#i feel like they're walking a weird line in my mind

[bigkickguy]

daanmarcoh doodle - they're sleeping in shifts and keeping watch

[aggravatedanarchy]

I fucking love video games that are buggy as fuck

Fucking around in Vault 3, helping those guys escape- I come back with the key and two of them are outside the cage and one of the Fiends is inside it instead. I'm like "wow okay," move on, unlock the cage.

And then I just. Get to watch them all crouch and "sneak" out of the cage, pushing up against and stopping in front of Fiends the whole way.

I genuinely don't know if they're supposed to just be fine once you open the cage? So like maybe that last bit is par for the course. But coming back to two of them just wandering that room, chillin with the captors? Incredible. 10/10 I recommend this game to everyone.

[snapbackslide]

is it normal for your boss to ask why you're requesting a day off because i've never had to justify it at my previous jobs and it makes me feel gross that he even feels as though that is an appropriate question to ask

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hobie Brown, Emotional Preparation, and the Art of Great Dialogue

Nearly all of Hobie's dialogue is written with his goal - protecting and preparing Miles for Miguel's abuse - in mind, even if it may not be obvious at first watch.

Here's an unhinged breakdown where I over-analyze literally every one of Hobie’s lines and explain how every sentence was written to contribute directly to Miles’ radicalization.

Hollywood. Pay your writers. (:

___________________________________________________

Hobie has around 10 minutes screentime total, but for the sake of introductions and this analysis, let's start at the end of the battle, and the beginning of the quantum hole.

Starting with his first line in the scene:

"I don't follow orders. Neither does he."

All morals considered, Hobie doesn't seem like the type to speak for someone who can speak for themselves - he's a punk after all. But here, he speaks for Miles. This line serves to tell Miles 'I don't respect them, why should you?', but funnily enough, it can also be a point to Jess, as if to say 'Miles isn't interested.' - even if he is.

"Bit much, innit?"

While, Hobie and Mile's next interaction is their exchange in the elevator, the scene leads to Mile's introduction to the Society. Miles gawks at the lobby, obviously impressed. Gwen affirms this awe, telling him 'this is just the lobby.' However, Hobie feels the need to chime in. His next dialogue 'Bit much, innit?' is a subtle nudge to Miles that the society is not a place to be in awe off. It's a spectacle, one that's a bit overdone. Knowing Miles now sees Hobie as cool, Hobie makes it known - he sees the Society as uncool.

"Gwendy, How much have you told him? About his place in all this? Maybe not enough."

'So what happened about that small elite strike-team?' - 'Most of these are part time.' This is by far one of Hobie's more interesting lines, and I wrote about it here. But in short, this is Hobie's soft but direct confrontation of Gwen. After Gwen lies to Miles in front of him, Hobie immediately asks how much Gwen has revealed to him. And when she tries to play it off, he openly says 'Maybe that's not enough.' He's not angry with Gwen, but he is disappointed, which in turn motivates him to have his discussion with Miles.

"Super humane, and not creepy."

One of my favorites, because it's hard to catch and to the point. After talking about Hobie and Gwen's mission history, they're taken to Margo and the control room. As Miles marvels at Margo and the Go-Home-Machine, and Gwen says she voted against it. However, Hobie says blatantly: 'Holy shit, Miles isn't this inhumane and weird???', validating that the Society is willing to do inhumane, hurtful stuff to those it deems 'misplaced'.

Next comes Hobie's confrontation with Miles.

Because Hobie knows this is his last movements with Miles before he meets Miguel, and this is where if final push of emotional support kicks in, before he goes quiet in front of Miguel.

And because this conversation is so well layered, I think it's best to go line by line. ______________________________

H: "Bet this doesn't even do anything." M: "Maybe it did before you ripped it out of a wall!"

Hobie has now confirmed that he'll be making an exit soon. And he begins his finally sweep of parts he needs for his watch, stocking up his pockets. He's not stealing to steal. He knows he's leaving and this is his last chance to get what he needs before he's out the door.

"Propaganda, bro! It's to distract you from the truth!"

HOLY SHIT I missed this one. Notice how in this shot, Gwen is not visible at all. Hobie notices they're out of hershot of her for the first time. And his first line is - 'Propaganda.' Their watches can take them anywhere. When Gwen needed to, she was taken to exactly where she needed in Mumbattan. But when they're heading towards HQ, Jessica makes them walk through the lobby. They could have been sent directly to Miguel's station, but instead she makes them do the whole tour, which serves as a flex of muscle. In order, Miles was shown the massive number of members in the Society, then their prisoners, then the go-home-machine. Only THEN can they see Miguel. All of which was intent to intimidate Miles on purpose. Hobie tells him directly: 'Everything you just saw was propaganda.'

M: And what's that?

"I ain't got a Scooby Doo, mate. Cause that's what they want."

One of the most iconic and notable of his quotes. Cockney aside, this line ties back in with his discussion with Gwen just a couple minutes before. They've done their tour and walk. Both Jess and Gwen have been given a chance to prime or explain to Miles anything, and both have chosen not to. So Hobie simply tells him, 'They want you in the dark. And they're sending you into a fight.'

The next line is:

H: Why do you want to be part of this lot? M: To get a watch. H: Make your own watch.

Miles sucks his teeth at Hobie.

Because of this - Hobie begins to change methods. Which I cannot stress is incredibly perceptive of him.

Miles is exasperated with him. So instead of dissuasion and making the society out to be uncool, he tries to turn Miles' attention towards his family.

"Bet you got a nice setup, huh? Nice parents?"

This line is a very well done one, with two things of notice. First, I find it interesting that the screenplay phrases this line as a question, not a sentence. Hobie is asking. He's taking a shot in the dark here. And this is backed up by his delivery; Hobie hesitates while saying this. The only line in which he does so. He may not know about Miles' mom and dad, because Gwen hadn't met them when she met Hobie. But still, Hobie asks, hoping the reminder of Miles' parents will dissuade him from continuing.

M: They're fine. H: [After this line, Hobie turns black and white momentarily. Potentially a nod to the fact that this conversation is the only 'black and white' one Miles has had so far.] M: But we got into a fight. They just want what's best for me, so...

[Hobie frowns. The scene and dialogue REALLY starts to pick-up from here.]

"That's a bloody shame. Because you're not ready for everyone else."

As the scene progresses Hobie goes from behind Miles, to beside him like an ally. Then, when Gwen finally comes back into frame, Hobie crosses in front of him. When Miles mentions his parents wanting what's best for him, Hobie warns that everyone else does not want what's best for him. At the same time, visually Gwen has her back to Miles, and Hobie puts himself between Miles and Gwen, trying to block his path. The scene is set up to show that in Hobie's eyes, Gwen is turning her back on Miles. She does not have his best interest in mind. Hobie is telling Miles 'They're using propaganda on you, they're keeping you in the dark, and they do not have your best interest at mind. You're not ready for this." And he physically tries to block Miles from continuing, one last time.

Miles goes through Hobie, and now within earshot of Gwen again, this is Hobie's final chance and push to get as much information into Miles as he can - without freaking Miles out. Above all else, he needs Miles to be prepared, confident, and willing to fight back.

His voice becomes more serious, and he starts speaking more straight-forward and a lot less cryptically.

"Listen to me, bruv. The whole point of being Spider-man is your independence. Being your own boss, you don't need all this!"

I think Hobie saying this reveals a lot about his character, especially understanding the context where he's from. While many Spider-men would agree that being Spider-man is about responsibility and power - to Hobie, it is about independence, and freedom. Hobie is a freedom fighter, and one of the only Spider-men besides Noir that knows how to fight systemic threats as well as physical ones. To him, being Spiderman is about being able to free yourself and others. It's about independence and freedom, and he's trying to nail that in Miles' head one last time.

M: Then why are you here?

"Looking out for my drummer, is all."

As the scene is coming to a close, the writers chose this time to reveal some of Hobie's motivations, starting with the independence comment, and now this. Despite knowing about Gwen's deception towards Miles, he is still looking out for her - and Miles. This is the writers' and Hobie's last push to solidify himself as an ally to Miles and the viewer.

M: I want to be in a band. I want to see my friends, and I need a watch to do that. G: Guys, come on.

"Alright, Squashed. Just don't enlist until you know about who you're fighting."

I genuinely had to sit and ask myself why the writers would choose to leave Hobie's collective effort - a LOT of effort - with this line. And honestly, I think it's a perfect segway. Hobie chooses his words very clearly; He doesn't say 'what', he says 'who'. The next scene leads into Miguel's intro, and up until this point, Miles doesn't know who he is. He only knows about the Society, but never who is at the top. We know about Miguel, but all Miles knows is his name. That's why Hobie says 'who you're fighting'. Because the Society isn't really a Society, and this isn't really between Miles and the Society at all. It's a dictatorship - and the person he's enlisting to fight is Miguel. The perfect introduction and warning to the person he's about to meet. He's telling Miles, 'Don't rush into it. Wait until you meet Miguel first'. And when Miles does meet Miguel, he finally sees that this isn't the place he thought it was, just like Hobie said. ALSO EVEN MORE INTERESTINGLY - THIS is one of the lines that is changed between the two versions of spiderverse (there are two theatrical versions on release.) In the alternative he says 'Don't enlist unless you know what war you're fighting.' And I think that the fact the writers chose to publish two different versions of this line goes to show how powerful they knew this line would be in Miles' characterization. There is so much Hobie has left to say to him, but only one line - and so we get two versions. How fun!

With the scene now over, we see a change in Hobie's demeanor, and I love the writers' choice to have the shot linger on Hobie.

We see him give Miles a look that isn't exactly full of confidence, but from this point forward, Hobie chooses to hang back, no longer having any motivation to instigate. He knows his work here is done, and now all he can really do is wait for Miguel to reveal his true colors, and hope that he got through enough to Miles that he will react, and fight back.

And closing out the scene - I noticed that when Peter B. arrives Hobie pointedly says

"Oh boy, Humbling Reality Spider-man has arrived."

All I'll say about this is Hobie has to be Jamaican cause that was so mfing rude shgjfkghjgjkdfjk

Hobie has about three lines between this point and then end of his screentime - Two of which were his lines to Mayday, and his comment during the canon events.

But there is one shot of him before it all happens. And after this shot the movie begins staging Hobie in specific a very different way than anyone else.

The moment begins with Miles' line 'My Dad is about to be captain.'

The camera pans to each character. Gwen, Peter, and Jess all avert their eyes. Miguel looks at Miles. And Hobie is the only one who looks at all of them. Instead of looking down, he looks to the others, in anticipation of whats going to happen. It's also important to note that this was probably news to Hobie. He probably didn't know Miles' dad was a cop - or at the very least going to be captain. So the understanding of just how much trouble Miles is in kinda multiplies in this moment.

Then, this happens

From this point forward, every time Hobie is portrayed, he is shown as separate from the other characters, always being divided from the group - with Miles as the divider. Even as the camera moves, Hobie visually remains - quite literally - as the only person in Miles' corner. And as the scene goes on, he moves farther and farther into that corner.

Until finally the scene comes to a climax, and Hobie gets two shots to himself - delivering his final lines.

"Here we go." - "Hobie, You're not helping." - "Good."

GUYS IM GONNA CRY OKAY IM GONNA CRY

This is Hobie seeing his work pay off. This is him knowing that he got through to Miles and that it was worth it. He's proud of him.

Hobie knew what he came to do, and he used literally every line he said to Miles to the FULLEST extent. He doesn't give a fuck if he's not helping the Society. He's helping Miles. And now he knows his work is done.

Being a punk is not about being a hero, it's about empowering those who feel powerless. HE UNDERSTOOD THE MOTHERFUCKING ASSIGNMENT.

IN SHORT - HOLLYWOOD PAY YOUR FUCKING WRITERS I SWEAR TO GOD.

if you read this far let me know :) thanks bye

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (Cont.)

MC: ...

Raphael: *in shackles*

MC: ...

MC: What the fuck- Did I do this?

Bael, Amon, Stolas, and Naberius: ...

Bael, Amon, Stolas, and Naberius: *nod*

MC: ...

MC: *pressed their fingers to the bridge of their nose*

MC: Yeah... This is what I get for choosing the easy route. *decided to try summoning angels they could eat and accidentally summoned Raphael instead*

Bael: Nevertheless, this is a success since you captured Seraph Raphael with minimal effort.

MC: ...

MC: Bael, I'm NOT that powerful. And I don't know how long till I lose my power over him.

Naberius: Should we eliminate him now?

Stolas: We should!

MC: ...

Amon: It seems you have something in mind.

MC: You noticed?

Bael: What is it you're thinking?

MC: Listen, we have a seraph in front of us.

MC: There's only one thing to do in times like this.

Amon: ...

Amon: Devour him?

MC: *facepalm*

Naberius: Amon...

MC: Experiments, spells, and I'm interested in his weapon, so I'm stealing that.

Raphael: *tries to speak but no words are coming out of his mouth*

MC: Prepare a room for me and- *looks at Raphael* *then nods to themselves*

MC: Get me a wagon.

Bael: Pft-

MC: *has created new sets of seeds, but they have no purpose yet*

Raphael: *looking at the seeds*

MC: Scared I'll turn you into a demon?

MC: Trust me, I'm not going to do that.

MC: ...

MC: Or I might change you into something.

MC: Like a dove or a hamster.

Raphael: ...

MC: *imagined it for a second then grimaced* You won't be cute.

Raphael: *angry expression*

MC: Anyway, let's get started. *pulls out a small knife*

Raphael: ...

MC: *cuts their finger and lets the blood drip on the floor* *then walks up to him*

MC: Open your mouth.

Raphael: ...

Raphael: *follows their instruction*

MC: *made him drink a few droplets of their blood* *then starts saying an incantation*

Raphael: ...

Raphael: *begins to feel feverish, but soon a sense of calm washes over him*

MC: ...

MC: That's weird. You're taking it well. Or maybe because you're a seraph, who knows.

Raphael: ...

MC: If you’re curious, I’ve placed a magical explosive inside your body.

MC: Defy my orders and you'll be dead.

Raphael: ...

Michael: ...

The angels: ...

Michael: Raphael has been captured, you say?

A cherub: Yes, sir. We'll be on our way to save him.

Michael: ...

Michael: You think someone like you could save a seraph?

A cherub: ...No, sir.

Michael: ...

Michael: Raphael will be able to handle it himself.

MC: *eating a fried angel's meat next to Raphael*

Raphael: ...

MC: You know, I've never tasted a seraph before.

MC: I wonder if you'll taste good.

Raphael: ...

MC: By the way, want some?

Raphael: ...

MC: This shit slaps if you just forget it was an angel before.

Raphael: ...

Raphael: *has a subtle smile on his face*

MC: *raises an eyebrow*

MC: If you're trying to intimidate me, that won't work.

*MC doesn't realize that it's not the reason why he's smiling.*

*In Gehenna*

Satan: MC CAUGHT RAPHAEL?!

Gehenna devils: *in shock*

Leviathan: *on the other line* Yes. It appears they’re trying to exert control over him.

Satan: *laughs* They're learning.

Leviathan: No. They need to be cautious.

Satan: Don't you trust them, Levi?

Leviathan: It's not that I don't, but I believe something ominous is about to happen.

Satan: And what could that be?

[greyskyflowers]

I really really really wish that Edwin had stay all bloody and filthy when he and Charles came back from hell.

Blood feels weird. It's got a weird.. texture? Consistency? Idk. Anyway, if I was in a dark room and someone said can you guess if it's water or blood on your hand? I would probably be able to tell by feeling it. As it dries it gets a sticky tar feeling and personally, it makes me itch when it dries.

Not to mention the smell and taste of it.

It's unpleasant.

Listen, I had a lot of nose bleeds when I was little, like my parents took me to prompt care because there was so much blood and it'd go on for like a hour straight heavy nose bleeds. I was also played a bunch of sports and was outside a lot so lots of experience with blood.

I think Edwin would absolutely hate the feel of blood on him. Now, ghosts may not be able to feel it like the living would, but I feel like it would still feel weird on them. Maybe like when you walk through a spider web and it's just that almost unnoticeable wispy tug on your skin?

I feel like Charles wouldn't mind it. In a way, he's probably used to it.

And he's the brawn so like of course he's cool with blood, greysky. Where are you going with this?

I think there's a specific intimacy with cleaning someone up.

They're familiar with cleaning blood off each other, although never to this extent and usually it's Charles getting clean up instead of Edwin. He finds he doesn't quite like the role reversal.

So what if...

Edwin came back from hell still bloody and filthy, hands sliding on the floor when he tries to brace himself to get up, looking at Charles with huge, terrified eyes.

A unspoken I don't know what to do is this real please help me what do I do what if it never comes off Charles please

And Charles doesn't even hesitate. He's on his feet and helping Edwin up in seconds.

He ignores the way the blood is making his own skin sticky and probably getting all over his clothes. Instead he notices how in the light he can see there's faint lines running down Edwin's cheeks that don't seem as filthy as the rest of him, how he's still barefoot and it makes him a little shorter than he usually is, how he's grabbing back at Charles a little desperately and is doing everything he can to keep him close.

They could feel each other down in Hell. Charles could feel how cold Edwin's fingers were and his own skin had broken out in goosebumps. Leaving seems to have returned them to normal but there's a little extra sensitivity, a little extra rawness, to his skin.

So he makes sure the water is warm, because he doesn't know if Edwin's skin feels the same way and taking a chance by cleaning him up with cold water feels cruel.

It doesn't stop the shaking though.

And the water swirls down the drain in shades of black, red, and pink.

One of the girls leaves a few big towels by the door and Charles brings them in by opening the door just enough to squeeze them through. He's not ready to let the real world in yet.

Edwin sits there, all wrapped up in a big, fluffy towel and looking lost in the quiet of a bathroom that still smells like mud and rust, like he's still not sure he's really there.

Charles takes a smaller towel to his hair, dries it until it's all messy and Edwin looks so young in the florescent lights as he blinks up at him. The shadows under his eyes seem worse without the filth covering them.

Charles cleans himself up too because the idea of getting blood on Edwin now makes him want to throw up. Edwin sits in the same spot and stares off into space in a way that makes him keep the shower curtain half open to watch him.

It feels like the world has narrowed down to just them. The mirror is still fogged up from the steam and it's quiet except for the occasional drip from the faucet.

There's a dampness in the air as they sit there next to each other, but it's nothing like the heavy humidity that seemed to linger in those hallways where he found Edwin.

They sit there on the floor, wrapped up in damp towels, backs to the door and they stare at the wall. Edwin tilts his head just enough to cautiously rest in on Charles's shoulder, like he's still scared this will turn out to be a trick, and Charles finally let's out the breath he's been holding in since Edwin was taken.

💧💧💧

I don't know. The vulnerability and intimacy of cleaning someone up, taking care of them like that, it always gets me. 😢

[bigification]

Bear Darts

"Yes! They finally came in." I say in excitement as I pick up a package in front of my dorm. I rush inside and rip open the package. 8 small darts with a weird green liquid inside and a bamboo tube. "There's no way they actually work right?" The website seemed so legit and the concept seemed too good to be true. "Guaranteed to transform any man into a certified bear." Was the tag line. I am tempted to jab one of them into my arm right now, but I'm too nervous. What if it's just poison or something? I should at least test it out, it'll be fun anyway.

I stuff the darts and the bamboo into my bag and head to campus. Who to start with? Mr. Henderson could be a good option. I don't like him so if it goes wrong I don't care, and he's pretty scrawny so I'll be able to see any difference. I decide to head to Mr. Henderson's office, figuring he'll be a good test run.

On the way, I come across a raccoon rummaging through garbage in an alley, and an idea sparks through my mind. If it's that harmful, it would hurt a raccoon, so I might as well test them out. I pull out a dart and the bamboo and head into the alley. I slot the dart into the end of the bamboo, line up the shot, and blow as hard as I can. I hear the swoosh of the dart piercing the wind. The dark hits the raccoons back and it barely reacts, as if it's just a measly mosquito bite. The green liquid drains out of the dart, and I wait for a reaction. It doesn't take long for the animal to start twitching. It's hard to tell in the shadow of the alley, but my kind went straight to the worst, it was poisonous. But then I saw its body change shape. It wasn't much, but its scrawny limbs grew thicker, its belly grew rounder, and its grubby little paws grew larger. By the end, it still resembled a raccoon, just larger and meatier than you'd expect a raccoon to be. Could this be real? I continue watching as the raccoon resumes its normal activities.

I let out a chuckle in excitement at what was yet to come. I walk back out of the alley and speed walk to Mr. Henderson's office, this was gonna be good. The website said results may vary depending on what the person looked like before the transformation, and based on other things like genetics. Essentially it's random. But I was still hoping to see Mr. Henderson with a big hairy gut spilling out of his shirt.

I finally make it to his office and I slowly open his door just a sliver. He's standing in the middle of the room, looking over at the wall to the left of the door. I feel confident enough that he's not able to see the door from the way he's looking. I look over to see he's very concentrated on a bunch of photos hung up on the wall, which makes sense as he's a photography prof.

I take a mental image of the prof before I line up the shot, so I can compare the before and after in my mind. He's got buzz cut and a bushy salt and pepper beard. His frame is quite skinny but I can see a little bit of a belly and moobs under his shirt. That shirts definitely not doing him any favours, I wonder what it will look like on him after. His arms and legs are scrawny, with little fat or muscle on them. He's also wearing some camo shorts.

Now with his image locked in my head, I prepare a dart and like up the shot. Same with the raccoon, I blow as hard as I can and the dart lodges into the side of his belly. He flinches for a moment, but then stops in places. I can see his muscle twitching, as if they're cramping and freezing him in place. It all happens so quickly. It starts with his belly. His small belly grows in waves of soft fat, each wave packing dozens of pounds. Each wave makes his gut jiggle more and more as it grows rounder and rounder. His gut and his love handles spill over his waistline as his shirt rides up, revealing a stretched out belly button. Soon enough, it appears as though he stuffed a small beach ball into his stomach with how large it is. Though it is soon complemented by a growing pair of soft moobs. If what he had before were moobs, he now has full on man tits. They're soft and round, pressing tightly against his shirt. I can even see his nipples harden under the shirt. Next to fall is his ass. His once flat derriere quickly plumped up similar to his belly. Waves of fat perked up his ass as it threatened to rip through his shorts. The button on his pants popped off and flung across the office in dramatic fashion, leaving his fly wide open. His arms and his legs thickened slightly as a layer of fat covered them, though they stayed quite skinny in proportion to his body. Also, in the process, his beard had grown out and became almost all grey.

The entire time I could feel my dick riding up into my waist band. This was so much hotter than I expected it to be. I want to go in there and get my hands on that fatass so bad, but I have to have restraint. His muscles have stopped twitching and he seems back in control, though he still seems laser focused on the wall of photos. He reaches to scratch his belly and seems a bit shocked at the fact that he's scratching skin rather than shirt. "Huh, I coulda sworn this fit yesterday, musta shrunk in the wash." He shrugs, completely oblivious to the changes his body had just gone through. I don't know if I find it more or less hot that he seems to not care that he's a fatass. I don't have time to think about it though, as he starts to turn towards the door. I quickly grab my bag and run. I'll get to see him for photography class tomorrow anyway.

I think about who I want to hit next. I've got 6 darts left and plenty of profs on my list. Now that it seems safe, I'm more willing to go for profs I like. So I think one of the hottest prof off the top of my head. Mr. Ahmed. God he's hot. He's got perfectly toned skin, a thick black beard, and beautiful eyes. The only thing is he's quite skinny, and I like my men thick. So this is the perfect opportunity, and his office is close by.

I arrive at his office and see him just on his phone. My mouth salivates as I think about what I'm gonna do to him. I pull out a dart and shoot it. It lands right into his biceps and the green liquid rapidly drains from the dart. My hand instinctively drifts to my crotch as I wait in anticipation.

He froze in place, just like Henderson. But this time it started from his arm instead of his belly, it must be from wherever the dart hits. His once skinny arm swells, ripping his sleeve in the process. His forearm followed suit, growing a thick pelt of hair in the process as his delicate hand grew into a monstrous man hand. The transformation continued into his shoulders, then to his chest. His shoulders broadened, pushing his small shirt to its limits. Then his suddenly exploded outward, tearing straight through what was left of his shirt. Thick muscles now lay under thick man tits as they hand over his stomach. His already thick chest hair became more dense as his nipples grew large and sensitive. His other arm quickly grew just as large as the first, evening out his hulking body. His exposed belly went from flat to large and rotund in a matter of seconds, though it remained quite solid from strong muscle that grew below it. His gut befell a similar fate to the rest of his body, being covered in a layer of dark hairs.

His lower half quickly grew to match his upper half. Fat and muscle flooded into his ass and thighs until his dress pants ripped in dramatic fashion, leaving him in nothing but his extremely tight underwear, leaving little to the imagination. The legs continued to grow, and his feet seemed to grow at least five sizes, busting out of his shoes. Finally his facial features began to change. The rather young professor looked as if he aged 15 years in just moments as wrinkles and blemishes riddled his face, and his hairline receded slightly. His face also seemed to become a bit chubbier, matching his hulking gut.

He finally unfroze, seeming unfazed by changes in his body. He reached to stretch some of his muscles, I'm sure they're sore after such an intense transformation. But he quickly realized his lack of clothing and left to a backroom to find some. The idea that he wouldn't be able to find any clothes that remotely fit him made it all the more hot for me, but I got out before I got caught.

I was on top of the world, there was no way I would stop now. I thought about who to find next, and the choice seemed obvious. Mr. Salim, how could I forget the health and fitness prof. Ive never had him, but damn it is tempting to take a fitness class just to get to look at him more. He kinda looked like Mr. Ahmed but buff, cocky, and far more charming.

I quickly made it to the fitness building and found his office. I peaked in and saw him working out with his earbuds in, this was my shot. Without hesitation I load a dart and shoot. I chuckle quietly as I see the dart lodge into his ass. He goes to scratch his ass but fails to notice the dart, soon after he drops his weights and freezes in place. His already perky ass grows slightly, but not as much as I'd expect. Still enough to pants ride down his ass a bit, revealing a bright blue jockstrap. Of course Mr. Salim would wear a jockstrap. His thighs grow significantly, bulging with muscle to the point of ripping his pants. The rest of his legs follow suit, growing thick calves and massive feet.

I can see under his shirt that his waist is tightening up, which is surprising given that he's the first one to not get fat. A little disappointing if you ask me, but I'm not disliking what I see so far. His shoulders broaden and his chest puffs out, ripping right through his shirt. His arms nearly double in size, making his look like a bodybuilder as his hands grow to match. His face seemed to age as some of his hair turned grey. As he aged, his already hairy body became even more so, covering most of his body in thick salt and pepper hair. Even his stubble grew out into a thick silver beard.

Mr. Salim put down his weights, got up, and walked to the mirror in his office. He turned so he could see his ass in the mirror and snapped a photo.

A part of me was hoping to see him become a fat slob, something about fat gym teachers always got me going. But I certainly wouldn't complain about this view.

The health and fitness building is right beside geography and history, so I should head there. I try to think of a teacher I've had in this department. Maybe Mr. Smith? I had him for first year history and he's hot, I just remember him being a bit weird. That doesn't matter, I'm already on my way to his office.

I peak through his door and see him focused on his computer, perfect timing. I load a dart and shoot it. It hits him in the side of his thigh. Within moments I can see his jeans struggling to contain his growing legs. His jeans become even tighter as fat fills his ass, creating a loud pop sound as his belt snaps off.

His slim torso expands until he has a thick muscle gut and love handles that spill over his jeans. His chest grows into two strong but soft looking pecs that are impossible to miss through his tight shirt. His arms explode with muscle, making it look like they're gonna rip his sleeves. Finally his face fattens up a bit as a short beard covers his soft jawline.

Mr. Smith leans back in his chair and crossed his arms over his tank of a gut.

It wasn't what I expected for Mr. Smith to be honest. I expected him to turn into a big fat history teacher, but he is hotter as a muscle chub. As I'm watching, he goes to unzip his jeans. He whips out his massive dick and starts to jerk off. Damn I didn't expect Mr. Smith to be packing that, but maybe it's a side effect of the darts. I keep watching until he swivels his chair in my direction, I can't risk being caught so I leave.

I look at my watch and realize I've lost track of time, I have a math class right now. I run across the campus to my math class and quietly sit at the back of the theatre.

I quickly get bored and wonder if I should hit Mr. Derrick with a dart in the middle of the lecture. It's risky but I'm bored so fuck it. I pull out the dart and try to shoot it as quietly as possible and it hits him square in the stomach. Mr. Derrick is a very scrawny man, so I'm curious about how it's gonna effect him.

As soon as he gets hit, he stops talking and freezes in place, but weirdly enough, no one in the class seems to notice. The man's skinny body explodes with fat. At first he grows a small pot belly, then a sizable beer belly, then it settles as a giant ball gut that looks like he stuffed a beach ball down his button up. I'm surprised his shirt has ripped yet. His chest grows two man tits that are visible through his shirt. The sleeve of his jacket starts to look like stuffed sausages as his fat arms fill out all the space in them. The man's thighs thicken until his pants start to rip and his fat ass causes his fly to rip open. Finally his clean shaven face grows a thick brown beard.

He continued the lecture as if nothing had happened. His lack of awareness of his body makes even more hot. I can't believe he ended up that fat, I can see his gut spill out of his shirt each time he reaches up. And every part of his body bounces when he walks around. Eventually he ended up sitting down for the second half of the lecture, and he was often out of breath from just talking.

Once the lecture is over, I walk up to the front of the theatre and talk to Mr. Derrick.

"Hey, I've been struggling keeping up with the material lately, I was wondering if we could have a one on one session?" I ask him.

"Oh ya for sure, just come by during my office hours and I'd be happy to help." He responds. The man is practically panting at this point and I can see the sweat start to drench his beard.

"By the way, I don't think that shirt fits you anymore sir." I say just to make him uncomfortable. He just looks down, blushes, and runs off. Hobbling as fast as he can out of the theatre.

I got two darts left, I should use them wisely. The only teacher I can think of right now is Mr. Brown. His voice is so deep and buttery but his body doesn't match it, he's really skinny. I think he'd be better off as a bear anyway.

I make my way to the athletics facility, I've had him for French and English class, so I know where to find him. He works out around this time most days, so I make my way to the gym. As I walk to the gym, I see him in the corner of my eye in the showers. He's turned away from me, so I quickly take my shot, hitting him in the back. His back muscles grow and become more defined before a thick layer of fat covered them and creates thick rolls down his back. His stomach grows into a sizable belly with a thick belly button. His chest expands, first to juicy pecs, but then they slowly soften into a pair of moobs. His traps grow as his shoulders broaden, I also notice that he's getting taller, like a lot taller. He was shorter than me, but now his head is well above the shower head. His arms grow to match the rest of his hulking body.

Next his ass widened and started to sag slightly under its own weight. His thighs thickened until they rubbed together and his feet grew from a size 11 to a monstrous size 20. I also noticed his dick grow to at least 10 inches, if not more. All the while he was still getting taller, by now his shoulders were above the shower head. Finally his facial features became softer and fatter as the hair on his head fell out, although his stubble grew into a thick black beard.

As the transformation ends, Mr. Brown reaches behind him and grabs the dart out of his back. He's the only one to have noticed it. He looks at the dart for a moment, then turns toward me. I try to duck behind the wall, but I think he saw me. I hide in one of the bathroom stalls until I hear him leave, with the size of that man, it's not hard to tell where he's walking.

Once I can't hear him anymore, I rush out of the stall and grab my bag. But just as I reach the door, I bump into Mr. Brown. He's waiting at the doorway with a small green towel wrapped around his waist.

"What's this?" He says holding up one of my darts. Interestingly enough, it's a full one. The one I shot him with should be empty, so that means. Oh no. I look through my bag, the last dart is gone. Before waiting for a response, Mr. Brown just grabs my arm and jabs the dart into it.

I feel frozen in place. My clothes feel tighter and tighter until I hear them rip. I feel the warmth of the locker room air touch my bare skin. I start to feel itchy all over my body as my perspective shifts higher and higher. I feel so strong. I feel like I've grown a foot in height, but I'm still at eye level with Mr. Browns chest.

I finally gain control of my body and look down at the damage. I have thick pecs and a little bit of a belly, all covered in hair. Thick arms and legs, also covered in hair, actually my entire body is now covered in hair. And the bulge in my underwear is massive.

I turn my attention back to Me. Brown.

"Where did you get these?" He asks in his deep intimating voice. I stutter for a moment. "I'm not gonna snitch, I just got a few people I want to use it on." Mr. Brown asks. My fear turns to excitement as I realize the damage Mr. Brown and I are gonna do together.

[teardropsonmypaper]

To Win Her Back~ Pt1:Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve and Nancy just broke up, an idea pops into his head. To make her jealous and his way to do so is fake date you, a girl who can't resist the offer he had made. A/N: This is going to a part of a series, I don't know long as of yet. I just got back into writing, I'm always accepting to feedback. Please re-blog and feel free to comment! I had so much fun writing this, I hope you enjoy! Word Count: 3188 Warnings: Use of Y/N, Parental loss, Sick Parent, The reader uses she/her pronouns and identifies as female, intimate remarks (nothing towards Steve and reader). I think that's all I can remember, lmk if there's anything else. ......

You walked silently to your locker in the ever-so busy hallway of Hawkins High School, people lined the walls, gossiping, making out with their fling of the week, or just minding their own business. Your headphones were blaring with some Black Sabbath song, making it near impossible for you to pay any attention to the soundsaround you. You were the silent type, but somehow in this small town, everyone knew your business, how your mother passed giving birth to your little sister 4 years ago or how your father was recently diagnosed with leukemia. Everyone knew everyone’s business and you weren’t excluded by any chance. You make your way to your locker, and open it collecting your belongings before heading home. As you walk away, someone slams your locker for you, loud enough for you to hear it through your headphones. You jump and see King Steve standing on the other side of your locker.

You quickly pause your music on your cassette player, “What the fuck was that for?” You ask, crossing your arms. Even though you were typically a quiet girl, you had quite the temper.

Steve smirked and ran his hand through beautiful hair. You never really talked to him, you used to sit next to him during your Freshman year, but that was the only interaction you had with him in high school. “Just tryna’ get your attention”, he said casually, the smirk still evident. 

“Why?” You asked sassily, arms still crossed. It wasn’t like Steve normally wanted your attention, you never thought he even noticed you, you really just blended into the crowd.

He moved closer to you, now leaning onto your locker,”I have a proposition for you.” You raise your eyebrow, curious. “And that is?”

“Nancy and I broke up”,he said, his smirk faltering a bit. You knew that, everyone in Hawkins knew, gossip spread like wildfire around this stupid little town. You nodded, not really understanding why he was telling you that. “How does that involve me?, Harrington.”

He suddenly became a bit nervous, his body language shifted, a nervous hand running through his hair, once again,”Um..I was wondering if you and I…god this is weird..um if we could..shit I don't know how to say this..”

“Just spit it out already.” You say impatiently, along with your temper you didn’t like to keep waiting. 

“I want you to be my fake girlfriend”, he blurted. At first, you feel your eyes widen,but then you start laughing. This has to be some joke or prank or something. “Gosh, you’re a real comedian, Harrington.”

“Y/N”, his demeanor turned serious,”I’m not joking.” For the second time, your eyes feel like they're bulging out your head, you couldn’t believe that Steve Harring, the King of Hawkins High, was asking you to become his fake girlfriend. Every girl, maybe some guys wanted Steve Harrington, he was the dream guy, he was an asshole 99% of the time, but it didn’t matter, he was hot and the captain of the swim team and star player in basketball. Every girl wanted him.

“Why?”you began,astounded by his question,”First off, you literally just got out of a relationship. Second of all, everyone goddamn girl in this school will willingly jump your bones if you ask them, or even look at them. I’m not that kind of girl, Harrington.” 

"Y/N”, he began,”That’s exactly why I want you to be my fake girlfriend, you’re the only one who wouldn’t try seducing me the first chance you get.”

I sigh,”Why do you even need a fake girlfriend?” I ask, curiously. 

He let out a nervous chuckle,”I want to make Nancy jealous,”he pauses,”Y’know show her what she’s missing.” You nod, understanding what he’s saying, but you can’t help but feel weirded out. You felt weird that somebody would even ask you to be their fake girlfriend,”Steve..I don’t know..it’s kinda weird and-”

“I’ll pay you!”, he blurts. You cross your arms and scoff, feeling suddenly offended that you offered to even pay you. He quickly senses your shift of mood and opens his mouth,”100 bucks per week, I know you could use the money for you dad.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, frustrated. You did need the money, you were only surviving off of your mom’s inheritance and your father’s disability check, and the medical bills were not cheap. Your waitress job was barely even covering the rent at this point, you groan before finally agreeing. 

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver”, he says, pulling you into a hug. You pat his shoulder, trying to push yourself off, you’re not a big hugger. You only really hugged your sister and dad for the most part. “You’re welcome”, you quickly change your tone to something more threatening,”Listen, Harrington, I swear to fucking god, Harrington. If you get any ideas into the fucking head of yours, I swear I will kick your ass.”

He puts his hands up defensively,”Hey, hey, hey”, he reassures,”Trust me, no funny business from me.” I nod, pulling my bag up to my back.

“I gotta go, Harrington.”, you started before trying to walk away through the now-empty hallway,”Gotta sister to pick up from preschool.”

He nods before calling out,”We need to make a set of rules, sometime”.

You turn your back to him and call as you walk towards the doors,”My house, 7pm, don’t be late.” You quickly make yourself to the back parking lot to find your old beat up station wagon, your dad’s turned yours. He couldn’t drive much anymore so he gave it to you, to run errands and what not. You hop into the car and turn your keys into the ignition before speeding off to the preschool. You were already 10 minutes late. 

During the drive you couldn’t help but think about your new situation, you were now Steve Harrington’s girlfriend, well fake one but nobody could know that. You find yourself groaning at the thought, Steve Harrington was the most popular guy in school and you were practically a nobody. You just faded into the background, nothing was particularly special about you besides your great taste in music in style. It was safe to say, you were different but not noticeably. You wore light makeup and opted for more of a 70s look, you loved the decade prior to the one you were currently living in. Everything from the music and to the fashion and the hair, you were in love. Most people called you dated, but you called yourself cultured. But now since you were now “dating” Steve, you were now going to be more in the spotlight.

You pull into the pre-school, quickly spotting Melissa and her pre-school teacher. You pull up to them and quickly get out of the car, ushering to Melissa. "You're late again, sissy”, Melissa nagged. You quickly picked her up in your arms,”Sorry Lis, got caught up.” You apologized and turned to her teacher,”Thank you for waiting.” She hummed in response as you quickly opened the back seat up and put her in her carseat.

“Miss Y/N”, the teacher began,”We love having Melissa with us, but you owe us almost a hundred dollars. We've been trying to be patient, but we need you to pay your bill.”

You nod and sire, tiredly.”I’ll try having it by the end of the week, thank you.” She hums in response and you wave her a goodbye before getting into the station wagon and driving off. 

The ride home was surprisingly quiet, Lis passed out in the backseat, apparently her day was exhausting. You hummed to some rock song on the radio as you drove home. Hawkins was a nice town, you’d have to admit, however it had its disadvantages. Like the town aesthetic, perfect and beautiful, however the people were annoying. All they did was gossip, about everything and everyone. Oh, you’re married to an alcoholic? Exposed. Pregnant before marriage? Exposed. It was like you were automatically shunned if you were different. You silently pull up to your driveway. Getting out of the car and carefully unbuckling Lis as you made your way over, carrying her in your arms to the house.

You prop open the door into your small abode and walk in. “Hey girls”, you hear your father call weakly. You walk to the living room with Lis still in your arms, “Hey dad”, you say softly as you find him sitting in his leather arm chair, the thing has to be older than you. It has been his spot since you , yourself were an infant. You carefully set Lis on the couch before turning to your father,”Long day?”, you ask.

He shrugged,”Just slept most of it”, he said,”tried to clean up a bit, but it didn’t work so well.” You nod sympathetically and place a comforting hand on his back. It’s been hard to watch your dad struggle, he used to be the most hardworking man you ever knew. After your mother’s passing, your father worked 2 jobs and made sure to come home after his late night shift, just to make sure he had tucked you and your sister in. But now, he struggles to move or do things on his own. “It’s alright dad”, you say. 

He looks at you and it pains you, his eyes are always glassy and he’s been getting more pale. It wrecks you apart, truly. “Pumpkin, want to watch a movie?”, your father asks. You nod, and sit on the floor beside him as puts on E.T, you both fall into a comfortable silence as the movie plays. 

Hours pass and you find yourself in the kitchen, making dinner as you hear a knock on the door. “Sissy! Someone’s at the door!”, your sister calls.

You huff,”I hear that, Liss”, you interject,”Can you get it?” You hear her groan before she stomps to the door, like you, she has an attitude. 

“It’s a guy here for you!” She calls. Your eyes widen as you remember about Steve, you completely forgot you had invited him. “A guy?”, your father chirps from the kitchen table where he is now sitting, filling out a crossword puzzle. 

You glance over to the clock hanging on the wall and realize it’s 6:58, you quickly set down the can of tomato soup before walking to the front door and see your sister interrogating Steve. “Alright, Lis, stop questioning the poor guy”, you huff. She looks up at you,”Wasn’t questioning”. You give her a look before she scurries off into the kitchen.

“She’s cute”, Steve said. You nod. 

"She sure is something”, you move aside and let him in. 

He laughs a bit. “I’m making dinner right now if you’re hungry, tomato soup and grilled cheese”, you say. 

He nods, suddenly shy. It was unusual to see Steve shy, he walked around with some sort of arrogance and charisma usually. You lead him into the kitchen and your father immediately takes in Steve’s presence. “Heh”, your father begins,”This is a first, my daughter bringing a guy home.” You roll your eyes as your dad chuckles at his own comment. 

“Steve”, Steve says, outstretching his hand. Your father takes it, amused. “Oh, I know who you are. You’re dad owns that big ol business”

Steve nods and your father pats the seat next to him, “Sit, let’s talk.” Steve carefully sits next to your father.You bite back a smile, you knew what was to happen, your father was going to interrogate Steve, brutally. You didn’t bring guys home, not since sophomore year,when you got yourself a boyfriend, Eddie Munson. You couldn’t forget it, your father was newly a widower at the time, but oh did he bust Eddie’s balls, alright. He walked out the house after, acting like he just confessed to a murder or something. You ultimately wonder if that led to your break-up, but you knew it was really because you were just better off as friends. 

You continued to work on dinner as your father tore Steve a new asshole, your father may have been sick but he still acted like his old self, busting people’s balls. Your sister listened in, softly giggling as Steve would get flustered at a question your dad asked or when your father swore. Soon enough you finished supper and placed it on the sable along with some bowls and spoons. “That’s enough dad’”, you lightheartedly,”Don’t want another guy leaving the house scared shitless, do you?” 

Your dad shrugs,”Wouldn’t hurt.” You give your dad a look as he begins to chuckle, you smile to yourself before taking a seat next to Steve. ‘Well dig in, guys.”

Dinner was full of your sister rambling about her day, everyone else digging in trying to pay attention to her babbling. You look over to Steve and see him listening intently to the four-year olds rambling, it melts your heart for a second.

She stops her rambling as your father begins to speak,”So, pumpkin”, he addresses you,”What is Mr.Harrington’s relation to you?”

“He’s awfully cute”, your sister quips. Steve begins to chuckle softly as a pink shade tints his cheeks. 

You internally groan as you remember about the deal you made with Steve, to be his ‘girlfriend’. You try your best to be on a smile before taking Steve’s hand to yours, you swear you see Steve’s eyes widen as you touch him. “We’re dating”, you try to exclaim but it comes out more of a question than anything. Your father raises his eyebrows before humming. 

“You guys are dating?!”Lis breaks out smiling. Her chubby cheeks prominent as she grins,”That’s so cute! That means you guys are in love!” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that one, whilst Steve nearly chokes. “So in love”, you sarcastically.

Your father raises an eyebrow at your comment but says nothing. He takes another spoonful of his soup in his mouth before speaking up,”About time”, your father says,”You’ve been working too hard and worrying too much, maybe Harrington here might loosen you up.”

You let your eyes widen surprised, you never thought your father, the ball buster himself, would accept a guy for you to date. Well as he thinks you’re dating. You nod stunned to speak. Dinner finishes shortly after that, you help your father back into his recliner as you send Lis to clean up the table. You make your way back to the kitchen and find Steve washing the dishes. “You don’t have to”, you intervene. 

“I want to”, he says, washing a plate,”I insist, you cooked and I’m gonna clean up at least, as a thank you.”

Before you could reply, Lis beats you to it,”He’s such a gentleman, he’s your gentleman, Y/N/N.”, she teases.

“Melissa, shut it”, you say embarrassed,”You’re just happy because you don’t have to rinse.”

Your sister nods before running off to the living room. “I’m sorry about her, she’s a handful”, you apologize.

Steve laughs,”It’s all good, she’s cute”. You both begin to fall in a comfortable silence, you wipe the counter and sweep the floor as he finishes the dishes. You never took Steve to be the type to wash up or be gentle with a child, you always thought he was too egotistical to be caring or sensitive but maybe you were wrong after all, or maybe he changed. Shortly, the kitchen is clean and you bring Steve up to your bedroom to discuss the rules of your relationship. 

Once in your room, Steve looks around your room. Admiring the band posters of Fleetwood Mac, Black Sabbath, and many others that showered your walls. He stepped further and saw some of the artwork Lis had made that was pinned to a corkboard. “I like your room”, he compliments. He traces your light green quilt that sat on your bed, as you grabbed your notebook. “Thanks”, you mumble. 

You sit down on your bed and pad the spot next to you, encouraging Steve to sit next to you. He obliges and sits. “So time to make up the rules,” you announce, suddenly nervous,”1st rule, no heavy PDA. I don’t want to be those weirdos that are practically dry humping in the halls.”

Steve laughs as you write that down,”Yeah, no need to worry about that. We only need to hold hands and hug, maybe kiss on occasion.” 

“Hug? Kiss?”, you say with a grimace on your face,”Fore-warning, I am a terrible hugger and only kiss me if it’s absolutely necessary.”

He laughs at your remark,”Yeah, that’s fine, nothing you aren’t comfortable with.” You write that down as well. 

“You have to attend parties with me”, he adds. You raise your eyebrows,”Parties?”

“Yeah, it’d be weird if my girlfriend didn’t show up to them with me”, he points out. You internally groan, you did not like social gatherings but he had a valid point, so you complied and wrote it down.

A thought comes to your mind, and instantly you shiver at it before opening your mouth,”We are not going to have sex or anything along the lines”, you say, determinedly.

He throws his hands in the air backing away slightly,”Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that. You’re pretty and all but not my type”, he brushes it off. You couldn’t help but feel a bit upset with his words, not his type? That’s weird because you heard from a lot of girls that anyone that was a girl, was his type. You quickly right down ‘No sex’ onto the paper. 

“Last of all”, you begin,”No falling in love with me, this is simply to get you back with Nancy, alright?’

Steve nods,”Only if you promise not to fall in love with me, sweetheart.”

“Trust me I won;t”, you roll your eyes and write down ‘no falling in love with one another’ down. “I think that’s it”, you say before shutting your notebook down. 

“Alright”, Steve says standing up,”We’re officially fake dating, I’ll pick you up tomorrow before school?” 

You look at him with wide eyes,”You’re driving me to school?”

He nods,”Yes, Ma’am. I’ll be your chauffeur to and from school.” You cross your arms before opening your mouth,”Y’know I have to drop Lis off at preschool and pick her up too, right?”

‘She can come too”, he says. You sigh before agreeing. You bid goodbye and crash onto your bed once you hear the front door shut. A million thoughts were racing in your head, you were now Steve Harrington’s girlfriend and you were scared. This was out of your comfort zone by far, but you know you had to do this. You were struggling financially and Steve offered money, and in your current lifestyle, it wasn’t something you could turn down.

.....

A/N: I feel like there is wayyyy to much dialogue and it's a bit awkward, I accept feedback and requests! I hope you enjoyed!

[hyddeplays]

Redesigning Everlux since FR wouldn't

Okay, so I wanted to do this yesterday, have slept on it, and well... I haven't change my mind. I really don't like the Everlux design, and it's not because they're fat, or they "don't fit Light" or whatever. First off, kudos to FR for trying something truly “ancient” and breaking the mold. It’s creative, and I hope this trend continues! But I find the Everlux poorly designed, both anatomically and compositionally. P.S. Legs got changed because I liked @hypersaw's take that they should be buggy. Old more mammalian legs here. ------- Above is my proposed redesign of the F Pose Everlux, which I think is more functional and aligns with the Everlux’s description in the encyclopedia. Below is my design TLDR:

The legs are too spindly. If they landed, they’d barely touch the ground or be able to move easily. I think fatter, sturdier feet would solve most of the anatomical i

Some argue Everlux are meant to look weird and unsettling, but that’s not true — the encyclopedia describes them as elegant, beauty- and knowledge-oriented, and able to flutter with ease. However, they look like they can barely walk, and the wing-to-body ratio feels inadequate. The "arms" of the wings also don't seem strong enough to support the animal.

A second pair of wings would convey elegance and graceful flight while keeping the breed’s unique, chubby look.

-------

Secondly, the Everlux design suffers from severe tangent issues, a recurring problem in FR’s art direction, but particularly egregious here. Tangents, where lines touch or overlap awkwardly, make the silhouette look like an unreadable spindly ball.

I appreciate FR’s creative direction and efforts to combat fatphobia — many people unfairly dislike the Everluxes simply for being chubby, and therefore "undeserving" of being a Light ancient or whatever. I think it's a really pervasive and disturbing mindset, since I am 100% of the opinion that they could have been fat while still presenting as an elegant breed. I just wish FR would be more mindful of tangents and composition in their breed artwork.

[jasmineoolongtea]

Okay I have a weird request but since you're so good at writing I'm gonna shoot my shot lol. No pressure though! How about a huge misunderstanding between reader and jjk men (and boys), where one is somehow convinced the other is cheating (tho they're not and are totally loyal!) and it causes a big argument with one of them walking out and saying "I'm done." But then when they realise there was no cheating going on it's soft and sweet and full of apology? You can add whoever you'd like, though would love to see Gojo, Geto and Nanami!

a/n: hii anon thank you for your compliments <333 honestly when i saw the words 'weird request' i was thinking in a completely different direction from this but this request is totally normal so do not worry about it at all !!! also so sorry this took a while to get out back to you anon i had to study for and take my driver's licence test ;-; hope i can do your request justice and hope you enjoy it !!!

if anyone had asked gojo satoru what he thought of his relationship, his answer would undoubtedly be that it was rock solid, that nothing could ever phase the two of you, not even the end of the world, and he would probably take off with a skip in his step as he makes his way to go shower you in affection.

so then, if that was true, why was there a pang of an ugly and uncomfortable feeling making its way up his throat at the sight of someone else's jacket wrapped around your figure.

"i'm home, toru!" you cheerily announce, as usual, exhaustion from the day melting off your body as you shed your belongings at the entryway to your apartment. it's been a long day and there's nothing more that you would like to do than to slink back into bed and into your lover's forever warm embrace.

however, unlike usual, satoru does not greet you with a bright grin to sweep you up in his arms and pepper your face with kisses. instead, he stands motionless in the hallway, his face a mixture of emotions. he doesn't meet your eyes, choosing to glare at the new unfamiliar article of clothing with a sense of contempt.

eerily, satoru is silent. you can't help but attempt to shake off the feeling that something's wrong.

"what's that?" he asks, monotone, his voice is devoid of its typical energy and affection like you're nothing more than a stranger, or perhaps something even worse.

"oh, this?" you look down at yourself and suddenly remember that you were still wearing your co-worker's jacket. "ah right, i forgot a co-worker gave this to me earlier when i was complaining that the ac was too cold." you remark, brushing past him as you move to hang up the jacket on the apartment's coat rack.

you hum absent-mindedly to yourself as you do, thinking to yourself that satoru just probably had a rough day, no thanks to the higher-ups of course, and that was the reason for his strange demeanour today. your back is facing towards him as you pipe up, "remind me tomorrow to return this to him when i head for work."

'him', a bitter taste fills his mouth. there's a heaviness at the bottom of his gut, one that threatens to pull him down with it the more he thinks about it. he soon realises what this feeling is; it's jealousy, an emotion that he thought he was better than, that is gnawing its way into his mind and his vision becomes clouded. he grits his teeth, his jaw tense up.

"right, of course, you're in such a hurry to see him again." he scoffs off-handily to himself. there's a bitter edge to his words and this doesn't go by unnoticed by you.

you turn to face him fully, your lips drawn into a tight line. there's a hidden insinuation lying behind his words, one that you don't necessarily appreciate. "what are you trying to imply here, satoru?"

he decides it would be better to spit it out than to let it fester there on the tip of his tongue. "are you seeing someone else?"

your jaw drops at his accusation. "are you serious? is this really how you see me satoru?" you question, your beautiful face twisting into an expression of deep pain.

a wave of regret instantly washes over him.

satoru doesn't respond and you take his silence as his answer. your throat suddenly feels tight as you choke out, "look, if you're really going to be like this. i-i don't think i can do this anymore." you turn away from him, making your way towards the entrance as you hurriedly scoop up your belongs in a half hazard manner.

you're unsure on whether or not it's sadness or anger that's tugging at your heart right now but what you do know is that there's a sense of betrayal that lingers in the air.

"wait." he pleads, the previous stupid jealousy he might have felt before is long gone by now and all he's left with is the burning pain of regret. if there was an option to undo everything he just said he would take it in a heartbeat.

he reaches out to you and makes a desperate last attempt to stop you from leaving by holding onto your wrist. "please, wait can we talk this out?"

his much larger hand engulfs your wrist and you can't deny how pained his voice sounds and how it tugs at your heart, begging you to stay, but then you remember how fresh the pain was of being accused by someone you thought would be able to trust you wholeheartedly and so, you shrug him off.

"i'm done. goodbye, satoru." you walk out as the door slams closed behind you, leaving him alone to stew in regret.

it's been 10 hours since you left, rightfully so with how he was behaving like an insecure ass to you, and it's been 4 hours of failed attempts to sleep off the ache he feels growing in his chest. he doesn't know why he had acted like that, accusing you of such things completely unwarranted and maybe if he was going to be more purposefully obtuse, he might blame it on the green-eyed monster but even he knows that it would just be a poor deflection of blame.

exhausted from hours of self-inflicted insomnia, he rolls out of bed and stares at the mess of white sheets left in your wake. satoru always slept better when he was with you and now he's just gone and ruined one of the best things he's ever had.

would it be so terrible if he put aside his pride to go begging for your forgiveness for his stupidness? he sure as hell doesn't deserve it right now but he knows that he'll hate himself forever if he never tries. and so, that's how satoru finds himself at your doorstep, soaking wet from the rain and knocking on your door.

against all odds, you answer, though obviously just barely having escaped the clutches of sleep as you rub your eyes tiredly. you're greeted with the sight of him standing at your door and all the conflicting feelings that you tried to bury away previously come crawling back up.

"...what are you doing here, satoru? it's like 2am." you're completely drained and not in the mood for a screaming match if that is what he's here for.

he looks haggard in all senses of the word. his hair is tousled in a sweaty mess from tossing and turning around a bed that feels way too empty with wisps of white hair clinging to his forehead. his clothes are dishevelled in a way which tells you he just threw on the first thing he found in his haste to make it to your apartment and the skin under his eyes is hollowed out as he stares at you with red-rimmed eyes.

gojo satoru looks defeated, to say the least.

"i'm sorry, for everything," he starts off, his chest heaves up and down with shaky breaths. you're not sure if it's him shivering from the rain or just his nerves. "truly deeply sorry." his voice is totally devoid of malice and instead it's more like the satoru you know and love but with a new found rawness and vulnerability to it.

you're not sure what to say, avoiding his gaze as best as you can as you fidget with the sleeves of your hoodie, the one that you stole from him ages ago. he notices that and there's a flutter of hope in his heart, but he pushes on with his apology, choosing to not let himself get carried away with that.

"i'm stupid, okay? i'm a monumental idiot." you laugh slightly at that. he takes that as a good sign and that ball of hope within him grows a little stronger. satoru takes a deep sigh, as if to steady himself before continuing.

"i don't know why i said that and you don't deserve any of those thoughts or accusations okay? hell, i'm pretty sure i don't deserve you with how i've been acting today. you don't need to forgive me or anything but i just want you to know i'm sorry."

"satoru-"

"-and i know that and if you want to punch me or kick me to the curb that's also completely fine. i won't blame you i pro-" he's suddenly cut off by the tug of his t-shirt and the feeling of soft, warm lips, your lips, against his as he falls into an awe-struck silence. your lips part from his and he already feels that he's gone on for too long without them.

you smile at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling slightly and he can feel all of the regret that was eating him alive before melting away, like fallen snow when the spring sun makes its glorious return back to earth. "yes, i forgive you, you massive fool. you're definitely an idiot but you're my idiot."

he takes your hands in his and brings them up to his lips, whispering into them,

"that's right, i'm yours."

you know the phrase 'seeing is believing'? yeah, geto suguru thinks that's probably one of the dumbest phrases he's ever had the pleasure, or displeasure in this case, of hearing. there's a lot of things that you can't see but you can still believe in; an example would be gravity. you don't need to see it to know that it exists and believe in it so why is visual confirmation the default that people go to?

that is until he saw you in the arms of someone else and maybe, in that moment, he realised that the phrase might have more merit to it than he had originally placed on it.

honestly, you were already having an awful day. you had just barely the train to your work by the millisecond so you were left waiting around for 5 minutes before the next train came and much to your chagrin, you were left standing for the entirety of the 20-minute journey and had officially arrived at your workplace late.

to pile on to that, you remembered that you had very conveniently forgotten all of the things you needed to bring in for that very specific day and had to do the whole journey again to avoid incurring the wrath of your boss.

and the cherry on top? it was running into that co-worker that you hated with all your guts and getting their coffee spilt on your very nice white shirt, whether intentionally or unintentionally you'll deal with that issue later.

however, this left you with an embarrassing large stain right front and centre for the rest of the day until the universe decided to grant you a small mercy by having your other co-worker offer you a spare change of clothes which you gratefully accepted. as you did, you could feel the pointed stares of the other members of your workplace burning angry holes through your back which only left you with an unsettling feeling in your gut. albeit, you brushed it off quickly as you couldn't really linger on the issue.

it was always like this when you two interacted in both a friendly and professional capacity. the occasion or even context of the interaction didn't matter to the rest of them when all they saw was the office crush acting nice with you and you reciprocating this niceness to an extent that made them seethe with jealousy over the fact that it wasn't them.

maybe they should learn that they could get his respect by treating him as a person rather than an object to fawn over but again, that was a conversation for another day and they should have known that you only had eyes for one man, in the form of your boyfriend suguru, anyways.

suguru wasn't someone who was super public about his affection for you with grand displays of PDA, but what mattered to you and him was that he showed in ways that were important to both of you and that was enough.

that was why he found himself standing at the door of your workplace, a small bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand, waiting to surprise you and pick you up the moment you were done with your shift. he leans against the cool surface of the cement wall behind him and imagines the delighted look on your face when you see him there. his lips curve into a slight smile at that mental image.

he glances at the watch on his wrist, a present from you from a previous anniversary and one he treasured deeply as evidenced by the fact that there was barely a scratch on its glass shell, and silently counts down the minutes in his head. while lost in his own thoughts, he fails to notice a group of employees passing by him though he does manage to pick up bits and pieces of their fleeting conversation.

"can you believe them? throwing themself all over him like that?" one voice chides.

"i know right? it's like they have no shame at all." another adds bitterly.

"you know, it makes me think that there's something going on between them." and that earns them a chorus of agreement from their little group.

suguru pays them little mind though, believing it to be just simple office gossip that he could care less about unless it was coming from you, then he would be hooked on every single detail you fed him like his life depended on it. he hears footsteps from around the corner and notes an all-too-familiar giggle as the people emerge. it's you and he walks forward a bit more to see if he can spot you.

however, he's greeted with an awful sight. the source of your melodic laughter appears to be the man standing next to you and before you two part, he leans down to give you a hug, one that you seemingly receive with open arms. there's a sinking sensation at the bottom of his stomach when he watches the both of you linger for a second.

when you part, not before thanking your co-worker again for his kindness, you turn around and notice suguru standing a few metres in front of you. "sugu? what are you doing here?" you ask, pleasantly surprised by his sudden appearance and you light up with happiness at the sight of him. you stop in your tracks when you realise he hasn't made a single move to greet you.

the smile on your face drops slightly as your eyebrows furrow in concern for his strange stillness. you take a step closer towards him but he remains still as a statue. there's the sound of crumpled paper as his grip tightens around the bouquet that he's still holding.

you're both silent for a second before he speaks up.

"are you cheating on me?" though his question is straightforward, his tone is unsure.

he doesn't want to believe that you could be doing that but he can't help but draw his own conclusions about what he just saw, especially in light of the comments he overheard which now suddenly make sense if he looks at them from this newfound angle.

a look of betrayal flickers through your eyes at his words. there's an undeniable bitter aftertaste in his mouth that he can't swallow down.

"is that you really think this is?" there's a pained edge to your voice and you can feel an uncomfortable tightness around your throat as you try to fight back the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"suguru, i would never do that! we're just co-workers, don't you believe me?" he doesn't look at you, choosing to actively avoid your gaze instead and you can feel yourself faltering as the grim reality of the situation dawns on you with solemn resignation.

"you know, suguru, i've had a really awful day today and this is not helping at all. i'm done with this. goodbye, suguru." and before he can say anything, you brush past him as you make your way to god knows where. as you walk off, he finally realises that the sinking feeling in his stomach is regret.

after you dissapear into the twisting streets, suguru is overwhelmed with this awful feeling of regret as he realises how rash he was in jumping to a conclusion that had no basis aside from some stupid off-handed comments he overheard and a hug that could very well just be only friendly and nothing more. all he can think about is apologising to you and hopefully finding a way back into your good graces again.

unfortunately for him, you've turned off your phone so he can't even call you to find out where you are but even if it was on, he doubts that you would even pick up and that is definitely deserved on his behalf. he stops and thinks to himself for a moment and decides to take a chance on the first place he can come up with.

thankfully, his gut is right and he finds you sitting on a grassy hill, your grassy hill with him, absent-mindedly plucking up strands of grass before discarding them. there's the sound of grass crunching underneath shoe soles as suguru takes his place next to you.

"what are you doing here, suguru?" you're not looking at him and he can feel a pang of pain in his chest.

"had a feeling you would be here."

you scoff half-heartedly. a shaky breath escapes your lips as you turn to him, your eyes are slightly red-rimmed and there's an unmistakable shimmery glean to your cheeks from your tears. another tug of his heart. "what do you want? because it seemed like you were pretty much done with me at that point."

"i want to apologise." there's a look of surprise on your face as you turn to him and he continues, his voice raw and vulnerable as he continues, "i want to say sorry for taking and not even listening to the most important side of the story, you. so please, and spare no details, tell me what happened today."

you pause for a second as if to consider his words and examine his sincerity, and then you nod and he can feel a sigh of relief leave him. as you relay to him the true details of your day, you notice how his expression becomes more and more apologetic as the facts of the story finally come to light.

he leans against your shoulders and envelops you in his arms. you reciprocate his touch, snaking your own arms around his waist and he sinks his head into the crook of your neck.

"i can't stress how sorry i am." his voice is muffled against your collarbone as you rest your chin upon his head. his hand finds yours and squeezes your hand reassuringly.

"you know you have a lot to make up for right?" he looks up at you, violet eyes gazing into your own, and hums in agreement as he places a soft kiss against your hand.

"anything for you, angel."

nanami kento was a man who believed that it was his duty to silently bear all of the things that came his way, no matter the cost, and this made him someone that many people could always rely on which has earned him a similar reputation in many facets of his life. unfortunately, this benefit did not extend to his relationship.

you knew all this when you got into a relationship with him including his workaholic tendencies and so you were never too disappointed when a dinner for two would turn into a dinner for one.

even if they became more frequent, you would always be able to go to sleep with the knowledge that you would wake up next to a head of blonde hair and a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist as the steady beat of your two hearts in sync filled the relative silence of your shared bedroom.

until, one day, you began to wake up cold and alone, lost within the expanses of the sheets without his arms there to tether you to a world with him by your side. the only shreds of evidence that he was actually there and not just a figment of your touch-starved imagination was the slight indent of the mattress left in his wake and a messily scribbled note which read 'woke up early for work, breakfast is in the fridge.' which felt just as cold and devoid of affection as the room you currently were in.

phone calls became less frequent as well and seeing kento in the flesh was more like trying to find a four-leafed clover in a field full of clovers. explanations were short and choppy and to you, they felt like simply a courtesy on his part rather than genuine truths.

with his presence fading even more and more from the apartment and your life, you couldn't help but start to wonder if there was more behind these excuses and perhaps, he had decided to move on from you and onto someone else. these worries even followed you from your waking hours into your dreams and so you made your mind up to stay up and wait for his return to finally confront him about his behaviour.

now sitting there at your kitchen table, fingers absent-mindedly drumming against the wood surface as you anxiously watch the seconds tick down on the clock and await his arrival. tick tock, tick tock. the sound of the clock echoes off the walls of the apartment.

there's an uncomfortable ball of anxiety gnawing at the insides of your stomach. if the truth didn't kill you, the waiting was definitely going to be the one to put the final nail in your coffin at this point.

much to your relief, or worst fears, there's a jangle of keys coming from outside the door and it soon cracks open to reveal a very tired and worn down kento as he makes his way into the apartment and begins to unload his belongings in the entryway. he's halfway through with removing his suit jacket when he finally notices you sitting there, stone-faced aside from your lips which you nervously bite at, and a worried sigh escapes him.

he makes his way towards you and takes a seat opposite from you. under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen, you're able to get a much better look at him and while his hair is perfectly styled back as usual, there's an air of exhaustion radiating from him as you take note of the darkness of his eyebags and the seemingly permanent grimace that he sports, a far cry from the looks of domestic bliss that you would always be greeted with previously.

"what are you doing up so late, my love? you should be asleep by now or else you'll be tired tomorrow for work." his voice is full of concern for your well-being when it should be the least of his worries at this point with how burnt out he was. you're pretty sure that his cheekbones are more pronounced from the lack of full meals rather than simply his genetics.

a pang of guilt hits you in your gut, of course, he's still so fixated on you taking care of yourself when he clearly is the one who needs the advice even more, but you know that this needs to come out sooner or later. you steel yourself with a shaky breath.

"where have you been?" you ask, uncharacteristically cold. he can tell that there's something off with you but he chooses not to comment or push on it.

"i've been at work, trying to finish something for the higher-ups before tomorrow." his tone is straightforward and blunt and you can't tell if he's giving you a rehearsed answer or a truthful one.

you look down at your hands. "is that really all it is?"

"what do you mean?" his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you're not sure if this is genuine confusion or if he's just playing you for a fool.

you sigh, exhausted. you can feel the corners of your eyes start to burn with tears but you attempt to blink them away to the best of your ability. "i can't take these late nights and weak excuses anymore, kento. if there's someone else, i would rather you just say it."

he doesn't say anything and you grit your teeth as you solemnly accept that as his answer. you quickly stand up from your seat but before you can go anywhere, you're stopped in your tracks by the feeling of his calloused hands on your forearm.

"wait, please, dear-" he pleads softly.

"i'm done, kento." you cut him off before he can say anything else but he strides over to you and places a hand on your shoulder.

"love, please." he implores, his brown eyes full of sincerity as he tries his best to convince you to hear him out. "please, stay and let me explain, just for a minute and that's all." you don't pull away from his touch and he offers you a grateful smile.

"the late nights and overtime are to save some time off for a vacation. a vacation with you." before you could even open your mouth to speak, he silently stops you with a gentle caress to the cheek and manages to render you both speechless and breathless in a single move. "i know you're worried about me overworking myself so i wanted to surprise you and finally make my promises to you come true."

you're instantly hit with a sense of regret as you realise that your overthinking and fear might have cost you something so precious and at the thought of potentially having lost him, you can't help but throw yourself into his open embrace and bury your face into the rumpled fabric of his button up.

a soothing hand finds its way to your back as he attempts to comfort you. he's so good to you and sometimes you wonder if you really deserve it. "i'm sorry, ken. i shouldn't be jumping to conclusions and accusing you of such things." you confess, your voice slightly muffled against his chest. "you've been nothing but kind and loving to me and all i can say is that i'm sorry."

"it's alright, my dear. i should be sorry as well. i shouldn't have been so guarded when you're asking even if it's for a surprise." he adds himself and then there's the fleeting warmth of his lips against your forehead before his arms tighten their grip around you as if to reassure you that he wasn't going anywhere.

"so you're not mad at me, kento?" you ask gingerly, glancing at his face to find a fond expression looking back down at you, not a single bit of anger or annoyance to be detected on any of his features.

"you, dear? i could never be angry at you."

[taesanluv3r]

in my daydreams.

han taesan x reader

yn mentally escapes from her physics class, losing herself in the scenarios in her head (in other words, yn is delusional), follow along her train of thoughts as she crushes hard on her classmate. lowercase intended, cuss words. pls ignore any grammar or spelling errors! enjoyy

wc: 1,448

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"the law of the conservation of energy states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed. that being said..."

i drowned him out after that - my physics teacher, i mean - i drowned it all out. it wasn't my fault though, it was all on him. it was his fault. no, no! not my physics professor...this is all han taesan's fault.

what did he do exactly? well...nothing. the truth is he never does anything! and that's exactly it. he does absolutely nothing and i still find myself constantly stealing glances at him. at his stupid face, his idiotic light brown eyes, his dumb smile, and his perfectly white pearly teeth...and his honey-like voice...his hair that turned a light brown against the sun...his...ugh!

god fucking dammit

as i sit here, in physics class - which, by the way, i absolutely despise physics class - i can't help but be distracted. just look at him! sitting there, right next to the window...i wouldn't be shocked if a bird distracted itself from it's flock and came flying right through it, if i were a bird i know i would. there was a singular pen in his hand, one of those expensive pens with his name engraved on it - probably a gift from his dad, he's always mentioning his dad. anyways, the pen spun against his fingers, his long and lanky fingers...sometimes i can't help but wonder what they'd feel like between my own; would they warm me up? or would it only feel that way because i'd be blinded by the affection? the pen smacked against his knuckles, they're red now from the friction. then the spinning stopped, and i watched as he began jotting words down in his lined notebook - guess there are notes i should be taking.

my chin rested on the palm of my hands and i look away from him for a moment. i sigh, who turned the air conditioner down? why is it always freezing in physics class? as i pondered, my eyes fell shut - lucky for me, i sat at the very back of the room, a spot the professor's poor eyesight can't reach. i felt my shoulder slouch as i relaxed into the uncomfortable chair, in a second i'm gone.

my mind's blank, but only just for a moment before i'm met with images of him again. seriously, i can't even rest for a moment without his face all up in my business? can't he leave my brain alone? please? i'm saying this like i hate it, but truly i don't - i can't. it's hard for me to hate something i really love more than anything. so, instead of trying to rid of his figure in my mind, my unconscious soul walks towards him.

mmm, i can almost taste him. a sweet smell that i can never put my finger on - i mean, it's woody, like a deep foggy forest...but it almost smells like freshly baked cookies from my grandma's kitchen. it's his scent though, that much i can tell you. he glows in my dreams, like edward cullen - minus the whole vampire thing, my fantasies aren't that weird, he just glowed like one. he looks right at me, this is something that truly only happens in my head. his eyes are so soft, yet there's a cat-like charm to them that makes my stomach turn.

"yn"

he calls out to me, his voice the most hypnotic noise. the figure of myself follows him, an arm linked with mine as he traces his other hand against my face. it wasn't real, but it sure felt like it, i could feel the strange sensation of butterflies in my stomach - it felt so real, i could just throw up. and then he leans in, he never kisses me though. he just pauses there, looking me in the eyes like we were in the middle of some sort of a highly prestigious staring contest. to be honest, if he weren't so insanely gorgeous, i'd think him a creep.

"yn!"

he calls out again, though it's a bit loud for the close proximity that we're in. and he sounded strange...he almost sounds like...my...

physics teacher?

fuck.

"huh? present! um-" i could feel the gazes of my classmates piercing through my skin. "yn, would you like to share with the class what you were daydreaming about?" oh, prof...you know damn fucking well i can't do that...

my teacher said something else, he's probably scolding me or saying something utterly ridiculous to embarrass me in front of my friends, i don't know though, it's not like i listened. i couldn't stop myself from wondering, what if i had just told it straight? what if i had answered my professor's stupid question with an even more dimwitted answer? 'what were you daydreaming about?' and i'd just get up from my seat and scream at the top of my lungs

"taesan"

huh...?

the name that escaped my teacher's tongue brings me back to reality, again. i'm paying full attention now. "taesan...you will be paired with...ah, look at that..." c'mon old man, quit stalling. i don't even know why we're making pairs right now, but i need to know what idiot he has to work with so i can turn them into the enemy in my fantasies and- "our very own daydreamer..." wait, did he say daydreamer? that can only mean one thing...i mean, unless someone else has been referred to as a daydreamer before.

"taesan, your pair is yn. i wish you luck"

ignoring the last bit of the sentence, which was an obvious kick at my lack of physics enthusiasm, i was almost overjoyed. fuck, this might be the actual only time i might like doing something related to this class.

i watched as taesan nodded, his lips were pursed together - i wonder if he was upset...i mean if i were as hot as him, i'd be well over pissed if i was paired with me - no offence. but as i was thinking that, he turned around in his seat to look at me - and i mean actually look at me! and as if this wasn't already a dream come true, he smiled at me! does he know how absolutely insane this drives me?! i mean, quick! somebody pinch me! pinch me and tell me it's fake!

i must've been lost in my head again because the next time i opened my eyes i almost died of shock. low and behold, han taesan right in front of me - like, inches away from me.

"don't know if you know, but we're pairs..." i can't believe it he's actually talking to me! my eyes must've gone wide, and my mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. he laughed at me. he laughed at me. you know that kind of stupid laugh a guy does when he just knows he's causing some sort of chemical reaction in my body right now - or as i like to call it, the absolutely shit-eating asshole laugh.

he's so lucky he's hot.

"lucky for you..." he said, turning the chair from the table in front of mine around to sit and face me. "i actually listened in class, so you don't have to - i know, i know, no need to thank me" asshat, but i can't help the feeling of a fluttering flower blooming in the very depths of my body - lower abdomen, to be specific. i still haven't spoken a word to him - i mean, i'd love to, but i just couldn't seem to.

"so the whole point of this project is to explain everything about motion" i know of other things that could be put into motion...what? ew! yn, get your head out of the gutter! i'm sorry, sir isaac newton definitely did not die for this.

"listen, you're cute and all, but can we save the rest of the daydreaming for later? i kind of need to pass this physics class" he's right, i should stop, this is inappropriate and not very cool of me- wait...did he call me cute?!?!?? ME? CUTE?

"you there?" i finally get myself together. "uh- oh! yeah, sorry about that...what're we doing again?" i just know i looked like an absolute fool. and i swear to whatever being that i was trying to stay professional and calm, but when he laughs and when he smiled at me with that stupid dumbass fucking idiot smile of his, i just can't seem to think straight.

i may not know much about physics, but i know one thing for sure. and it's that for as long as i, yn ln, have to work together with him, han taesan...

i'm completely and utterly so fucking cooked.

the end.

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i never really write in this pov but i kinda love this 🫢 hope u guys did too!! yn is so me when i have a crush on someone - it's always like i almost hate them so much because of how much i like them lmao 😭 tysm for reading! love, kona.

perm taglist (lmk if u wanna be added)

@en-dream

[monayen]

Hello! 👋 I love your Luther fics, you write him so well 💖 I have a bit of an odd request for him if you don't mind.

Could you do headcanons of Luther with a S/O who is aroused by his inhuman nature please? Like they're turned on by the fact that he is a cryptid and could potentially be dangerous if he wanted to. Maybe size kink stuff could also factor in? Anyways I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

➷ Paring - Luther Von Ivory x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - slight biting, size kink

a/n - this is an incredibly old ask, i am SO sorry i took forever on this,, im trying my best to do the older asks so if you’ve been waiting pleasedontkillme. anyhoot I LOVE LUTHER!!!!

Luther interests you immediately when you first lay your eyes on him

His big, wide eyes almost look small on his long face. Thin lips drawn into a line as he stares back at you. His brown pageboy haircut sways a bit in the light breeze, and you realize that you’re eyeing a stranger at the park

He notices immediately, walking up to you and making you realize how tall he is. At least 6’1, but you’re sure if he wasn’t hunching ever so slightly, he’d seem bigger

“You’re staring, you must like my new scarf.” He says, his voice smooth. It’s not as deep as you expected, almost monotone

He gestures to his dark green wooly scarf wrapped around his neck, noting the several rings adorning his long fingers. You also notice that the scarf is the only warming item of clothing on his body. Which is weird, considering its late fall in Canada

You nod, trying to break his gaze to not let nervousness overcome you. He’s interesting, and you think maybe he likes you with the round blush below his big, unblinking eyes. Swallowing any anxiety you’re sure he can sense, you hold out your trembling hand

“Would you like to get dinner?”

Time passes, and you realize very quickly just how special Luther really is

His house looms, halls leading into rooms and rooms that seem impossible to keep track of. He introduces you to his younger brother, Randal, who bombards you with questions you can barely register before Luther scolds him for overwhelming you

Very quickly, you say it’s alright– you’re just trying to think of a proper response. You’ll get back to him on who your favorite Joker is, it’s been a while since you’ve seen the movies

Your response to his brother seems to please Luther, liking how you don’t blow him off or get weirded out by his… big personality. His brother does mean a lot to Luther!

Then it’s his catmen, two almost twin like men with cat ears and drawn whiskers. You watch as they follow him, listening to him when he asks them to bring you a cup of water after you mention you’re thirsty

He’s the man of the house, he says. Responsible for all his family. It can be hard, he continues, but he tries his best. He’s only human after all ♡

Human, you think, totally

When Luther talks, you pay attention to the sharpness of his teeth. Mouth large as he bites into a sandwich, and you can only imagine him biting into your shoulder with those jagged teeth, long arms wrapped around you as he pulls you onto his lap—

You fantasize about being completely dwarfed and overpowered by him. The idea of being helpless and at the mercy of his inhuman strength is something that makes you shiver 

You also love the way Luther casually invades your personal space, always standing too close, his presence overwhelming your senses. His proximity makes your heart race, aching to feel his large, cold hands on you 

“What are you thinking, schatz?” He says, and maybe he didn’t mean to slightly open his second set of eyes, but he does… and you notice

Perhaps you should question it, but you’re sure it would be rude to bring it up to Luther. He’s not typical, nothing around him is as human as he thinks it is. For as long as he tells you he’s been around, you’d think he’d have it down by now

But it's okay, you think he’s cute the way he is :)

[corpsekiller]

hi! could i request gintoki x reader where he is being protective of his s/o? it could be any kind of scenario!

𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — 𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐢

PAIRING. gintoki sakata x genderneutral!reader

WARNINGS. fluff, mentions of alcohol and cigarettes

SYNOPSIS. while you're out drinking at a bar with gintoki, a stranger hits on you and gintoki shows a side of him you've rarely seen before.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. my dear anon, i'm so sorry that it took me so long to write this. your request was wonderful and i hope you find this fic in the near future, even if you had to wait so long <3

LENGTH. 2.069 words

MASTERLIST

If anyone asked how you ended up here, you couldn't even explain.

The bar is dimly lit, warm light reflects off bottles of sake lined up behind the wooden counter stained with dust and dirt. The steady murmur of hushed conversations fills the air, the familiar scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke curls around your head as you slump back in your seat and let your eyes wander over the customers lounging at the tables, chatting quietly or laughing hysterically, downing one drink after the other.

Admittedly, it's not the nicest pub you've ever seen, not exactly a place you'd choose on your own considering the number of sleazy men you've already spotted lurking in the shadows of the room, drunkenly flirting with every woman that walks past them and throwing insults after them upon rejection before they throw themselves on a new prey, attempting to get in their pants.

Though sitting next to your best friend makes this rundown bar feel almost cozy if you ignore the shady barkeeper who has been sending you dirty looks ever since you stepped through the front door.

"Y'know, it's weird," Gintoki mutters, nursing his cup filled to the brim with sake and offering you a lazy grin when he finally catches your attention again and you turn around to look at him with a questioning arch to your brow.

His yukata is slightly askew, the white fabric of his sleeve slipping off his shoulder and his hair is disheveled, more than usual, though he doesn't seem to care — judging by the flush of his cheeks and the soft curve of his lips pulled into a drowsy smile, he has already had enough to make him stumble over his own feet on the way back home. "You hang out with me all the time, but you still haven't learned to handle your liquor. Just admit that you're an amateur!"

How ironic.

"Someone has to stay sober enough to drag your sorry ass home, Gin." You roll your eyes at his comment and take a tentative sip of your drink before you shift closer, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you look at him with a mischievous grin. "I don't wanna explain to the kids why you spent the night sleeping on a lonely park bench like a homeless loser. Don't forget you have to be a good role model for them."

"Ah, those damn brats," he groans and shakes his head, lazily twirling his drink as if deep in thought, though you doubt there's much going on in his mind, at least tonight. "They're the reason why I have another set of bills piling up on my desk," he complains, though there's no bite to his words. "Maybe I should sell the damn dog if we keep running shorter on food—"

"Maybe you could get a decent job, ever thought about that?"

"Oi, don't speak to the infamous Yorozuya Gintoki like that, young lady!" He scoffs and leans forward, pointing an accusatory finger at you as if you just spat into his beloved chocolate parfait right before his very eyes. "Did you forget that we repaired your roof the other day, huh? Without us, you'd soon have some creep peek through the hole in your ceiling and watch you sleep!"

"Are you sure you're not talking about yourself peeking into my room?" You smirk, barely able to stifle a laugh when he gasps loudly and clutches his chest in offense.

The banter between you two has always been lighthearted, a steady rhythm of playful teasing and sarcasm that makes the days, no matter how dark, a little better, a little easier to survive. Beneath it all though, the jokes and the insults you both throw around as if you couldn't bear the sound of each other breathing, lies a deep understanding and a certain kind of affection neither of you really dares to name.

Just as you're about to counter another one of Gintoki's jabs, a shadow falls over your table.

"Hey there, pretty thing," a voice drawls, pulling your attention to the source of those words dripping with false friendliness — a man, seemingly already in his late 40s towering over you with a smug grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. His eyes linger on you, wandering over the length of your figure with an almost predatory glint that makes your stomach twist and turn in all the wrong ways. "Why don't ya leave this loser and have a drink with a real man, hm? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Instinctively you lean back, trying to get as much distance as possible between you and the stranger, though it's no use. Before you can utter a response, he moves closer and places a hand on your wrist and grazes over your arm to grab your shoulder. Unease settles in the back of your throat, a heavy feeling that ties your tongue and renders you unable to bite back with a snarky reply that might scare him off.

Just as you're about to pull back, his fingers still hovering above your shoulder, the table shifts and the glasses still filled with sake clatter auspiciously.

Then, Gintoki is suddenly in front of you, his hand wrapped tightly around the man's wrist. His knuckles are turning white from the sheer strength of his tight grip, but you notice a subtle tremor running through his body, his muscles straining and tensing under the thin fabric of his shirt as he slowly twists the stranger's arm into an unnatural position that makes him inhale sharply. Gintoki isn't looking at you, though — his eyes are fixed on the drunken jerk, and for once, there is no trace of his usual lazy grin that you've grown so accustomed to.

No, there was nothing but pure anger etched into the sharp features of his face.

"Oi, didn't your mother ever teach you not to touch things that don't belong to you?" His voice is calm, almost eerily so, but there is an edge to it that makes the air thrum with a certain kind of tension. The room around you grows quiet, so deadly silent that you're certain you could hear a pin drop and yet, you can't seem to turn your head to check if the other people are watching, can't force yourself to let your gaze wander away for even a second.

"What are you doing? Let go of me, you idiot!" The unknown man blinks in surprise, the smirk he wore only a moment ago slowly fading as his drunken bravado wavers before he attempts to jerk his hand free, pulling one, two, three times, but it's no use. Gintoki only huffs out a humorless laugh and slowly leans in closer, the crimson of his eyes glinting dangerously in the dim lighting of the bar.

"You think I'm a joke, huh?" He murmurs, low and alarmingly calm. "Look, dude, I'm the kind of guy who smiles even when I'm ticked off. So if I'm not smiling right now... you've really crossed a line."

There's a moment of silence as Gintoki merely stares at the stranger until he begins to squirm nervously, seemingly contemplating what he should do with him, then he pulls the man forward by his wrists and tilts his head to whisper something into his ear, though you can't make out what he's saying.

Whatever it is, it must be utterly terrifying because only a split second later, the man's eyes widen in pure horror. The color drains from his face and his mouth falls open in wordless shock as he gapes at your best friend, frozen in place, unable to move an inch like a rabbit caught in the jaw of a wolf.

Then, at last, with a rough yank that sends the creep stumbling back into another occupied table, Gintoki lets go of him and turns towards you. In an instant, his expression softens, a comforting reassurance replacing the storm that has been raging in his gaze ever since the stranger had tried to put his hands on you. Slowly, but surely, the tension around you slowly eased despite the steady pounding of your heart and you let out a breath you didn't you'd been holding, forcing your body to relax.

"Hey," Gintoki murmurs as he nudges your shoulder, his tone lighter now, almost gentle if you listen closer. "You okay?"

You swallow, nodding, though your voice still sounds treacherously shaky when you dare to speak up. "Yeah, I’m fine. I just… Thank you."

Somehow, those words feel too small, too meaningless to express what you're truly feeling — because in this very moment, with his hand still lingering protectively on the table between you and the space where the stranger stood, you realize something about your best friend that you never thought about before.

Sure, Gintoki and you have known each other for so long you barely remember your first encounter, and sometimes you'd almost dare to say you know him better than anyone else, always having each other's back, no matter what life threw your way, but tonight, it feels different.

He isn't just standing up for you — he's shielding you as if the idea of someone hurting you is something he can't bear.

"You don’t have to thank me for something like that," he mutters, his gaze dropping to the floor. A faint blush creeps up his neck and flushes his pale cheeks, barely noticeable in the dim lighting of the bar, and his hand shoots up to scratch at the back of his neck, fingers twirling strands of silver hair in an attempt to hide what seems to be embarrassment. "I mean, I was just… doing what I always do. I can’t just sit there when some jerk thinks he can lay a hand on you."

God, you don't think you've ever seen him look so bashful.

"Gintoki," you reply softly, hesitantly reaching out to brush your fingertips over his scared knuckles before you give yourself a push and grab his entire hand, circling his skin with the pad of your thumb in reassuring motions. "Tell me, why do you always look out for me like this?"

He glances at your hand, then back up at you. Something flickers in his eyes and for a moment, a split second, you catch a glimpse of what lies behind his facade of carelessness and boredom, behind the mean jokes and snarky comments, behind the slaps on the back of your head when you've gotten yourself into trouble for nth time that week — adoration, perhaps even love, though you think that word might be too strong.

"Because," he replies softly, his gaze never leaving yours, "even an idiot like me knows a good thing when he’s got it."

Fuck. Your heart stumbles in your chest and warmth begins to pool in the pit of your stomach, crawling up your spine until you feel your face flush, tinting your cheeks in a soft shade of pink as you try to process his sudden display of unexpected affection. Just as you open your mouth to respond, he flashes you that infuriatingly lazy grin and reaches across the table to snatch his drink, lifting his glass with a careless tilt to eye its content.

"So," he announces as if nothing has changed at all, a delicate pinky finger outstretched to cram around his left nostril in search of a booger, "let’s forget about that creep and enjoy the rest of our night, yeah? You’re stuck with me for now, whether you like it or not."

Completely bamboozled by the sudden shift in his demeanor, you can only gape at him. One second he's fierce and protective, showing a side of him you only ever catch in rare, fleeting glimpses, and the next, he's back to being his usual insufferable self, cool and detached as if none of it matters.

But despite the confusion — despite everything — you can’t help the soft smile that tugs at your lips.

"Yeah," you whisper, feeling your chest swell with something almost painfully sweet. "I think I’m okay with that."

And as the night stretches on, with the bar growing quieter around you, it doesn't matter how rough or chaotic the world outside might be, because right here, in this tiny corner of Edo, you know one thing for certain - as long as Gintoki is beside you, you’ll always be safe.

[teenytinyecho]

One is Not Enough, right?

Pairing: F! OC x GN! Reader x M! OC

Warnings: none

A/N: we've got more of our favorite couple together! sorry if there's any errors, english isn't my first language :) i'll be writing a new character for the next few posts so stay tuned!

You slowly walk through the bustling students getting out of the class, wincing a little when a boy bumped into you a bit too hard. You quicken your steps as you tighten your hold on the plastic bag on your hand.

Your class ended early and you used the chance to buy one of the bentos in the cafeteria. It's not that tasty but it's the better food than the other ones. You'd actually die if you ate that three day old pizza.

Opening the side entrance, you quickly jog to one of the empty tables outside that's covered by the trees. Today wasn't that hot and you didn't feel eating inside so you're taking the chance to get some fresh air.

Sitting down with a huff, you placed your bag besides you and open the plastic bag to grab your lunch.

"Oh! Look who we have here."

You glance at your side to see Lana standing besides you with her arms crossed. It's evident she just finished gym class with her outfit, but you're wondering why she didn't change yet.

"Can I sit here?" She sits down before you can even answer, flicking her hair. "Gym class today sucks, ya know? It's so boring that Mr. Smith only lets us play dodgeball while he lays around."

"Why are you telling me this?" You ask while opening the bento, grabbing the chopsticks while ignoring Lana's pout.

"Come on, (y/n)! We're friends, I have the privilege to tell you stuff."

"I thought you did that with Jake," You hum. "Where is he by the way? Thought you had the same gym class."

Lana shrugs, looking at her nails. "He's changing. He's also buying us lunch so don't mind us eating here."

You stare at Lana with a bored stare. "Don't you usually eat inside with your friends? You've been eating with me for the past week."

She shrugs with an innocent smile, sitting more closer until she's touching shoulders with you. "We needed some space from eating with them, Jake's been getting bored with their stories. And we saw you eating alone! So it's a win win situation for us."

"Why is it a win for me anyway?"

Lana slightly slaps your shoulder. "Rude. Our presence enough is already a blessing for you."

You shrug, taking a bite of your lunch as you watch the students slowly filling the outdoor area. You jump in surprise when Lana places her head on your shoulder and groans slightly.

"Where the hell is Jake? I'm hungry."

You hum nonchalantly, eyeing the doors to see if Jake's coming. Not even a few seconds later, here he comes, with his bag slung over his shoulder and a plastic bag. He's already wearing his usual clothes with his varsity jacket, so you assume he has practice today.

"Babe! Took you long enough," Lana screams besides your ear, cooing an apology to you when she noticed your disgruntled expression.

Jake sighs as he sits down. "Sorry, the line was pretty long since they're selling those cheesecakes."

"Excuses, excuses," Lana clicks her tongue as she grabs her lunch from Jake. He smiles at you and grabs a small bag of gummy bears from the plastic bag. "Here, thought you'd like this."

"Uh, thanks?" You grab the gummy bears with a confused look, glancing at Jake after a few seconds. "They sell these at the cafeteria?"

Jake shrugs and opens his own lunch. "It was there and I grabbed it."

Weird. Usually they don't have these gummy bears, only the cheap knock off ones that you avoid.

But he already bought it for you, so you nod in thanks before placing it inside your bag.

Conversation started to flow more between Lana and Jake, them asking you a few questions every now and then. You're content hearing their conversation because sometimes both of them talk a lot.

"Hey, (y/n)," Jake starts. "Two months from now we're going against that school from the North. You up for coming?"

You chewed whatever's left inside your mouth before answering. "Why would I come?"

Lana huffs. "Uh, hello? Moral support? School spirit?"

"I mean, I can come," You shrug, thinking if that can make into the schools newspaper. "That way I don't need to interview you after."

"Cool," Jake smiles, showing his dimples. You felt his leg brushed against you, but you stayed quiet. They've been acting weird around you...but not enough in your book to be stamped as 'weird'.

"Yay!" Lana cheers, throwing her arms around you. "You can come with us, like in Jake's car! We're not going with the bus, obviously."

"...You can do that?"

"Sure can," Jake answers, throwing away the paper wrap from his burrito. "We've been doing it for a few months. Plus, the coach knows I've never been late."

You think about it for a while. Jake has a really nice car, you've rode it once and it was magical. Better than your car, sadly.

"I mean, I'm cool with it," You say. "But there's gonna be a plus one from the club to take photos."

Jake raises his eyebrow while Lana groans. "Can't you do it, (y/n)?"

You roll your eyes, not in annoyance to Lana but for yourself. You don't have a camera with a high resolution, another member has it and you don't have the guts to actually borrow his camera since it costs so much money.

"Nah, I don't have the right camera. And I can't just borrow—"

"You can borrow mine."

"...What?" You eye Jake.

"Borrow mine," He smiles and shrugs. "It's a gift from my uncle, I've never used it after a few months."

"Oh, that camera," Lana hums, moving away but keeping her hand on your hip. "It's kinda new, right?"

Jake nods, opening his phone to show you the camera.

Damn. That really was a new version of the brand you liked. It literally came out a few months ago.

"Jake, I can't do that. I don't even know how to use it."

"I'll teach you," Jake answers easily. "Come to my house on Friday with Lana and I can teach you."

"Ooh, what a great idea," Lana hums before looking at you. "You're free, right? I have no practice and Jake only has his weekly meet up with his teams."

"Um," You think about this weeks schedule. Your mom canceled the trip to the mall since she needed to work overnight, so you're basically alone in the house. "Don't think I have anything. Sure, I can come."

"Good bunny," Lana smirks, patting your hip before moving away to grab her lunch. You frown at the nickname, but Lana's already talking to Jake about the plans for Friday. You slowly move back to eating your lunch, the nickname disappearing from your head as the three of you talk.

The bell rings. A few students already halfway inside as a few stayed behind to clean up. Jake moves to grab your trash and Lana's before standing up. Lana's texting on her phone before she stands up too, pinching your cheek as she smiles.

"I need to change out of this ugly gym clothes. Be a dear and walk with Jake, yeah?"

You nod. Both of you have math together, so sometimes you walk with Jake when he has the chance.

Jake walks back to the table, grabs his bag and kisses Lana on the lips. "See you later. I'll drive you home, yeah?"

"Okay, babe," Lana smiles and kisses him again before walking backwards. "Bye, (y/n)! Kisses!"

You wave back at Lana before grabbing your bag. You walk besides Jake, his arm grabbing your shoulder. You always wonder why Lana's not disturbed by Jake's physical touch with you.

For all you know, Lana's always bitchy towards anyone who touches Jake the wrong way in her mind. So you're really confused.

"Hey, Jake?"

"Hm?"

"Is Lana okay with you touching me like this?" You glance at his arm around your shoulder before back at him.

He snorts and smiles, playing with your hair as both of you walk through the corridor. "She's fine. Can't say she's ever mad at me or you, right?"

"Well...no," You lamely finished. It never really bothered you that much but sometimes the idea pops in your head.

"Don't worry, angel—We trust each other, plus we like the same things," He shrugs. "So usually we compromise."

"Same things?" You ask with a confused look.

Jake laughs, steering you towards the empty seats in the back of the class. "Yeah, we found this...thing that Lana liked first before I got into it. So we're currently trying to get it. Wish us luck, yeah?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure," You answer, sitting down next to him as the class slowly filled with students. You're curious as to what Jake's talking about but you slowly forgot about it. Maybe in the future they could show you what they're getting.

[strongheartneteyam]

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader

Chapter 3

CW: angst, reader is a loner, reader works her ass off every day at the lab, fluff, neteyam being cute towards reader (even tho it still has weird vibes lol), mad jealous neteyam, TRIGGER WARNING for depression symptoms (such as being moody n having less appetite than the usual), stalking, obsessive and toxic behavior, also TRIGGER WARNING for reader mentioning the word “suicidal” in an internal monologue (she IS NOT actually suicidal, she just feels really sad and mentions the word. if u read it, you'll know what I mean)

Not proofread. I'll do it as soon as I can ♡ I hope it's a good chapter 🥲 & thank u to everyone who's reading this fanfic, who left a comment in the last chapter and, of course, to everyone who asked to be in the taglist I LOVE Y'ALL 😘💕💕💕

Chapter 2

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Mother looking at me

Tell me, what do you see?

Yes, I've lost my mind

(...)

Will I ever be free?

Have I crossed the line?

All the things she said, running through my head

All the things she said (t.A.T.u)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You woke up feeling like crap that morning.

Your last shift had been so demanding. You had to cook just so much food that you started to wonder if there was anything left in the pantry. You had gone into that room just so many times yesterday to get ingredients and kitchen utensils, your legs felt heavy and sore now, as you stretched them in your small bed.

There were just too many people to eat in that damn laboratory.

Meanwhile you, the cook, barely had any time left to eat. There was always just so much work to do. So many dishes to wash, so many vegetables and meat to cut, bread to prepare from scratch... Your head hurt just thinking about it.

You felt so stressed out that you preferred to unwind a little instead of eating, sometimes. You would find a quiet place, sit somewhere, put your headphones on and press play on one of your many curated playlists or in one of your favorite songs. Listening to music seemed to work like a medicine to your wounds and, going to the cafeteria and having to socialize, to have people all around you felt too much, so, you just tried to avoid it. You even started to lose a little weight because of it. Nothing too much, though. You were only slightly thinner than you used to be. But in the back of your head, there was always a voice saying "Please, take better care of yourself...". Despite knowing that voice was right, you were too tired and apathetic to care.

Ever since you started to Dreamwalk, it was like your whole world had changed. That old life you led did not seem to be enough anymore. It never was, in the first place. It could never compare to the heightened senses you had when you were in your Avatar, helping you smell and hear everything better.

The first time you spent a whole afternoon running alone through the Pandoran forest next to Hell's Gate, you felt alive like you had not felt in years.

But nothing gold can ever stay. Way sooner than you expected, you had to be awakened from that magical dream. Everytime you came out of the technological machine you had to lay inside of to be able to drive your Avatar, you thought "Damn! Why wasn't I born a na'vi? They're so freaking lucky to have such an incredibly beautiful Planet to call their own. If only Earth was still as beautiful as it used to be..."

When you were not in one of your free days, you would always work until you felt exhausted and fed up with everything. It was not a walk in the park to be a cook. Even though you loved cooking since you were a teenager, when you used to always mix different ingredients and spices and create new recipes, this profession forced you to spend most of your time standing up and to have little time to sit and rest your poor fatigued legs. In some days, all you wanted was to sleep for 12 hours straight. And God knows you were capable of actually doing that.

Not a long time ago, you slept so much that, when you eventually woke up, it was 2 pm and you almost got fired from the lab when you finally showed up at the kitchen you were supposed to be in since 6 am.

You promised yourself you would never do that again. You just could not afford to lose that job. And you wanted to cry just thinking about not being able to Dreamwalk anymore. Exploring Pandora was the peak of your life, currently. It was when you felt high as a kite. As funny as it sounded, it was true. You felt euphoria run through your body everytime you got to have blue skin and be over 8 feet tall.

You liked to cook and was good at it, but, you were a smart, intelligent girl who knew much more than people thought you did. Unfortunately, you could not manage to get a higher position at the lab. Your forte was not sciencey stuff. It was subjects like Human History, Languages, Philosophy... At best, you got to use your language learning skills to learn basic na'vi fast and was able to get an Avatar from the lab. At least that was a good thing that your tiring job provided you. God knows that privilege was one of the few things keeping you alive. You goddamn hated you life, your job, everything... All your days seemed to be the same. Same chores, same annoying people... Most scientists did not try to hide that they did not see you as an equal. Even though they were always really polite to you, they would not let you in in their little groups, in their upbeat conversations through the laboratory corridors. You could count in one hand how many of them used to talk to you with genuine interest in hearing what you had to say.

You sat every day next to the less valued lab employees: janitors, cleaning ladies, other cooks just like you and so on. Your race had never been good at realizing the worth that these hardworking people had, anyway. Why would they do it now? You thought it to be so sad...

Those employees were nice regular people. Even thought some of them were idiots and treated you badly, there are people who behave like that anywhere. You were thankful that most of them were polite to you and treated you well enough. You also had a close friendship with one of the female employees, a cute, humble and really kind girl called Crystal. But she was your only actual friend. You did not remember the last time you had made an actual effort to make a friend, to be nice to someone in hopes you could get to know them better and they could become a part of your life. You had to admit you had been really grumpy lately.

You could easily blame such moodiness on your lack of will to keep living that life you currently had. It’s not that you were suicidal, it's just that you wished you could live a better life.

There was also Derek, the tall, cute boy you would make out with every now and then. You did not have a proper name for your relationship with him. He was always lovely towards you and you two would have really interesting conversations together and sneak around to kiss each other and do other types of heated stuff (though you never had sex with him) anytime you both felt like it. But it did not happen that often, anyway. You did not put much thought into it, to be honest. Derek was just a friend you would fool around with. You could not be farther from being in love with him or anything of sorts.

After another tiresome day, you walked fast towards your room. All you could think about was how nice and cozy your bed would feel when you would lay your body on it. Only five minutes after you finally laid down, you fell asleep. Slumber had been bugging you all day. Lately, it had always been like that.

They say you have to be careful what you wish for. That your words and thoughts have power over what happens to you. And you learned it the hard way.

In one of your infamous busy but boring afternoons, something unexpected happened to you.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a na'vi young man appeared outside of your glass window and tapped slightly on it. You almost choked on your own saliva when you saw that huge, blue creature staring at you with wide yellow eyes. A scream got stuck right in the middle of your throat, since you got so startled you could not get your vocal chords to obey the command your brain was sending them. What the hell was that na'vi doing in front of the laboratory? They did not use to come to Hell's Gate. And why was he looking at you through the kitchen window?

The na'vi boy just would not stop staring at you. His gaze was so intense it made you feel unbelievably uncomfortable. Suddenly, he pointed to the left. The big, ample door that led to the open area in front of the room you worked in was right at the same direction his four fingered hand was pointing to. You realized he was signaling to you that he wanted to see you outside of the lab.

You started to say, in your own mind: "What kind of weird situation is this?"

"Please?" You heard the alien plead in fluent English (he only had a typical na'vi accent), his voice coming through the narrow gap that existed between the glass and the window frame. His eyes reminded you of the eyes of a small kitten asking for food.

You got surprised by the fact that he was able to speak English. You wondered why he had learned it and who taught him the language.

You tried to reach for the door to try and inform someone that there was a na'vi around and ask if anybody knew who he was when you heard the alien say:

"Don't go, please! I just want to talk to you! I'm not gonna hurt you."

Your back was turned to him. When you turned around, he was smiling.

"It's incredible how you're even prettier up close."

"I'm sorry?!" You answered

"Oh, forgive me. My name is Neteyam. Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan. It's really nice to meet you." He was still smiling.

That name was familiar, Neteyam te Suli... Oh, of course! Neteyam was the son of the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya clan, Jake Sully. He was very famous between the na'vi and the humans.

Neteyam Suli was one of the most feared na'vi warriors out there. A great archer and very skilled with the knives the Omatikayas made themselves, he fought fearlessly against the recoms, including Colonel Miles Quaritch, an old enemy of his father. Quaritch used to lead the RDA soldiers when he was human, before being "revived" and given an Avatar body. He died in battle against the na'vi. But that did not mean that there was finally peace between humans and the na'vi race.

But why in hell was Neteyam Suli trying to talk to you? It is not like the na'vi liked the humans. On the contrary, they despised your race.

"Uhmm... okay. Nice to meet you..." You tried to be polite and peaceful towards the na'vi boy, like you were advised to be by your teachers, back when you were studying and training to get your Avatar "But I'm sorry, what did you say? That I'm prettier up close?" Your brows were furrowing, your face full of confusion. Despite all, you were calmer now that you knew you could communicate with him in English. Your na'vi was not the best out there.

"Yes." Neteyam's big amber eyes shone when he looked at your face. You were beyond dazed. "I've seen you before. Many times actually. But only from far away. It doesn't compare to seeing you right next to me." His voice had a weird warm feeling in it, like he was already acquainted to you. But how could it be? You did not even know who he was before he revealed his identity to you.

"When did you see me...?" Your mouth was slightly opened, so bewildered you felt

"Don't you wanna come outside so we can talk better?" He said, seeming excited.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm good, thanks." Neteyam looked sad after you declined his offer.

"Why not? I told you, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise." He smiled faintly. You could tell he was hurt by your blunt answer.

It pained you to act like that towards him. You admired the na'vi so much. Damn, you even would choose to be born a na'vi if you somehow could go back in time, before you were inside your mother's womb and you could talk to Eywa herself. But how were you gonna trust him? There were some na'vi out there, his mother, for example, that hated humans with such a boiling passion. What if he took after his mother? You would be in trouble if he tried to kill you. Even though the na'vi were a peaceful by nature race, everyone has a limit, so, you had to be careful when interacting with them. You learned about all the genocide your kind had committed against his kind while simultaneously destroying his Planet slowly, in a cruel, despicable way. You honestly understood the contempt the na'vi felt when it came to humans.

You looked at Neteyam with honesty in your eyes and said:

"Please don't take this the wrong way but I can't really trust you. I know you told me you're not gonna hurt me, but, I'm still human. How can I know you trust me, to begin with?"

"I trust you because you're different. You're nothing like the others from your kind. You're more like my people. And I love that about you." Neteyam said, smiling at you.

"Can you please just tell me how do you know me? Because I've never seen you before. I've only heard about you because you're the Olo'eyktan's eldest son and Olo'eyktan to be. But you talk to me like you somehow... know me. I'm really confused, Neteyam." He felt his heart race when he heard you pronounce his name. Your voice sounded so sweet to his sensitive na'vi ears, making him move them somewhat to the sides. It was the same voice he heard in the forest, when he watched you talk to yourself saying how beautiful you thought some yellow, bioluminescent flower that you saw in the grass was.

"You're a Dreamwalker. I've seen you around. I love how much you seem to appreciate and respect my Planet instead of destroying it like the others from your kind do. That's why I think you're more na'vi than human." He chuckled happily and you got confused by his last sentence.

You had to admit he looked cute when his fangs escaped from under his upper lip whenever he smiled or chuckled. But you felt so weird thinking that.

"I'm more na'vi than human?" You were intrigued "What do you mean?" You laughed a bit and he continued on staring at you in an intense manner.

Neteyam heard footsteps approaching, so, he started to move just so he could hide. He did not want any other human but you seeing him. He knew he could not trust them as he could trust you.

"Wait! Where are you -" before you could finish your words, he was already gone.

The brown wooden door behind you opened and Derek appeared carrying a pile of plates in his arms.

"Hey, cutie." He walked towards the sink, leaving the dirty dishes there to be washed by himself when he would be back in the kitchen.

"Hi, Derek." You smiled faintly. You were still recovering from that odd interaction you had with Neteyam Sully.

Derek came close to your ear and whispered:

"Feel like meeting me tonight? I miss you." You sighed

"I don't know... I'm not really in the mood, sorry." You answered, uninterested

He got a little surprised by your answer and moved his eyebrows up, making wrinkles appear in his forehead but quickly remembered he had much work to do outside, so, he walked towards the door and got out of the room without saying another word to you.

Neteyam was still out there, next to the window, leaning against the wall. He was listening to the conversation the whole time. He had to use all the self control he learned to have with the years to not hiss when he heard that human call you "cutie" and ask if you wanted to meet him tonight. Who was he, anyway? And why was he saying he missed you? Neteyam had never seen you show any sign that he was your mate before. He had to find out what was going on. Neteyam would not let anyone get between the both of you. It would not be a weak human male that would be the obstacle that would make him give up on his future mate. He was used to challenges and was not afraid of another one. That would probably even be fun. Neteyam could imagine that tiny mate of yours shivering in fear when he showed him his big, sharp fangs.

Neteyam decided he was gonna find out who the hell that mate of yours was. He was sure he was not better than him. That human male would never be as strong as he was. That human would never be able to hunt fresh food for you, walking through the forests of Pandora and confronting big, dangerous animals, like Neteyam would. He knew he outbraved that human. He could never be a good mate to you like Neteyam could be. You deserved better than him.

༊⁀➷

Taglist:

@xylianasblog @samistars @crazy4books1 @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @explosiongamora @lik0 @your-girl-mj @darktyrantwinner @xxunnie @sereisstuff @yeosxxx @die4niyahhh @henhouse-horrors @lala-1516 @iman-lu @manumanulau @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @hana-yuri

I tagged some of you that did not ask to be tagged but left really cute comments on the last chapter that made my heart feel warm 💓 if u don't wanna be tagged, just lemme know

Also, if someone wants to be added to the taglist too just leave a comment below saying that 🤍

[hollowtones]

first yiik impressions?

Hi. Thanks for your message. I've been thinking about this for days. I wrote paragraphs. Here you go!

Everyone talks up how the game is bad, but I've never looked into it much myself, so I went in with an expectation along the lines of "people whose opinions I often agree with think it was an awful mess, I'll likely think something similar". Expectations were low. Even then I wasn't really ready.

"YIIK" is a game of tedium. I don't think it's a game about tedium, that's something different (though it could be, if it was a different video game altogether; "what if the world was made of pudding" etc). To some degree I think the tedium is by design but I'm not really sure what it's in service of.

I don't think tedium in a video game is a bad thing. "Morrowind" and "Breath of the Wild" are two video games I like very much, and some of my favourite memories of those games are of slowly wandering through empty expanses, or having to suddenly deal with equipment degrading or supplies dwindling because I forgot to prepare. Moments like that feel thoughtful! They're interesting moments of reprieve or of tension that feel thoughtfully and intentionally designed! "YIIK" feels like trudging through chest-deep molasses so it can shout "hey did you know you're stuck in my molasses right now? that's weird, why are you stuck in my molasses right now? did you notice?" directly into your ear.

You'll notice this is a pattern.

Combat is turn-based and involves completing little minigames, timing button prompts or hitting targets or some such. It's a cute idea that wears out its welcome when you start realizing how long every single one takes to resolve, especially when you have multiple party members, and sometimes multiple enemies (I'm told this part specifically gets more egregious as the game goes on). I don't think it's awful or unsalvageable but I'm not super into it as of the point we're at.

This is a pattern.

Leveling up is a manual process that you have to unlock, and it involves going to a save point (any save point? we didn't check), to enter the Mind Dungeon, to enter the actual Mind Dungeon, to walk down a set of stairs and enter individual doors one-by-one, so that you can choose how you want to allocate stat increases, so that you can walk down a different set of stairs to commit your choices and spend your banked experience to level up. I think "you can only power up at specific points / times / locations" and the granularity of stat growth are interesting ideas, and the environment they made for it are a charming idea, and I don't think it needed to be a "Hotel Mario" level that you had to slowly walk through. It could have been a menu. They could have used the resources for a nice background or backdrop for a menu that accomplishes the same thing.

This is a pattern.

I haven't really mentioned anything about the story or writing yet. The protagonist's name is Alex and he's a very self-important nerdy misanthropic dickhead white man (a very specific kind of guy that I've definitely met at least once or twice) who is obsessed with a paranormal message board populated by people like him and desperate to find out more about the disappearance of a woman he witnessed. (The woman & her disappearance are based on the real life death of Elisa Lam & aren't handled with a whole lot of tact, IMO, but other people have put this into better words than I can right now. It sucks. It keeps coming up and it makes me bristle every time.) Alex is a bad person. I know he is. You know he is. The game knows he is. I've seen some reviews say a negative point of the game is "the main characters aren't likeable", which I don't really get, because that's the point of the characters, as far as I can tell. The issue, then, is how much time the game takes to exposit at you how bad the characters are. It's exhausting. Every time Alex has a monologue, it feels like it sums up to 10 minutes of "I am a bad person. I am a bad person. Alex is a bad person. This character is a bad person. Do you get it? He's a bad person. Alex is a bad person. Do you understand yet, player? Alex is a bad person. You should know that he's a bad person. Do you get it?"

This is a pattern.

(I don't know how interested I am in bringing up the game's lead writer right now, if at all, but there's a well-known anecdote where he talks about wanting to write a story about a bad person who is forced to grapple with himself and do better, and how the reason why his game wasn't well-received was because people who play video games didn't get it & weren't ready for a story like that. I dunno. I can understand being upset about negative reception to something you poured time and sweat into, and saying something hasty because of it. "Final Fantasy 4" is a beloved RPG classic, though, and "Disco Elysium" came out the same year to overwhelming praise. I haven't played either of these yet, though, so I'll admit maybe I'm off the mark here.)

The characters we've met so far (i.e. the ones that aren't unnamed NPCs) are… well. There's a smarmy younger kid who idolizes(?) Alex & also made the aforementioned paranormal website. So far it seems like he mostly exists to go "hey fuck you Alex, you dickhead" and immediately say something even more insensitive. There's the insensitive based-on-a-real=ass-dead-woman elevator woman, who immediately disappeared from the narrative while still being an essential part of the narrative. There was a dead(?) robot in a bedroom, who had a choir of ominous hooded people monologue about how weird and sad and strange and uncanny the scene is. What the!? There's a woman who works at the arcade and has Powers. Her design's cute. (I feel like, generally, the game's visuals are Fine. The audio, too. That all ranges from Just Fine to Surprisingly Neat. I don't really have much issue with those aspects of the game, but I don't have much to say about them either.) Alex and Kid Whose Name I Didn't Care To Remember are constantly very uncomfortable to her, because she's a woman and because she isn't white, in the 15 or so minutes we've seen her on-screen, and she gets to tell them off, but then immediately kind of goes "well whatever I can smile and put up with this and hang out with you". It feels misogynistic. I know to some degree Alex is misogynistic on purpose, because the game is bludgeoning your skull in and yelling "ALEX IS SHITTY TO WOMEN! AND PEOPLE OF COLOUR! DO YOU GET IT? HE'S SELF ABSORBED IN A SHITTY WAY! DO YOU GET IT, PLAYER? YOU UNDERSTAND THAT ALEX SUCKS ASS YET? MAYBE 10 MORE MINUTES OF THIS WILL MAKE IT CLICK?" But for a woman of colour (the only one we've seen so far who isn't Probably Just Dead) to finally tell him off for being a shithead, only to turn around and go "well it's ok, you're cool now, let's hang out now because it's narratively convenient and you're the protagonist" is pretty damn egregious!

This is a pattern.

Writing in general feels stilted and long-winded. Most of the main characters feel like they don't talk like people do. Alex gets to feel like a person but that's mostly because he gets to talk to himself so damn much. Most of his monologues feel like overly flowery prose, like someone padded it out with identical adjectives to meet a school essay word count. There's an interesting idea or premise or setpiece every now and then. There's a spark. A glint of something compelling. Every single time this has happened so far I find it immediately snuffed out by an over-blown "oh my god!!!!!!! how weird!!!!!!', or a very long plot dump, or a Joss Whedon-ass quip. There can be no small moment of joy. No story element or visual element can stand on its own legs. There can be no room for ideas to breathe. No space for the player to wonder, to dream, to play in the space. The narrative is compelled to suffocate iself on itself, to take up all space, to swallow itself whole in its making. One very minor (so far?) side character has some interesting dialogue in this one dream world, and I think "oh that's neat", and then I learn they're lines taken wholesale from a book (and I think that's fine, reference is fine, but I have a bit of a chuckle over the fact that this character is the reason why the game has a giant REFERENCES option in the main menu). The literal first minute of the game is a bird telling you "oh my god, the title of this game, right? why'd they spell it like that? so fucking dumb, am I right!" It feels insecure. It reads like the writing has no confidence in itself. It has to make a comment about how silly and video-gamey it is, roll its eyes at itself, mock itself for the thing it's doing while continuing to do it without addressing it or discussing it or doing anything with it.

This is a pattern.

There's a specific part of "YIIK", at this early point in the game (we're only around the start[?] of chapter 2), that feels emblematic of the thing as a whole up to this point. Alex is getting phone calls from a stranger. They're confusing and weird and sound a little like something you might hear in a dream. They make references to some shared past, some childhood, some understanding of Alex, or maybe of you, the player. They've come up a few times. Every single time, I'm left thinking about what it could mean, how it fits in with everything we've seen so far & what the game seems to be talking about, with regards to connecting to other people and to yourself. It's a neat little thing. It's a neat idea. I'm charmed by it. As much as my thoughts on this game are largely negative, I still try to look at it fairly, to understand it, to talk about it, to let myself be surprised by it. As soon as I find myself thinking about this, my thoughts are immediately drowned out by Alex telling me how weird the phone call is, how random and uncanny and dumb this is, and how he's rolling his proverbial eyes about it, in spite of all the other paranormal happenings around him, for another period of Just Too Long. And I am sapped of all strength and I crumble to dust.

I'm genuinely transfixed. I'm transfixed! Maybe the fact that I wrote Paragraphs about the 4-or-5 hours I've seen of the game can tell you as much, even if you skip everything I wrote in them.

I can't wait to see more.

This, too, is a pattern.