#its so healing to me
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fic rec friday 54
hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.
all i want for christmas by tusslee
“Listen,” Lance squeezes Keith’s fingers in his hands, “I’m as bad at this as you probably are and this is going to be really cheesy, but that’s the way I was raised and I know I act like an idiot around pretty girls, but I’m an even bigger idiot around you. Go ahead and try to guess why that is. No, actually don't do that."
this one is gonna be an xmas special!! even though im writing this before halloween lol. anyways. this was so cute!! lance being all stressed about what he should get keith bc he's all in love w him any everything. so real.
2. You're Here (Where You Should Be) by @blue-wanderer
"And if you’re worried about the cameras just take care of them.” “Take care—! Take care of them? With what, Keith?” “I don’t know?” Keith asks, busily testing his foothold in the gate and generally ignoring the rising storm cloud of ire behind him. “With a gun?” “A gun? This isn’t some sort of black ops storming an enemy base thing! This is a Christmas tree thing!” “I don’t see a difference? You’re the sharpshooter. Shoot out the cameras.” “Let me just pull a gun out of my ass, Keith!” “OK, problem solved,” Keith agrees, taking another step up the gate. “Nothing is solved you dumb country space redneck!”
Or Keith and Lance may be disasters at decorating, but Christmas still manages to work its magic on them.
i bookmarked this like a year ago and let me tell you all i needed to hear was dumb country space redneck and i was hooked 😭😭 and it lived up to the name fr. hate the canon ending? want lance to not be a farmer while still acknowledging his struggles with homesickness? want some whipped keith and meddlesome kosmo? want some cheesy xmas feels? click ahead!
3. make my wish come true by angelbolt
“A world where one has to fight for custody of one’s boyfriend is a godless one,” Lance muttered, slumping so he was leaning against Hunk. Shiro exchanged some final words with Kolivan before the screen blipped out. Ah yes, the ideal Christmas Eve: long boring talks and war meetings. Wonderful. ❆❅❆ keith comes home for christmas.
fun game idea: take a shot every time you see a klance xmas fic with a mariah carey lyric. lol. ANYWAYS yall know me and established relationship + early season dynamics!! i am obsessed!! and this fic delivers!! grumpy lance pov who just wants the rest of the world to fuck off for a couple days so he can have his bf around. he's such a voice of the people
4. i'll be home for christmas by @thespacenico
A severe bout of winter weather threatens to stop Shiro from making it home for his first Christmas with Keith. Shiro is ready to do whatever it takes to keep his promise.
okay this one is from darcy's i've got you brother, which i am obsessed with and have cried over several times, and which just recently updated! this fic is so cute and a adashi with young keith always fucking gets to me, man. they're just so. shiro being so desperately determined to keep his promise to young keith who has had so many promises broken that he doesnt even expect shiro to try. but is happy that he does. sobbing.
5. the greatest gift of all by dumpsterdiva
Keith’s mouth hung open for a few seconds before he stammered, “D-do you really mean that?” Lance looked a bit sheepish as he said, “I… It’s crazy, right? I mean, it’s way too soon. You know I was kidding.” Keith straightened up. “Well, I’m not. Marry me.” “What?!” “You heard me, you coward. Marry me.” “That’s the worst proposal ever!” “Worse than you threatening me with marriage so I would stop talking about how amazing you are?”
YOU GUYS KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT PROPOSAL FICS. i feel ksjbskdbqjdbqwlwd about them. okay. and throw in a christmas setting??? and banter?? and a MODERN AU?? i am doing my best, people. this fic had me shoving a pillow into my face and screaming.
that’s it for today!! happy holidays! merry christmas!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!
#i like them being gay and stupid and soft and surrounded by xmas lights#its so healing to me#keith puts the rizz in christmas btw#vld#voltron#lance#lance mcclain#keith#keith kogane#fully almost wrote keith mcclain#u know what???#keith mcclain#best kind of accident#keith would so do that by accident#like on a mission report or something#GASP okay i was looking for a fic tonight#well the tonight i am writing this which is october 27th. i wonder if ill actually do it lol#established klance#fic rec#fic rec friday#christmas#blade keith#soft keith#longpost#soft lance#soft klance#broganes#shiro#takashi shirogane#keith & shiro
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Red version of "The Ritual" goes so hard AND makes me cry like a LITTLE BITCH bc i too am suicidal and the. Confrontational nature of it is so. Good. I cry dude.
#i cant stop listening to it. i really love it so so so much. “EVERYBODY!” sobs sobs sobs#stray gods the roleplaying musical#its so healing to me#my other favorite song is “look at me” green version#so SO SO MUCH of this game made me cry im im love with it#the music is so powerful..
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Fem!reader x 141
Honestly might be able to to something with the gross stuff I saw at the hardware store I used to work at (except make it hot and 141)
Imagine you're a cashier, the only one with early morning availability so you're there at 5:45am for the 6am start. It's always the worst kinds of contractors there: rude, tired, dirty, leering gazes and sexist comments
You're pretty sick of it, but you get paid a bit more than minimum wage and you're done by 11am so, you take it with a cheery smile and fast service
The 141 contracting company starts spending at your store. So much, in fact, that your manager personally takes you aside to mention just how much they do - nearly a million a year - and how no matter what, your job is to be nice and please them
Well, you can do that. You've dealt with crazy, awful old contractors screaming in your face about lumber prices at 6:30am more than once, heard them talking about your tit's or your ass right in front of you - you can handle it
Until the masked one comes in first and hes huge, dark hoodie and cargo pants hanging low on his hips. He hands you 3k in bills only there are bloodstains on them and he watches you closely the whole time you count them out
It's... not a first, but the look he gives you makes you shiver. Pale eyelashes, tall, intimidating
The second is nicer. Too nice, in fact. He charms you before you're even fully awake, and your shift goes by quickly thinking about that winning smile and the way he'd touched your fingers while he handed you a stack of bills... not to mention those soft brown eyes
The third is... intense, for 8am. He rolls on the balls of his feet, stares at you harder than the masked one. He offers to buy you a hot chocolate at the coffee shop next door and grins like you made a joke when you decline
Their boss is fucking dreamy. Even you have to admit it, trying not to look up at his mustached, frankly porno-esque face. He's huge, as tall as the others but thick, with a little pudge around his belly. He trudges in with thick workboots and a stained t shirt, pays for 24k worth of material with a lazy smile on his face like it's nothing
You might ask head cash to move you to the garden center after all...
#141 x reader#simon riley x reader#kyle garrick x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#john price x reader#based on a true story only i wanted to kms when i worked at that store#genuinely contractors are the worst most disgusting kinds of men#so this is healing <3#imagining a nice contractor#lmao#i used to work 6 - 11 am#also this is so lazy#pls forgive me for how lZy it is#lazy*#idk#hehe#drgnfly writes#im trying to use my brain its so hard#anyway john takes u out on a date makes them all jealous#or maybe gaz charms ur pants off#U PICK
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COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO
synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most.
word count; 4.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues
a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33
”holy shit!”
the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.
”satoru, it’s too early for this...”
”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes.
your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.
(snowing.)
with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.
satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks.
maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth.
it’s beautiful.
satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded.
all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere.
the first snow of the year.
and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.
there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.
like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.
and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again.
(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.
and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)
high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.
and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling.
a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.
he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.
— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.
satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.
(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)
”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.”
he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.
it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.
so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.
satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.
”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.
”never.”
a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.
a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”
and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.
his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”
his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.
he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face.
when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.
you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips.
hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.
satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.
because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs.
what more could a man want?
”hey, idiots!”
the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.
”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”
”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.
suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there.
(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)
with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.
”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.
then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”
satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”
a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”
a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”
and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”
satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.
despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”
”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.
”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”
satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.
suguru sighs.
��yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”
his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.
he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot.
when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.
the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.
(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.
and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)
suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.
when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.
that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.
”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.
satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.”
but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”
a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”
you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”
a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.
and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word.
his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.
and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology.
(i'm sorry, you big baby.)
satoru grins.
you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.
”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”
he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”
”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”
”and don’t play dumb, either.”
a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”
said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown.
and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.
”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”
satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”
you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”
”hmph.”
suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.
and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again.
that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.
this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.
(married.)
sometimes he still can’t believe it.
”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.”
and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.
and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.
your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.
his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.
(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)
and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.
a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.
and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.
”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”
”— you’re disgusting.”
the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.
and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.
you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.
then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?”
”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.
silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.
”… santa can only do so much, baby.”
two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.
”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.”
you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”
”of course not! blasphemy.”
a moment passes.
”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”
a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.
then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow.
he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.
and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.
he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice.
for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?
(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)
— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.
it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.
and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.
warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter.
he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself.
and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest.
he hopes it never goes away.
#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3#i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother#i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u#but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it#and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child#im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto x reader x gojo#gojo fluff#geto fluff#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#satosugu x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#……… thats… a lot of tags.
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congrats on your recovery n all yuuji but unfortunately for you I thought the scars were cool >:/
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#yuji itadori#jjk fanart#jujutsu kaisen fanart#jjk art#jjk spoilers#jjk manga spoilers#jjk leaks#these took so long i kept getting distracted cries#but they r done and this is yuuji's post canon scar map to me. argue with a wall we should have had this#looks at canon this sign won't stop me bc i cant read >:(#smh robbed!!!!!! the potential!!!!! the aesthetic!!!!! th angst the symbolism!!!!!!#gege i respect u i do not want beef after u let my boys live#but u rly couldnt have scuffed him up a LITTLE more.....there were so many to choose from didnt u have a favourite.....#all he has to show fr all that r two little scratches. rly.#((not counting the ear n fingers thank god i get That much))#anyway i made a whole post abt why i think yuuji should have kept the scars n what it would have stood for symbolically#its along th same lines as the yuuji Big Face Scar agenda hh i just care a lot abt character design n visual storytelling ok#anyway fine he can keep the eye but in this house it grew back wrong it's lighter and foggy and now his prescription is stronger#as fr the rest#megumi has dibs on the upper right eye apparently so yuuji can have the bottom half#i would have doubled down on the scars on his left but a. the right side is the symbolic one#b. he healed an entire eye so it makes sense tht he'd heal other more minor injuries as well#c. tbh it's mostly based on what looked good i think this arrangement guides the eye across his face nicely#gave him a lil nose nick bc smth smth sukuna idk it's just there to balance things out#also as i said. the jaw and neck scar are there for kissing purposes i make the rules im salty and i do what i want smile#in other news thank u past hina fr doing those hair render studies im very happy with my yuuji hair as of late
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Hey did you know you got mention in RyeToast's Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Podcast?
The one about the timeline, in the michael section
JAWDROP… I’m so flattered actually
#ask reply#ITS SO CRAZY anytime mentions me in this fandom like how do you know me#ITS EASY to forget that people actually see and enjoy these comics#IM GLAD THEY LIKE my post scooped Michael design#WHICH btw i actually do believe Michael could be fully healed too#like remnant can just heal people and we even see it heal Michael instantly#in the walking down the street minigame#I mostly draw purple Michael cause it’s a fun design BAHA#I love messing with the zombie concept#love this I feel so honoured#so fearful to be known though too
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mor wavouge for da body for da soul for da economy
dont forget ur daily clicks!!
#the sapphics are saving my ass from permanent art block. it has been hell for me but yuri has healed me#do i liek the drawing?? nah but its a drawing and i havent done one of those while having fun in some time so#sth#sonic#sonic fanart#rouge the bat#wave the swallow#wavouge#nov.aart
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ERM I keep forgetting to post these sketches (by "forgetting" I mean cowering because I'm not confident in drawing these characters yet LOL) BUT figured it's finally about time. Just a couple time travel AU sketches vaguely based on this fic!! (sorry they're so purple I love purple)
I think the contrast in possible reactions is SO FUNNY TO ME! Stan and his journey to Being Chill.
#also Stan and his journey of healing but its also just becoming more chill#guys im trying so hard not to think about this too hard as i post i hope its not cringe AND IM BAD AT POSING SO SORRY IF IT LOOKS WEIRD AND#AAAAHHHHH#ok ill chill. ill chill.#i just love the concept of older Stan and Ford meeting 30ish Ford and Stan#the older and wiser going to the past is like yes. good.#also i just love time travel and time travel aus all around. its what doctor who instilled in me. its why i am WHO I AM!!#im done rambeling now aha aha aha. posting now! gonna hit post!! hitting post riiiighhhtt after these tags!#gravity falls#stan pines#stanley pines#ford pines#stanfordpines#uhh icr what this au is called#or i would tag that also erm oh well#sketches#sketch#my art
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wanderer in his season of healing makes me so happy. i love that he is safe enough to become softer again, that he is regaining some of his previously “weak” attributes and finding peace with them. he is becoming measured and introspective, and thinking before he speaks, perhaps a result of both his healing and his melancholy; i think it’s beautiful that he is finally able to safely feel his sadness and process the things that have happened. he is simultaneously finding peace and feeling all the difficult emotions he previously consumed with anger. it is painful, but right.
his sense of humor is still intact, certainly rough around the edges as you’d expect, though much less biting than before. it’s easy to tell that most anything aggressive he says is a front, a front that he is no longer concerned with presenting as absolute truth. perhaps the front is his sense of humor, and his affection is all thinly veiled behind jabs and sour grumbles—he is not willing to divulge the intimate details of that, however, preferring to leave it up to interpretation.
i just think of him and his healing and i feel like if he were to fall in love, it would be such a sweet and gentle and quiet sort of thing, just like his newfound peace. he ponders over many things, brooding by himself as much as he can, though he occasionally allows space for others to brood with him. that, i think, is something unique he may grow in. there are people who cannot tolerate strong emotions in themselves and certainly not in others—but he is the kind of person who can. he is the kind of person you could sit with and exist in your sadness and just be sad, and that’s okay. he’s not offering words of comfort or anything, but he doesn’t need to. anything he’d say would be useless anyways, he knows what it’s like and knows that a presence is enough and existing in your emotions safely is enough. he can appreciate someone who is straightforward about feeling unwell, who doesn’t seek pity, who is alright with sitting in the mud. he will gladly sit with you, then, as long as you don’t expect him to get all mushy about things.
he would do well falling in love quietly, not having to beat around the bush. naturally, pieces would fall into place, and he’d find himself yearning to be in the presence of another in a way he’d never before experienced. he had never really wanted to be around anyone, had never sought out anyone’s presence. but once he has been treated gently, has fallen softly into the arms of a likened soul who has the patience and understanding to touch his rough edges without recoiling, he finds his third space being with this new safe person.
and despite his reluctance to be anything but mysterious and nonchalant, i believe wanderer in his healing season would become quite the romantic. not in the sappy sense, but in the quiet love sense i’ve been talking about. firm and protective, subtle and gentle, almost gentlemanlike if it weren’t for his falsely rotten attitude he enjoyed projecting. romantic in a princely way, in a reverently respectful way, in a grotesquely wholesome way.
only the most chaste touches and kisses; he’s still getting used to affection, and would abhor pda. in private he’s much more open to being touched, because he is safe. if he is not safe, he is deeply conditioned to be conscious of his vulnerabilities, and it’s something that will take a lot of time to override, if even at all. but it’s a massive and beautiful step that he is even willing to receive affection at all, that he would want it from a partner in any amount.
hates eye contact, likes playing with hands. likes tracing veins and creases in skin and freckles and scars; he finds them fascinating, as he has nothing of the sort on his artificial body. one of his unique ways he shows affection is what could be called “studying” you. he likes to brood (with you there; perhaps it could be called parallel brooding) and take your arm and trace all the splotches, imperfections, veins, tendons he can find. he likes to touch more than he likes to be touched i think. perhaps he becomes amusingly selfish in this way. perhaps he is more averse to receiving than giving the affection because his disgust towards himself still lingers. perhaps he still has harmful core beliefs to unlearn.
i think he is full of a love that is strong and quiet, a love that he gives so sparingly, and only in pieces, never all at once. unless, that is, someone comes along and manages to drag it all out like a magnet—his carefully crafted exterior is in pieces, just like that! but oh, once someone is in possession of his love, he begins to know them so intimately, more intimately than he lets on. he so deeply knows who he loves and he knows how to give and to take action and so he does it, silently, for he is adept at perceiving the needs of his loved ones. reading body language and facial expressions is second nature to him at this point; nothing can get past him.
he studies you wordlessly with the expression of a cat who loves and reveres its human, except it’s the kind of cat who believes it owns the human, not the other way around. you’re his responsibility that he has taken on like an extension of himself because he loves you, and you have loved him, and now he hardly wants you out of his sight. his journey of rediscovery and learning self acceptance has been mentally and emotionally arduous, but ever since you came in and made loving him seem so easy, he’s felt much more at peace, and has had the capacity to reflect and process with much more freedom to sincerely feel.
stupid fictional character i hate him i hate him so much he is not real and i hate him
#just a bunch of thoughts. idk#i had a specific image in my head that invoked a specific feeling in me and i had hoped to arrticulate it and im not sure if i succeeded#its just that i think he would be so soft in his season of healing. i feel like a lot of people still mischaracterize him when we have been#witnessing him regain his capacity to be vulnerable and i just . if he were to fall in love it would be so . sweet. so good#i can only see him as this quiet introspective avoidant little specimen and i love him and he would be so lovely in love and loving someone#and being loved#mujimumbled#scaramouche#wanderer#wanderer x reader#scaramouche x reader#genshin x reader#genshin x you#drabble#wanderer drabble#character study#genshin impact scaramouche#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin writing
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These were meant to be warmups. ANYWHO!
Went to a random palette site and picked ones that were reminiscent of Wally's colors but still very different that I liked and grabbed some outfits to do a sort of challenge for myself. Idk, thought it would help me out of my funk.
Suffice to say, I'm feeling a bit better now~ These were really fun to do!!!
#welcome home#welcome home puppet show#wally darling#welcome home arg#WH Wally#welcome home wally#wally darling fanart#welcome home fanart#welcome home puppet arg#my art#Waaawwwyyy in a dreessss#Drawing the man to heal my soul#The top one feels so different from what I'm used to!!#Im usually so set on keeping my art soft but man doing something like this was kinda fun!!!#SHOUT OUT TO THEKNIFECLOWN for letting me steal their fit for the second piece!!!!!#limited colors also meant Wallys stuck with blue eyelids but ngl I find the blue so cute. A part of Wally's beta design I really really lik#Anyway its 5am and shoulda been in bed...AGES ago!!!#enjoy enjoy#sidenote please ignore that i just drew the same expression twice fjsjkdd god I didnt even REALIZE!!!!!
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I want it back / I drag its dead weight forward.
#Better drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#lan wangji#digital art#This was a style experimentation doodle that took on a life of its own.#In a way it is a great example of 'beautiful failure'. The original goal was to try a pure black and white contrast piece.#Which I very much failed at doing. Not quite ready for that! However what this turned into is something I like a lot!#Different but in a way that really pushed me as an artist. A little less simple; a little more proportional.#I was also recently thinking about LWJ's grieving that we only catch glimpses of.#LWJ grieved his first love for 13 years. His love that was never reciprocated.#He chose to dedicate his heart to that mourning and most painfully of all - he did so knowing there was no end to that grief.#Wei Wuxian comes back to life in MDZS but that is an exception. Not the expectation.#He was dead. Not missing. Not 'maybe in hiding'. He was dead and his spirit unreachable.#Jiang Cheng went forwards with denial but LWJ takes that grief on. He copes by continuing to carry the weight with him.#Let me be clear. Neither are healthy approaches. It is a way to cope but it does not mean that is healing or healthy.#Grief is loved transformed but it is also about endurance and letting go. Grief can change you. You can also change your grief.#It isn't a good or evil thing to experience. It is just an experience.
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i'm sorry, but the atla fandom is the only place where i've ever seen people unironically use a 12 year old telling his friend that killing someone out of grief is maybe a rash decision and not healthy to argue that that same 12 year old is being controlling and is an unhealthy partner
you guys know that murder is like....a bad thing....right? especially for a 14 year old? you guys know that revenge murder isn't a healthy strategy? you guys know that anyone who would encourage that is probably actually the unhealthy one in that scenario...right??
#and yes#this is about zuko and katara and aang#in the southern raiders ep#i've said it before and i'll say it again#blindly supporting whatever your friend wants is not a good idea#especially when its murder#it drives me crazy that aang is characterized as controlling for this#he literally says katara should go confront the man#he supports her healing 100%#he's just saying that murder won't automatically make her any happier#in the end she chooses not to kill him#so what are we getting mad at aang for???#sorry that the 12 year old pacifist didn't support cold blooded murder that would've undoubtedly traumatized his friend#ig he's evil for that one#aang#atla#kataang#avatar the last airbender#atla talk#atla meta#atla rant#the southern raiders#the southern raiders discourse#aang support squad#quillthrillsatlatalk
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please watch yugioh zexal
#every zexal fanart that comes from me is going to have this caption#please im begging every single yugioh enjoyer to give zexal a chance#its like dm but like 70s pop art and cyber aesthetics and the hair is even wackier#but the characters are so sweet and also its all about family trauma and healing from said trauma with the power of friendship#i love it so so much please give it a chance#yugioh zexal#ygo zexal#yuma tsukumo#astral#YUMA MY BELOVED !!!!!!
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Let's talk about that CaitVi Scene
For me, what made this scene impactful has to do more with the fact that the prison cell is the physical representation of Vi's mind more than the fact that it's where they first met. (Although the latter does add merit to Fortiche's capacity for telling circular narratives.)
We know this because we see Fortiche use this same motif in S108, where we see half of Vi behind bars and the other half unobstructed, which signifies how Vi is torn between going back to help her sister and helping Caitlyn take the gemstone back.
In this context, though, Vi is shackled by the mantra, “Whatever happens, it’s on you,” and we know this because Vi admits it herself, “I choose wrong every time. And because of it, I’ve lost everyone.”
And the implication of Caitlyn unlocking this cell and entering this space—this space filled with emotional and physical scars, this space haunted by phantom pains and memories with teeth—was just like an “I got you” moment, the perfect affirmation that finally releases Vi from the shackles of this inherited responsibility.
Caitlyn not only predicted it, but she actively took measures that enabled Vi to free Jinx safely. By doing this, Caitlyn implicitly confirmed that Vi didn't choose wrong this time and that she wasn't alone in the decision to offer Jinx a second chance.
I know some people have their own opinions about them doing it in a jail cell without explicitly talking about what happened between them in Act 1, but as much as I appreciate the idea of open communication, romance, and making love in a bed, I understand why they saved the talking for later. After all, facing imminent doom and Armageddon can influence people to rush into things.
All jokes aside, there is one thing about this scene that makes my heart ache with joy: that Vi finally has one memory that outshines all that was made in the prison cell. And that memory is of warmth, a gentle touch, and soft eyes—the only memory that matters.
And for me, that's enough.
#caitvi#caitlyn kiramman#vi#arcane#arcane season two#arcane spoilers#spoilers#this was a reply to someone a few days back but i just thought id post it as its own cause the other one takes up wayyy too much space#and it still makes me want to sob to think about the years of torture vi had to endure in a cell#and the fact that her last time is filled with so much warmth and love and softness#with gentle hands soothing the edges of those healing wounds and tracing the path to tomorrow#kali rambles#mine#not art
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yea
#i had posted this everywhere and it occurred to me that i hadnt on tumblr. which seems like a crime#keith kogane#vld keith#vld lance#vld fanart#lance mcclain#voltron#klance#can i rant for a bit#grabs the microphone Id like to thank this huge step on my voltron healing journey to my mom#who said 'oh its that show that made you cry in frustration! the kitties!'#and i said 'yes mother i was 15'#i dont think ive ever felt so. like. bullied? i dont wanna say ridiculed but#by a shows' producer#not since fucking BBC SHERLOCK#and i dont mean oh of course it wasnt gonna be canon. Of cours it wasnt I dont mean that#what i didnt need was getting baited left and right#the show milked the shit out of. lets be real here. young queer kids and then turned around and pointed and laughed when they gained hope on#their silly red blue ship to get canon#bc lets be real if anything queer was gonna happen. ambiguous non binary pidge was already there#two skinny attractive teen boys is like low hanging fruit. diet rep#but it wasnt even abt that. at least i truly never thought klance was srly gonna b canon. i HOPED. but like. i never shipped 4 canon anyway#i LIKED voltron. i loved lotor. i had always been a multishipper allur//ce was rkly cute i couldve dug that#if they hadnt spent the last season looking miserable AND THEN DYING#tf u mean our female lead died TF U MEAN THE LATINO MC BECAME A FARMER? w the forever marks of his dead gf on his face? Are you joking rn???#anyway. hit me up for more voltron opinions i got tons#(mic drop)
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(totk rewritten)
finally, all the arm and spirit abilities- for the first half of the game (rauru) and for the second half with the shiekah arm replacing links arms instead and the spirit abilities gained through ganondorf
(please excuse my handwriting and sometimes repeated info on the first two, i lost motivation/patience at the end and couldnt get myself to basically redo it all from scratch just to make it a bit more cleaner)
note, the camera rune is unconnected to the arm, its the shiekah stone copy link has (zelda carries the one from botw, a copy was attempted to be made for link but it lacks all runes except the camera, the map and its teleportation, and journal/archive)
note for the heal effects of some spirit abilities- im also reworking the healing system, making it more like the older games, so healing isnt as easy and much more restricted, thus making those effects of spirit abilities more valuable ( lil potion icon on the d pad will act a little bit like in skyward sword, opens your limited selection of healing items and if chosen link switches to holding it and letting you consume it with -a- while walking around in real time- to avoid more pausing and mass healing on regular items while in menu)
additional note, the automatic recharging of the magic meter depending on the environment gives you a reliable but less abusable way of using abilities and allows for even more creative dungeon/challenge design by using it effectively- it works by absorbing magic from its surroundings, so if its an area with little magic it recharges slower, if its a very spiritual or healthy place it will recharge faster, it can be used to make things more challenging and also as subtle storytelling (example, theres a graveyard with the magic energy around being off the charts, even if there are no spirits to see, it could hint at the people buried not having died peacefully, no matter what their gravestone says...)
the usage of magic and how much the different abilities cost also allows for a much more dynamic fighting style for players to choose and try out, balancing them all out with their cost instead of a fixed timer, and the recharging beign affected by the environment perhaps forcing players that favor high cost magic abilities to use the lower cost ones for example, or not being able to charge one up bc the enemy is too fast and doesnt give you enough time to charge it
about half of the small overworld dungeons (not shrines) are also locked/inaccessible for the first half and new quests appear as the second half commences- together with the additional changes raurus return brings with it (sonau buildings, enemies being mostly cosntructs that he summoned etc) and whole set of new abilities giving you a fresh new way to play while (hopefully) not making you feel too restricted for the first half
... making these detailed concepts took me longer than id like to admit q-q
#ganondoodles#zelda#ganondoodles rewrites totk#tloz#art#concept art#loz#ok im gonna play some games now#might do future concepts more with clean text#so i dont even get into the situation of having to redo everything jkdfkd#also im not a game designer so if i got any game designers following me id love to hear what you think#THOUGH theres alot of other mechanics missign here#like the weapon repair system- the new healing system in detail- the mini dungeons that arent shrines again- the pockets to find to-#-expand your inventory instead of krog poop- etc etc#ngl so nervous about posting this bc i know its less appealing than the full art pieces#but how am i gonna get mechanics across if not like this#i dont even know what to tackle next lol#everything plays into each reworked system so theres always gonna be soemthing that seems off on its own#but i cant put it all into one post bc that would put the colors of the sky post to shame how long it would be kjbgvkdbngkk
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