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little-annie · 16 days

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Another WIP Weekend is ahead of us!

Have I worked on different WIPs every weekend 😝 yes, yes I have. Am I going to start working on the same ones from now on? TBD

🏔 Eddie Bang- I can't reveal anything about this WIP until art claims have been completed, but still, I need to desperately work on it. MAKE ME WORK ON IT.

💼 Businessman Steve- This guy has been sitting in my drafts for too long. It's a 5 & 1 of times concierge Eddie has encountered Steve Harrington, the son of business mogul Richard Harrington. At first Eddie isn't sure of the young businessman who seems to have a sex and drug problem, but as he gets to know Steve through these few encounters, Eddie comes to find Steve is living a life he truly despises. Through these few encounters they become friends and eventually by the end fall in love.

🤘🏻 Role Reversal Steddie AU- @tinytalkingtina and I have been expanding our world of Trackstar!Eddie and Metalhead!Steve and can't wait to share with you all that we've created.

⛺️ Steddie Set Up- Steve and Eddie meet on a camping trip organised by the kids. Clueless to the fact that they've been set up they become fast friends and soon a couple.

You know the drill. In an ask send me the emojis of the fic(s) you'd like me to work on and post updates.

What exists of 💼 as of now, below the cut.

There's a commotion at the double doors of the hotel lobby, multiple men spilling in all at once. Tailored suits, expensive watches, and the numbers of their mistresses hardly hidden in their phones.

Every one of them looks like an asshole.

From where Eddie sits behind the reception desk doodling in his notebook, he inwardly sighs before standing and tugging at his stiff uniform to at least appear professional. Black slacks and a white button down that he's had to treat for Ketchup stains more times then he cares to count. It's the least personalised thing he owns and with the added fact of not being allowed to wear jewellery or have his hair down, he just feels like another cog in the machine.

God he hates his job.

"Good morning, Sir," Eddie says with feigned composure as one of the suit and tied assholes of this month's conference approaches the front desk. The guys sporting a full head of salt and peppered hair, thick and perfectly coiffed on the top of his head. Eyes haunting, smile sinister in a way that's much too menacing for Eddie's taste. Shark like in the way it makes Eddie feel pinned down like a hopeless piece of prey.

"Harrington, Richard Harrington," the man says with a thundering voice instead of a greeting, slapping his credit card and ID onto the marble countertop between them and turning his back to say something snappy to the man at his rear.

Harrington, Eddie thinks with distaste, remembering the name from his first day on shift. Richard, the pompous prick, was yelling at the poor woman training Eddie because she forgot to make sure his room came stocked with higher end liquor than their Luxury Suites usually did. Really, it was something so small it could have been handled with just a phone call down to the front desk. It's a rather vivid memory and Eddie's sure that at the time if that would have been suggested the man would've dropped dead of a heart attack.

Though really, would that have been so awful?

He's seen the man far too many times since. Monthly business conferences and meetings at the hotel keep the entirety of Harrington and Associates forever coming through the lobby doors.

Much to Eddie's dismay.

He sighs at the thought of the many more encounters to come, watching as the vein bulges from the side of Richard's head and he turns a rather grotesque shade of red. Eddie feels bad for the man Richard's snapping at. It's obvious not much has changed other than the jerk sporting a few more wrinkles and grey hairs.

With a hardly contained eye roll, Eddie types 'Harrington' into the system, the keyboard clicking under his fingertips before two separate bookings pop up on the screen. One for Richard and another for a Stephen.

Eddie hums in thought, as familiar as this gaggle of assholes are, he doesn't remember a Stephen from the past bookings.

Must be new. And related. Poor bastard, Eddie thinks absent-mindedly. He can't imagine working for this guy, let alone being his son, though, maybe this Stephen's no different.

He grimaces at the thought and hopes he doesn't have to meet the man if he is.

Quietly, as not to disrupt the hissing match happening in front of him, Eddie finishes checking Mr. Dick Harrington into the hotel. Sliding the room key, credit card and ID in the man's direction, Eddie watches as Richard does nothing but continue to berate the man before him. Something about scheduling or mergers or what the fuck ever that Eddie really doesn't have the time or energy to give even a single shit about.

From the edge of the crowd of assholes a young man steps in to grab the cards and quite frankly Eddie couldn't give two shits if this guy's helping or stealing from the rich bastard. Though by the near matching formal attire and the way no one bats an eye, he supposes he at least works for the guy.

Or…

“Steve Harrington,” the young, startlingly beautiful man says as he picks up his apparent father's ID and replaces it with his own on the marble countertop.

There's a cute twist to his lip when he talks and Eddie already hates himself for staring, but how can he not?

This is Richard's son?

Mr. Tall Tan and Beautiful cannot have come from that.

But the matching square of their jaws, tilt to their cheeks and hazel of their eyes begs to differ.

Fucking hell.

He's probably just as much of a prick.

The pretty ones always are.

The straight ones too.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, willing his apparent blush to go down Eddie nods once and selects the only obvious choice of name in the booking system.

Stephen Harrington.

He can feel the man's eyes boring into him as he's typing, searing almost in their stare, so much so Eddie wonders if he has something on his face or if the guy just has zero social skills.

Chancing a glance up his suspicions are proven right and Steve doesn't so much as move, his eyes not meeting Eddie's but staring a little lower.

Eddie swallows, the judgement feeling heavy as he pulls the collar of his shirt higher, making sure there's no evidence of ink or any other bad decisions peeking out from the white buttoned around his neck.

It wouldn't be the first time some business asshole had something to say about his tattoos or the occasional hickey concealer failed to hide.

“605,” Eddie says almost mechanically after placing Steve's room key between them, his voice finally drawing the man's eye away from his throat.

Steve coughs into his fist, nods and grabs his and his fathers remaining cards and room keys but he doesn't leave. Navy blue suit and eyes Eddie thinks will take him weeks to forget, Steve remains standing before him, chewing on his bottom lip until he… he does a quick once over of Eddie. Top to bottom. Head to tail. Hazel eyes scanning, judging, making Eddie's skin feel like it's on fire for completely other reasons.

Then without a second's notice he looks from side to side rather hastily and leans into Eddie's space across the marble countertop, the sound of his elbow meeting the surface between them, a dull thud.

He smells like the pine of a forest floor and the musk of a man who's been nothing but busy and exhausted for weeks.

But God it's doing something to Eddie and he hates it.

Steve works his jaw in an odd way, rubbing at the muscle before he asks in a hushed tone, “There uh, there any clubs around here, for the, you know,” he lifts his hand to drop his wrist limply, fluttering his lashes as he continues, “variety?”

He's asking Eddie if there's any gay clubs around.

He's asking Eddie if there's any gay clubs around?

What the fuck?

Eddie bristles, already feeling his brows pull into a glare. He's making fun of him. These businessmen always do.

It's not like he's wearing a pride flag anywhere or skipping through the fucking halls, but somehow these pricks always seem to pick up on his preferences.

It's been years and only once has anyone been genuine in their inquiry.

So genuine in fact that Eddie found himself with his dick in the guy's mouth not more than thirty minutes later when he went out for his smoke break.

But a Harrington? Richard's son?

He thinks Hell will sooner freeze over.

Really if anything Eddie wants to tell the guy to fuck off, but he can't because professionalism.

So he does the next best thing.

If the guy's gonna be a judgy dick, well…

In a matter of seconds Eddie prints off a map of the city that has each and every gay bar starred and hands it to Steve with a very fake and falsely enthusiastic, “Enjoy you stay in the city Mr. Harrington, I hope you find what you're looking for.”

And then before he even has a chance to catch the guy's reaction, he's waving towards the crowd, calling out “next please” and moving to the other computer to check in the next asshole.

#writing games #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie wip #steddie au #businessman steve harrington #camping au #eddie munson big bang #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfiction #steddie fandom #steddie fic

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flame-cat · 1 year

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as someone going into the story completely unspoiled, i have to say my favorite part of getting to listen to @re-dracula has been what an emphasis bram stoker puts on connections.

too often modern horror (and im talking about the shit you see in movie theaters, not the good horror you find crammed into tiny corners of the internet or maybe once in a blue moon on the silver screen) would take our cast of characters and cause each one to have some misunderstanding with each other, some drama separating them, probably a love triangle involving mina, or at least one separating the Suitor Gang when they try to save lucy.

but stoker doesnt do that, and thats probably the queerest thing he does with the novel.

time and time again, it is proven that through loving one another and caring about one another, through admitting harsh truths and accepting one another without reservation, supporting one another through the harshest of conditions and abandoning no one, that our group prevails. it wasnt enough to save lucy, perhaps, but it was enough to give her peace in the end. indeed the one time the group willingly keeps secrets from someone (the Sexism Incident) it ends with mina being turned.

stoker uses trust and acceptance as the ultimate weapon against evil, rather the brute strength, stubborn bravery, sacrifice, or clever wit. its honesty, truth, and love more than anything that keeps the evil at bay, and its surprisingly refreshing, especially for something written over a century ago. bram stoker clearly loves his characters and his story dearly, and that love comes through in the way they all support one another, and i adore it so so much.

i would obviously be remiss not to mention how absolutely stunning the voice work and editing of re: dracula is at emphasizing this either. i doubt id catch it if it werent for hearing the characters weep for each other, defend each other, hearing them so clearly full of love and devotion to one another's happiness. kudos to you all, and bravo, i can tell you all love these characters and this story just as much as the original creator did.

#re: dracula #dracula #bram stoker #gothic horror #in the life #dracula daily

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animehouse-moe · 10 months

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Chainsaw Man Chapter 150: Dream's Next Stage - The Future of Denji and Chainsaw Man.

Yes yes, this is the day after the chapter. I wanted to get my thoughts in a row because what gets introduced here is pretty massive as for, well, sort of the entire purpose of Chainsaw Man?

It's a lot to unpack in one go, hence why it took a while to really get things sorted out, but I think it's really worth it in understanding the purpose and context of Denji and Chainsaw Man as a character. So, here we go.

To clear things up, when was the last time we heard Pochita speak? That'd be chapter 90, all the way back in part 1 where Power "eats" Pochita and is revived from Denji's blood.

Though, it's not like there's exactly "many" instances of Pochita speaking. The only time it happens is when a character is close to death, and the medium both times has been Denji. Pochita is unable to speak on his own, somewhat similar to Yoru's predicament when finding Asa.

Because of that, it's hard to truly argue that Pochita's speech is purely facilitated by Denji himself, but I think it's hard to believe that the line has not been blurred between devil and human here. We even see it with Asa and Yoru through their short time together despite their bickering, so what would happen in a willing contract like this one that's been going on for so long?

Well, really the only answer is the fact that Pochita has become a de facto representation of Denji's subconscious, or id (if you're a Freud fan).

And I think that's really really easy to explain. Lots of information, but following the logic is plain as day. Let's start without words, as that's arguably the purest form of Denji.

There's a few ways you could take this sequence. The first is that for Denji to really connect and interact with Pochita, he's had to emotionally and psychologically regress. Considering the amount of trauma and repression that Denji's put himself through, the idea is rather straight-forward: Pochita represents a better part in Denji's life. Sure, he was living in absolute poverty and was going to die of sickness, but he didn't know any better. He didn't have a world placed in front of his eyes only for it to crumble to dust.

The second way is really just a variation of this. For Pochita to be represented as his own entity, a time where they were perceived as separate was required. With that comes the idea that the experiences of Denji have also been the experiences of Pochita, and to approach each as an individual you need to isolate those shared experiences.

Either way, the supporting argument for this concept is Pochita's phrasing. "Our dream". Not "your", not "Denji's". "Our", dream.

You wouldn't think it too important a phrasing, or that it's "nothing to really focus on". But look at what Pochita says in the very first chapter. Pochita very firmly presses the idea that it's Denji's dreams, not their collective dreams.

Anyways, with the idea of Pochita representing something akin to Denji's inner voice, we can move onto the next idea: the present, and future.

I've been a massive proponent of Denji's identity crisis since Chainsaw Man's been taken away from him. What was originally phrased as a method of rebirth for the boy has now become an illusion of the freedom it was supposed to represent. Because of all of that, I don't really feel like there's a lot to add to that aspect- Denji (though personified/illustrated as Pochita) has always been aware of his connection to Chainsaw Man. It's not something he could run or hide from, it's something that's been his beacon of hope as Denji.

And that's where the present takes us. With Chainsaw Man gone from Denji, he's been left with a hole in his heart. An entire aspect of not himself, but his self has been missing. That's bred doubt, uncertainty, unhappiness, and all manner of things. He had a life that he dreamed about. He lived with friends, he got to laugh and fulfill his first dream- all because of Chainsaw Man.

Denji is the dreamer, but without Chainsaw Man to achieve those dreams, Denji can't go anywhere.

It's really clear as day. Denji never really dreamt before Chainsaw Man. He never really aspired to living or existing. Until he became Chainsaw Man. He gained a home, he gained fame and popularity, power beyond belief. And he got a family.

Which begs the question, what has Denji done? He got to kiss Asa, but then had contact cut off with her. He got to hold a penguin, but then that was taken away from him. And I know, "hey, it's not like Denji's dreams in the first part weren't taken away", but the difference is the fact that he never got to experience these ones.

Denji himself is incapable of growth, incapable of escaping the hell that exists in front of him. In the same breath, Chainsaw Man can't experience the dreams of Denji. It is, unironically, the duality of the boy that leads this series.

Denji alone cannot dream. And Pochita illustrates that expertly, once more with simple phrasing. Pochita deliberately counters their earlier use of "our", with "your" to address Denji's future.

And this phrasing really points readers in one direction: the assimilation of Chainsaw Man and Denji.

The two have always been together, but they've also always been separate. A definitive yin and yang, as opposed to a singular, balanced entity.

Now, it might not mean much since Denji's already said as much as "I wanna be Chainsaw Man" earlier in the manga (chapter 133 to be exact), but this instance is obviously different.

It's the kind of thing that is incredibly obvious when experiencing it in the literal sense, but explaining it can get a bit messy, so I'll try my best.

Young Denji is the one saying he wants to be Chainsaw Man, not current Denji. The Denji that would go on to not have a choice in being Chainsaw Man, the one that Chainsaw Man became a crutch for, a curse for.

But in the same breath, this young Denji certainly knows what awaits him. Pain, suffering, loss. And yet he still chooses to bear that burden. Because it's who he is.

This interaction, between Denji and his inner self/Pochita, is Denji not accepting Chainsaw Man as a part of himself, but that Chainsaw Man is Denji. It's an absolutely huge aspect of character development for Denji, and leans towards hinting at a third revelation for him down the road: the acceptance of Denji.

To drag this on longer than it needs to be, the idea is that Denji requires Chainsaw Man to live, in a sense. Denji places his agency and ability with Chainsaw Man, when it should be the other way around. Because of that, Denji's acceptance of himself is really shaping up to be the final frontier for his story, whenever that might be.

Anyways, great chapter that puts a hell of a lot in front of the reader with very little reading or effort. Fujimoto continues to be a genius, what else is new at this point really?

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99izms · 1 year

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through the cosmos

/ kiss later (fluff) 2.8kct

lyric synopsis: even if i dont say it / you know how i feel / i like you too / i trust you too

“hey, y/n.”

i jump out of my seat, adrenaline filling my body.

when i turned to my side, i saw my attacker was just choi soobin, the man, or rather boy, who appears at 9 am every day, scaring me in every way possible. its the 164th day of him having this routine, and it gets me every time.

“i cant believe that still gets you,” he chuckled, rubbing my shoulders to ease them. its humorous that even he is confused how i never anticipate him.

the true reason i get scared every morning at 9 am on the dot is hidden behind my ribcage, pounding aggressively everytime i see him.

its common knowledge among our peers the way us two flirt. well, its really common knowledge the way soobin flirts.

he’ll look at you, a small smile in his eyes, all while listening intently to whatever unimportant tangent youre going on. he’ll nod as he listens, making sure you know how engaged he is. then he’ll respond with a quick smirk, licking his lips soon after, and then fiddling with his hands. in this specific situation, though, “you” is me.

in that case, its common knowledge that soobin and i mutually have crushes on each other. i never reciprocated physically, though, out of pure nervousness. once i start it’ll be hard to stop right? its better not to start in that case.

of course i trust soobin, why shouldnt i? he has great reviews around the campus. a solid 10/10 stars. he’s respectful, reliable and cuddly, that last adjective i awarded him myself.

he knows i trust him, and he trusts me too. he knows how to abide by boundaries and put others’ feelings before his own. hes wonderful in every sense of the word.

“how are you, soobin?” i pushed my lips into a straight-lipped smile, raising my eyebrows to show soobin that i really cared to know despite my sarcastic tone.

“well now that im with you, my love,” he leaned down to my level, lining our eyes. his right hand was holding my cheek.

before soobin could finish his sentence, i turned my head to the side, avoiding his lips. yet, it seems i couldnt keep the smile from creeping on my face.

“kiss later, soob.” i removed soobins hand from my cheek and gave him a nervous grin.

he accepts my request and finds his seat next to me, keeping his hand on the table next to me, open in case i decide to find warmth and comfort in his fingers. eventually i took his offer and subtly wrapped my pinky around his pointer finger.

im not very fond of my 9 am class, but soobin joining me on my daily escapades almost makes it worth it. key word: almost.

“lets go out tonight,” soobin said as he held my waist, looking down at me while awaiting an answer. we were on our way off campus after a long day of distracting each other with soft giggles.

i played with his fingers with minimal thought, my mind thinking about a date with soobin tonight. our fifth date.

soobin seemed rather traditional with labels. he believed in proper dates before officially announcing a relationship. he enjoys separating dating and being in a relationship. i, on the other hand, find us in an odd gray area. even in the 1950s, people were more touchy on dates, right? id enjoy being asked to be soobins significant other, but soobin has yet to ask.

“i have a lot of work to do though,” i said as my voice faded. his fingers danced on my waist, tickling me into submission.

“trust me, ill take care of all your work, just let me take you out tonight, please?” his soothing voice lulled me into agreeing. i smiled to myself, focusing on my walking feet while trying not to give in too quickly.

“it matters where we’d go.” i finally made eye contact with him, smiling at him playfully once again.

“how about the planetarium? theyre having a huge show tonight. flying through the cosmos.”

i nodded with a small pout, continuing to hold soobins hand that was holding my waist. my eyes found his once more, seeing that he was already looking at me. the corners of my lips turned up once more, seeing the way his pupils grew to fill almost his entire iris— it always happened when we made eye contact and i thought it was adorable.

“its the fifth fucking date,” yunjin muttered as she folded a shirt of mine, “you gotta give him something. he definitely deserves it.”

i rolled my eyes, knowing my friend has been saying that since the second date. since they first heard about me and soobin officially starting to date, theyve been begging me to slut myself out for their own gain. i love them for that, because i know for a fact i would do the same thing if i were in their spot.

“yunjin, sometimes people are more conservative with their kiss virginity,” my other friend, sieun, groaned.

“im not a damn kiss virgin. thats a stupid term anyways.” my lips rubbed against each other as i tried yet another lipstick shade. i started choosing so many different colors that they started mixing together as one color—maybe ill go with a stylish, yet unique lip stain, then.

“its just crazy you have thee choi soobin wrapped around your finger and, still, you never felt the urge to go ballistic and devour him, how havent you…y’know?” my third friend, chaeryeong, agreed with yunjin.

“trust me, chaer, i definitely wanted to. during literally every date my gut tells me to jump ontop of him and go insane, but then my mind gets foggy and my anxiety kicks in and then soobin has to take me back to his apartment to drink fucking pepto bismol.” i wasnt joking but everyone still laughed.

yunjin was on her knees, rummaging through my dresser drawer to complete her mission of living vicariously through me. she was definitely hoping id make a move just so she can hear all about it. she laid out at least five pairs of underwear and seven different short shorts and skirts. she started pulling out clothing items i completely forgot existed.

“c’mon, y/n, its gonna be dark and, like, literally who goes to the planetarium?” sieun asked.

“you do know theres a lot of astronomy students in the area, right? and gay girls who are obsessed with stars and shit,” yunjin giggled from the floor.

“he did say there was a huge show today. i doubt we’ll be alone-”

“so does that imply that there is a chance youll go jennifer check on him?”

i stared blankly, yet kept the same playful undertone thats been around the whole conversation. i quietly appreciated the pep talks everyone was giving me, letting my lungs catch slow and calming breaths to ease my nerves. my anticipation was growing, making me wonder how i ever controlled myself around soobin—i guess being all talk and no bite is one hell of a personality trait.

a complete silence filled the air, only the buzz of the street lamps outside my less-than-ideal apartment. i hardly ever have soobin over at the fear of him hearing some loud bang or routine scream from the sketchy people outside. its embarrassing, but its the best i could afford off of campus.

“youre so pretty,” soobin whispered, almost not allowing me to hear.

“and youre rather handsome,” i audibly smiled.

he was wearing a completely out-of-style pair of blue jeans and a much more stylish sweater over a white button down with the collar popped out. it was a bit chilly, but sieun told me i should put my style before the weather this one time.

soobin playfully bowed to me, allowing me to curtsey in response, holding my mid-thigh length black skirt wide, showing more than i intended to. to be fair, though, i have a feeling he was peeking at my halfway unbuttoned white dress shirt, purposefully, yet messily tucked into the skirt—this was entirely yunjins doing, of course. i almost caught myself insecurely caving my chest in, wanting him to look away, but i quickly imagined how it would feel to finally seduce soobin instead of it being the other way around. it helped that he looked so pretty in the dim light.

“shall we get a move on?” i joked, raising my eyebrows to try to wake soobin from my boobs’ amazing and captivating spell.

soobin shook his head slightly, yet quickly, and offered his arm. i took it, taking a quick glance at my friends through the closing door while they quietly cheered me on. almost immediately, a thousand text messages rolled in from the three stooges, telling me that theyll be out of my apartment by the next hour and that theyre leaving presents for me in my room.

i rolled my eyes softly and smiled, knowing they completely disregarded my telling them that i refuse to ever do anything sexual in my apartment. when i sneeze, i get at least three neighbors blessing me in response. i cant take the risk.

“oh, be careful, my love,” soobin mumbled, practically carrying me down the decrepit stairs, noticing how high my shoes are and how expensive they look. “your shoes are really pretty.”

i smiled, feeling very proud of the shoes i picked out myself despite yunjin adamantly disagreeing with the decision. it was the only part of my outfit i was able to choose myself. i whispered a timid, “thank you,” feeling my domineering confidence drain with the way i melted at soobins simple compliment.

after making our way to his car, he opened the door for me. i didnt get the chance to comment on the way he watched me attempt to cover my backside while crawling into the seat.

“its even colder in here, god,” i chuckled as we walked into the dome shaped building. just as chaeryeong assumed, there was hardly anyone in the building. the old man who worked the counter was kind, and very proud that there are still young couples that have the urge to stargaze in a country dying of light pollution. his eyes were sad and mine followed, then soobin looked in mine and frowned.

“i would give you my sweater, but im a fraud, and this collar is just a piece to make my outfit look good,” soobin said with a chuckle, pulling me into his body by the side. “i can agree to cuddling, though.

i agreed, holding onto his forearm that wrapped around my shoulders. we walked intertwined, finding our way to the specific room that the show will be. occasionally, i would cross my step to interrupt soobin, causing him to embarrassingly trip a few times over. he whined every time i did it, but hearing his distress was cute, so i continued as a result.

“ah, come on,” soobin dragged on his words, grabbing me by my stomach and waist, picking me up swiftly as he held me over his shoulder. although soobin didnt work out or have much strength in a traditional sense, natural and personal strength is something soobin prospered in. no one expects it every time he reveals it, even himself.

as soobin carried me, i felt my skirt rise inappropriately. i slapped his back and shoulder trying not to alarm the older man at all.

“soobin, my skirt!” i whisper yelled at him, but my warning only caused him to look at me with a smug smile and raised eyebrows, suggesting he wanted to take a look as a joke, though im not really sure if it was a joke. soobin quickly let me down and smoothed out my clothes to make sure i was presentable to anyone we may encounter.

there was a tired, clearly overworked teenager working the stand for that specific theater room. maybe she wasnt overworked, but i can only assume how much she doesnt want to be there.

“enjoy the show,” she lazily muttered to us before taking our tickets and locking the door behind us. there was only one other person in the entire theater, and it seemed to be another older person dead asleep in the corner of the rows. soobin and i held in laughs as we wondered how long this person had been there, and how long theyll remain. soobin led us to the opposite corner of the seats, the old lady kind of scaring us out of that vicinity.

my thighs rubbed together in anticipation while my eyes took glances at soobins figure. i watched the way his hands laid between his open legs, the way his spine slouched slightly, and the way he took many, many heavy and deep breaths. his eyes stayed away from me though.

i twiddled my thumbs until a slow rumble of inspirational music played in the surrounding sound system. the theater was pitch black and my eyes were on the ceiling, anticipating the start of the star of the show, literally.

a narration by an old man begins, babbling about how small of specs we are in retrospect while video of our solar system plays in the back. i began giggling at how outdated the information was; it still had pluto categorized as an official planet. the video was grainy and the audio was practically a snoozefest in the first three minutes.

“i thought you said this was a big show, soobin,” i whispered to him, nudging his bicep.

“i lie a lot to get you to go out with me, i thought youd know this already, y/n.”

he definitely had a point there. he lied a lot. not always on purpose, but it happened. its never really blatant lies, its usually just stretched truths. technically, the show itself is big, but just in the literal sense of the word. i accepted it though, since we’re alone.

i watched the ceiling, seeing how the big bang happened (all according to some random dude in the 1990s). there was one particular part i found genuinely interesting: only after 9 billions years did our universe get created post-‘big bang’, although many people perceive the big bang as the start of the universe itself; we always find a way to center ourselves in spaces we arent important.

as soon as i turn to ask soobin if he heard that fact, i caught him trying to quickly look away from me.

his eyes were scanning the ceiling, revealing a small nervousness i havent previously seen in him often. since we switched places, i decided i could make my move.

i straightened my posture, pivoting my body so i could comfortably face him. my hand found refuge on his neck, forcing him to bring his gaze to mine.

he was so nervous and it made me feel comforted knowing this was going to be as important to him as it is to me. he took a deep breath before holding my jaw in the palm of his hand, though he didnt pull me up towards him. he allowed me to pull him down into my lips, holding him so perfectly and exactly the way i dreamed.

i smiled into the kiss when i felt soobins body perk up and push deeper into mine. we separated quickly for air, but reconnected soon after. his head tilted to find my lips in the most amazing way possible.

it was dark once more, the stars molding into each other and disappearing in mathematical patterns. we couldnt see each other, and we couldnt hear each other well, but, still, we felt each other as deeply as we could. i felt connected to him, and im more than exhilarated to be with him.

starting makes it hard to stop, and part of me wishes i never started. our bodies drew closer, ignoring the physical barrier of the armchairs between us. my mind faded out any logic that, once upon a time, guarded my entire consciousness. i wouldve continued if soobins soft hand didnt gently push my chest away from his.

the removal wasnt harsh, it was honestly hardly noticeable, but i took the hint and finally separated from soobins lips.

“im so glad you made me wait for that.” even in the darkness, i could see the way his teeth revealed themselves behind his heavy breath.

“it was the perfect time, right?” i tried not to sound needy, but i definitely needed words of affirmation after such a gutsy action.

“i couldnt have planned it better.” his smile hugged me, and his hand held mine.

the narrator then said something about the never ending expanding universe: we will expand until swallowed whole by a black hole. it’s inevitable. our generation will be long gone before that will ever happen, so we shouldnt worry.

time will go on with or without us, and maybe a new wave of life will pop up somewhere in the multiverse, and the most we will be able to do is wish for the best for them.

i hope in every universe, theres a person watching the stars with someone who is willing to wait.

a/n: i wrote this way before the loona boycott, so, despite me saying that everyone should listen to the songs i write with before or after reaading, please avoid listening to kiss later! however, if you feel you must, please listen on soundcloud, theres a few reuploads of kiss later on there! i also kinda dont like this for some reason, but its always been a fic i had a soft spot for lol

#txt fluff #tomorrow x together #txt x reader #kpop #txt #soobin fluff #choi soobin #soobin x reader #txt soft hours #song fic

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shoppingcartshells · 1 year

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I’ve been really enjoying the turtle fic, violence and pizza to me is one of the fics that is essential to my personal enjoyment of the rise turtles, so thank you for bringing it into existence :D

I’m still really interested in your interpretation of the way the Hamato Ninpō works, would you mind going more in depth on your thoughts on it?

ohohoh....hamato ninpo... fuckk . chews on an ikea establishment IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED!!

for starters, i suppose, i LOVE writing it as not just "thing that gives them powers" but "thing that is also Them and they just have powers" if that makes any sense? bc the hamato ninpo, in essence, is connection to their family. it IS their love and care for each other, and that Connection is intrinsically tied to it — its how they got their ninpo, and its how they broke their ninpos free in the movie. they were connected, and they were there together, facing off their greatest enemy yet.

and, as such, i build off of this Connection and Them-ness to sort of make it an empathy link? because their ninpos are THEM. its their soul, which grants them their inherent powers, guided by their Connection with each other. their own ninpo is Themselves. as such, when there is that Connection, it carries with them emotions. its just a natural result of how it works; they feel, and they are connected, so they feel each other.

their ninpos are also not just their soul, but also sort of an aura? its the most noticeable with mikey, especially in the future timeline where hes the most powerful, but they have the ability to affect the real world around them beyond just using their powers—easiest seen in the way that spaces they linger in have a sort of lingering Scent that they were there. again, their ninpos are Themselves, and as such where they go, their ninpo goes. meaning that emotions will linger too with the traces of their ninpo—but not in the exact sense like their true ninpo, but rather a general presence of their most common emotion.

for example:

mikey loves his family. he is Very powerful, to degrees he isnt quite aware of. as such, the whole lair has a passive feeling of love, because when hes home, mikey, happy or sad, loves his family. and he feels safe when hes home, because he knows theyll protect him, and he knows that He will protect them

donnie also loves his family. donnie typical loving his family So Much. meaning, when hes in his lab, oftentimes hes working on something to protect them (especially after the shredder and then kraany fiascos). as such, when in his lab, his siblings can expect to feel that passive feeling of protection and love

much like mikey and donnie, raph loves his family, and he wants to keep them safe. as such the training room room carries that feeling of protection and love and saftey. are you sensing a theme here yet?

and leo... hehe... well, in tqiv&taip, he hasnt been all that present, so its not particularly relevant... but id imagine that, if one were to crawl into his bed and really focus, there would be a lot of anxiety, stress, and Upset :)

following the theme, i imagine post invasion the lair was just Filled with upset. its like being an empathetic crier but Worse

all that to say, it is VERY tied to their emotions. that was why leos speech WORKRD to burn off the kraang infection

jumping off of that in a very smooth segue yep, THEIR WEAPONS!! ohh their weapons...

theres always that saying that your weapon is an extension of yourself, and in this case it is Extremely literal.

the weapons arent their own beings, of course, but theyre sort of like a clone of their souls in a way. its still them just separate—their subconscious made tangible. (mystic weapons make a sort of bond similarly to how the turtles feel, but it is nowhere near as intimate compared to the fucking hamato ninpo).

and!! since ive sort of run out of things to say: some exclusive insight to our favorite blue silly :)

we all remember how leo struggled with portals? well, in this AU, thats because the mystic weapons that they had were catalysts, not their own full, separate things—if they had been fully fledged weapons with their powers, it would have been much like having to tame a wolf. because the weapons would have been their own type of subconscious, separate from both creator and user.

all that to say: because their weapons were essentially placeholders for the onces they create with their ninpo, the reason leo struggled in this au wasnt Just the inherent difficulty of trying to figure out how portals work, but because of his insecurity. he was struggling, and it Showed—and the more he struggled to fix it, the more insecure hed feel, and, well.... something something leos vicious cycle

(ALSO why his ninpo is so Distant now. because he feels, both consciously like he deserves to be disconnected and he IS disconnected from his family because he isnt talking to them and it shows. so in one way, hes consciously pulling away, but its also subconsciously.

and, those feelings could be made worse by the fact that one of his swords is still in the prison dimension—a piece of himself, lost, that he'll never get back.)

#bonbon-lover #ask #tqiv&taip #rottmnt #thank you for coming to my ted talk #i LOVEEE MAKING SHIT UP!! ABOUT THE HAMATO NINPO!! RAHHH!!!#also dont tell anyone but i have a whole arc about their ninpo planned hehe #but thats towards what i have planned for the End of the fic so its a bit of a ways away lol #also im very glad you enjoy the fic hehe <33

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homeofhousechickens · 2 years

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Hey, I was wondering what separates high-quality birds from low-quality birds? I saw the term on the bantam comparison post, and I get the general idea, but every time I try to search it more specifically, it just gives me raw chicken.

A high quality bird is going to typically be overall a "better" bird then a low quality one and that can be different things for different breeds. For example in America we like our Ayam Cemani to be nice and shiny when in Indonesia they like their black to be dull and "darker" and some breeders actually select birds who have poor feather quality as an aesthetic. In that case those birds would look low quality to us but would be high quality to them. But i can still give my personal opinion on what makes a bird high quality.

A high quality chicken will have these traits

-Closely matches their breed standard or the historic traits of the breed. That means the birds shape, feather color and type, and personality all fit their breed.

-Great health, longer lived and a longer productive life meaning hens lay longer and roosters stay spunky for longer.

-Great feather quality, feathers are correctly shaped for their breed,sturdy, and dont wear down quickly.

- Colors have depth and richness to them. They should be uniform with no interuptions in the feather and patterns and transitions should be clean

-Good personality. The birds should be handable and good mannered even naturally skittish breeds should be worked with to improve that

You get the above with careful selection, breeding the right birds together and sourcing good foundational birds who fit the above criteria. A farm mutt can be high quality if its from good breeding and care in my opinion.

Hatchery quality or Low quality birds are birds typically bred under the idea that quantity is better then quality. Typically these birds will have the opposite traits to those i listed above.

Beeper for example is hatchery quality lets compare her to her breed standard and a bird id consider high quality, the bird on the left is Beeper and the one of the right is a Champion

Here is an illustration of a dark bantam brahma from the America standard of perfection from the 1950s. Keep in mind the hen on the right above could angle her neck like the picture below, her head is just more relaxed.

Here is what the standards want and say is most important, ill pick out the things that pertain to Beeper specifically. Im using the australian open poultry standards for my source.

-The head and crown are most important breed characteristics. Texture of the feathers is also of great importance, for the plumage should be smooth fitting and not loose- feathered and soft as in the Cochin.

-The head is small, rather short, of medium breadth, and with slight prominence over the eyes. Beak short and strong. Eyes large and prominent. Comb triple (or "pea"), small, closely fitting and drooping behind. Face smooth, free from feathers or hairs. Earlobes long and fine, free from feathers. Wattles small, fine, and rounded, free from feathers.

-Comb, Face, Earlobes and Wattles should be bright red.

-The Body should be broad, square, and deep; full breast, with horizontal keel; short back, either flat or slightly hollow between the shoulders, the saddle rising half-way between the hackle and the tail until it reaches the tail coverts ; medium-sized wings with lower line horizontal, free from twisted or slipped feathers, well tucked under the saddle feathers, which should be of ample length; tail of medium length, rising from the line of the saddle and carried nearly upright, the quill feathers well spread, the coverts broad and abundant, well curved, and almost covering the quill feathers

With those standards i have listed and the the comparsions i have shown i want you to make your own judgements (like your a poultry judge) on why Beeper isnt the same quality as the hen on the right.

(Also i want to say sometimes these comparisons hurt peoples feelings for some reason. I love Beeper her not being the best quality doesnt make me love her any less lol)

#Beeper #chicken breeding

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nahalism · 10 months

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i was wondering, how did you get to develop your art? im currently in a process where i am trying to experiment and go beyond the need to create art that is realistic (as in "objectively like reality as it is", like I was being told by both school and family). i feel like I struggle a lot to follow my inspiration because of this, and I am also trying to learn how to draw scenes from my own ordinary life, but unfortunately I am quite impatient and frustrated with my inability to create what I wish to create + perfectionism in general makes me scared of using colour as well 😭 I really admire your art so much, both your sketches and finished pieces, and I have always wondered your own learning process throughout the years. please feel free to not reply if you feel uncomfortable cause I know it is a very personal process as well, and above all I hope you are doing well and I am sending you endless love <333

🥺🥺 this is so lovely to receive because if im completely honest there are multiple moments where i feel exactly as you've just described and despite pushing through it, a message like this is very validating that ive progressed in some way

i dont mind sharing at all. i started drawing/painting when i was 21/22 which is relatively late and i was so fearful because despite having a vision for what i wanted to create i lacked any skill that could help me bring what was in my minds eye to fruition. i was also insanely depressed and in the middle of getting my degree at uni (so felt like i had no time to pursue art, at least not to the extent i wanted to). — my plan to get better consisted of multiple things. id draw everyday. i had/have two styles i'd practice, one realism, and the other 'freestyle'? basically draw only from my head and from the rhythms that came naturally to my hand, no references. by doing that, or drawing the human figure/portraits/cars/buildings from my imagination, not only was i reinforcing what id actually learned from my study of the fundamentals, but i was learning to incorporate my own creativity into the rigid structure that sometimes comes from only drawing from reference. by doing that and drawing studies every day i began to build a library in my head of images/poses/character archetypes i could pull from which made drawing from my imagination easier, but also had the structural knowledge of forms/perspective/anatomy to make them look credible. id do this whenever i had free time, and once i left uni began practicing anywhere from 6-9 hours daily. a bit extreme but i felt like i had time to make up for since i started drawing relatively late in life. only tip there is to balance practice with making finished pieces. finished pieces will show you which fundamentals you still need to work on & how much progress you've made. they also show the completion of a thought whereas practice only gives you the tools to bring that thought to reality

just so u know, ur practice of the fundaments is not in vain. you just need to revive your own capacity to draw from your imagination/subconscious. the main thing is knowing your going to find your work horrible for a long time before it gets better. the joy has to come from the process of creating rather than the end product. by the time it gets better, your eye will also have improved, so you still wont be satisfied. thats where growth comes in. being your biggest critic is what will make you great, as long as you remember where you came from (date and keep your work so you can look back on it) and the role criticism plays. separate your skill from your self worth.

something helpful i was once told is along the lines of 'perfectionism is a lie we tell ourselves to justify our procrastination. no one is ever perfect, so the only way to gain skill is to practice. you cant grow if you dont begin. so if your really a perfectionist, your only solution is to start'

i would love to see your work someday and hope i will. wishing you luck and sending you all the courage to begin and be great. you got this <3

#ask

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akirameta84 · 1 year

Text

idk when or if ill finish this and ive had a habit of sharing my unfinished wip fics lately so heres the sequel to the werewolf au oneshot i wrote (and that i also shared the first part of months before i finished and posted it to ao3 lol)

id say its a bit under halfway done? idk. it follows directly after the last oneshot and may be confusing without it. and its an unfinished fic so you wont be missing anything if you just wait for it to eventually be finished and published (even if it might be a year rip)

but yeah. this is the first half or so wip of "Howling Harassment" sequel to the kubosai werewolf oneshot "Lycanthropic Liasons"

has not been edited or proofread obviously cause its not even done

its 5.3k words, and warning for vomiting mentions. if you want to skip the mini scene where kusuo is sick (he doesnt puke in the scene but talks about having done so) ive bolded the start and end of it. you wont be missing any plot details with it, but this wip preview does end shortly after it with just a paragraph so if you plan to skip that scene you can just stop reading at the first bolded part and be fine

enjoy i guess

also my italics didnt copy over so :shrug: place them where you think they go

Kusuo had been enjoying a very nice nap, relaxing peacefully and soaking in some warm sunshine, when the feeling of something wet dripping onto him slowly roused him from his slumber.

He blearily opened one eye but then immediately snapped both open when he caught sight of the tan wolf, shockingly with a normal looking chin, leaning over him and drooling all over his face. Recoiling and lurching to his paws in the same beat, he stumbled a good few meters away from Nendou, standing tensely in the grass.

They were right outside the makeshift and, honestly, poorly constructed hideout of Kaidou and Aren’s, and Kusuo had thought that if he took a nap outside he could both enjoy the sun on his fur and separate himself from Nendou, since the idiot would likely be enthralled by Kaidou and Aren attempting to play card games with paws.

Apparently Kusuo had been very very wrong. He sat down hard into the dirt and reached a back leg to scratch painfully at his head, like it would help get all the saliva off of him even though he knew it wouldn’t.

Nendou had been staring at him the whole time until a deep bark from the hideout entrance sounded, calling his attention. Aren’s deep purple and very furry but scarred head stuck out from the door made of blankets and glared at Nendou, having heard Kusuo’s mental distress. Nendou whimpered but strutted over to the entrance and headed inside.

In regards to the werewolf telepathy, since they were unsure if Nendou could hear them, attempting verbal communication without the ability to speak words was necessary to try and talk to the idiot who had also found himself lycanthropic by unknown means. At least they knew where he was now and Kusuo could fix any problems his disappearance has started to cause.

Kusuo was slightly worried as well that, due to the fact that he was missing all of the last week, Nendou couldn’t turn back like Kaidou and Aren had at first. Kusuo had been able to teach them by just instructing them through how he usually activated his shape-shifting, and it had thankfully done the trick.

He was still hoping that Nendou could hear their trains of thought even if they were blocked from his. He’d shown no signs of it, but this was Nendou. He could be hearing everything and not give a single clue.

Either way, it was still absolutely bizarre to have someone (Or up to three someones) reading his mind for a change, even if the fact that he didn’t have to bother with proper communication as much was pleasant.

‘It’s still bizarre to me that you’ve heard all of our thoughts up to now from when you met us, Kusuo.’

Yeah. That was fair. Kusuo lifted his head and gazed at the darkening sky that was many shades of orange and pink as the sun gradually lowered into the horizon. It was rather pretty and almost soothing to stare at. It’d been decently bright and blue when he’d gone to sleep, so he’d gotten a good few hours in.

That was good. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep once he went back home and dealt with what would be waiting for him. There was no way his brother had already gone from England to Japan in under twelve hours, even if their mom calling about limiter issues was fairly serious, but he’d still get harassed via television video call from his brother and either wait in dread for his brother to fly over or just teleport himself and get it over with.

Both sucked.

‘I think you’re over reacting. Surely your brother didn’t literally create something that turns people into werewolves. That sounds impossible. To be fair, so does being born an esper, but still.’

‘…B-but how else did it get…created?’

Kaidou was very bad at hiding his excitement at the concept of a mad scientist making something like lycanthropy, even if he posed his question as.

And also how he wondered if Kusuo’s brother could make him into a vampire instead, because when he watched a movie series called- ‘Hey stop stop sto-’

Kusuo snorted but obliged and cut that train of thought off, standing up and padding over to the hideout entrance.

Regardless, the answer was very much no to Kaidou, there really was no other potential source, and yes to Aren. Kuusuke was most certainly behind this and Kusuo was either going to make him fix it or commit fratricide.

‘…Can you…m-maybe-’

‘If he makes a cure I’m not letting you stay like this, Kaidou.’

Kusuo arrived at the blanket covering and stepped inside right on cue to see Kaidou’s best attempt at a canine frown and puppy eyes…the latter of which was quite a lot more effective in a literal dog form than it normally was for the boy seated on a pillow in the very corner of the hideout, front paws splayed over a bunch of cards on the carpeted ground in front of him.

He looked away before the eyes could take effect. He was getting far too soft and was not about to consider willingly keeping one of his friends a goddamn werewolf when he could reverse it.

When. Not if. Kusuo kept making sure he left no room for doubt in his mind. That way it would be easier to kill Kuusuke if he failed to make a totally guaranteed cure.

Aren was padding back over to the light blue wolf, a sulking Nendou in tow, and though Kusuo’s thoughts had already spelled out for the two of them that he was about to go home and get the confrontation or whatever over with, he still had one more pressing issue to attempt to solve beforehand.

‘Nendou,’ He projected outwards, staring at him as if it would help get his message across, taking a few more steps on the frankly uncomfortably textured carpet.

To his slight shock, the tan wolf spun his head around so quickly he feared Nendou would break his neck (A familiar sight, Nendou did that far too much, even if it had less of an impact without the…mildly disturbing human face), tongue lolling out of his mouth as he watched Kusuo expectantly.

Aren and Kaidou looked up, intrigued, their minds similarly surprised that Nendou could hear their minds just fine.

…Could he? There was a chance that had been Kusuo’s own inherent telepathy as it was hard to tell the two versions apart, unlike the ease at which he could separate the lycanthropic ability and his own shape-shifting.

If it was his own and the idiot couldn’t hear Kaidou or Aren that wasn’t that much of an issue. Kusuo was the one who needed to help him turn back, after all.

(Considering the fact that Nendou didn’t visibly react to any of Kusuo’s ambient thoughts about that, actually, Nendou was not connected to the werewolf telepathy. He can only hear projected thoughts from Kusuo’s. Kaidou seemed utterly fascinated by that, while Aren was just mildly annoyed at how it was so complicated. Kusuo was in agreement with his boyfriend, and not just because of that status).

Nendou’s head tilted after the good few moments of staring, and Kusuo realized he should probably elaborate on why he got his attention before he was licked or pounced on again.

‘Do you want me to show you how to turn back tomorrow?’

He almost offered to do it right now but remembered, bitterly, that they were all stuck like this for a good while longer thanks to the moon cycle.

To his surprise, Nendou responded by shaking his head no, slobber flailing from his tongue as he did so. He heard Kaidou yelp as a drop landing in his eye, according to his thoughts.

That was…not the expected or desired answer at all. Kusuo wished he could just ask why straight up, but he would just go through the options instead.

Aren had sat down facing the two of them, even though Nendou was still turned away from Kusuo and looking back with his head, face far too amused to be anything but smug.

‘I bet he’s going to already know how to-’

‘You’re jumping ahead in the narrative, shut up.’

‘…I’m what?’

Kusuo firmly decided to ignore him. Kaidou could probably use some help putting all the playing cards away, he not so subtly thought of but didn’t directly project as he looked over and saw the small wolf in question pushing around the cards with his paws to try and get them all in a small stack again.

Aren just rolled his eyes but turned away to assist, and Kusuo gave his attention back to the ever still and rapt Nendou.

Seriously, he kind of wished that Nendou had lost interest in their one-sided conversation during the decently sized breaks in it. That would be less creepy.

‘Are you saying no because you already know how?’ He asked next, using purely his own deductive reasoning and nothing else.

‘You are really something special, babe.’

Kusuo shifted in place, annoyed, as Nendou nodded. There was no bothering with asking why the fuck he had stayed like this a week when there wouldn’t be a reply. He just huffed out a breath of air and asked one last question.

‘Will you please turn back and be human again by tomorrow?’

Nendou unflinchingly nodded at the downright angry tone of Kusuo’s, finally spinning around fulling and raising a front paw up, curling it and uncurling it awkwardly.

Was that supposed to be a thumbs up? Probably. He could only guess that it was because the idiot tended to give so many of those normally.

Kusuo nodded to himself and walked away, putting as much space between him and Nendou as he could in the small hideout, ending up next to the other two slightly less idiotic wolves.

‘Slightly!? It’s more than just slightly!’

Aren just chortled.

‘Do you want help getting home before I go, Kaidou? I can teleport you and then make your family perceive you as human if they happen to see you before you’re able to change back. And, of course, make your disappearance today nonexistent.’

There was a worrying hesitation before Kaidou replied, his snout twisting awkwardly as if he were trying to bite at his lip, and he paused in gently nudging a few cards to the side and merging them with the growing stack. Kusuo used his telekinesis to grab them all and order them neatly into a stack, floating them straight into the box.

Kaidou blinked at him, startled but grateful, but refocused his mind quickly.

‘A-actually I want to. Uh…t-tell them. I don’t want to hide it forever and it would just be…easier. To tell them.’

Huh. Kusuo had heard Kaidou’s mind dance on that possibility, but it had been thought about so little that he hadn’t expected the boy to actually decide on that course of action in the end.

‘…I hope it goes well, then. Do you still want help getting home right now or will you wait?’

‘I’ll w-wait with Aren. Get some nerves out. And go home when we’re back.’

‘Very well.’

Kaidou and Aren had taken to keeping spare clothes in the hideout, so that plan would work just fine for them. Kusuo had no need, he could just teleport freely around those two since his secret wasn’t secret between them. And, in all honesty…it felt nice to have have a friend closer than Aiura or Toritsuka know, as well as someone even closer but not family.

But for now he also was definitely not telling any other friends. Not until he was ready to actually do it on his own terms for once.

Kusuo turned around and walked towards the exit of the hideout despite not needing to in order to head home, but it somehow felt more polite to leave this way and then teleport.

‘I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then.’

Kaidou and Aren seemed baffled that he’d said farewell which was rather fair since he never gave those or said hello much at all, but responded in kind themselves.

Before he could make it all the way out, though, footsteps sprinted towards him, and he didn’t have much time to react before Aren shoved his face against Kusuo’s, rubbing them together like he was a cat instead of a wolf.

Aren’s expression was far too innocent afterwards as he drew back and somehow grinned, and Kusuo rolled his eyes and turned away, keeping his body but most importantly his stupid tail with a mind of its own still as warmth bloomed in his chest, grateful his face couldn’t flush like this.

He continued walking moments after, only not doing something to be polite and reciprocate because he needed to leave and not because the prospect of doing so like this was embarrassing.

He briefly wanted to strangle Aren when he heard his mental chuckle at his denial.

As soon as he had fully crossed through the blanketed doorway, tail and all, Kusuo gathered his energy and teleported to his bedroom, a location so familiar he didn’t even need to conjure the image in his head to travel to it.

And, as soon as all four of his legs landed on his bedroom floor, his television turned on and his brother’s ugly face filled the screen, telepathy canceler adorning his long blonde hair, some of it covering his left eye and the rest of it in a ponytail, despite Kusuo being nowhere close enough to read his mind. He bared his teeth at the image and intentionally raised his hackles.

It took less than a second of being home for his brother to make an entrance.

Fifty six milliseconds, to be precise.

Kuusuke sniffled, feigning sadness as his tinny voice sounded through the speakers, “I can’t believe my own baby brother is so angry at me paying him a pseudo visit. How upsetting, after mom called me so worried about you and everything…”

Kusuo just sat on his floor and glared at the television, making eye contact not with Kuusuke’s image, but with the camera perched very visibly on top of the television.

His brother knew he’d be slaughtered if he had cameras permanently installed in Kusuo’s or their parent’s bedrooms. But he’d been barely spared when he added one to his TV that only activated when he was video calling, and the living and dining rooms got actual full-time cameras.

“Hmph, no response? Not even a rude comment?” His brother paused purposefully and smugly, “Oh, wait, you can’t respond! Without your telepathy, since even with my lovely canceler I’m still far out of range, you can’t speak like that.”

A teasing glint entered his brother’s visible eye as Kusuo continued to glare, unimpressed, “Or can you? Come on, can you speak, Kusuo? Speak? Like a good dog?”

He had to put physical effort into swallowing his growl, because that would have almost given Kuusuke exactly what he wanted. His bedroom sat in silence as they had an impromptu, or really, with his brother, expected competition to see who’s resolve gave first.

Kuusuke didn’t bother to try very hard, giving up with a shrug quickly because as much as he liked to make fun of his brother and attempt to win at every little thing, proper competition or not, they shared the same trait of impatience.

Kusuo’s patience was better overall, though. It had to be, growing up with his powers and all.

“I will say, it is a lot harder to decipher what you want to say like this. I’ve mastered your blank human expression, obviously, but I am very much not a canine person. Maybe I should have made werecats instead…”

Kusuo didn’t even bother to hide his growl that time, narrowing his eyes and translating his words clearly enough that his brother was easily able to garner the meaning when given more information than an empty glare.

“Oh? Am I responsible for you and your friend’s predicament? Obviously. To be completely truthful, though, you were never supposed to find out, and you were especially not supposed get infected yourself.”

Kusuo tilted his head to the side, keeping his eyes narrowed to hopefully keep his skepticism clear.

His brother laughed at first, “Aw, you look adorable like that. It barely looks like you’re angry,” Kusuo snapped his head back up instantly, “But no, I am not lying. That’s why I kidnapped and gave the virus to your brainless friend initially, so you wouldn’t hear any thoughts about it.”

Kuusuke paused to wave a hand dismissively at the question Kusuo didn’t even try to ask, anticipating the obvious.

“I never left London and your friend never left Japan, either. I had robots kidnap and inject him with the serum I had mailed to a private lab I own in the area beforehand. It was easier and I had no risk of getting infected myself. What I failed to realize is that your little pet idiot could break out of a room made of solid steel walls and take off the tracking collar in the process.”

The screen briefly flickered to an image of, presumably, the room Nendou had been held in. There was a large hole in one of the gray, metal walls, opening straight into the outside, and the image barely lasted a few seconds before his brother was back in view.

Ah. Kusuo didn’t think that was possible either, but this was Nendou they were talking about, who has done countless other inhuman feats like his stunt in the school marathon. If Kusuo didn’t know any better, he’d say that Nendou also had psychic abilities.

“Anyways, I’m sure you’re wanting my help with this…issue of yours?” Kuusuke questioned, not leaving room for Kusuo to respond before continuing.

Not that Kusuo would have replied anyways, but the implications were still rude.

“Why don’t you teleport over here right away and let me have a look? I have to admit, much to my shame… I have no way of making a cure without seeing the biological structure of the transformed state first. Otherwise I might be reverting things that are actually a part of your human body.”

That was the biggest pile of bullshit Kusuo had ever heard, and his eye roll only conveyed a tiny fraction of how pissed he was.

“Ah, you’re too smart for that, huh, Kusuo? Yeah, I actually don’t know if I can revert the lycanthropy at all, haha! I never planned to in the first place.”

…Sometimes, the truth hurt significantly more than the lie he had tried to get fed. Kusuo sighed, quite displeased, and stood with a stretch, walking right past his television and heading for the door of his bedroom, which he swung open telekinetically.

He couldn’t see his brother anymore, but he could, unfortunately, still hear him, “Cold shoulder, huh? I never said I wouldn’t try, Kusuo,” He paused mid-step, body halfway out of the door, “Teleport over tomorrow before school, since I really don’t think you’ll get anywhere near me transformed and you’re stuck like this until around six in the morning tomorrow, and I’ll see what I can think of. I won’t keep you anymore, mom’s about to call you down for dinner. Goodbye!”

Kusuo heard his television forcefully shut off with a faint click at the same time his mom’s thoughts grew in volume as they targeted him with ‘Ku-chan, dinner’s ready!’

He’d known dinner was ready. That was why he’d teleported home at this time and had started leaving the conversation when he had. Hmph. Maybe it was a little bit of intentional cold shoulder, sure, but it was mostly dinner.

Or at least that was what he’d tell his mom if Kuusuke whined to her about Kusuo being mean, because he was just being mean for the fun of it. It wasn’t like his brother didn’t deserve it. Sure, he said he was going to genuinely try and fix the whole stupid werewolf thing, but it was his fault in the first place so the effort overall amounted to nothing.

…Did Kuusuke say six in the morning? That probably meant the initial shift had been at six this morning, which added up. That was utterly ridiculous. It was from sunrise to sunrise on the day and night with the fullest moon. How irritating. Kusuo was very good at tuning out Kaidou and Aren’s train of dialogue at this point, helped by his seventeen years of experience tuning out telepathy in general, so much so that he could even forget about them, but their exclamations of horror at that time-frame brought them back into the forefront for a moment.

They’re going to be waiting in that hideout much longer than anticipated… Kusuo sent them a brief condolence. He sent himself a reminder to set an alarm for tomorrow morning so he could shift back promptly.

Abruptly done, Kusuo turned back into his room instead of stepping all the way out, finding and grabbing his dinner telekinetically and bringing it straight to himself, ignoring the silverware for obvious reasons. Upon seeing his plate float away from his table, his mom’s thoughts became rather worried, but he reassured her that he was fine, just still. Having issues.

“…And I’ll be going to see Kuusuke early tomorrow,” He tacked on as well, rolling his eyes at how that statement fully calmed her down in the end.

Setting the plate down on his desk, Kusuo did his best to hop onto his desk chair, grumbling as he landed and the chair teetered precariously before balancing. Doing that was much easier as a cat, considering he weighed around ten pounds as one compared to now in which he was probably a good bit over a hundred.

Mildly annoyed, he huffed again tonight, and started eating (And being a bit disheartened at how dull the normally delicious tonkatsu tasted. He didn’t have anywhere near as many taste buds as a human did, so it was like the flavor was distant and sad), debating on if even trying to sleep when he felt wild awake and irritated was even worth it.

Well, even just lying restfully in his bed would be nice, and Kusuo decided listlessly relaxing was how he’d spend the rest of the night. School tomorrow would probably be a pain after having to deal with his brother, and a mental break would be necessary.

If only he had his germanium ring to truly relax in silence, properly removing both forms of telepathy. As much as he was fond of his nuisances, it was socially draining to always be either in a conversation or hearing one, as the werewolf telepathy was louder than his.

‘Are you telling us to shut up?’

‘Of course not. I’m complaining to myself, not you.’

‘…Right.’

Back on track, even if he could wear a ring on paws, it was no longer functional. The initial transformation had taken his ring with it, just like his clothes, and it’d been warped and broken beyond repair due to Kusuo’s innate strength. If it hadn’t, he likely would’ve tied it to a string and placed it on his neck.

As it stood, it was one wrong tap from Kusuo away from shattering, which wasn’t good when one weak tap from Kusuo could kill a person.

At least in the fading hours of daylight as dusk transitioned to night, people were settling down; and while most people weren’t going to sleep, they were going from a busy day to a mellow night routine, and their minds quieted as a result.

Finishing his meal and barely stopping himself from zoning out and letting his brain decide to lick the rest of the plate clean, he squinted at the empty dish and activated his clairvoyance to see if he had any coffee jelly of equal value in the fridge.

Fantastically, he did. Thank god his parents didn’t splurge on fancy dishes and silverware. This cheap ceramic plate had the same value of a slightly high in value convenience store coffee jelly, and so he apported the two of them, not caring at all that his empty plate was now in the refrigerator.

Kusuo could put it up later, before his parents noticed. Probably.

The lack of hands was making Kusuo actually appreciative of the full scale of his ESP for once, as ripping the seal off of the cup of jelly was as simple as a flex of his mind.

His tail thumped against the side of chair from where it dangled downwards as he shoved his snout straight into the cup. The taste may be watered down and nowhere close to how divine it was normally, but there was still enough of it present for him to enjoy it blissfully.

When he finished it and licked the entire inside completely clean he apported the empty cup for a significantly cheaper but still good brand of coffee jelly, since eating the contents regrettably lowered the value.

He deserved two for this whole ordeal. Maybe three…

…Perhaps not three, actually, since it wouldn’t do if he ate too much coffee jelly while being unable to truly enjoy its delectable flavor…yeah, two would suffice. That reason was why he had avoided his favorite treat even when dealing with being miserable and shape-shifted against his will, but a whole day stuck as a dog warranted it.

----

Kusuo should not have eaten any coffee jelly.

His head and stomach burned fiercely but, at the very least, he heard little to no mental voices due to it being the middle of the night. Even Kaidou and Aren were fast asleep, evidently, since there was no trace of them in his mind. So he did get the reprieve of his headache was significantly less than it could have been in this moment.

His mom rubbed his back (Basically petting him but the comfort was something he would have gotten the exact same way in a human form, so whatever), kneeling down on the floor to be next to him as he sat on the same, chilly, bathroom tile, right in front of the toilet.

Caffeine was toxic to canines, as well as most other animals. Technically it was still toxic to humans but that was irrelevant due to humans having the constitution for it.

Wolves did not have the constitution for it. It made them very ill instead.

Yes, he’d known that, but he’s eaten coffee jelly in his cat form with no repercussions despite his biology being just as altered as it was now…but, on retrospect, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever spent the next few hours after those moments remaining in a cat form and letting that body start to digest it, instead turning back before that could happen.

His mom’s mind was frantic with distress which was fair considering she’d found her normally invulnerable son still transformed and heaving the contents of his stomach into the toilet in the middle of the night after waking up from the noise of him teleporting and landing loudly into the bathtub at first because he’d been disoriented and nauseous, but she’d refused to let her mind come up with and ask questions until she was sure Kusuo was going to be alright.

She was a godsend, and so he decided to explain of his own free will so she wouldn’t start crying, which she was far too close to for comfort, flicking his gaze to the side so that it met hers.

“I’m okay. Or getting there. Dogs can’t have coffee or they get sick. I ate two cups of coffee jelly after dinner…I think I forgot to take the plate I apported into the fridge back out as well. Sorry.”

“Kusuo…” The use of his actual name was usually a bad sign, but now it was more out of exasperation and worry than anything of the scolding variety, “Can you still not turn back?”

He just shook his head, not wanting to explain that he wouldn’t be able to until a time frame that was far too specific for what he was still pretending was a power malfunction.

Kurumi just hummed sadly at that, continuing to stroke his back even as his scooted a bit away from the toilet. His stomach was still rolling queasily, but Kusuo was fairly sure that his body was done being absolutely disgusting.

He almost shuddered remembering how it had felt. He was beyond glad his ESP made him neigh immune to disease, because vomiting was the most unpleasant thing he’d ever experienced so far in life.

As he continued to pull himself back together, staring blearily at the white bathroom floor tiles, his mom asked him another question, “Would medicine help?”

“Even if it did, given my powers, I can’t take it like this. Human medication is a very big no-no for animals,” He sighed mentally and slowly raised himself off the ground, taking shaky steps past his mom and towards the open bathroom door. It was dark in the house, and so the hallway outside looked pitch in contrast to the illuminated bathroom, even with his ability to see in the dark.

The bathroom was, fortunately, rather close to his bedroom, so he decided against teleporting and padded slowly back to his room, pausing as his mom rushed ahead to open the door for him, leaving the bathroom light on in the process.

That was sweet of her, even if he probably could have used his telekinesis fine. He sent a quiet thanks to her and closed the gap to his bed agonizingly slowly, as his stomach lurched ominously whenever he tried to speed up more than a tiny bit.

Kusuo had actually managed to drift asleep briefly before this incident, lulled sufficiently by soft mental voices as he laid on his bed, and now he was even sleepier feeling. It seemed like getting sick had actually assisted in granting him some much needed rest.

He didn’t bother to shut his bedroom door, nosing under the covers of his bed until he was completely buried and comfortable, wondering faintly where his mom had gone when he heard her footsteps go downstairs, but overall not that concerned about it.

It was only when he had nearly fallen asleep again that his heightened hearing noticed her approaching his bed, and she called for him as she approached the lump of covers he’d become, “Ku-chan?”

He stuck his head out from under his blankets, the rest of his body curled up tightly behind him, looking curiously at his mom as she held a bowl full of water out at him, setting it down on his end table once she’d confirmed that he knew of its presence.

“If you feel up to it, you should make sure to drink some water, okay? Otherwise you’ll get dehydrated, since you just threw up,” She reached a hand down and stroked his head gently, and Kusuo nodded both to signify that he heard her and to dislodge it politely.

He knew that. He just hadn’t felt like getting himself water when he would have survived the night regardless. But, now that it had been brought to him, he crawled up on his bed until he could stick his muzzle into the bowl and drink as his mom turned to leave, wishing him a good rest of the night that he almost forgot to return.

Drinking from a bowl like this was mildly demeaning, but it was significantly less of a hassle than using telekinesis to drink from a cup was. So, since he was feeling very icky and wanted to exert as little energy as possible right now, he decided he didn’t care, tucking his head right back under his blanket once he’d had enough to satiate his thirst.

----

Waking up to an alarm at six in the morning when he didn’t have to be at school until closer to nine would usually be a miserable experience, but for once, Kusuo was downright filled with joy when he remembered why he was startled out of a deep sleep so early.

#werewolf au #akira scribbles #<- i guess even wips can go here now lol #saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.#kubosai

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yesmissnyx · 1 year

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just something to note from your last poll… personally as a binary trans person i find it uncomfortable to be grouped with nonbinary people as opposed to cis people. because to me as a binary trans man i am a man the same way a cis man is, but not necessarily in the same way a nb man is. idk how others feel about it but to me it just feels othering, saying that we’re any different gender-wise. it would probably just be safer to have two more options, just an fyi :) also not meant to be any hate towards the nb options!! sorry if this is worded weird lol its late

Okay so. As a disclaimer, this might come off as condescending or snappish, but as a queer (vagueness intentional) in my 30s who's seen all kinds of identity discourse rise and fall since the 00s...I have a lot of feelings about orthodox terminology.

So. Forgive me if I'm being needlessly spicy.

It's going behind a cut, since this isn't the kind of energy I want on this blog, and I'm likely going to delete this later because I don't need T//er/fs and Tr//usc//um crawling around here if they find it 😤

This might be controversial, but I meant the slash as an and/or.

Because for me, and a lot of others, transness (and nonbinariness) IS inextricable from our binary gender experience.

I've known (and know) multiple people who identify as trans, nonbinary, AND male/female. (Myself included, depending on the day, weather, how the stars are aligning, etc. FYI.)

And...I think it's important to remember that something like a simple, quick-and-dirty poll like the one I ran...just plain isn't going to encompass the tapestry of how everyone experiences gender. And like? I think that's fine.

Expecting everyone (trans or cis or otherwise) to always express Gender Stuff in a way that fits OUR personal needs is, IMO, unproductive at best. And invalidating/hurtful at worst.

Not to mention, it's impossible. I'm not saying we can't try to be nice and accommodating toward others, but there is no simple set of rules that everyone has agreed on.

We can make requests and enforce our own boundaries, but the uncomfortable fact is that we all have our own needs, and those needs often compete.

Something that causes euphoria in one person is going to cause dysphoria in another. We all experience our transness differently, especially including the words we use to describe our experiences.

I certainly don't think the added "trans" in front of man/woman makes someone less of a man/woman. The same way I don't think lumping oneself in with nonbinary men/women does either.

Like...if you ID as a man/woman, you're a man/woman. If you ID as trans...you're trans. I separated out an individual NB option specifically because it excludes the male/female aspect, rather than includes it. (And that's not to say it even includes all the myriad nonbinary options out there, as well as people who don't use NB as an umbrella, etc.)

It's complicated. Intersectionality is complicated. Far more complicated than I'm qualified to get into, save for citing my own experiences and the experiences that have been shared with it.

Aaaand, that's all I'm going to say! Because this is something I can get really heated about, and I'm not about to go off in my happy feel-good horny time space any more than I already have!

#ask nyx #tbd #Blech. I don't want to get too serious here as a habit. I have other spaces for that!#But yeah! I dunno! I sure hope I don't regret posting this!#I just feel like kink education and queer education are perhaps not sisters but cousins.#And alas! I am but a filthy inclusionist whenever possible.#(Maturing just so assholes can't report me for being Gender on tumblr 😘)

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brainbuffering · 2 years

Text

12 Days of Manga (2022)

Day 1: Favourite Ongoing Series - Snow White With The Red Hair by Sorata Akiduki from Shojo Beat (T: Caleb Cook L: Brandon Bovia E: Karla Clark)

[ID: English cover for Snow White With the Red Hair Vol 19 by Sorata Akiduki. Kiki wears a burgendary psudo-european-medievial style dress with long flowing sleeves. In on hand she holds a wine glass, and in the other she gently clasps her sword. She sits sideways but looks knowingly at the viewer. Behind her, a festival at dusk is in full swing and we see the backs of Hisame (left) and Mitsuhide (right)]

This year (as of writing) the UK has been gifted Volumes 17 - 19 of SWWTRH*, covering the Bergat Arc which finally gave some more time for our beloved Kiki to shine and the return of everyone’s (read: my) favourite beloved arsehole Hisame Rougis. This more action and romance based arc was a nice return to form last year’s Orimmallys arc. As wonderful as it was to see the STEM elements of SWWTRH come to the forefront, with no doubt Cook’s experience on Dr Stone helping him translate all that psudo-science, I’m a simple Blogger who likes to see some swords and swooning.

That said, this combination of genres and themes really does highlight what makes the series so good. Anyone who tries to tell you that Shojo is all the same really needs to read this series because it will swing from mystery to romance to action adventure to science explainer in only a few chapters. I’ve said it elsewhere but I will say it again: it i also just so nice to have a manga I can confidently recommend to literally anyone! It’s a great starter for those looking to get into Shojo, be they a 10 year-old who has some book tokens to use up, or a 40 year old who wants to finally branch out beyond the Shonen Jump Sphere of Influence.

The series is also beautifully unintentionally queer, and that was highlighted again this year. Well, I say unintentionally. Some of SWWTRH’s contemparies in LaLa include explicitly queer stories such as Ouran High School Host Club, so who is to say how it will end? I can hold out for my bisexual polyamorous ending in which Obi, Zen and Shirayuki end up married with 2.5 children, right? With lines like this, it’s starting to feel more like text than subtext.

[ID: Zen smiles widely. “You might have a trio who lived completely separate lives... ... but came together in the palace... ... to now spend their lives together, side by side.”]

But I digress. As I said! This was the year of the Kiki. We got to get more of a glimpse into her role as heir to the Seiren Family, and what expectations that holds. She got some closure on her relationship with Mitsuhide that, without spoilers, was very afirming from an Aro/Ace perspective, and started to see her take new steps with Hisame in a way that allows them both some character development and encourages world building! We also got to see her beat people up with a sword, although perhaps not as much as I would have liked. She did get her own dramatic “I’ll be shooting for my own hand” moment, with all the paralels and metaphors of working hard to choose your own fate and your own destiny, and to not get thrown by romantic rejection but rather remain to stay true to yourself no matter what. So I suppose I can’t really complain.

[ID: Two manga pages of Kiki shooting arrows in the middle of the night, the range lit by fire light/beacons. The first ten arrows have missed the center of the target completely. Kiki looks disapointed and uncertain about everything. Then she appears to center herself and manages a bullseye.]

I’ve said many times before, that I don’t think there is any reason for a series to go beyond 30 volumes. I can’t imagine any story that needs to go on for that long without it becoming far too repetative. However SWWTRH is one of those series that I will happily be buying for the next ten years! For one, unlike a lot of ongoing series, SWWTRH is not restricted to a time scale (e.g. three years of high school) or singular goal (e.g. entering the olympics). Shirayuki and Zen confirmed their romantic feelings early on, and whilst we want to see their relationship develop the pace it is going at feels realistic for people of their age, and in their situation.

Why should they get married at age 19? Shirayuki becoming a well respected court herablist will help her standing in marrying him, sure, but it’s also the goal she wants to achieve without romance being on the line either. Heck, even if her only goal was marriage, it’s perfectly reasonable to want to finish your studies before settling down! The story is not lessened by its slower pacing, but rather enhanced by it. Much like real life, it takes its time with each arc, meandering rather than steamrolling. Yet it doesn’t feel repetative, it doesn’t feel as though Akiduki dragging things out for the sake of it, but rather just allowing the characters to take moments to breathe inbetween events.

The characters are allowed to grow and change with the narrative, and have that be reflected within the story. There’s a whole time skip that takes place without it feeling like some big terrifying event, rather just the nature of what happens in adult life where you just spend a year focussing on your work and your studies, and so naturally don’t get up to the sort of major adventures that you might tell your grandkids about.

The series finds strength in the age of its characters, young adults growing into themselves and finding a purpose in life without fear of falling and failing. Obi is allowed to find comfort in the mundane, and not having to go on life changing ninja adventures all the time. Shirayuki’s focus on her studies living away from Zen doesn’t mean that their romantic relationship must come to an end, and she is allowed to develop completely independently of their love whilst still having that love be incredibly important to her! Mitsuhide is happy to live a life without marriage and kids because he cares more about the platonic relationships in his life, and wants to put his time and energy into those. Kiki is still working out what to do next now that her initial plan for life has turned side ways, and that’s good too! She has a support network in place to help! Zen meanwhile continues to be the perfect prince, the white haired anime boy all white haired anime boys should aspire to be, and I hope that he is able to move back in with his girlfriend and boyfriend full time.

The joy here is in the journey, not in the destination, and i’ll happily continue on with these characters for years to come!

*The Americans have up to Vol 21, but the ongoing supply chain crisis and paper shortage are out to get me personally.

#Snow white with the red hair #manga #shojo #swwtrh #12 days of manga #12 days of manga 2022 #Akagami no shirayukihime #ans

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astraystayyh · 6 months

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Hi, I'm sorry for the long rant, I'm too scared to come off anon, but I really need someone to share this thoughts

Hyunnie is such a lover, a hopeless romantic, a precious little ferret, I just can't😭

"And if you don’t know love, I will make the best of us. And if you know so much, Why don’t you give me love"

"It’s okay to sell me some pain, love me"

Like babe, slow down will you?😭

And how he keeps thanking stays for loving him and asking stays to keep loving him in the long run (still can't get over the clip where he literally cried while asking stays to not leave them). Coming on bubble regularly to share about his little adventure or TMI to stay. Sharing his arts and telling us some behind stories about them.

For the members, on their vlog, where he said everything would be fine as long as they are together as 8. He also mentioned how he didn't like skinship but on the group contents, he's somehow always attached on the hips with the members. One thing I noticed whenever he filmed 2 kids room with another member, most of the time (if not always) he sat really close to them to the point their legs touched. He even laid on innie's lap throughout the whole episode.

Yk whenever those post about which members you wouldn't date, my first mind would always come to him. Don't get me wrong, it's just... he's too precious. I'm afraid I would hurt him. Or wouldn't be able to fulfill his expectations about love and relationship.

I hope happiness will always be with him

Thank you for reading my long thoughts. Have a nice day!

hiiii bb please dont ever apologize for long rants THEY ARE ALWAYS MORE THAN WELCOME,,, especially sweet ones like this 😭😭😭😭

he isssss it’s like his atoms are bound by love he’s so so lovely he makes me wanna cry 😭😭😭 « if you dont know love ill make the best of us » is the equivalent of ill love you enough for the both of us to me AND IT MAKES ME WANNA WEEEEP,,, his song was so so beautiful i agree 😭😭😭 he needs to slow down with the romantic lyrics like wdym « i feel your scent it came to me as my own breath » HOLYYYUHHHHHHH

stop this will make me cry :((( he’s such a pure angel and his love for stays is so genuine,, u can FEEL it in the way he talks to and about stays and the way he looks at them 🥹 he deserves ALL the love in our world

anddd yesss 😭😭😭 i think spending time with each other everyday makes them so so comfortable with one another and it’s so so endearing to see,, PLEASE NEVER SEPARATE THEM

wahhh i never thought of that perspective :,)) it reminds me of the whole « i’d rather die first because i can’t bear losing you » vs « i’d rather die last because i don’t want you to go through the pain of losing me » 😭😭😭 he is too precious i agree, and his view of love is so beautiful i would too be afraid to taint it,, but im greedy so id rather love him and do everything to make sure i’ll love him right, i think it’ll come very easily to me 😭😭😭😭

thank youuu for sharing your thoughts with me 🥹 this was a very heartwarming read hehe

#sahar's.asks <3

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team-council-two · 2 years

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So how is Spy a special case?

*is excited*

(for context, in a previous post, i added the tags " i could write an entire book on how unfamiliar french people in medias seem to actual french people, spy is an odd case; ask me about him")

aiight, you know what you signed up for, get ready for one hell of a presentation, ft terminal verbosis frenchosis ! this will be in three parts, of course, because three is a good number and the mere concept of having 3 parts should give you all a headache (look ray i didnt add a n this time)

wait shit im not even sure mistral is a spy, hold on,

aw fck thats for real ones

anyways femme fatale trope, next question

HA gotcha, you didnt think id let yall go with just one sentence huh ? so. our fella is french. our fella is a spy. our fella is a huge piece of shit. extremely common, alright ? outright overused archetype. eeeexcept that the combo's execution here REALLY stands out. how so ?

well, let me ask you a quick question. do you think the fact that he is french, and the fact that he is an evil bastard, and the fact that he is a spy are linked ?

well ill answer that for you. nope. valve treated these three traits remarkably separately. the way he speaks french in game is relatively polite, and the insults he throws around are, i checked, exclusively in english. he is surprisingly free of the usual way medias make "being evil" and "being french" be a hand in hand thing, and similarly free of the one that seems to indicate that Because you are french Of Course you are a spy. in other words, rather than being a walking glamour stereotype of sorts or an obnoxious asshole the likes of which we have seen hundreds of, this is a godawful guy that also happens to be a french snob, and that also happens to be a spy.

compare with, say, our lady mistral above who has a shitton of taunts in french, who embraces that whole sexy lady deal, deliberately plays on it and so on. difference is miles.

and now if you followed you did catch i said french snob rather than just french, there is a reason behind this, so allow me to get on part 2, which i promise will be WAY more verbose-

im not sure why but american medias love to have peppy rich french fashionistas in their shit. theyre cute, hyper, sheltered as fuck, and the entire deal is weird bc these people seem like aliens to actual french people who tend to care about fashion in pretty normal amounts and definitely do not have that many grands to bust into it. *yes* we pride ourselves in having a pretty neat fashion industry, but in a similar way as the american and the german boast about their cars. we are NOT obsessed with it okay. anyways, sometimes writers have the decency of making these characters cunts, but not always. but what doesnt vary is the trope seems to play out like ah yes, your average french- which is fucking baffling. and is the part taking us aback.

see, we HAVE the evil breed of those characters too in our shit. comedic shit, to be precise. a rundown of our humor is it often is situational humor - stupid outlandish situations with equally stupid archetypal characters, their personality equally pushed into the absurd, all of that more often than not thinly veiling some pretty heavy social commentary. in other words, you often laugh at the evil cop/rich factory/big restaurant owner/politician/etc getting karma'd in mind boggingly bizzare and hilarious ways, while clearly showing them as evil for mistreating subordinates (and often getting shit for it sooner or later) and as simpering cowards towards literally anyone who has any kind of superior position to them whatsoever.

in other words, context matters. where in american shit they are often allies or friends or comedic relief of sorts through being french/annoying or just villains, in french shit they more often than not are *targets* of some kind of events and shown to be ridiculous through other means than their obsession for fashion or whatever.

am i saying that valve did this ?

...yeah. thats a very bold statement, but yes. i mean, cmon,

see, i am overall basing this on the fact that ingame spy is so fucking similar to many, many, many of Louis de Funès' roles, and even his face, it outright had me searching around the wiki for some kind, any kind of claim of inspiration from valve-

he reads exactly as one of them ! rich cunt obsessed with money, constantly mocking people, constantly complaining about everything ever, fakely polite, not opposed to doing vile acts to have his way, extremely menacing face, *the same fucking laugh*, and the fact that characters played by this guy have remarkably often have what we call a couillon de fils, a dumbfuck of a loser ass son, if you will.

the only differences really are from comic spy, who reads far less like this. he's still well executed mind you, but he (especially @miss pauling) reads as far kinder than this dude's characters usually are, and he is a bit more... stretched, both physically and in behaviour, than the actor's goblin build and attitude, as game spy seems to be unable to stand straight whereas the comic one seems to have no difficulty with this, and the similar range of expressiveness that also ports 1:1 is game exclusive as well. and finally, comic spy also was not given the occasion to cuss people out, so.

anyways my point mostly amounts to, if you manage to make french people think of an emblematic actor beloved by many, rather than just make us go through the usual whiplash of "how is that a normal french person to american people ???", you are probably doing something right.

youtube

in addition to this wall of text, i am begging you all to watch this, it should help understand what i meant by our breed of humor, and what i mean by "spy could have been played by this dude no problem"

now, onto part 3,

well once you said he is a pathetic wet cat man you summed it up really.

for all the class he has, for all the money he has, for all the. everything ? he still is pathetic. he still is simply seen as a mean as fuck loser either trying to drown his failures as a father with expensive tastes, or simply amoral and unsympathetic because of his concerns being about money rather than about humans. he still is headcanoned as stinking by most of the fandom. nobody respects the fucken spy. he comes across as haughty and it only makes people want to shit on him some more.

really, it is pretty much everything I explained in the two points above. the patheticness helps with making it so he is not a stereotype, and it helps making it clear he is supposed to be representative of rich pretentious cunts rather than of french people.

so, he is a huge bitch, and ironically, this makes him a blorbo to us, bc who doesnt love a good ole flawed character ?

his whole french deal is not shown as eccentric or what makes him a loser but just a coincidence, in a sense. and you'd be surprised by how much of a breath of fresh air this is to french people. shitty in a realistic way rather than a made up clown, and in a way we can recognize in our own medias. it also is neat from the, err, fandom pov ? because you get to develop his frenchness and assholeness and spyness separately, since they are elements implemented for the sake of themselves rather than as a stereotypical whole. you get to have *fun* with him.

SO i think i ran out of things to blabber about. hope it makes sense tho. but i guess it really is about. not *quite* representation because we do not see ourselves in spy, of course, but way more about our culture not being bastardized and being turned into a joke about eccentrics at best, or hatred about seductive women and effeminate/homosexual men at worst, + having a fresh execution on tropes that else usually would get our eyes rolling.

alpha, over and out

#tf2 spy #langage language #tf2 #The Council has spoken #god my tags are a mess #hope yall can bear with how im basically the messiest member of the council #comes with being the frenchman i suppose

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