsal fin of his? He’s tall, has luscious locks, teeth that regenerate, two fresh fish sticks in his pants, a cool ass sword, decent fashion sense, and he can breathe underwater which is just so cool.

Why must you hate him so? He’s not that bad all things considered.

Defend Your Blurbo #7

Please remember this post is about curiosity and genuine fandom discourse. Be kind with your answers because this is not a debate essay, this is a discussion between fans.

Well, in case anyone doesn't know who Arlong is, he's an early One Piece villain.

Now, this anon took a much different approach to the series than the others, so have fun with this and One Piece fandom. Defend your Blorbo

#defend your blurbo #arlong #one piece #anime #not a poll #spicy

44 notes · View notes

robynrocksforbrains · 1 year ago

Text

The Map and The Painting

Ohhhh boy if there's one thing about me it's that I'm gonna pick up on some poetic symbolism that honestly maybe wasn't even intended but I'm gonna talk about it to my heart's content anyway!!! Considering how the Duffers talk about the van scene though... And how long they spent filming it... Maybe it was intended. Who knows? I certainly don't!

The Map = Mike's relationship w/ El

The Painting = Mike's relationship w/ Will (obviously)

When the van scene opens, Mike is holding a map. He is looking at that map. This is the map they're using to get to the coordinates of NINA. This is the map they're using to find El.

Mike is holding this map while he vents his insecurities regarding his relationship with El. He looks and sounds dejected. He looks and sounds lost. He is holding a map, a navigation tool, and yet he is lost.

[I wish I had photos but I do not, so just go watch the scene for yourself if you wanna be reminded of just how much is going on in this poor boy's head.]

If this map is a representation of his relationship with El, that would mean this relationship makes him feel lost. Which isn't a stretch considering that is literally exactly what we see in their relationship time and time again. Mike loses himself in this relationship. He becomes someone we barely recognize in s3. And then in s4 we see that he doesn't know how to navigate his relationship with her. He's insecure, he feels inferior, he is completely in the dark about what her life is actually like. He's lost.

[This would not be the first time El is associated with a navigation tool. Specifically navigation tools that are broken/not serving their intended purpose. In s1 she tampers with the compass and leads Mike, Lucas, and Dustin on a wild goose chase. Her intentions were pure, she just wanted to keep them safe. But still, she's associated with a "broken" compass. She broke it. She's the reason they veer off the path to finding Will. (not hating on her for this, like I said, I know her intentions were pure, but that is what happened.) Of course, in the case of the map, the dysfunction is entirely symbolic, and likely not even an intended interpretation. I'm just a little insane.]

He's rambling and he looks lost, and he gives up. He cuts his ramblings off, apologizes, and calls his feelings stupid. Will lets him know that he doesn't have to be sorry. So he tries to continue, but he's at a loss for words. He doesn't know how to describe everything he's feeling. He doesn't even know where to begin.

"I don't know... I just... Uhhh..." // "You're scared of losing her"

Slowed to appreciate Finn Wolfhard's talent

Will says that, and Mike's demeanor completely shifts. He looks like he feels seen for the first time in a long time. We know he's been lost, but we also know he's been hiding. He hasn't wanted to be found. But Will just got pretty damn close to finding him, and Mike doesn't look scared. He looks relieved. He looks amazed that Will was even looking to find him in the first place.

Mike doesn't deny what Will says. He confirms it. He's vulnerable because Will makes him feel safe. So then Will gives him the painting.

This is when Mike sets aside the map in favor of holding the painting.

The map is formal, mature, grown up. Like how he feels he needs to be. He views his relationship with El as a necessary step to growing up. As a necessary step to leaving his childhood, and his childish feelings behind.

"We're not kids anymore. I mean, what did you think really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?"

The painting - Will's painting - is reminiscent of the kind of map you'd see in a fantasy world. A scroll that holds the secrets of the universe. The key to defeating evil once and for all. The kind of map you'd find in a fantasy game. The kind of game you played with your best friends. Before everything got so scary. Before everything got so complicated. Before you grew to be afraid of who you are. Before you were forced to grow up. Before everything changed.

"Yeah. I guess I did. I really did."

Mike holds the painting with so much care. He unrolls it with so much care.

This isn't anything new from Mike. We know how much he loves Will's art. How much he respects it. We've seen this before.

(Something I love about the way this is filmed is that it feels reminiscent of scenes in fantasy movies where the protagonist has found some ancient map or scroll and is unrolling it. I really can't know for sure if this was intentional, but it's the feeling I get from it. I don't have a scene to compare it to because I cannot for the life of me think of one, but I know I've seen scenes like that before. And this feels like that)

Once he's looking at the painting itself, he lights up. He has this childlike wonder about him.

Something that we haven't seen from him in a while.

And it's no surprise that this painting is what lights that spark in him again. I mean just look at it. It's their childhood lovingly painted by his best friend. It's Mike and his three best friends, the people he's been through hell with, fighting a monster. Something they have real life experience doing. But in this painting it's not scary, because it's an echo of their adventures before the monsters were real. Before everything changed.

Will points to the shield. The shield has a heart on it. The shield also conveniently looks like an arrow that is conveniently pointing to Will the Wise. Our eyes naturally follow this, at least mine do. Like they're following a map. And if my eyes did that, then I'm pretty sure Mike's did too.

In the same way the literal map is leading Mike to El, the painting acts as a figurative map that leads Mike to Will.

Mike looks dejected and lost while holding the map. He talks about his insecurities and expresses that he feels inferior, and that he's not needed.

He lights up when holding the painting. Will uses the painting to tell him that he's wrong about himself. That he's a leader. That he is needed and he always will be. He looks as if maybe he's on his way to finding himself, and in the process, finding Will.

So when his last significant interaction with Will in s4 is him reaching into the light to grasp his shoulder and reaffirm that they're a team...

And when he ends the season with El walking away from him, and instead of following her, he chooses to stay by Will's side. Ready to face whatever comes next as a team. Ready to fight the monster. With his convenient little pocket arrow conveniently pointing to Will...

Well it's not really a surprise, is it? This is exactly the path that the figurative map that is the painting is leading Mike down. The path it is leading the audience down. We haven't gotten to the destination yet, but we have a pretty good idea of where we're going.

Mike however? I'm not too sure if he's fully aware of what he's stumbling toward.

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #mike wheeler is in love with will byers #mike wheeler analysis #byler analysis #byler van scene #byler painting #i will never stop being unnecessarily poetic about this ship #stranger things #this is really just artistic expression

366 notes · View notes