#i was so tired and i fucked the buttons up whilst i was adding links and it was not great xD

[sinfulforrest]

a new home fic is gonna drop later tonight >:3c

to those that saw it at like 2am this morning when i accidentally posted it, no you didn't 🫵🫵🫵

[gatecoeur]

Reasons Behind Arrie’s Martial Arts Styles, Part 2...ish

Oh yeah, that’s right, I’m back on my martial arts bs.

As I keep emphasizing, there’s a specific reason I chose each martial arts style that Arelette knows. This is kind of a TL;DR of that. KIND OF. It’s gonna dive more into the individual characteristics of each style tho, rather than connecting them to Arelette’s life story. If you wanna read into that, here’s the link for it. 

The link kind of does touch some of the things I’m gonna talk about, so if you’ve read it already, expect some repetition. Tbh I just wanted to write it all out in detail in case people wanted to know more. And because I love talking about this shit.

Tai Chi

On the surface level, it’s pretty obvious that Tai Chi is pretty damn ideal for anyone dealing with chronic pain; it’s slow, meditative, and keeps the person moving. However, it also teaches something that I think (at least in my experience) other marital arts styles kind of gloss over; breathing technique. You think it’d be such a simple thing to do, but you honestly have no idea how much energy you can lose just by not having control over your breathing. 

Also, if you read the backstory, you’ll know that I added in this nice lil moment where Arelette is shown that Tai Chi is just as valid as any other martial arts style. This is a PIVOTAL moment in Arelette’s life, because she realizes that after what she’s been through so far, that she WANTS to learn self defence, and later on, that she wants to defend others who can’t do so themselves. It really is that starting point for her passion in martial arts.

Kyokushin Karate

I realize that this one was an interesting choice. A martial arts style that focuses on full-contact sparring? Why in the hell would I chose that for a kid in chronic pain? Well, first of all, I really wanted a style that got Arelette acquainted with the pain of actual fighting.

Secondly, if you think you’re gonna be sparring immediately after you start a new martial arts style, you’re dead wrong. I can’t speak for all Shifus and Senseis obviously, but in my experience, if you’re not doing a self defence class, you need AT LEAST 1 year to learn the basic forms (if you’re having lessons once or twice a week, anyways) before you can move onto sparring, and even then, sparring begins in a VERY controlled structure before you start to see more and more of the all-out improvised stuff that you typically see in television and movies. By the time Arelette would’ve been full-out sparring, her chronic pain obviously decreased to the point where she could handle being in such an environment.

So yeah, don’t @ me

Wing Chun

I think after Tai Chi, my choice in Wing Chun should be very obvious, and not just because of the anti-high kick rant I went on.

Wing Chun was SPECIFICALLY designed as a self-defence martial arts style. The goal in Wing Chun essentially is to incapacitate your enemy as quickly as possible and fucking run. It’s part of the reason why it’s actually fairly easy to learn the basics of Wing Chun; a few sources even cite Shifus saying that someone can have all the basics down to a T within 6 months with just weekly training if they practice outside of class, which trust me, is EXTREMELY fast.

Also, you gotta consider that the average human cannot engage in combat for more than 15 consecutive minutes, and for every minute that you’re in a fight, you’re getting more and more tired, so time is of the essence in a self-defence situation.

Xiang Xing Quan 

The Eagle Claw and Tiger Claw styles I chose because both target the joints, specifically to lock them. This is EXTREMELY useful in a fight because it basically hinders an opponent’s ability to fight, and thus helps end the fight quicker, which again, is definitely a goal of a vigilante should have when they’re outnumbered. 

As I also mentioned before, both styles a very claw-friendly, since as you can imagine, it is not ideal to use fists when you have razor sharp claws at the ends of your finger tips

As for the Snake Style Wushu, it focuses on striking human weak points like the eyes, joints, and various pressure points of the body. Again, extremely useful in a fight as it weakens your opponent. Additionally, it’s fairly common to train with a sword or a spear once you’re proficient enough in the style. This is where Arrie got the majority of her weapons training. She personally prefers polearms due to their reach, but again, she can wield a sword if she has to.

Boxing

I kind of explained this one already, in a way. Because boxing and kickboxing are so prevalent, I thought it would be advantageous for Arrie to learn boxing, if only to understand how a lot of her enemies are likely to attack her.

Additionally, she got to fully understand and witness in person why boxers will often target each other’s livers. She knew it was a weak point before, but she didn’t target it nearly as much as a typical boxer. She still doesn’t, if she’s not up against someone she’s willing to kill, because a well-placed punch to the liver can cause it to rupture, and the person on the receiving end of that could die if they don’t seek medical attention immediately. 

Also, getting hit in the liver is the human equivalent of hitting a restart button, I swear

Pencak Silat

Silat’s kind of one that’s only recently come up on my radar admittedly, but the sheer speed and power of some of the variants of silat is what drew me into thinking that it’d be worthwhile for Arrie to learn. Silat is an umbrella of fighting styles that originated in Southeast Asia, so considering that Arrie spent a significant amount of time in that region, it’s not unreasonable for her to have come across it, especially during her time in Madripoor. 

I have it headcanoned that Madripoor has its own style of silat due to the fact that it “historically” was a pirate nation, meaning that a lot of cultures would’ve definitely mixed and mingled there, including martial arts cultures. Arrie would’ve likely encountered it whilst fighting off the local bounty hunters, as well as watching and/or participating in the underground fighting rings (because surely those exist in Madripoor of all places)

Also, a lot of silat styles notably have a focus on elbow strikes, which for those who don’t know, are easily the most effective and painful attacks you can use in a fight, since not only is your elbow incredibly strong, but it’s even sharp enough to break skin.

Silat also does use some grapples and offers weapon training, so Arrie would’ve expanded on both of those notably weaker points of her own fighting style whilst learning Madripoorian silat. 

Jeet Kune Do

Jeet Kune Do kind of falls into the same reason of choice as Wing Chun. Its goal is to help fighters end a fight as quickly as possible by making their strikes powerful whilst also conserving as much energy as possible. Bruce Lee literally designed the style for realistic combat, so it really shouldn’t be a surprise that Arrie has dedicated herself to learning it rn.

Also, I wasn’t kidding when I said Jeet Kune Do was mathematical by principle. Kyle Hill on the Because Science YouTube show does a fantastic job explaining the physics behind the one-inch punch, which I highly recommend you watch if that kinda thing interests you. 

[almasy-fics]

Retail Hell

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh Chapter: 1/? Rating: M (Subject to change) Warnings: Swearing, perving and aged up characters Pairing: Seto Kaiba/OFC Summary: Seto Kaiba has no choice but to shop for himself when his personal stylist ends up sick and ends up in a store named Dapper Gentleman Boutique. He's got the hots for the sales assistant.

Notes: A purely self indulgent piece of crap with added storyline!

AO3 Link Ko-Fi Link

Seto Kaiba had a personal stylist for a reason.

And this was it.

He had no idea what the hell he was looking at in this so called ‘Dapper Gentleman Boutique’, all the designer apparel was absolutely foreign to him. He knew the brand names of course, he wasn’t some sort of loser who just walked in off the streets, damn it, he was the richest CEO in all of Japan. Money was a mere object when it came to his clothing choices, he just would much prefer someone else to do the hard work for him.

How dare his stylist come down with pneumonia, stupid human immune systems.

It most certainly didn’t help that Mokuba was hot on his heels commenting on each and every item of clothing he saw…

“Look Seto, this Armani is bright green!”

“Look Seto, this Tom Ford has a hidden pocket for hip flasks!”

“Look Seto, I found a suit with pineapple print!”

“Look Seto, this one from a brand called Antons has people fucking on it.”

Wait what?

Huh, so it does.

He couldn’t find himself to scold Mokuba for swearing, when such a profanity was right in front of them clamoring all over the shirt in various positions. And oh would you look at that, they had both variations of same sex coitus on other shirts in this section, how inclusive.

“I think we’re in the wrong section Seto…”

To be honest, he was too concerned with attempting to shield Mokuba’s poor virgin eyes from the obscenely vulgar images before them to notice that a sales assistant had approached them, the aforementioned woman having to ask twice if they needed any assistance.

Seto appraised her before responding, eyeing her petite form before them. She was an obvious foreigner with her pale white skin, the waist high black pencil skirt accentuated her curves perfectly, noticing the way she stood tall in the black high heels she wore. Her ample breast size was accentuated by the deep purple long sleeved shirt she wore that was tucked into her skirt and she had the first three buttons undone to show a tasteful amount of cleavage. Several piercings were in her visible right ear and on her right nostril, glimmering in the natural light of the store. She adjusted her equally deep purple locks that were pinned to her left side whilst eyeing the brothers with apprehensive curiosity with her emerald green eyes behind wired spectacles. There was no doubt she knew who they were, he could just see it in the way she looked at them.

If he wasn’t so epically pissed off with his stylist right now, maybe he would have responded to this bombshell more politely.

“I’m fine.” He grunted, glowering down to her. Even with her high heels, she only came up to his chest, those extra five inches to her height not adding much. If she took those off and went down on her knees, maybe she could- No. Stop Seto! Down boy, bad! Do NOT sexualise the woman. Those shirts in front of them be damned, set them all alight. Burn the witch!

She raised an eyebrow.

“We need suits, please. Big brother’s stylist is sick so we don’t know what we need to get.” Responded Mokuba. Oh sweet little brother, always knowing when to take charge.

“Oh?” If she raised her eyebrow any higher he could have sworn she would have acquired a microphone out of nowhere and quote a certain superstar word for word.

But no one needs to know that he knows what the WWE is, and people definitely don’t need to know that he knows The Rock’s most popular catchphrase is ‘Do you smell what The Rock is cookin’?’

“Is there an occasion or is this business?” She asked. He had to give the woman credit, she was acting quite professional considering who exactly she was dealing with. Maybe he should throw her a bone to see how she reacts.

“My twenty-first.” He deadpanned. There, that was a good enough answer.

“And I am supposing we are wanting to steer clear from our exotic collection?” Their collective gazes made their way to the shirts they eyeballing before. Yes, definitely yes. The great Seto Kaiba would never been seen dead in one of those ludicrous things, even if the longer he looked at it, the absurd hilarity of the pattern did make the corners of his mouth shift slightly in amusement.

He just wouldn’t admit it.

“Yes please.” Answered Mokuba for him as he was inner monologuing yet again. He seemed to do that a lot in this store. Just another thing to blame his stupid sick stylist for.

Her plump red lips curved upwards, motioning behind her, “If you would just follow me, I will show you some more appropriate attire. Though to be honest, I do quite love our Antons collection. The store is based in Melbourne and we have an exclusive deal with them. We are the only place in Japan that stocks their products. It’s all so exciting!” She seemed to be happy with the product selection of this so called Antons. It made him wonder what other ridiculous designs the company owned.

Wait. An Australian boutique being a stockist to a Japanese boutique? How completely… odd.

As if she picked up on Seto’s confusion, she began speaking again.

“What? Did you think we were all about Drop Bears, riding Kangaroos to school and Tim Tams?” She stopped in another section of the store and turned back to the men. They were most definitely in a much more suitable part of the stores. No bizarre colours or overly sexual prints anywhere to be seen. “I’m kidding by the way, not about the Tim Tams though. They are amazing.”

“You’re Australian?” Asked Mokuba. Stop getting personal with the staff member, kid. We just need the damn suits!

“Born and raised.” She responded proudly, “Well, except for the past two years where I have been here, of course. Anyway… Do you have a brand preference? Colour preference?”

“Uh…”

“My stylist is the one who makes those decisions.” He deadpanned, earning a mirrored look from the salesperson. Yes, he was one of those customers, deal with it.

“The ones on TV?” Oh so now she was going to acknowledge that she knows who they are.

“Yes.”

“Sorry, but we don’t do shoulder pads for days here. It’s either look like an Aussie hipster, or look like you’re about to walk down the red carpet to a billion dollar budget movie premiere.” She looked the brothers up and down appraisingly before seemingly making up her mind. “You know what, have a look around here, pick what you think your stylist would pick out for you and try them on.”

“I’m not being paid to do your job.” Seto quipped with an impatient venom, yet she still held her professionalism, pushing her spectacles up the bridge of her nose with a single finger. Her eyes held his for a moment before she spoke.

“I am just trying to gauge what I am dealing with, sirs. It’s not very often we get someone of your calibre in here. I’d hate to do wrong by your stylist and choose garments that don’t scream Seto and Mokuba Kaiba.” She had a point. She was attractive and not a complete dunce- shut up Seto, shut up.

“Fine. Let’s do this Mokuba. We don’t have the time to waste.”

“Yes Seto!”

And to the designer suits they went.

“This is what your stylist would choose?”

“Yes.”

“Are you certain this is what they would choose?”

“Of course.”

“In a suit? For your twenty-first?”

“Did I stutter?”

Her arms were crossed against her chest, glaring at the sight before her in the mirror. What the hell was wrong with his choice? He even found a matching one for Mokuba. What the hell was wrong with a grey plaid suit?

Mokuba clearly wasn’t liking his choice either.

“Seto…” He pouted standing beside him in the mirror. Okay, was the world against him today or something? Mokuba always agreed with his choices! This was definitely something his stylist would pick out as a normal suit. Just what was wrong with it?

He swore he heard the salesperson whisper ‘I’m going to kill myself’ in English before attempting to straighten her face. It wasn’t working and she let out a tired sigh. Looks like she was finally showing her true colours.

“You know what, no. Get those abominations off and I will be back momentarily with something that isn’t from the nineteen-eighties.” She briskly walked away and Seto couldn’t help but watch her retreating form in the mirror, marvelling the way her hips swayed in every step, aided by her heels.

“She has a nice ass.”

“Shut up Mokuba.”

She definitely wasn’t making this shopping experience any easier.

The woman came back sooner than expected, several items in her arms. How she did it without tripping in her heels will forever be a mystery to Seto, but nonetheless he had to admit he was impressed with how quickly she came back.

“You want grey? Let’s one up this with a deep silver.” She handed him a silver, fitted Ermenegildo Zegna suit, “Then we match it with a simple white shirt and a cobalt blue tie to match your eyes.” She handed over the shirt and tie, “And for the kiddo we are going to go with a navy blue Tom Ford suit with a white shirt and black tie. Very Daniel Craig James Bond like!”

He saw Mokuba’s eyes light up at the very mention of him looking like Bond. Looks like she won him over. He immediately retreated back into the change room to put it on.

Seto had just a little more convincing to do.

“What? Are you wanting to look like you’re turning twenty-one or look like John Cena’s character in Southpaw Regional Wrestling?”

He heard her laugh quietly to herself when he made his way back into the change room with haste. Did he accidentally voice his guilty pleasure of watching a few tidbits of WWE?

Pfft, of course not. Seto Kaiba doesn’t make mistakes!

Okay, so she may have good taste.

“Damn.” Mokuba approved.

“Damn…” She approved with a smirk.

He could grow to like that smirk, have those juicy red lips all over his- NO! SETO! COMPOSURE! What the hell was wrong with him today?

Damn stupid, idiotic, sick stylist. It’s all your fault!

He looked at himself again in the mirror. He actually looked pretty damn good, and Mokuba most certainly looked like a fuzzy haired James Bond ala Daniel Craig.

“Permission to be painfully honest and Australian.”

Australian? “Fine.”

“Your stylist is a fucking no talent wanker and deserves to be fired.” Ah, so that’s what she meant.

It just made him like her even more.

“Uh Seto, what’s a wanker?” Before he could answer, the salesperson answered for him.

“Australian slang for loser, moron, idiot, douchebag. You get the gist.”

The way she was blatantly insulting the very employee he was upset with made his insides shudder with absolute delight.

Such a sadist.

“Right… So are we getting these ones Seto?” He was already getting out his wallet.

“My only despair is that we don’t sell shoes, I’m afraid. But I implore you not to approach your so called ‘stylist’ to find you the correct footwear. I would be remiss if they ruined my choices with subpar shoes.” A dark laugh escaped her lips as if she were imagining the very scene. Seto almost pictured that she was imagining that they would pair her ever so slightly perfect outfit choices with clown shoes.

How droll.

And did he just compliment her taste in fashion?

“Please get changed, bring these to the counter and I will get them steamed and ring you up!” She retreated to the registers without another word, and gave him the opportunity to watch the way her hips swayed once again.

“Seto, you’re staring.”

“Shut up Mokuba.”

Behind the counter she held that air of professionalism once more. Speaking of which, it looked like she was the only staff member in the store.

Oh, there are the others. Watching from a crack in the door to what he could only presume was the back room.

Cowards.

She wordlessly rung up the items on the register, opting not to voice the total price of the outfits. Not that it mattered, Seto Kaiba was Japanese for filthy rich and it took a swipe of his card and a signature and it was all done.

“I must admit.” She piped up whilst neatly hanging the suits and their accessories in their own bags, “I quite enjoyed this little encounter today.” With a zip everything was good to go and was handed to an eagerly waiting Mokuba. “Perhaps we could do this again sometime.”

That was it.

He pulled out a business card, hastily wrote down some numbers and shoved it into her hand, escaping the store before anyone could register what was going on.

Yes. Seto Kaiba just gave a woman he just met his number.

And he forgot to get her name.

Shit.