#c!mangie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

waffles-art-writing · 2 years ago

Text

Forgotten Keys - Soap Mactavish x Fem! Reader

Summary: Off duty, it’s nearly christmas and dog sitting? Feeding a mangy mutt which ends up with you locked outside your own home, no way to get inside unless you want to kick your door in, which you don’t want to deal with. No phone, no keys, trip to town on foot you guess. Sudden near miss and a yelling match with a stranger, another man who comes to diffuse the situation, you soon come to realise who that man is.

(There may be a part two if wanted lol)

Got inspo by another fix that someone wrote, it was a Reader x Ghost though and they bumped into each other at the supermarket. Please if anyone knows who wrote tell me so i can credit them for giving me inspo!

Proofread: Somewhat

Pairing: Soap x Fem!Reader

WordCount: 3K-ish

Age Rating: PG 13

Codename: (You Choose :) )

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name, C/N - Codename.

Warning/Info: Slow Burn, Cursing, Fluffy Fluff! Sweet and Gentle Soap, Lime (a bit of a spicy make out sesh)

——————————————

It’s cold in Scotland.

Obviously.

It is only a few thousand Kilometres from the North Pole.

You moved here just before joining the military, only because your uncle and aunt needed some help with the small farm they had. You quickly fell in love with the small village, it was a town bordering England and Scotland. Duns. Small town, the type of town where everyone knows everyone through someone else, not unusual for a small Scottish town. You could walk your dog and be greeted by at least five people that knew you, or they know you through someone else. Even if you live a couple minutes out of town on a farm, at least someone will say Good Morning of some sort. Kinda nice but somewhat weird if you dive into the connections deep enough.

You roll out of bed, knowing you have to get up, knowing you have basically nothing in the pantry, maybe a bag of potato chips.. Maybe? And some Coffee and tea. You do know that there is beer in the fridge, only a few bottles, maybe something frozen in the freezer? And the box full of essentials your aunt and uncle gave you when you got back. But god you couldn’t remember what there is, the day you got the call that you were needed for a mission with the 141 you practically gave all your food to your neighbour just down the street or your uncle and aunt. You don’t live far out of town, maybe a ten to fifteen minute walk? Basically a 10 minute walk to the golf course on the other side of the farmland your property backs onto. It’s nice out here but, if you wanted to go get food you gotta drive or you could risk freezing your tits off. Enough wallowing in bed, while the birds outside chirp, and the sound of the neighbours dog barking next door. You gotta feed it, they have gone away for the holidays and asked for you to feed it before their coworker? Friend? Who knows, shows up to take it with them. Which is today hopefully.

After pulling on some fuzzy socks on your feet, some random pair of cargo pants, and a hoodie. You head downstairs, you wander into the kitchen, the tiles cool under your sock wrapped feet. You fill the kettle with water and put it on to boil, you rub the sleep from your eyes as you look out the large window just above the kitchen sink where you can see your back garden and farmland past that. Another howling bark sounds out to your right, making you groan as you trudge to the front door, slipping on your already caked in mud rain boots, taking the heavy winter coat off the hook and adventuring outside into the crisp air of the winter morning. You trudge your way across your driveway, stomping through the snow, trying your best to avoid the ice underneath. You reach the side gate that leads into the back yard, you set out to find the key that's now buried under a few inches of snow and the doormat. “Fuck sakes…” you grumble as you kick the snow away, not wanting to take your hands out of your pockets.

Bark, Bark, Yap.

“Oh my god. Shut up!” You spit out to the small dog on the other side of the door, the small curly haired dog is bouncing around like some child on a sugar high on their birthday. You manage to find the key, quickly unlocking the door to let the dog out. Not caring if it freezes to death at this point, you manage to feed the mangy mutt without a problem and lock it back inside the house. Putting the key under a plant pot so it's easier to get if you need some reason to go back in there. Whoever it is that's supposed to take the dog is coming to get it today, at like lunch? Afternoon? Who cares, you don’t.

You trudge back to your place, almost landing ass first on the ice but catching yourself just before you hit the hard ground. You groan as you go to open the door, expecting it to open. Nothing, you try again twisting the handle every which way, nothing. You kick the bottom of the door to see if it’s just stuck, nothing. “No, no no no.” You curse under your breath as you take off running to the side of the house, trying the side door, no success. Back door to no avail, you check to see if any of the ground floor windows are cracked open a touch, no luck. Nothing, no way in. Your windows upstairs are locked tight due to ice. “No! Fuck, shit. This can't be happening!” You check everywhere that you have left a spare key in the past, then it dawns on you. Spare key is in your car… your locked car, one covered in snow and ice. Yeah that shitbox that's sitting happily in your driveway, taunting you with the key sitting in the cup holder of your middle console. Your face is pressed up against the glass, tears of anger, annoyance and stress form in your eyes as you slide down the side of your car. You would prefer to get shot over this any day.

You sigh as you stand up, dusting off the snow from your pants.

Your mission; get to the locksmith in town, get help, get five spare keys made to hide around your property, hot shower then drink your day away then sleep. Good Mission.

You trudge your way to town, your feet occasionally sliding on the road, the slight hill your home sits on doesn’t help. The occasional car goes past, in the wrong direction of course. Your hood is up, shoulders to your ears, hands shoved deep into your pockets. “Fuckin’ worst break ever” you curse as you start walking past more houses, families happily inside, warm and cozy, watching cringy christmas movies, sipping hot tea or hot chocolates. While you’re stuck outside on a sunny but cold winter's day, trudging to town in rubber rain boots, cargo pants that aren’t that warm, only a hoodie and jacket to keep you warm from the cold's sharp bite.

You pass a couple that is walking their dog, happily chatting, beanies and gloves, probably fuzzy socks as well. You huff as you turn the corner, seeing the market square come into view. Your soul desire is to just get to the gas station that's just past the market square. No wallet on you either, so there’s no possible way you could get a hot drink for the road. The smell from the bakery floods your nose, the sound of christmas carols, folk songs and whatever else there is playing sounds out from the small stores around the square. Kids laughing and screaming, parents talking as their kids play in the snow, all wrapped up from head to toe in warm clothing.

You finally make it to the gas station, almost. You look both ways before crossing the road, being careful to walk where there doesn’t seem to be ice, your feet slip on the ice ever so slightly. You see someone coming around the corner, mere yards from you, you're quick to throw yourself to the curb knowing the car won’t stop. You push yourself to your feet, whipping around to confront the dickhead who nearly ran you over. “What the hell man! Look with your fucking eyes!” You scream as you see a man step out of his car that is now poorly parked on the side of the road, its front tire on the curb. “Ya the one who should be lookin’ where she's going!” He barks back. You stand your ground and clench your fist.

“Maybe quit lookin’ at yer bloody phone and pay attention to the world around you, you think you're so big hotshot? Pull yer head outta ya arse and learn to drive!” “Oh shut it girly! Ya sure can’t say shit, yer the one walkin’!” “Oh why you little-” “Oi! Hey! Cut it out, what the hell are ya screaming about?” Another man’s voice cuts through. Your eyes are trained on the man in front of you, you're seething, you're holding back the urge to deck this man right here and now is powerful. “How about you just back off mate, get your arse back in your car and go home.” The new man growls out as he stands next to you, you watch as the idiotic driver looks from the other man to you. “Bet you can’t do shit even if you tried.” You raise your brow as you step forward about to lunge at the man, he’s short and stocky, you could take him. Arms wrap around your waist as you scream at the man who’s backing away to his car. You spit out any insult you can think of as you fight against the arms around you. “Aye, Lass calm down. He’s about to cry if you keep this up.” You freeze in your squirming to bash the man's head in. The arms that are around your waist loosen their hold on you, allowing you to turn to see who was holding you back.

Your eyes widen when you see the sky blue eyes, the mohawk and cocky smirk. “Soap?!” You gasp, wrapping the man in a hug. “It’s good to see you two Lass” he laughs as he holds you close, savouring your warm embrace.

“What the hell are ya’ doing here Mactavish?” You question as you let him go, looking him up and down. He’s clad in winter gear, better than what you have on, including some gloves. “Could ask you the same thing C/N” he smiles as he looks you up and down, his brows furrowing slightly at the state you’re in. “I live here, on the other side of town, a few minutes out” You shrug, temporarily forgetting why you're here in the first place. “Not surprised, but you don’t look that prepared to be walking the streets” he points out, motioning to your lack of cold weather gear. “Oh” you breathe out, your cheeks heating up, a strong contrast to the freezing temperature they were just moments ago. “This is gonna sound really stupid, I locked myself out of my house…” You chuckled nervously, finding the muddy snow beneath your boots a lot more interesting than the man in front of you, he laughs, it makes you smile as you start chuckling with him.

“How the hell did you manage that?” He chokes out while laughing. “Feeding the neighbours mangy mutt” you groan, “I forgot to bring the keys with me, and muscle memory kicked in and locked the door from the inside before closing it” you sigh. Soap shakes his head, placing a hand on your shoulder, “and you walked all that way here?” “Yep.” “Christ Lass, let me give you a ride at least” you shake your head as you walk with him towards the gas station. “No, no. It’s okay. I was just gonna ask the guy who works here who is also a locksmith to give me a ride and help me” you smile at the man next to you. “Lass, I don’t want you to waste your money on something that I can help you with.” You look at Soap with an awkward smile. “… you left your wallet as well didn’t you?” You nod your head, “and my phone…” you mumble under your breath as you notice him stopping at what you would guess is his car. A nice Jeep Wrangler. “God you are a numpty ain’t ya? Take this, go get yourself something warm” he states as he hands you a few notes of cash. You look at the money in his hand, looking back up at him. “Just take it before you starve to death.” He grabs your hand and slaps the money in it, making sure you are holding it properly. “Do you want anything? It is your money Soap…” he shakes his head as he starts fueling the vehicle. “Go get yourself something Lass, I’ll be there shortly.” He nods his head towards the building of the gas station. “O-Okay” you state as you make your way to the building, sighing when the warm air meets your frozen skin.

You’re still standing in front of the pie warmer when Soap walks in, he chuckles lightly, walking up behind you wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Still looking Lass?” He looks down at you, noticing you holding the money close to your chest. “C/N?” His voice now low as he nudges you slightly. “I don’t know which one to get…” you mumble as you stare at the hot savouries in front of you. Soap grabs a pie, steak and cheese, no surprise there. He grabs another one, the one you like most. “There, done. C’mon” he pulls you gently by the hand to the counter. You attempt to pay with the cash Soap gave you but he beats you to it with his card, paying for the food and gas quickly. You two leave thanking the workers. “Here’s the cash since I didn’t use it” you hold the cash out to the Scotsman, he looks at you with a smile, gently pushing your hand away. “Keep it, I don’t need it. Now get in before you freeze.” You sigh as you get into the passenger side, thankful to be in the warmth.

The drive to your place is short, filled with chatter as you talk about plans for the holidays. Soap is planning on just driving around, having some time to himself away from the busy life of family before going to his cousin's place for Boxing Day, only a few hours away from your town. Christmas Day is just by himself this year. You’re having a calm Christmas with your Aunt and Uncle, your half sister coming up with her husband and her kids for Boxing Day from Alnwick over the border in England, and the annual family call. You continue chatting while you eat your pies, sitting in your driveway before Soap gets to work on unlocking your house for you.

“There we go, you’re in.” He smiles as he stands up, placing the small tools back inside the glove box. You sigh in relief as you push the door open further, making sure it's unlocked. “Thank you so much Soap!” You wrap your arms around his shoulder, thanking him with a hug. His arms wrap around your waist bringing you closer, a smile on his face. “Any time Lass.” You pull back, your hands resting on his shoulders, his hands still on your waist.

You two have always been close when you joined the 141, you two kinda just clicked. Yes you got along with the others, but you two always had this way of just knowing if the other is off. Upset, angry, annoyed, tired, or just needing comfort. Yes sometimes you’d pass out on the couch together while watching a show, if one of you got too drunk the other was there to support them. If you were under the weather, Soap was always there to make you laugh or just give you company if you wanted it. You were like two peas in a pod, you didn't want to admit it to yourself, much less anyone else. But you did find Soap someone you could see yourself having a relationship with, you might even say you have a crush on him. You’d never admit that, you sure as hell wouldn't tell the very man that's in front of you that either. Even if you did, it might get in the way of your job, might even cause one fo you to join a different task force.

“Do… Do you wanna come in?” You ask softly as you let your hands slide off his shoulders, motioning into your home. Soap smiles as he lets go of your waist - albeit reluctantly - “If you don’t mind” you shake your head lightly, letting him walk in. You kick your boots off and hang your coat up, leaving them by the door neatly, Soap following your actions. “Nice place you’ve got here.” He states. None of the walls have photos, you never really cared to decorate as you're barely home, there's the old picture frame on the mantle above the fireplace. A fake plant on the dining table just off from the kitchen. “Thanks. It’s not much, but it's home I guess.” You state as you make your way into the kitchen. “Tea? Coffee?” Soap chuckles at this “I ain’t not Brit” “Oh shut it MacTavish” you both fall back into comfortable conversation, you making a cup of tea for yourself and Coffee for Soap.

You feel Soap come up from behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Soap?” You question quietly as you stand still, soaking in the warmth but confused by his sudden need to hold you. He doesn’t reply, you can see his reflection in the window. He’s watching you through the reflection, you smile softly when you make eye contact, his grip tightens slightly. “Johnny… You can call me Johnny” he mumbles into your hair, you hum in response. You turn around in his arms, bringing your hands up to his jaw, his stubble rough against the palm of your hand. “What’s wrong Johnny?” You ask quietly, unsure what’s gotten him so quiet suddenly. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed, he's tired, exhausted, drained. His hands rest on your hips, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into the fabric of your pants, he's fidgeting. You gently trail the hand he isn’t leaning into down his arm to rest over one of his own, you step to the side slowly, guiding him upstairs. He follows behind you, letting you lead him through the house, upstairs is darker than the rest of the house, the curtains still drawn in your room, a small amount of sun filtering through the small gap. You pull him towards your bed, the covers still a mess from you getting up earlier in the day.

You’re laying on your bed, Soap wrapped around your abdomen, head nestled into your neck. Your hand combs through his mohawk, nails gently running across his scalp. His arms are securely wrapped around you, his grip not faltering. “Johnny?” You whisper, nervous to break the comfortable silence. “Mmh?” He mumbles into your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “Would you like to stay…” you pause, sighing as you push down the nerves. “Would you like to stay with me, like over the holidays, till you gotta go to your cousins?” Your heart races, waiting for his reply. Did you just fuck everything up? Did you read into this friendship wrong? Did his lingering touches mean nothing? “Gladly, only if you're sure ya can put up with me that is.” He chuckles softly, his arms pulling you closer.

“If this is what we do everyday then I’m sure I can” you giggle as you feel him nuzzle your neck, your hands finding purchase on his shoulder, attempting to push him away gently, his stubble tickling your neck. You open your eyes when you feel him pull away, he’s looking at you, a small smile on his face. Not a smirk, not a teasing smile or a shit eating grin. A happy, content smile. One of his hands cups your jaw, his eyes glancing between your eyes and your lips, his silent question dancing in his eyes.

There’s mere inches between you, he closes the gap, his lips locking onto yours. Gentle, caring, loving kiss. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him as close as possible, not wanting this euphoria to end. He leaves you breathless when he pulls away to allow you to breathe. “Are you okay with this Y/N?” You answer his question by pulling him back into the kiss, heavy and heated, still passionate and loving.

Your tongues dance, the desire to taste the other overwhelming. His hand holds your waist, fingers dancing under your hoodie. He pushes you into the bed, supporting himself on his left forearm. You moan into his mouth when he slides his hand up your side. “Fuck, you taste like heaven Lass” he mumbles into the kiss, his mind a jumbled mess. Yours not much different, your hands run down his chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt. “Johnny- fuck. I didn’t think you liked me like this” you chuckle as he kisses your jaw, his hand that's under your hoodie slides up your back.

Bringing you closer to his chest, he kisses your neck. “I thought you weren’t interested in me, but I guess we were both wrong.” he chuckles as he feels your hands trace his taut muscles. You smile as he lifts his head, he looks at you with soft, loving eyes, with a genuine smile as he commits everything he sees in front of him to memory.

“Will you be mine, Lass?” Your eyes widen, so does your smile. “Yes, of course” Soap seals it with a kiss, his hands bringing you as close as possible, your own arms wrapping around his shoulder, hands running through his mohawk.

A/N: Ugh i want this man so bad ughhhh

#soap x y/n #soap x you #soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x reader #soap call of duty #fanfic #x y/n #slow burn #soap fluff #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod fanfic

210 notes · View notes

messinwitheddie · 11 months ago

Text

Pepito "Nny, you unwashed ASS CRACK! You have the NERVE to bitch because Tenna responded to your 1200th text with a fucking emoji instead of a Shakespearean sonnet?!

Let me explain something to you! You are NOT a catch! Why do you think you're a catch?! Because you're "funny?" Because you can FAKE being nice and charming long enough to trick a woman into buying you dinner and a movie ticket?! Because you're well read?? The only reason you have free time to read so much is because you have no job and no friends besides Squee!

You're not that tall! You have crooked teeth, a crooked nose, an off putting smile, a sunken-in chest and narrow shoulders-- literally the only thing you have going for you is you're skinny! And once time and gravity catch up with your shitty diet of corner store snacks we'll see how skinny you stay!"

Nny "Fu--"

Pepito "Say one fucking word and I'll make you projectile puke a swarm of roaches! Where was I?! OH! You're rapidly approaching 30! You haven't displayed a shred of talent since high school! AGAIN, you're unemployed, unemployable, penniless, homeless-- you literally SQUAT here, you have NO family, NO future! The only useful function you ever served in this reality was being a negative energy waste lock and you've been replaced already! You, Johnny C, have NOTHING to offor this girl or ANYONE!!

The only two types of women who EVER talk to you are exhausted, underappreciated retail workers with a pity kink and confident club chicks who want to piss off their strict daddies and/or they have a fucking pity kink!

You should be on your knees, kissing the most ample spot on her ass for acknowledging you much less willingly touch you long enough to give you a haircut that effectively covers the bald spot forming-"

Nny "What--??"

Pepito "-instead of chasing you out of her hair salon with a hose like the mangy street dog you are!! Okay?!! We clear on this??! Did I help reality set in?! Tenna is TOO good for you! Nearly everyone on earth is TOO GOOD for you! Don't chase her off like you did Devi because you will NEVER find another Devi! Tenna is your last chance to NOT die alone in a dark corner under this dilapidated bungalo!"

Nny "..."

Pepito "-So shut the fuck up and text back a winky face or some shit!!

[The dialogue I never finished for this post

Which was inspired by the above Nny tweet lol.

#jthm #squee #pepito #yes #Pep makes him puke roaches #just didn't have time to draw it #post #i feel sick #au

28 notes · View notes

savvythepirate · 2 years ago

Note

You requested something to read, so I thought I’d share this little abomination that I wrote. I’ll be posting it on my page as well.

“I’ll stab you with my trouser sword and plunder your booty, yo-ho!” You sang loudly as you swabbed the deck of the Black Pearl.

“Yo-ho!” The crew hollered in response, as it was part of the song.

You were a new addition to the crew, and fine one at that! From your jokes to your colorful sea shanties, you brought such a lively and fun energy to the ship. Everyone there loved you.

All except one person, that is…

It’s not necessarily that he disliked you, but Barbossa didn’t seem to find you as entertaining as everyone else did. It was a shame, really.

“Quit yer caterwaulin’ ya blunderin’ mongrels!” He hollered as he exited the captain’s quarters.

Everybody looked around at each other uncomfortably and got back to work, disappointment in their eyes.

“He can be a bit of a mood-killer, can’t he?” Jack said as he joined you to swab the deck.

“That’s for sure,” you replied, focusing on your work. Then you stopped for a moment, smiling an amused half-smile, “I must admit, though, the man certainly has a gift for colorful insults!”

“That he does,” Jack mused, “One of my favorites is probably ‘salty sea dogs.’ It has a nice ring to it.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “I personally found ‘slack-jawed buffoons’ to be a good one. It really packs a punch, you know? Like, it’s unnecessarily harsh.”

“That, and ‘wreckless pack of ingrates.’” Jack said, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“We should start writing these down!” You laughed.

A while later, you and Jack had acquired a quill and some paper, and you began your list.

“He said ‘poxy mongrels’ once,” you said as you jotted it down.

“I remember him saying ‘nattering swine’ the other day,” Jack said. You added it to the list.

“Let’s add some of our own!” You said, looking excitedly at Jack.

“Ooh, we should, shouldn’t we,” he said, taking on your expression. Then he thought for a moment, “How about ‘lily-livered milksops?’”

“That’s a good one!” You wrote it down, “I’ve got one!” You said, “‘Toe-eyed cabbages!”

Jack looked at you with an expression of surprise and discomfort, “That one’s a bit out there.”

“I suppose so,” you said, pondering the strange words that came out of your mouth. Then your eyes lit up, “I’ve got a better one! Bald-headed yogurt slingers!”

“Now you’re just scaring me,” Jack said.

“Okay, fine,” you said, chuckling, “Let’s get back to his insults!”

“For the sake of my own sanity, we should,” Jack said. You continued writing.

“‘Scurvy bilge rats’ is a classic, so we can’t forget that one!” You said, smiling as you wrote.

“I think he also said ‘salty bilge rats’ once,” Jack said.

“Honestly, a lot of these sound like they could be interchangeable,” you mused.

Jack’s face took on a thoughtful expression. Then he brightened, “I have an idea!” He took the paper from you and started to write.

It took a while for him to finish, which made you worried that Barbossa would catch you and scold you for not working. Finally, Jack was done. He handed you the paper, “I put the first parts on the left, and the last parts on the right. That way we can mix and match!”

“That’s brilliant!” You grinned, “I like it!”

You scanned the two lists, which were somewhat long. Then inspiration struck you, and you added your idea to the list.

You handed it to Jack, the finished product looking something like this:

Front:

A: Wreckless

B: Blooming

C: Lazy

D: Mangy

E: Cackhanded

F: Knee-knocking

G: Bloated

H: Salty

I: Yellow-bellied

J: P****-licking

K: Feckless

L: Lilly-livered

M: Filthy

N: Blundering

O: Bilge-drinking

P: Bloody

Q: Slimy

R: Bleeding

S: Poxy

T: Slack jawed

U: Nattering

V: Wretched

W: Squiffy

X: Gutless

Y: Scurvy

Z: Blasted

Back:

A: Ingrates

B: Cockroaches

C: Bilge rats

D: Scoundrels

E: Deck apes

F: Halfwits

G: Sea cows

H: Sea dogs

I: Milksops

J: Codpieces

K: Mongrels

L: Sobs

M: Whelps

N: Swabbies

O: Buffoons

P: Codpieces

Q: Hornswagglers

R: Swine

S: P****-lickers

T: Maggots

U: Curs

V: Ninnies

W: Knaves

X: Blowfish

Y: Picaroons

Z: Scallywags

“I don’t understand,” Jack said, with his brow furrowed in confusion.

“You take the first letter of your first name from list one, and the first letter of your last name from the second list. For example, I would be (insert your name here).”

“I see,” Jack said, reading the list, “I would be…p****-licking p****-lickers…” he looked baffled, and maybe a little disappointed.

You laughed, “That’s actually kind of hilarious!”

“What are you two feckless mongrels up to?” Barbossa barked. Noticing the paper in your hands, he grabbed it.

You and Jack panicked as he read your creation. Then he looked up at the two of you, “Get back to work,” he ordered. The two of you scrambled off, eager to get away from the grumpy captain.

“Do you think we’ll be punished?” You asked Jack.

“I hope not,” Jack said, glancing over his shoulder at Barbossa. Frightened by the likelihood of that happening, you two picked up your mops and continued where you had left off a while back.

Barbossa continued reading their list. When he finished, he chuckled and put it in his pocket and headed back to his quarters.

Thank you so much for this! It gave me the smile I needed! ❤️

@savvythepirate

61 notes · View notes

re-ikrmso · 1 year ago

Text

I CANT STOP AND LOOK THE OTHER WAY...

ahhh its themm..ohh..its them...so long since i drew it felt like..i just have to give them more time.. (ignoring blue NOO i will get to them later..)

but yeah! them...and anger...and thinking what is "right" and then subverting it...so hard to put into words... but they are definitely vindictive and spiteful at times (before regretting the 'high' they get from hurting others, because it is so unfair but nothing is fair)

=i was also orignally going to draw c!Dark in the background...teehee... ohhh, Dark and mangie..

=wrote blurb thing in comment, mostly on spot--unrefined. it's a little more insight onto Mangie's character! hope it's decipherable enough!

song i listened to while drawing YAY: OHH SOME OF the lyrics like BARELY apply to them X,[ WAHHH banger songs though ehehe

you right x luxurious (sped up + reverb) [huh, i usually associate this song with Ikari. oh well!]

Yu Yu Hakusho Soundtrack (Romantic)

Killshot

かめりあ feat. かめりあ - Midnight Amaretto

#c!mangie #rt intervals #art #my art #practicing shading and posing #mostly for fun #can tell where i was like “ehh whatever lol” i should do another shading thing in black-white tho beena while #also i associate the mosst like inappropriate songs with my characters X'] probably cause i associate the emotion i feel or like a small #part of the song to th #em lol

8 notes · View notes

galaxyedging · 2 years ago

Text

Part of the Exposed Masterlist

Claude the Cat x OFCC (the extra C is for cat because apparently I've lost my mind. I may as well go all in at this point.)

WC:3.2k

Summary: Claude meets a cat that he is desperate to paint and do other things with.

Warnings: A horny cat. Angst. Talk of death.

Alley Cats

The sun warming his tail told Claude it was time to make a move before the room was rented out. If he made his way to the kitchen door, he could probably charm some thinly sliced salmon from the overbearing sous chef. She always finds a little something for him. She even digs out a little extra if he lets her hold him. He feels like a common whore when her boney fingers dig into him and her strong citrus perfume brings a sting to his sensitive eyes. Still, the food was good and it wouldn't be the first time he was called a whore. They didn't understand that he was on borrowed time.

The new guy he lived with had taken him for that goddamn operation. Claude was lucky to come out with everything intact. The vet had the gleam of a butcher in his eyes. His fingers looked cumbersome and not capable of the fine motor skills that needed to attend to Claude's most delicate parts. He had put up a fight. He dodged and weaved like a prize fighter. He'd done his best to keep them at bay. His new roommate, and several of the employees, bore the scratch marks to prove it. Ultimately, he had been bested by a rather rotund man with a syringe. He spent the next few days ruing the day he graced the fire escape outside that insipid artist's apartment. Even if he had fed him tuna and scratched that spot on his head that he likes. And he let him sleep on his bed when the storm outside got too loud. Still, he took him for that operation, he risked his virility, it was still at risk. Claude was afraid if he didn't use it he would lose it.

It may have caused a couple of problems for him. A couple of fights between his partners, who thought that just because they barbed, once, they were a thing. That he owed them something. If anything, they owned him. Even if he could only find a flea bitten tabby to keep him company, he always made them feel good. If he was going to do something he was going to do it right. They should be thankful.

To be fair, they usually were. They fell at his feet. He didn't blame them, given the competition. All mangy alley cats and overfed, lazy family pets. His winning personality aside Claude was obviously the far superior choice.

As he sat on the sun warmed concrete, finishing off some salmon meant for today's main, (He earned it by doing his best 'poor little kitty' routine. Big, brown eyes. A little mournful whine. His small, soft paws laid gently on her outstretched hand. It was degrading, but a man's got to eat and occasionally he has to eat finer fish than his roommate offers him), Claude thought that this new life wasn't so bad. Throwing himself into all these indulgences helped him to forget what he had lost, his home, his….well, he wasn't going to be in that position again. He'd barb, he'd take what he could from the humans and that was it. No bonding. No feelings. It wasn't a bad way to live. He could quite happily spend the rest of his days like this, then she sauntered into his life.

Claude watched her lithe form drop down into the alley. Gracefully landing on all fours before heading to the open kitchen door. A pitiful meow got the sous chef's attention.

"Oh, Sweetie, you're back. Are you hungry?" She rubbed her head against the chef's calves as they spoke. "Stay there. I'll get you something special."

The woman returned with even more food than she had given Claude, chicken as well as the salmon. He watched as the woman fed it to the newcomer, who purred happily in her boney hands. He didn't know this cat but she was good.

"That was a pretty convincing little act." Claude called over as the cat made her way back down the alley.

Her head snapped towards him, she raised an eyebrow in question. "Act?"

"The nuzzling, the purring. Acting like you can stand that woman." Claude gobbled up the last of his breakfast before waiting for her reply. Making a good show of licking his paws while he did so. He might have found her display a bit over the top but there was no denying how attractive she was.

"She's kind. She feeds me when my owner can't. Why wouldn't I like her?" Claude was taken aback by her answer.

"Don't you find her a little overbearing? Needy?"

"How long have you been coming here?"

"About a month. Why?"

"Did you notice the tan line on her ring finger? Or remember the ring that used to be there?"

Claude hadn't given any notice to either.

"She's clearly going through something. She needs a hug."

"How noble of you." Claude scoffed.

"Wow. Are you always this big of an asshole?"

"I don't know. Why do you spend some more time with me and find out?" Claude's tone was laced with suggestion.

"Hitting on me before you even find out my name. Classy."

"I would have learnt it eventually. I'd need to know what to call out in the throws of passion."

"Good luck with that." She leaped up onto a crate next to the wall preparing to leave.

Claude called after her. "So you're not going to tell me your name?"

"No." She stated firmly.

"No matter. A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet. Mine is Claude by the way.

The female smiled to herself as she strolled along the top of the wall. Against her better judgement, she decided to visit this place more often.

A couple of days later, Claude smiled triumphantly as the object of his desire dropped down into the alley again.

"Good morning, Molly." He called out casually. He saw her bristle at his words."I asked around. I couldn't go another day without putting a name to my latest piece."

"Piece?!" Molly spun to face him, claws out.

"My art piece." Claude smiled wryly as her reaction as he walked over to get his pizza box canvas. "What do you think?"

Molly had to admit it was good, he was obviously talented. "I think it's creepy that we met once and you painted me."

Claude was enjoying this. It had been a long time since he'd had to work this hard for a woman. Usually after he unveils his art work it isn't long until he gets his cock wet. Molly was going to be a challenge. One he would gladly rise to.

"How can you blame me? Look at the inspiration I had. Any artist worth his salt would have to immortalise a woman as beautiful as you."

"Immortalise? Whatever you painted with smells like it's about to turn. I give that two days, tops."

"But the mental image will stay with me forever. Unless you have a better one to replace it with?"

Molly found herself being rather flattered by Claude's tenacity. He was good looking, and that voice! Maybe she would concede to his attention eventually but she was going to make him work for it. She wasn't some easy street cat.

"Is that all you are interested in? My beauty?"

"It's not all I am interested in." Claude made a point of raking his eyes over her body.

Molly cursed the way her body betrayed her morals at his molten gaze. Ignoring him, she made her way to the door to be fed. Once she was done she made her way back the way she came. Shooting a quick "Bye, Claude." his way.

"Bye, My Darling. I'll see you again soon. I hope." His tone was almost sweet.

The next time they met it was raining, the overhang by the kitchen door afforded little shelter. Claude was already there licking the remnants of his meal from his paws. He locked his eyes on Molly's as she came into view. Purposely slowing the progression of his cleaning. Making a bigger show than necessary with his tongue. "There you are. The weather is miserable but there is enough shelter here, if you want to squeeze in with me?"

He wasn't wrong, there was just enough room in the dry patch of floor for the two of them, if they huddled together. Molly rethought how hungry she was.

"Come. I don't bite. Unless I'm asked." Claude shuffled back a little to give her space to land. She did so gracefully as always. "There. Isn't that better?"

Molly had to admit that the shelter and the warmth of Claude pressed next to her was a lot better.

The sous chef appeared with her supper a few minutes later. Molly ate happily as Claude sat pressed into her in silence. She was grateful that he didn't keep hitting on her while she ate. Until he hit her with "So when are we going to fuck?".

The last of her chicken almost caught in her throat.

"Sorry to be so blunt but you are attractive, I'm attractive. You clearly have strong feelings towards me. Even if they are just of annoyance. Hate sex is fantastic. So it seems a shame not to fuck."

Heaven help her, Molly found his boldness attractive. "I do find you attractive but I'm not interested in being another notch on your scratching post. I'm not a young cat, my priorities are different. If you want to fuck me, you'll have to get to know me." With that hanging in the air she left a stunned Claude to shelter from the rain as she bounced home.

Claude told himself he wasn't going back to the alley. So Molly was attractive. So she was self assured. So she wasn't going to be an easy lay. It didn't mean he had to have her. Except it totally did mean he had to have her. He was obsessed. He painted her every day. She consumed his thoughts. He liked that she was keen to put him in his place. Claude was a big, bold personality. He usually got what he wanted, when he wanted. Being denied something was driving him crazy.

As soon as Molly dropped down into the alley, Claude was on his feet. Despite telling himself he wasn't coming back here, he'd been there every day. When he finally laid eyes on her he was practically giddy. Taking a breath, he forced himself to regain his composure."There you are! How do you expect me to get to know you if you're not here?"

"I didn't expect you to get to know me. I figured when it became clear I wasn't an easy lay, you'd move on."

"I'm wounded that you think so little of me!"

"I know your type. Thinking women should be honoured to carry your progeny."

"That's where you are wrong. I just know what a good time I can provide a woman. It would be wrong of me not to provide that service to as many women as possible."

"So your interest in me is purely philanthropic? How noble! If pleasing me is all you care about then you can get to know me."

After a quick bite to eat, Molly gave Claude her best come hither look over her shoulder and hither Claude came. He followed her out of the alley like so many foolish humans he'd seen being led out of clubs in the dead of night. Destined for heartbreak and regret. Not that that would happen to Claude. No one can break your heart if you don't give it to them. Claude followed her as her backside swung temptingly to and fro. He was so entranced by her curves, he didn't realise she had led him to a park until he heard an overexcited voice. "Look at the kitties!"

The owner was a little chubby faced thing, all freckles and sticky hands. Molly didn't seem to mind when it petted her. It giggled in delight as she purred before skipping off to play in the sand.

"So I know you like salmon and don't mind the gross mini humans petting you. Is that enough?" Claude sighed.

"Yes. Please take me in a manly fashion." Claude couldn't help but smile at the sarcasm dripping from her tone.

A matching smile spread over Molly's face. "Come on."

She continued through the park, stopping to let various people pet her, while Claude hung back out of the way. His lack of hair generally made him a less attractive petting prospect. The scowl on his face helped to ensure that no sticky hands touched him.

"Here we are." Molly smiled as they cut through some brushes. Claude was so caught up in how pretty she looked smiling in the sunshine that he didn't even notice his surroundings until a large drop of water landed square on his lower back. The freezing liquid shot a shiver up his spine. Instinctively he jumped and whirled on the source of his discomfort. Claws and fangs bared.

Molly's laughter was light and airy as she skipped towards the fountain. Jets of water rhythmically shot from the floor arching into the air, projecting rainbows in their spray. Molly moved from jet to jet pouncing on the spray, causing it to rain down on her. The droplets ran down her spotted fur causing it to shimmer even more so than usual.

Now that he was over the initial shock, Claude couldn't help but see the beauty in the scene before him. The sun dipping low behind the trees caused an orange dappling across the ground. The gorgeous woman frolicking in the dewy rainbow cascade. It was all so rich and vibrant. He knew had found his next work of art. As he pondered what medium he would use he was hit by an errant jet of water. An indignant yowl erupted from him. He hissed until he saw Molly suppressing her laughter. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to full on hit you with it. Are you okay?"

"I've been better." He shook the drops from his whiskers. "So this is something you enjoy?"

"I'm a Bengal. Water is kind of our thing. You?"

"I'd be happier if it was warmer."

"That's the second best part. Come on." Molly darted out of the water to race ahead.

Thankfully, all those tins of tuna hadn't slowed Claude down. He caught up to her at the bottom of an art installation. It was a conceptual art piece. Large uncut stones were used to recreate the shape of Atlas. This idea was that the responsibility of taking care of the earth was on all of our shoulders. Claude could do better. He also knew that Atlas carried the sky not the earth.

"Do you like this piece?" Claude tried to keep his distaste out of his tone.

"It has its perks." Molly jumped from stone to stone before disappearing at the top.

Claude quickly followed to find her stretched out of the 'earth' stone. The stone still clung to the heat of the day under his paws. It felt good. As if she could read his mind Molly commented "Wait until you stretch out on it."

Claude didn't wait any longer to stretch out. He sprawled himself next to her, so close that their side touched. He was sure she would push him away until she didn't. Until she snuggled closer. Emboldened by it, he rested his head on top of hers. In turn she rubbed her head against his until their positions were reversed and her head was on top.

"So are we going to…?" Claude began.

"Not tonight." Her voice was firm but gentle. It gave Claude some hope.

Then Molly began to groom him. Around his neck as first then she ran her tongue over that spot behind his ear. The one that usually got his leg twitching and his motor running. This time it had a different effect on him. Warm tears gather in his eyes. It had been so long since anyone had treated him with this kind of care. It had been so long since he let anyone treat him with this kind of care. He tried to muffle the sobbed that welled up in him but she caught it.

"Shh. You're okay, Claude. Just let it out." she continued to soothe him with her tongue as he finally let out everything he had been holding in.

His owner had died. He had watched as she faded away. It hadn't taken long. In less than a week, she started with a cough then she was gone. He could still hear it every night. She told her family she was fine. Claude knew she wasn't but he was helpless to do anything. On the third day, he stayed out all day and night. That worried his owner enough to call her nephew. When her nephew came, he suggested a doctor. She'd shook her head, told him she didn't want to trouble anyone, it was just a bad cold. Two days later Claude woke up on her bed but she never woke up again.

"Damn, Lucien. I haven't teared up this much since episode three of The Last of Us." Jerry looked up from his script.

"Is it too much? Our viewers usually like the honesty in the show. The writing team liked it." Lucien bent the end of his own script in his hand nervously.

Jerry stood to clap a reassuring hand on Lucien's shoulder. "It's great, man. Really. I usually worry about last minute changes to scripts but this is so good. It's bold. It's real. Let's get Bravo back in for the last scene.

"I'm sorry." Claude sobbed into his paws as he covered his face.

"Don't be." Molly held him closer. "I'm flattered that you feel safe enough to let your guard down. I knew there was some reason you acted like an uptight asshole."

Claude laughed at that "No, that's pretty much my default personality."

"Maybe." Molly chuckled. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now. Thank you." Claude lay his paw over hers at his side.

"You're welcome. Let's get some rest. If you change your mind, I'll be here when you wake up."

"She'll be there when he wakes up. Like his owner wasn't. Fuck, that hurt." Dieter grabbed a soda from the mini fridge, nodding to offer Lucien one as he did, who declined with a shake of his head. "Oh, man. Where did you come up with the idea for this one?"

"It just came to me." The way Dieter's eyes narrowed on him Lucien got the distinct impression it wasn't the best idea to lie to a double Oscar winner that studies the human condition for a living.

"Right. I gotta head out. Call me soon, we'll hang out. I want to hear more about this new art project." Dieter was out the door before Lucien could think too much about that invitation.

Getting in his car Lucien pulled out his cell phone. Three messages from you sat there unanswered.

@kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @shadowtrick @simpingcowboy @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yourcoolauntie @pedrostories

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #claude the cat #lucien flores #dieter bravo

40 notes · View notes

eat-a-dicker · 1 month ago

Text

on that note it's funny how people are saying stella and stryker should get together because a) we don't know how they feel about each other, b) the fact that andrealphus (who openly manipulates stella under the guise of brotherly love) refers to stryker as a mangy mutt to her face and she doesn't give a shit, c) stryker would get a taste of his own medicine very fast and would probably want out

#i talk #helluva boss #stella goetia #stryker #andrealphus

3 notes · View notes

binosaura · 1 year ago

Text

C: "No io cavalli non li riesco a mangiare perché ho fatto equitazione"

J: "Guarda che anche gli altri animali hanno la stessa dignità, o li mangi tutti o non ne mangi nessuno"

#il vostro specismo di merda è disgustoso 💖#binosaura

11 notes · View notes

automatismascrive · 4 months ago

Text

Unrestrained summer fun: Boku no Natsuyasumi 2: Umi no Bouken-hen e Summer Vacation 1999

L’estate è la mia stagione preferita! Mi rendo conto che l’incessante aumento delle temperature potrebbe contribuire in un immediato futuro ad un rimescolamento della classifica, ma per ora i gelati, le cicale e la possibilità di adagiarmi settimanalmente sul fondo di un fiume le permettono di guadagnarsi il primo posto senza troppa fatica; mi sembrava dunque interessante segnalare in questo periodo un paio di cosine interessanti per chi ha un debole per l’atmosfera calda, inebriante e statica di certe giornate estive cittadine ma non solo. Anzi, in realtà la mia idea originaria sarebbe stata di confinare il tema del consiglio di oggi all’affascinante microgenere dei summer timeloops, del quale l’iconico Kagerou Daze è un esempio perfetto, ma alla fine mi sono presentate nel corso di questi mesi due esperienze così radicate nella stagione in cui si ambientano le loro rispettive narrative – e soprattutto così belle! – che non ho potuto fare a meno di raccoglierle in questo post.

Ma di quali esperienze sto parlando esattamente [domanda retorica che mi permette di spezzare un paragrafo vicino ad acquisire lo status di wall of text]? Beh, intanto di un videogioco per Playstation 2 che può vantare un’importante fanbase giapponese e una piccola fetta di appassionati occidentali (nonché giuoco apparso regolarmente sul mio blog principale per i Veri Fan che mi seguono anche lì), ma anche di un film ambientato in un futuro alternativo degli anni ottanta in cui tutti i protagonisti sono interpretati da ragazze e scrivere molto velocemente su un computer a schermo verde è considerato C Y B E R P U N K. Che cosa state aspettando? Iniziamo!

Boku no Natsuyasumi 2: Umi no Bouken-hen

Nel 1975 Boku ha nove anni e sua madre decide di spedirlo dai suoi zii per tutto il mese di agosto in previsione del suo parto imminente per non avere pargoli tra i piedi; la destinazione è la campagna della prefettura di Yamanashi, ricca di possibilità per un bambino appassionato di battaglie tra insetti, esplorazione e soprattutto la proficua attività dell’immischiarsi negli affari degli adulti che è com'è giusto e sacrosanto tanto cara a tutti i più piccoli

Solo che la destinazione non è davvero la prefettura di Yamanashi, bensì un villaggio di mare sulla costa ovest del Giappone, perché questo non è il primo Boku no Natsuyasumi, ma uno dei quattro sequel spirituali che l’hanno succeduto dopo il suo significativo successo in Giappone (e oltreoceano, almeno per i pochi appassionati in grado di masticare un po’ di giapponese): per la precisione il secondo, Umi no Bouken-hen, salito alla ribalta nel mondo dell’emulazione occidentale grazie alla minuziosa traduzione di Hilltop Works, resa pubblica alla fine dell’anno scorso, che ha permesso anche a chi parla soltanto l’inglese di provare per la prima volta un titolo di questa saga discretamente popolare nella sua terra natale. Saga abbastanza conservatrice, considerando che tra tutti i titoli le variazioni sono minime e consistono nella scelta dell’area del Giappone in cui Boku passerà l’agosto del ‘75, alcuni cambiamenti nei personaggi ricorrenti e nelle migliorie tecniche dovute alla console di uscita di ciascun titolo. Insomma, una saga peculiare già a partire dalla sua direzione artistica, che rimane tale anche quando si considera il tipo di gameplay che propone e che ha contribuito a renderla abbastanza unica nel suo genere.

La copertina del videogioco. Trovo lo stile cartoon 2d del materiale promozionale adorabile.

Infatti una volta approdati nella cittadina marittima in compagnia di Yasuko, una ragazza di quattordici anni che torna a casa per le vacanze, per Boku si spalancheranno le porte di un intero mese di completa libertà: i suoi zii si assicureranno che mangi due volte al giorno e che non affoghi scandagliando i fondali marittimi, ma tutto il resto del suo tempo potrà essere speso come meglio gli aggrada. Durante l’intera giornata di Boku infatti il giocatore potrà scegliere in completa libertà quale zona della mappa esplorare, con quali personaggi interagire e in che attività impiegare il proprio tempo – attività di cui non c’è certo penuria, considerando che avrete a disposizione una canna da pesca, dell’acqua zuccherata per attrarre giganteschi scarafaggi da utilizzare nei combattimenti contro quelli dei vostri cuginetti, e l’intero fondale marittimo da esplorare alla ricerca di tesori e passaggi segreti! Senza considerare l’ingente quantità di persone che faranno avanti e indietro dalla casa dei vostri zii, che funge anche da B&B per i turisti; dal pacato turista americano Simon fino allo schivo Taniguchi, prono ad alzare il gomito anche di prima mattina. Ma sarà possibile conoscere bene anche le sorelle Yasuko e Hikari, un po’ sole e con una famiglia particolare alle spalle… Insomma, la vera domanda non è che cosa mai potrete fare per i trentun giorni di agosto in cui sarete lontani dai vostri genitori, ma se riuscirete a sfruttare al meglio tutto ciò che la città ha da offrire prima di essere costretti a tornare a casa.

Piano piano, mentre vi acclimatate alla routine della giornata tipo della vacanza estiva di Boku, scoprirete almeno un paio di cose che vi sorprenderanno assai in positivo. La prima è che Boku no Natsuyasumi non è solo una bella esperienza, ma è anche un bel gioco. Sì ok, storia e gameplay non sono elementi narrativi distinti, un gioco è un’esperienza a tutto tondo in cui ciascun singolo elemento è inestricabilmente coinvolto nella formazione del suo senso ultimo, la dissonanza ludonarrativa è vera e può farti del male ecc. ecc., ma è innegabile che chiunque sia abituato a fare del retrogaming spesso e volentieri per accedere ad una storia affascinante si debba abituare ad un’esperienza legnosa, ad un’interfaccia confusa e a delle convenzioni di gioco obsolete che possono rendere le sessioni di gioco complessive decisamente meno appassionanti di quello che potrebbero essere. Non è però il caso di Boku no Natsuyasumi, che nonostante faccia la scelta poco felice di far muovere il personaggio con una strana combinazione di tasto x per avanzare e le quattro frecce per direzionare (… sì, è fastidioso come state pensando), costruisce ciascuna attività di ciascuna giornata con la massima attenzione a renderla meno intrusiva e faticosa possibile per il giocatore. Non c’è il rischio che gli eventi diventino troppo dispersivi grazie ad un efficace guida giornaliera sugli eventi più salienti che prende forma grazie alle predizioni di Hikari, la luce ci farà sempre capire a che punto della giornata siamo e quanto tempo ci rimane, la pesca è un semplicissimo minigioco d’attesa in cui si preme un solo tasto e la maggior parte delle attività, anche in virtù della loro semplicità, sono godibili senza risultare del tutto casuali; un ottimo esempio è la lotta degli scarafaggi, determinata dalle caratteristiche degli stessi, da quanto abbiamo dosato la loro aggressività e dalla fortuna, elementi che premiano un certo coinvolgimento emotivo senza suscitare troppa frustrazione.

Davanti al B&B degli zii di Boku, nonché un ottimo punto per tuffarsi a scandagliare il fondale in cerca di tappi di bottiglia.

Il gameplay di Boku no Natsuyasumi però ha meritato una menzione speciale solo per la sua abilità di mettersi al servizio dell’esperienza chiave del titolo, che non fa certo perno sulla complessità dei suoi sistemi. Il gioco propone un’esperienza marcatamente nostalgica, se non altro per via della minuzia con cui ricostruisce ciascuna interazione che un bambino di otto anni può avere con l’ambiente, gli adulti e i coetanei attorno a lui; esperienza ulteriormente calata in uno specifico contesto culturale di cui non mi sento di giudicare l’”accuratezza storica”, ma che di sicuro fa un ottimo lavoro nel vendere al giocatore perlomeno un’ottima illusione di come poteva essere il mese di agosto del 1975 in una cittadina marittima del Giappone. La malinconia di cui è impregnata ogni giornata di cui si ha esperienza nel gioco è ben sostenuta nella sua profondità e autenticità anche dalla complessità dei dialoghi che si hanno con gli adulti nel gioco; sebbene il paragone più ovvio che possa venire in mente dalla mia descrizione finora per questa saga possa essere Animal Crossing, il gioco non potrebbe essere più distante da quello specifico e melenso filone del cozy gaming che costruisce una fantasia zuccherosa dietro la quale si cela poca carne al fuoco nel senso narrativo del termine (conflitto, evoluzione e così via), ma si tratta chiaramente di un gioco da adulti per adulti. Nel corso dei giorni Boku potrà parlare con un anziano che si sente spaesato e inutile dopo la morte della moglie e del figlio, con una madre che fugge dai suoi figli perché si sente soffocare dal villaggio in cui è cresciuta e con un uomo che passa il tempo sulle montagne piuttosto che stare con il figlio appena quattordicenne – e ciascuno di questi incontri non ci permetterà di aprire il menù delle quest per risolvere la vita dell'NPC di turno che ci ha appena aperto il cuore, ma si risolverà in dialoghi fugaci che lasceranno il protagonista spesso confuso, e il giocatore più conscio della complessità delle dinamiche del villaggio in cui Boku è stato catapultato.

Quello che rimane al momento di salire sul traghetto del ritorno è proprio la sicurezza di aver parlato con persone con una vita più grande, misteriosa e complessa degli scorci che Boku ha visto e sentito, proprio come succedeva spesso a noi da bambini e come certamente capita anche agli adulti; e questa esperienza formativa per Boku ben si riflette nel corso delle giornate che passano, in cui il nostro protagonista imparerà a fare considerazioni un po' più complesse di prima sulle persone che lo circondano. Insomma, quello che davvero Boku no Natsuyasumi 2 è capace di regalare ad un giocatore adulto è proprio il ritorno a quella scoperta totalizzante e straordinaria che si provava sia di fronte alle scoperte provenienti dal mondo adulto che all’esplorazione della natura e dell’ambiente attorno a noi. Il mio consiglio è di provare sulla vostra pelle almeno un paio di queste giornate di agosto, per scoprire se è l’esperienza che state cercando.

Il diario che Boku compila a fine giornata con gli avvenimenti più rilevanti è credo nella mia top ten di cose belle che ho visto quest'anno.

Summer Vacation 1999

Sarebbe l’estate più noiosa di sempre nella scuola di Kazuhiko, Naoto e Norio, visto che sono loro gli unici tre ragazzi che hanno scelto di non tornare a casa per le vacanze e invece di passare le giornate a fare i compiti al computer, a cucinare e a giocare nei campi che circondano l’edificio deserto; se non fosse che la tensione nell’aria si taglia con un coltello e ogni scusa è buona per litigare, perché pochi mesi prima l’intera scuola è stata scossa dal suicidio di Yu, un ragazzo dello stesso anno di Kazuhiko e Naoto che si è lanciato dalla scogliera a due passi dall’edificio scolastico. Norio è convinto che la causa della sua infelicità fosse Kazuhiko, che dal canto suo passa le giornate in compagnia di Naoto, l’unico ragazzo che sembra in grado di rasserenarlo e di fargli allontanare dalla mente quel tragico evento… Almeno finché alla fermata del treno non scende Kaoru, copia perfetta di Yu che si presenta come un nuovo studente che condividerà le settimane successive con i tre; e nel tentativo di comprendere che cosa si cela dietro questo ritorno fantasma, ciascuno dei tre ragazzi aprirà la porta a tutte le pulsioni inconsce che fino a quel momento erano rimaste saldamente chiuse dietro un lucchetto a diverse mandate. E sì, sto naturalmente parlando del sesso gay.

Le uniformi hanno ovviamente lanciato una moda, e ci mancherebbe altro.

Ora che l’elefante nella stanza è stato finalmente svelato, mi pare giusto notare le due peculiarità del film che me l’hanno fatto immediatamente guardare la sera stessa in cui sono capitata sulla pagina del suo regista, Shusuke Kaneko. In primo luogo, se la trama di questo film vi sembra anche solo vagamente familiare, c’è una buona possibilità che abbiate letto Il cuore di Thomas, il manga di Moto Hagio da cui il film è liberamente ispirato; per quanto le differenze siano moltissime, dall’ambientazione fino al destino di molti personaggi, i temi trattati sono simili – fatto che non dovrebbe sorprendere nessuno che già conosce Hagio, di cui io ho letto solo l’etereo Il clan dei Poe, pioniera e maestra dei boys’ love. La seconda cosa che ha immediatamente fatto rizzare le mie antennine sensibili al bizzarro è che in questo film non c’è un solo ragazzo: ciascuno degli adolescenti è interpretato da giovani attrici, fatto che in nessun modo viene mai rimarcato all’interno della narrativa stessa ma che sicuramente dona un ulteriore fascino ad una storia che ruota attorno alle pulsioni proibite, dirompenti e totalizzanti dell’adolescenza, esasperate dalla solitudine estiva e dal quieto scorrere di giorni sempre uguali.

Purtroppo la scelta di interpreti così giovani si fa sentire: nessuna di loro era all’epoca particolarmente talentuosa nell’arte della recitazione e la mancanza di esperienza è molto evidente. Moltissime scene sono legnose, recitate da attrici che imbastiscono monologhi esitanti e spesso poco convinti, tanto che è molto facile immaginarsele con il copione in mano che cercano di mandarsi a mente il discorso che dovranno recitare di fronte ad una telecamera. Non sono una persona che soffre particolarmente attori mediocri o scadenti – altro vero marchio che sancisce la mia esclusione dalla cinefilia dura e pura – ma è innegabile che il film a tratti ne soffra parecchio; ad essere però particolarmente generosi, mi sento di notare che questa recitazione così artificiosa s’incastra piuttosto bene con il resto dell’ambiente che i personaggi navigano.

In questa scena viene citato Demian con i suoi pulcini nel guscio, riprova del fatto che Ikuhara si sarà visto questo film più e più volte.

Infatti la scuola semideserta è costruita con grande maestria per indurre un fortissimo senso di straniamento nello spettatore, che si trova ad osservare un ambiente a volte ai limiti del plausibile e dal look plasticoso e retrofuturistico (che la pagina Wikipedia italiana insiste a definire cyberpunk). Dai monitor verdi che i quattro studenti fissano ogni mattina, digitando una serie di parole inintelligibili ad altissima velocità, presumibilmente per completare improbabili esercizi, fino agli strani giochi presenti in camera di Norio, ciascun elemento dell’ambientazione e ciascuna scelta di regia aiutano a sottolineare il carattere artificioso e favolistico dello spazio in cui i ragazzi interagiscono, come a puntare il dito sul fatto che si tratta di una storia universale, trascendente qualsiasi specificità poiché incentrata su pulsioni ed emozioni che ciascun adolescente prova nel corso della vita. L’effetto complessivo non è dissimile da quello della strana scuola che frequenta Utena, anche se l’ispirazione estetica è piuttosto diversa: un ambiente dominato dalla routine, dal lento incedere di giorni sempre uguali, che lentamente soffoca chi vive al suo interno finché qualcosa non appare a cambiare le carte in tavola.

Ed è questa cura minuziosa per l’atmosfera in cui il film ci deve immergere che mi ha fatto apprezzare Summer Vacation 1999 così tanto. Al netto delle performance meno che brillanti e di una narrazione lineare fino alla banalità che segue lo scombussolamento che Kaoru provoca nella psiche di tutti gli altri, si tratta di un film che ben cattura quelle estati topiche dell’adolescenza in cui avvengono ogni sorta di rimescolamenti emotivi, in cui ciascuna emozione è volatile, esplosiva e pronta a prendere il sopravvento; Kaneko preme a fondo il pedale sulla repressione che l’ambiente instilla in ciascuno dei ragazzi, e lo fa senza mai mostrare nessun elemento apertamente coercitivo, fatto che di certo fa onore alla sua abilità registica e che permette di mantere un filo di non detto in un film che è tutto tranne che sottile nella messa in scena dei turbamenti adolescenziali di fronte al taboo. Che ok, è il desiderio omosessuale ma anche l’attaccamento morboso, l’isolamento, la paura dell’apertura all’altro e tutta una serie di altre emozioni complicate che facilmente portano a ferire gli altri, sia in senso puramente psicologico ma anche e soprattutto in quello fisico, pericolo ben presentato nel film dalla scogliera dalla quale Yu si è buttato, che ricompare ancora e ancora nel corso delle scene fino al finale carico di tensione che la vede indubbia protagonista, in cui ogni frame di ogni inquadratura suggerisce ai quattro ragazzi un modo semplice e rapido per porre fine ai loro tormenti.

Tutti assieme in una scena senza alcun significato allegorico legato allo strumento suonato. Boys will be boys no homo <3

Non si tratta di un film che piacerà a tutti, vuoi per l’artificiosità della messa in scena, vuoi per la recitazione poco ispirata, o vuoi perché dalla prima scena del film è tutto sommato assai semplice dipanare la matassa della narrativa e leggere in anticipo ciascun movimento di trama, come in qualunque boys’ love degli anni ottanta che si rispetti; ma se anche solo una delle cose che questo film fa bene vi ha catturato vi consiglio caldamente di prendervi una sera per guardarlo e scoprire se l’atmosfera estiva (nel senso più opprimente del termine) di questo film fa per voi.

Detto ciò, questo consiglietto giunge al termine! Anzi, consiglio a pieno titolo, vista la lunghezza – in qualche modo dovevo farmi perdonare l’assenza prolungata. Va detto che all'inizio avevo pensato di imbastire un post fatto come si deve su qualche perla del cinema coreano, ma la seduzione del clima estivo ha ben presto preso il sopravvento e mi sono ritrovata a scartabellare nei miei cassetti mentali per poter parlare di qualcosa adatto al periodo; sono convinta di aver trovato proprio le cose giuste di cui parlare e spero che queste mie essenziali considerazioni possano aver stuzzicato la curiosità di qualcuno. Adesso torno a riascoltarmi tutto Kagerou Project però.

#ita #boku no natsuyasumi 2 #summer vacation 1999 #shusuke kaneko #videogame #movie #recensione

2 notes · View notes