#i myself find it a fun concept

[epickiya722]

Honestly, the whole agency sharing thing feels just as fanon to me as Todoroki being a conspiracy theorist.

Like, maybe my memory is shot, but I don't remember it being explicit that Bakugou and Midoriya sharing an agency, let me be specific here. Sharing an agency.

Being heroes like their idol, All Might? Being heroes together? Yes, that was clear to me.

But the agency part feels like a fanon thing.

Yes, agencies are part of the deal being a Pro Hero, but I don't think it was ever something Bakugou or Midoriya ever considered given they were tiny kids with dreams to be Heroes. That and agencies were like a big deal for like, what, 10% of the manga?

I said it, but this epilogue just felt like fanon fantasy to me. Something that was cooked up more to cater to the fanon things than the actual story. You cannot tell me that many of those "BakuDeku Agency" posts, fics and art wasn't seen that had someone working on the manga with Horikoshi, or heck even him, go "we should totally bring in this thing that the fandom seems to really like, but we also can't give them too much now".

To me, and yes I said this, solo Hero Deku appeals to me a bit better.

The thing is out of the two, Bakugou did seem to be the one to want to have an agency. He always felt more like the "by the book" one compared to Midoriya who is more rebellious.

It just makes sense to me that Midoriya wouldn't choose to be at an agency if he can still do hero work.

Also, considering he still wants to be a teacher, that would mean he would constantly be going back between one place to another. Being more of an "agency-free" hero means he has more room to move as he chooses.

And him still being a teacher also makes sense, it does. Midoriya would want to keep the career that allows him to inspire children to pursue their dreams. And guess who were part of Midoriya's journey into becoming a teacher, other than his friends and mother?

His teachers! All Might, his mentor and predecessor was even a teacher!

I'm rambling here, nothing new, but I don't know.

Now, the agency thing could have fit better for me had this been something they actually discussed and not just as "Midoriya is an employee there" but "hey, want to share an agency with me".

[ghost-proofbaby]

It's summer for you, winter for me. Warm me up with strawberry fluff! As always, my muse, your muse, the one and only, Eddie.

Midsummer's night, because I don't have a lot to inspire you with. I'm thinking something cute but weird? Maybe some human body softness where Eddie is a bit of a freak and we love him for it. And we're told our bodies are lovely, even when they're doing weird shit.

I lalalove youuuuu. xo Rhi

RHI!!!! <3 i adore you. thank you for this prompt - i had far too many ideas for it, but ended up on settling for this one, which coincidentally feels like the most subtle of them all? either way, it definitely turned out being the softest. give me an eddie munson who just wants to sniff me like a dog. this definitely got a bit long but i hope you enjoy, my dear <3

the smell of you

warnings: weirdos in love? idk. i have a skewed sense of what is actually weird i think. mentions of death and coffins jokingly. eddie 'manhandles' reader sort of. not edited.

wc: 2.2k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

“Eddie?”

The entire apartment is quiet – too quiet – as you drop your keys into the old crystal bowl on the counter. The clink resonates through the air, louder than the soft murmur of the stereo static you can hear from down the hall. 

“You dead?” you call out again, slipping off your running shoes and tossing down your headphones onto the counter as well now, “Do I need to call the coroner?” 

Your tone is lilted, teasing with airiness as you continue to wander deeper into the apartment and head straight for the room you know Eddie has to be in. Like the waves pulled by the moon, there’s an incessant string tied around one end of your soul that connects you to his, and you follow it all the way down the hallway. The bedroom door is wide open, and you can hear his mumbled yell of a response without clarity before you even cross the threshold. 

You wouldn’t have even needed him to verbally respond to find him in this tiny apartment. You two could get separated on the streets of a bustling city, of a buzzing New York sidewalk, and you still wouldn’t properly lose him. It’s more than just soul ties and his gravity that keeps you pulled to him. 

Something unspoken. Something homely. 

“Sorry, what was that?” you hum as you spy him face-down in the bed, pillow muting him by the mouthful, “Say it one more time, and this time not into the pillow.” 

When he finally properly turns over, he’s a vision. Sleep lines folded into his skin and a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth, eyes squinting in irritation not at you but the sunlight flooding in through the bedroom window. Messy hair, messy shirt, messy everything. A kind of mess you just want to collapse into currently, curling up in all that he is from the day’s exhaustion. 

He’d mentioned wanting to take a nap before you’d left for the gym. Something about the summer heat draining him, trailing off as he’d rambled about how he’d probably thrive as a vampire. 

“I said,” he huffs, sitting up, the frizz of his hair becoming a makeshift halo, “If you call the coroner, request the comfiest coffin possible.”

“Why do you need a comfy coffin if you’re already dead?” 

“You dare deny me of being buried in tempurpedic memory foam? In my hour of need?” 

You roll your eyes as you huff out a little laugh, forcing yourself to turn away from him long enough to strip out of your socks. But just as you reach down for the pieces of clothing, you catch sight of the source of that stereo static flooding the room. 

Your shared record player, spinning a blood red pressing of one of your more recent vinyl purchases. The album has been played through, but the player no longer had an automatic stop mechanism, probably from years of use. 

The center of the record is probably scratched, and Eddie knows it, from how sheepish he looks when you glance over your shoulder at him. 

“Speaking of death,” you walk over quickly, purposefully, before carefully lifting the needle and cutting the static finally, “Care to explain why you’re burning scratches into my Momento Mori vinyl?” 

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologizes, nearly flinging himself off the bed as he scooches quickly to the end, clearly fully awake now, “I put it on and thought I’d just lay down for a quick second, but then the bed was so comfy, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick nap, and then…” he trails off, looking up at you through his lashes with big eyes already pleading for forgiveness, “I’ll buy you a new one. Swear it.” 

It’s impossible to be mad at him when he’s looking like this, inhumanely soft and easily forgiven, “You’re lucky you’re cute, or you really would be dead.” 

He doesn’t respond with words, but instead the outstretch of his hands, fingers flexing as he beckons to you. The needle rests on its perch, the vinyl left behind to gather dust for a few extra moments, as you go straight to him. 

When his palms slip beneath your old t-shirt and meet your skin, they’re pleasantly warm. 

“You were right,” you admit as his knees spread, delegating even more room for you to stand in front of him as your hand wanders to cradle the side of his face, fingers tangling in sweaty curls from his rest. Your thumb mimics his on your own skin instinctively, tracing a large arch right up over his cheekbone, “It’s hot as balls outside.” 

“Told you so,” he murmurs, smiling softly in satisfaction as he leans lazily into your touch. 

“You did,” you agree quietly, half-entranced by his relaxed face, no sight of pride in the room currently. 

He resembles a cat as he continues to preen under your gentle hand, and you almost expect him to start purring right before you find the strength to pull away, removing his hands from where they'd wandered to your lower back. 

One swipe of his finger along your sweaty spine, and you’d remembered what your original intentions had been immediately upon getting home. 

“Wai- Where are you going?” he’s seemingly brought back down to Earth the moment he loses the pattern your thumb had been tracing, the press of your fingertips into his scalp. When he reaches back out to latch onto you again, you take a step back, “Get back here-”

“I need to shower,” you laugh, shaking your head and smacking his hands away as he continues to barter, “I’m all sweaty and smelly, let me go clean up and then we can nap togeth-” 

“You can shower after we nap,” he nearly whines, finally catching your shirt between his fingers and tugging, uncaring for if he stretches the fabric. A small price to pay to have you close to him, “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you’re just as exhausted as I am.” 

You swear you meant to take another step backwards, but somehow, you end up back between his knees, “Did you not hear me, Munson? I stink.”

“Good.” 

He doesn’t give you any time to react – in an instant, he’s throwing his face forward, burying it against your stomach as you let out a gasp and immediately try to pry him away with far too gentle of hands in his hair. 

“Eddie!”

If it were anyone else, you’d probably be mortified. But Eddie just takes a dramatic deep breath in, nose buried just shy of your belly button, and when his shoulders start to shake with muted laughter, you can’t stop the smile from breaking. Your fingers are still twisted in his hair, still pulling back in an attempt to get him away from you, but he’s resilient. 

And all your faux resistance is weak in comparison. Soon enough, you’re back to melting into him. 

Only once you’re relaxed once more, no sign of trying to pull away again any time soon as his hands once more evade the space beneath your shirt to wander up and down your sticky skin without a care in the world, does he lift his face away from you long enough to breathe and speak, “I’ll have you know – I love your stink.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“I’m your idiot.” 

The game of banter is cut short when he goes back to pressing his nose into your clothes that surely can’t smell good. No amount of deodorant or perfume could erase that underlying stench of sweat. Hell, the shirt is still a bit moist from it all: from the walk to the gym, from your workout itself, from the walk home. It’d been through the ringer, and you’re back to tugging him away from you. 

“I refuse to believe you like how gross I smell right now,” you reinforce, eyes darting towards the bathroom connected to your master bedroom, “I promise I’ll be quick with the shower.” 

“Baby,” he fights back, wrapping his arms around you securely, no intention of losing this battle, “You remember that time we went to the fair, and you were complaining about how you were sweating, so I tried to lick your face?” 

Your nose scrunches quickly at the memory, “I do, unfortunately.”

“You really think I’d be willing to lick the sweat off your body but be afraid of you smelling a little bad while we cuddle?” his shoulders drop as he looks up at you, head tilted, almost as if amused with the conversation, “What kind of man do you take me for?” 

“The kind that gets off on annoying me.” 

His jaw drops, putting on a fake look of offense before he dramatically throws himself back onto the bed, laying flat as he makes a fist to mimic stabbing his chest, “You wound me.”

You’ve heard those words a thousand times in a hundred different ridiculous voices. You’ve seen this scene enough to have it mesmerized at this point, down to the over-exaggerated pout of his lips and the lingering of the fist against his sternum. 

You never grow tired of it. You never will. 

“Need me to kiss it better?” you joke as you prop a knee up on the bed, following the same script as always. 

And he hits his queue perfectly when he lifts his head eagerly at the expected response, wiggling his brows a bit. “Absolutely. Doctor’s orders, in fact.” 

“Great,” you see an opportunity, and take it, “I’ll get right to it, after my showe-” 

You don’t even get the final syllable of the word off your tongue before he’s clenching his thighs around your own, knees pressing hard before he wraps his legs the rest of the way around your waist to pull you in. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as you begin to fall forward, but Eddie is quick to break the fall with ease. Catching you with his eager hands, maneuvering for you to half drop to the mattress while some of you still lands atop of him. 

He has you right where he wants you, turning his head to be face to face with you, noses nearly brushing, “Unfortunately, the doc said you have to kiss it better now, or else you’ll be comfy coffin shopping.” 

“A fatal wound?” you gasp, nearly mocking him. It doesn’t offend him – if anything, his boyish grin only grows wider, “First, I’m smelly-”

“Again, I like when you’re smelly.”

“-And then I inflict a fatal wound upon my lover? Oh, how dare I.”

Slowly, all your insecurity of how you currently smell is simply fading. The entire ordeal has become an art of childlike, whimsical jokes – and Eddie is an artist. A professional at the dance, locked and loaded with his incomparable skill set equipped for disarming you this way. The ability to make someone feel loved, imperfections and weirdness aside. 

He likes you, even when you claim you don’t smell your best. And you like him, even when his hair is tangled beyond recognition and one of his socks is half-hanging off his foot from a nap.

You like him when he’s embarrassing you in public, tongue chasing after you with the threat of licking your sweat away, and he likes you when all you can do in response is a weak palm to his chest (that isn’t even making an effort to push him away) as you giggle relentlessly. 

You like each other on the good days, the bad days, the weird days. 

Disarmed entirely, you don’t even notice when his face conveniently slots itself far too close to your armpit as you two scooch further up into the bed. You’re more occupied with the way your legs tangle up, toeing each other’s socks off properly as he slings a heavy arm across your torso. 

“We’re gonna have to wash the sheets,” you mumble, exhaustion catching up as the two of you finally settle. 

He hums absentmindedly, nuzzling into your skin a bit further as he makes himself comfortable. “And wash away your sweet, sweet stink? I don’t think so, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh, unbothered as your fingers start to trail up and down his back over the t-shirt, smoothing out wrinkles along the way, “I’m serious. We need to change them soon anyways, I think I got crumbs in the bed the other night with those crackers.” 

“Bury me in the crumbs of all your midnight snacks,” he almost slurs, clearly drifting back off. 

You snort in response, relaxing and letting your own eyes shut. Matching all your deep breaths with his own, a million different last words crossing your mind to whisper to the boy you’re sure is once again asleep. 

I love you.

I adore you. 

I would like to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me. 

And maybe some of those unspoken thoughts slip out without you realizing, because he squeezes you just a little bit tighter, presses his face just a little bit deeper into your skin as his scruff tickles you. 

The only actual thought you can know for certain that you say, though, is, “Do you think they actually make coffins with memory foam inside?” 

To your surprise, even despite the almost-snores that had been escaping him, he answers in a heartbeat. 

“Oh, definitely. We’ll order two.”

[dandelionjack]

i hope ruby gets a well-that’s-alright-then-style notdeath. on the one hand it will make haters mad because oh no not another companion with an impermanent end (and i like to see haters mad) on the other it would require creativity to depict this in a new way + i love all the implications i love the dark fairytale quality of these companion exits i love my un-undead schrodinger’s women

with the way the legend of ruby sunday is titled… legends aren’t usually told about living people. legends are stories of the bygone past, of an age long since over, fictionalised and overgrown with folklore like barnacles sticking to an abandoned shell. there is such a thing as a living legend, but they’re exceedingly rare. the unmistakeable raven’s call in the 73 yards teaser, the trailer’s cut to fifteen crying alone after promising to cherry he’d protect her daughter… the foreshadowing is clear as day…

and yet. there’s one massive HOWEVER. ruby appears in s15: millie’s been spotted on set filming it. which leads me to believe — the doctor isn’t one to take the time travel route and revisit companions that in his future are genuinely dead. that would hurt too much, it would cause unnecessary trauma and could break the timeline. that must mean ruby stays alive in some way. ish. she’s alive and a legend and a mystery. girl-ballad girl-song girl-paradox

here she is, fading out.

p.s.: thesis statement on moffatgirls from the tags i left on somebody else’s post about charley pollard.. well it belongs here since it’s basically the semiotic hurricane swirling around ruby at the moment :)

[i-have-41-protons]

My very own super self-indulgent AU! ✨ It’s called… Drumroll…

✨GRAVITY FURS✨

Where everyone is an anthropomorphic furry :3

Explanation for the au below the cut!

Basically everything is the same, except everybody — even Bill! — is a furry. Obviously I had to make Bill a cat — they act in all the very same ways: demanding attention, leaving for unknown reasons, scratching at lab doors, and overall being just petty little gremlins. He is incredibly floofy, and has retractable claws (which I am aware is not at all original, but I love that headcanon and it goes SO well in here). “Fiddlesticks” and “Stanfur” is a joke btw, they actually have their original names.

So, everyone is a furry little animal, living exactly the same in their own little furry universe, right? WRONG.

Our, canon Bill Cipher dies, and invokes the Axolotl… but instead of going to Theraprism, he gets another chance at life. Such is the Frilly deity — forgiving, with many, many chances to spare for every being. So, Bill Cipher is sent back to Earth, in a different form, at a different time… but it is not the right Earth. Not the Earth he’s used to, anyways — but rather, the fluffy universe. The Furry Falls, if you will.

The “different form” being exceptionally un-triangular, which he is obviously enraged by. What’s more, is that his new flesh-sack is also… fluffy. With whiskers, and cute little ears (which he does NOT consider cute in any way), and paw beans… WHAT THE FUCK AM I, screams Bill as he wakes up.

An even worse shock is the creature that finds him (alone, naked, in the woods — yk, the classics). It is strangely resembling of both a human and a dog, and most of all, of Sixer. But this can’t really be Sixer, can it? Nope, it can!!! Surprise, surprise, Billy. You now have to deal with all THAT! >:D

Furry!Bill is sent into Canon!Bill’s place. Either the Axolotl didn’t care, or they thought he also needed a change of scenery — I don’t know, and neither do the Bills. But the fact remains, that now, in place of the recently defeated dream demon, there is the very same dream demon… but now, corporeal, fluffy, incredibly confused, and horrified at everybody being so fleshy… and way cuter than the original Bill. Of course, shenanigans ensue — Mabel might even like his new appearance, when she gets back to Gravity Falls.

As Bill searches for answers and SOME sort of understanding of what happened, he reaches out to anyone he can get to (that being anyone who stayed in Gravity Falls — so, not Stan or Ford or Dipper or Mabel, but, I suppose, Soos and Melody and Wendy and all the other members of the zodiac). I think, he will do quite well with Soos and Melody! Anyways, I haven’t thought into it that far, just yet.

In the Furry Falls, however, Ford and Bill search for answers together. It is your classical “return to Gravity Falls in a human form” type of story, except no it’s not, because it’s happening in the 80s and Ford now has to explain Bill to Fiddleford — somehow. Billfiddlesford ensues……….

Anyways that’s about it for now! That’s my AU, and it’s gonna be tagged #gravityfursAU :3

[puppyeared]

if escape rooms as team building exercises became popular im not sure if id be more excited or terrified

[catboygirljoker]

was planning on spending all day today on day 6 and then i literally did not sleep at all last night . and spent all of my drawing time today just, fiddling with the proportions on the sketch i have

[onlyoneofsideblogtrashheep]

AUGUST Receiptify!

Thanks for the tag @toxicrevolver <3

Look I have been listening to Miracle on repeat every time I go late night grocery shopping and its adding up. That said I felt like Deja Vu would be higher.

Jaehyun's new album is surprisingly fun? I've been listening to it way more than I expected to.

I am very surprised to see Under the Rose. I love that song but I almost always listen to the whole Elder album at once so idk why its only Under the Rose. I am also surprised there's no Ateez but I guess I listen to their stuff more evenly rather than the same song on repeat.

No pressure tagging: @spkyxmulders @hyuck-xix @freshlybakedgarlic @27vampyresinhermind or whoever wants to and needs an excuse

[singsweetmelodies]

Shipping real people is so gross TF get a life

sending anon hate is so gross TF get a life

[elisedonut]

i keep trying to throw Colin into another Percy ship for a polyship but everything ive written so far just keeps feeling

very age play

very "little now has two caretakers" vibes

which is not intentional for this so I keep having to try again

[arolesbianism]

I am rotating Light so hard in my head rn girlies who just straight up fucking torture ppl cause she can

[biracy]

This is a thesis I've had for a while but after years of observation I really can confirm that the main difference between straight women and bi women is that straight women peg their boyfriends as like a "feminist takedown of his Male Ego #peg the patriarchy" and bi women peg our boyfriends because we like hole

[waywardsalt]

my grievances with botw

Breath of the Wild is... undeniably a fantastic game, but it is very genuinely not the kind of game I like, and since I started playing it I’ve been enjoying it less and less so... I have a pair of problems with it that I’d figure I’d go into, as well as some stuff that, while weak in botw, were executed better in past loz games.

(small shoutout to @zeldanamikaze for encouraging this and having some points that i agree with and had some examples that i hadn’t thought about much initially)

Again, Breath of the Wild is an objectively impressive game, and I’m not trying to sit here and convince you that it’s a bad game. I’m just trying to point out things that detracted from my enjoyment of it, especially compared to my enjoyment of other Zelda games.

Before I get into the big stuff, I’ll just shoot off some quick little things that I think could’ve been improved:

- The dungeons generally felt like glorified shrines, and while they had cool mechanics and ways to access them, they were short and more or less pretty simple and all have similar visual and musical identities.

- Side quests and their rewards didn’t feel worth doing half of the time. I barely remember any notable ones off the top of my head and the longer ones just gave mostly generic rewards, which I suppose makes sense considering the limited amount of truly unique items in botw.

- Seeing the same enemies over and over again made the combat feel more like a chore than something to really engage with, not to mention that there is hardly any difficulty scaling beyond just making the enemies more durable.

- The story is fine, but in my experience, even seeing people go into more detail about the meanings of events, I never really cared for the events or the characters presented, since you don’t actually have to directly interact with any of that to play the game. Hell, you don’t even need to interact with the story at all to beat it, so the focus certainly doesn’t feel like it’s on the story.

- It would be a lie to call the soundtrack bad, but it’s sparse usage makes it hard to truly appreciate and the fact that most of it is meant to be more atmospheric generally makes them a bit less interesting to listen to on their own, though I will admit there are some fantastic tracks in botw, usually being some of the boss themes.

- While the Sheikah slate runes are cool, they feel very bland after a while, especially compared to the varied items seen in previous games. They’re good tools for an open world, but not much fun otherwise (the bombs were good though, since they had a variety of uses).

And that’s the quick stuff- again, mostly courtesy of @zeldanamikaze, since these are the examples I’ve seen her mention.

I have two big points that kind of encapsulate why I dislike this game and still adore the older games, that being: the minigames and the items and their relationships to dungeons.

Breath of the Wild is a very different game than what came past it, and I am very aware that it is a vast departure from those other games for a reason. However, this leads me to view it not only simply as a game not up my alley, but also as kind of inferior in some aspect to those previous Zelda games. Breath of the World is first and foremost an open world game, seemingly putting a focus on gameplay enjoyment above all else (not to imply that the ‘else’ is bad because of this, but I do think that the ‘else’ suffers in comparison to other Zelda titles.)

It may also be worth mentioning that the other Zelda games I have played is the following: LoZ NES, Link’s Awakening (Original and Remake), Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask, Phantom Hourlgass, Skyward Sword, A Link Between Worlds, and Triforce Heroes. I have also played both hyrule warriors games as well as loz 2, wind waker, and minish cap, none of the latter 3 i have finished or currently have access to.

1: The Minigames

Minigames are common in Zelda games, so of course botw has a few scattered around it’s world. Botw’s minigames are very different than the minigames seen in past Zelda games, mostly due in part to the limited array of items and unique gameplay gimmicks available in botw. Botw’s minigames usually focus on different forms of archery, gliding, or rune usage: all things integral to normal gameplay. At best you get rupees or cosmetic items from most minigames.

Botw’s minigames are just slightly altered situations of normal gameplay. The bowling is just using stasis except this time the game has a special little arena for it. Pretty much all of the archery games are either just counting how many deer you can kill or if you can just hit some targets on horseback. There’s one race I can think of and one gliding activity I can think of.

This makes sense, considering that there are a handful of other non-minigame activities to engage in, but these minigames feel... hollow. None of the minigames feature gameplay exclusive to those minigames or feature gameplay only used in certain parts of the game. They all make use of readily available mechanics in botw, so they’re like tests of skill- but otherwise not really any worth giving a second-thought unless you want to see how good of a glider or archer you are or grab some extra rupees.

But they aren’t very... worth it or generally fun within the context of botw. It’s just another way to do something that is available to you pretty much all game. They don’t feel unique, they just feel like a task.

Previous Zelda games (obviously) have archery minigames and allow you to use archery when you get the bow and from that point onward. And yet the archery minigames are made unique from the rest of the archery in the game; ocarina of time’s archery minigame is simply just shooting at targets, but the possible rewards and the simple fact that not often are you going to be continuously shooting arrows at enemies make it a bit of a novel experience within oot. The minigames in past zelda games take advantage of the items and area-specific mechanics: they usually include item-exclusive mechanics like bombchu games, or take advantage of more specific mechanics, like the minecarts in skyward sword, the masks in majora’s mask, or being able to control gongoron in phantom hourglass.

They also gave genuine rewards- empty bottles, quest items, ship parts, new masks, heart containers or pieces, kinds of stuff that are hard to get and very valuable. They’re worth doing for reasons outside of just a little activity. The minigames in other Zelda games do really enhance the experience by taking advantage of situational mechanics or giving a unique usage for some items.

You can probably get every item in botw without playing all of the minigames. They have little actual purpose. But in other zelda games, they have a purpose in the greater game and provide novel experiences within the game.

2: Items and their relationships with the dungeons

Obviously, compared to past games, botw’s ‘dungeons’ kind of sucked. They’re fine in a vacuum, with interesting gimmicks and the like, but they’re really little more than glorified shrines with four different-but-similar bosses at the end.

In my opinion, one of reasons why the divine beasts just... fell flat compared to other zelda dungeons is the lack of unique items in general. The runes in botw are cool and useful but you get them at the start of the game and never get anything new. You are give every tool you need to beat all of the dungeons the moment you finish the tutorial.

Older zelda games’ dungeons being tied to their respective items is a big part- to me- of what makes those dungeons so good.

Obviously, the theming, musical themes, and larger layouts and more varied puzzles make them objectively better experiences, but the way they interact with item acquisition makes the whole thing even better. 

Even in a link between worlds, where you can get every item whenever you want from Ravio, each dungeon is still tied to one of those items, and one of those items is needed to successfully complete that dungeon.

The dungeons in past Zelda games are practically complex tutorials on how you can use your new items. They are where those items shine and they are designed so that those items are used to their fullest potential within. And then you must then use that item to defeat that dungeon’s boss, and you usually have no chance of beating that boss if you don’t make use of the dungeon’s associated item. It’s like a final test for the item, seeing if you know how it works enough to complete the dungeon and use it against a boss’s weaknesses.

The most recent example, and probably one of the best, is needing to use the whip to tear off koloktos’ arms in the ancient cistern, but the classic scenario of the bombs for king dodongo works well enough, and the bosses of majora’s mask requiring you to understand how the transformation masks work. There are definitely some bosses that require no use of dungeon items (moldorm in the tower of hera, either ghirahim fights), but the item’s usage is still showcased prominently in their dungeons.

Outside of the dungeons, too, the progressive acquisition of items makes more areas and secrets available to you, giving a much more palpable sense of progression through those games’ worlds.

In botw, you get every tool the moment you are released into the rest of hyrule, so while figuring out what to do with those tools can be fun, the sense of progression is dampened by having every item from the start and nothing you gain beyond that being needed for anything aside from a nice little ability to make things easier.

I’m not really too sure exactly why I never found botw fun the way everyone else does, but I think lackluster minigames and the general lack of items that aid a sense of progression are parts of it.

[monster-noises]

I came on here to make a different post initially and I may still make that post in the tags but now the main body of this post is gunna be about how weird it is that of all the things I have come on here to Repeatedly Gripe about like some big sad lump I am regularly embarrassed and ashamed to write posts about me wanting a relationship and the troubles my mind has about it? Like it's not Less personal than me writing about any other issue I am dealing with but somehow it Feels Different and I keep shying away from it and it's really backing things up in the ol' noggin, which isn't Great

[certified-character-concepts]

Thinking again about an idea I had for an adventurer who retired after being blinded by grevious wound, but found a calling in helping others and became a local, pacifist paladin. He'd travel between towns healing the sick and injured or helping out farmers without the coin for hired hands.

In his travels he bonded with many an uprooted soul. One of these was a woman ostracized for some crime or social context about which he wished not to prod, who he got the sense she had few visitors. He stopped by whenever he was in the area, asking after her and about the many half-finished statues near her abode. She seemed hesitant and mumbled about sculpting to pass the time. He marveled at her skill and how lifelike they felt, but she seemed anxious over the discussion so he let it drop. The next few times went better, and she warmed up to him soon after. Over the years, he came to love hearing her soft words, and even more how confident and majestic her voice grew when he could cajole her into singing for him.

Eventually, he gets dragged into the sojourn of the party against his better judgement and begins to relearn the trade. In downtime when learning of each other, he speaks of his beautiful wife, who sings like a sparrow and practices her artwork in the woods.

One day he receives a letter or sending from her asking for help, as someone attacked her and citizens of the nearby village have since been searching the woods to find her. He of course urges the party in that direction as fast as possible.

When they arrive an hour ahead of a mob wielding torches and pitchforks, he finally rushes to embrace his wife while the party halts in shock at the sight of a medusa.

Cue party confusion and mistrust while the character recovers from his surprise enough to have a serious conversation about respecting her desire to keep this secret but needing know if she did something to deserve this, cut short by the angry mob arriving. Chaos ensues.

[sysig]

Seán McCoin, Leprechaun-in-training (Patreon)

Bonus, do you recognize the bunny?

It’s Hayden!

[chromaticroses]

i know most people don’t have the greatest media literacy in the world and i’m generally more critical than most but i do genuinely have very very low standards for “enjoying myself” when watching something regardless of quality. so it’s kind of baffling how many people are acting like the new sc\ott pilgrim is the greatest thing since sliced bread when regardless of any critiques i have of it i just. didn’t even really enjoy my time all that much.