#perhaps the most annoyed on main i have ever been. i really am not an angry guy but i just don't get it.
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
i am generally not a hater but my most serious internet beef is with that fucking fashion twitter guy (dieworkwear). EVERYONE is always POSTING HIM so i have to keep seeing it... WHY?! it's classism with the thinnest coat of progressive paint. And I don't simply mean "money to buy nice clothes", though obviously that's part of it, I mean that fashion itself, especially fucking Business Attire, which is what he is often posting about, is literally just class signalling. The whole concept of what you "should" wear season-by-season is very intentionally and clearly a class signal, the rich wear it first and they know about it by their proximity to elite tastemakers and once it gets down to the middle class and the working class something else is popular with the rich so that they can once again differentiate themselves from the "lesser" groups. That's how it has worked for centuries upon centuries. That's how it will continue to work. Class is not solely money, it is about the circles you associate with/who you know. I have no problem with posting about fashion and it's a subject I am curious about despite not knowing much of. I have a problem with giving it this progressive spin he's always trying to give it like right-wingers are out of touch for having a suit that fits weird or making bizarre/ugly clothing choices. The one who is out of touch is you. I know i have made a post complaining about this before but I'm doing it again because i keep seeing it!
#cal txt#perhaps the most annoyed on main i have ever been. i really am not an angry guy but i just don't get it.#making a progressive statement and saying that someone's clothes are out of style or ill-fitting are mutually exclusive#you can do both but you cannot do both IN THE SAME STATEMENT.#politics
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ok I bitch a lot about people hating Diantha but the arguments I see against Geeta are also really annoying
Firstly: 98% of people who dislike Diantha or Geeta end up comparing them to Cynthia at some point. Stop it. Cynthia is INCREDIBLE, and was my favorite champion for a very long time, but I don't see fans holding the male champions to the standard of Cynthia nearly as much as I see people do with Diantha and Geeta. Please ask yourself why you do that. Figure yourselves out.
Secondly: the argument that Geeta hate is somehow more justified and "encouraged by canon" because a fair amount of gym leaders dislike her to some extent is plainly stupid. I am sure, then, that you have absolutely loved every boss you've ever had and been 100% happy with how they manage things and that most workplaces are not at all inherently miserable to some extent. Because of course, most institutions under which we work all have the best interests of the employees baked into the very fibre of how they operate and that burnout is not at all rampant at any job you go to. You are so right, it is all absolutely a reflection of just Geeta and her personality. Christ. 🙄
Thirdly: I get really tired of "the battle sucked" as the main argument to dislike a character. Sure, if that's all you want to base your opinion on, then fine. Not going to stop you. But I do think you are intentionally robbing yourself of some genuinely interesting characters and how they might potentially influence how you interact with a piece of media when you pointedly choose to only focus on one aspect of them. Hell, you can still see Geeta as just a bad boss who tortures her employees (loser mentality, but you do you), but that's still something to work with and makes for an interesting character when explored further and in relation to other canon characters. You can hate her, but she is far from boring.
Fuck, you don't need to like Geeta, you don't need to like Diantha. I acknowledge it is harder to get into Diantha's character due to her very limited appearance in the games, but I don't see people making the same arguments for Lance, who has the canon personality of a sheet of cardboard, or for Leon, whose entire characterization is "Unbeatable Golden Boy Champion Man." At least Diantha has a canonical acting career, and is extremely busy in her life, which makes a good argument as to why she is so absent in the games. Already that gives so much context to who she is as a person and why she is the way she is. I would argue that perhaps it is more a reflection of your lack of creativity or lack of willingness to be creative with character interpretation.
You don't need to like these characters. But the same arguments I see made against them are for the most part thoughtless, boring, and pretty misogynistic.
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
SIDE PLOTT - PURE HEDONISM - PART 1 🔞 - 𝙶𝚎𝚗 𝟼: 𝚅𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚍 -
heat level: 🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶 (It's Smut with a Plot) content warnings: simdick, choking, graphic depictions of gay sex, I'm literally warning you now!!
Forward: This scene is something that I wanted to write anyway for the main plott eventually, and the PG-13 parts will end up popping up again in the main storyline - but for Valentines smut sake I thought it would be fun to jump ahead and take way farther than reasonably necessary. Godspeed. Don't say I didn't warn you. PART ONE: ( The One with the Plott, Rating PG ) PART TWO: ( The One with the Smut, Rating R )
[ 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟏𝟎 ] Shortly after finding himself on the receiving end of the beratement of a lifetime, Valerian announced to that perhaps it was time for everyone to get some rest.
And yes, perhaps it was just a hurried excuse to retreat upstairs with his metaphorical tail placed firmly between his legs- but so what? He much preferred the comfort and privacy of his own bedroom anyway.
There, to his relief he found his fiancé finishing up his nightly routine- cut short by both the lack of expensive creams- left in his room upstairs, and an incessant, tired kiss carefully placed in the crook below his jawbone; Val wrapping his stray arm around Chad's torso.
Val let out a frustrated sigh against his neck, his lips refusing to vacate their favorite spot. "That bad?" "You are hereby banned from leaving me alone with that woman ever again." he grumbled as Chad let out a small snort in response.
"Sunny's tucked in?" "All taken care of. Now it's your turn, wash up- it's been a long day." "You are too good to me." "And don't you forget it."
Chad pulled the taller man down to meet his height, rewarding him for the day's bravery with a warm, familiar, and well practiced kiss before pushing him towards the shower.
Valerian conceded to being undressed by his fiancé, layers of expensive wool and tweed crumpling to the ground unceremoniously as he was placed under a running shower head- hot water washing away the pent up stress. Turning, he saw a dark cloud pass over his partner's face.
"Something is bothering you." It wasn't a question. After years together Val could place a meaning to Chad's every tick and glance. If asked, he could chart a map of his face, noting every wrinkle with a time and place of origin. "Is it that easy to tell?" "Distractingly so."
Chad's thoughts flashed back to his conversation earlier in the evening- Poppy was right, per usual. Had it really been 10 years? "I've been thinking-" "A dangerous practice indeed." Val flashed a wry smile as he maneuvered past him towards the main portion of the bedroom.
"Valerian-" "I don't understand how you can tolerate that insidious woman." "Val, she's your sister." "Don't rub it in. Coming in here like she bought and paid for the place, rattling off a list of my flaws and failures. This is my home damn her, I am happy- WE are happy."
Chad skirted around Val as he concluded his rant, silencing him with two hands placed on his partner's bare chest, still damp from the shower.
"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." "Please do not tell me you actually agree with that wretched snake of a woman."
"Valerian, how long have we been together?" "Ten years, two seasons, and thirteen days," he replied with no hesitation, as if he had been running a counter to keep track, "Leanne can provide you with a more accurate estimate if required." "No, no, that's fine."
"Val, do you remember the promise you made me in that elevator, 10 years ago? Do you remember what you told me?"
"Ten Years, two seasons, and thirteen days-" he corrected him, in a way that most sane people would find annoying. "But yes, of course." he finished.
Chad drew him in close again, their heartbeats complementing one another as they often did.
"Valerian Plott, will you marry me?"
"Took you long enough."
Before Chad could even attempt to pull the man closer for a kiss to finalize the moment, Val had sprung back with a newfound energy and vigor, addressing the house AI directly.
"HANSEL please inform Leanne that her presence is requested immediately."
"You called?" "FUCKMEwheredidyoucomefrom-" Chad yelled, nearly jumping out of his skin details, as Leanne appeared to instantaneously materialize behind him like some sort of electronic ghost.
"Yes, thank you Leanne." Valerian replied coolly, unfazed by her rapid appearance. "Mr. Chinsley has just informed me that he wishes to resume the nuptial process." "Very good sir, shall we begin with the vows then?" Chad hurriedly cut them both off.
"What!? Not RIGHT NOW!"
Val studied his partner quizzically. "Correct me if I misspeak, but did you not just directly express to me you'd like to finalize our long delayed marriage?"
"But- there's a whole process! Paperwork to file, things to plan!" Chad shot back, visibly confused at how the moment had devolved so rapidly. "Correct. Vexus has kept the documents on retainer until he received final confirmation from Party B- that would be you Mr. Chinsley."
The cogs started to turn in the back of Chad's cerebral cortex. "You've had the documents… filed." "Yes sir." "For how long exactly?" "Ten Years, Two Seasons, Twelve Days, Sixteen Hours, Thirty-Six minutes, and 12, 13, 14, 15 seconds. We've had to re-file after every patch."
Chad slowly swiveled back to meet Val's steel coated irises once again. "You're psychotic."
"Thank you for noticing Agent." Val raised his eyebrows, amused at the compliment. "Now, shall we continue? Leanne please pull up the vows on file. Draft D6 Please." "Right away sir."
The supervillain readjusted his gaze to that of his partner, confidence dropping slightly as he finally paused to study Chad's reaction.
"You're upset."
"Valerian, tell me truthfully- when I asked you to marry me, did you think I meant right this exact moment?"
"Well obviously," the villain replied plainly, before continuing, "But if you wish to include Helianthus in the process, I can have HANSEL wake her up and send her down-"
Chad cut him off, moving forward slightly to place a hand on either side of the man- steadying him for what he would say next. "Valerian, I want a wedding."
A heavy anticipatory silence that fell over the room, as the Agent waited for a response from his fiancé.
"Oh."
Chad watched on as Val's countenance grew dark- a familiar weather pattern rolling in, his cold eyes growing stormier- as a thundercloud raged behind his glasses.
He slowly released his grip, the look was familiar to him of course- Valerian was not processing this request well.
He readjusted his focus to his assistant, who had been silently observing the interaction with the AI approximation of befuddlement. "Leave us."
A simple order but one that lashed out from his mouth like tropical lightning snapping the branch off an unlucky tree. "Yes sir."
( CONTINUES TO PART 2 🔞 )
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
VH - Lost Soul
(tw: it’s backstory time for Vampire Hero, and it isn���t very nice. Lots and lots of torture mentions.)
Vampire Hero was in hell, although not for the reasons Villain thought.
According to his watch, he’d been trapped in this maze for hours. Amid the many gifts his vampire nature had given him, a sense of direction wasn’t among them. He’d tried to punch the walls, but that would have taken too long to burst through them. They were even thicker than the skull that had thought of such a stupid thing to build. What he could do was leaving a dent to make sure that yes, he’d been there before. He had his phone on him, but there was no wifi, so no way to use his GPS. He had very little battery left anyhow– he had emptied most of it to send his wife pictures of bats on his way, which was as far as he was concerned a very good and judicious use of it. All of that was already a bore, but to make the game even funnier, the labyrinth was full of traps.
Full of pathetic traps. The ground collapsed under his feet, rocks were falling on him, all of that accomplishing nothing – but it was annoying enough that it disrupted his concentration, preventing him to find a way out. That was not the main problem, though. There were screens everywhere, too high to reach, and Villain. Never. Stopped. Talking.
“What is good and evil ? Do you know for sure what the limit is ? Good is supposed to follow the law, but is the law always good ? Isn’t it pride to do what feels right ? You think you want to stop me, but aren’t you being selfish by doing what you want ?”
She’d kept going like that for hours now. Nails on a blackboard would have sounded nicer. Not only the words were as hollow as a dead snail, but the inflection of that pompous voice was unbearable. Vampire Hero was seriously tempted to hit his head against the wall to stop hearing anything, but that didn’t seem like it’d work in the long term.
At his limit, he stepped up, his lips pinched, and finally yelled back:
“Four words. Grow the fuck up.”
“That’s all you have to say ? You’re not much for philosophy.”
“You call that philosophy ? I hate to break it to you, but knowing that good and bad are social constructs is not some kind of genius insight. All I see is a kid yelling at me that she’s very smart. You don’t give a crap about all of this. You just want to prove to yourself how very superior you are.”
“Do you think you’re better than me ?”
“The bar is low.”
“Oh, because you’re good now ?”
Vampire Hero stopped dead in his tracks:
“Even before, I was better than you."
He raised his arms and bared his teeth, his voice loud:
"You think that you’re bad ? You’ve got nothing on me ! I lured people and made them dance with me over broken glass. I had them rot blindfolded in animal cages for days until they had to lick their own blood. I had cozy nights with them having a friendly little chat in the living room while I was drinking from a corpse, and they knew that if they broke they were next. I made them starve and eat their loved ones. And I loved it ! I loved all of it ! I loved the light dying in their eyes. I thought I was clever ! I am half the reasons you’re shaking at night !”
“Zdiiiiiiiingbonnng,” made the rock on Hero’s head. He sighed in exasperation and stopped talking, wiping gravel from his hair.
“I know about you.” said Villain. “The hero agency’s lackey. Aren’t you ashamed ? You were a great prince, once.”
“Actually, I never was really tall.”
“Go ahead, hide yourself behind this kind of childish retorts. But admit it: you’ve sunk low. You arrest people who weren’t caught like you and you bring them to the authority, like a good dog. Has it ever occurred to you how much of a failure you’ve become ?”
“No.”
“Then why did you stop ?”
“If I tell you the story, will you finally shut up ?”
“Perhaps.”
“Worth it.”
Vampire Hero jumped over a couple of spikes, groaned when he realized that his jeans had a new hole, and said:
“Once upon a time, asshole, I was living happily in my castle all alone. I was rich, I was immortal, I had everything I wanted, and what I wanted was a lot of toys.”
He glanced around him, noticed nothing that indicated he was on the right path, and sighed.
“By toys I mean humans, of course. I chose among the prettiest, kindest, bravest, and I tortured them to death. I hurt them until they didn't have anything to break. I was good at it. I experimented things that would give you and all of you so-called Supervillains nightmares for years. But, you know. Decade after decade, still doing the same thing – I was getting bored. I felt empt- aw man, a dead end again ?”
He turned on his heels, swearing. That was obviously the wrong way to solve his problem. The walls were smooth and impossible to climb, so it had to be arranged. He caught a rock and throw it against the hard surface with a little more strength than necessary.
“Well, anyway. I heard there was a great conqueror who wanted the world. I made my first travel since decades, by curiosity. I wanted to see by myself who could challenge me.”
“And you fought him and you lost ?”
“I told you to shut up. I met her, and not long after I was her lucky, lucky husband. I never had her ambition, but of course I supported her. She encouraged my own little hobby in return, so I became her special torturer. My life was even more perfect, and there was this void inside me, and I hated it, and I didn't understand it. And what happened happened. I tortured the wrong person.”
“Define wrong ?”
“It was the daughter of a vampire hunter.”
“A poor choice.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. The guy was really good at his job. He was already pissed off because of the world-conquering plan, but after I did that, well, he cursed my wife and I – oh, enough with this.”
Punctured by rock impacts, the wall in front of him wasn’t so smooth anymore. Vampire Hero took a run-up, jumped and landed on the top of it. He had a nice view on the labyrinth now. For the first time, he took the right direction.
“ That’s cheating,” complained Villain.
“I don’t care.”
“What then ?”
“What then ? I had a bad century. The hunter couldn't kill me, so he drank my blood to prolong his own life and tortured me. He got good at it, too. I felt what I’d made the others feel, but only at first – after ninety years it was back to nothing. I was 300 years old and reality was fading. I was a leech. I hadn’t made a thing for myself.”
“You mean you went soft because of a little torturing?”
“No. I got old. When you have a couple of centuries, this torture-people-to-death shit doesn’t have the same kind of kick anymore. You try to get creative, but it doesn’t help. You feel nothing. So there’s nothing else you can do but stop. And speaking of stopping, it’s your turn.”
Vampire Hero was now at the center of the labyrinth. He jumped to a silver door, decided he was too done with the whole thing to use the knob, and broke it open.
Villain turned towards him, a small smile on her face, and opened her arms in a welcome gesture:
“Behold, vampire ! This room have been made of silver walls and floor. You won’t be able to enter without squirming in agony and -
Vampire Hero stepped in. Villain braced herself for his cries of pain, but there was none. He still looked bored out of his mind. There was a long silence.
“That’s – that’s not possible.”
Hero laughed. A slow, sinister laugh that made Villain’s eyes open wide.
“What are you ?” she whispered. “You can’t be a vampire. You should be crawling on the ground.”
“Don’t you listen ? I told you I’ve been tortured for decades. You know what an immortal body does when it regenerates back for the hundredth time ?"
He pointed to himself. There was a subtle change in his appearance. He still looked like his unimpressed self, but his usual lightness was replaced by something much darker. It was his eyes. Staring into them was like gazing into some horrible, nameless abyss. There was nothing human about them. They could only belong to some ghastly creature who'd lived centuries, not particularly nice ones.
Vampire Hero chuckled, and Villain shuddered.
"It gets tougher," he only said. "I’ve lost touch and taste. I feel nothing. Nor warmth or cold, and certainly not pain. My body is cut from the outside world. There's not much that feels real to me. You know what it is?”
He walked towards Villain, who took a step back and said:
“I hope you realize you’re monologuing yourself.”
“Habits die hard. I want to go back tonight and kiss my wife on the top of her head, just in the middle. It’s our habit. That’s all that matters. If I have to be on this side to support her, so be it. I don’t care about evil or good, and it won’t prevent me to eat your vocal chords if you’re off again. So, are you going to keep talking or finally shut the hell up ?”
“You know what, I think I’m good.”
*
Vampire Hero is a recurring character. His job is to troll current villains. Check the Vampire Hero Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with him.
Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.
#hero x villain#hero villain community#writeblr#writers on tumblr#original fiction#my writing#writing snippet#writing drabble#writing dialogue#villain and hero#creative writing#vampire#vampire hero#hero and villain#heroes and villains#fucking finally#this snippet took way too much time and effort let me tell you#I’m sorry villains saying they’re very clever because they know *morality is relative* is a berserk button#no fucking shit genius#it gives me euros holmes flashbacks#“good and evil are not real things I found this all by myself look at me that makes me so fucking clever I’m basically an X-man”#gaaaah#Moffat’s characters were never dumber than when he wanted to show off How Clever they were#anyway.#I’m calm. I’m cool. I’m calm.
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
Missing you
Lan Wangji has been spending most of his time in the library pavilion ever since a particular event has taken place - of course, few people would make the connection, but Lan Xichen knows his brother far too well not to. Though the teen might appear aloof and distant, divorced from worldly matters almost, he is nothing but, a whirlwind of emotion storming behind an impassive façade.
It is an hour before curfew, and light still faintly emits from one of the library's large windows. Lan Xichen walks in, carrying a tray of tea and dried fruits for his brother to snack on.
"It is late, Wangji." Xichen begins as he pours a cup of tea for him, "You've been working here all day, you need to rest."
"I am fine." Wangji responds, flat and simple, as he copies down something from a cultivation manual. Lan Xichen picks up one of the notebooks on his brother's table to sift through, and he sees, from the corner of his eye, the way Wangji seems to tense up.
Xichen smiles, kindly, knowingly, as he reads the contents of the notebook - The Rules and Etiquette, written by none other than Wei Wuxian, the familiar signature at the end of the last page. The notebook is already annotated, mistakes are few and far between, and it is customary that the notebook be sent into the sect's archive. However, Lan Wangji seems to have wanted to keep it - and while it is not against the rules, it is not usual either.
Lan Xichen carefully closes it and places it on the table. "If you miss young master Wei, you can always write him a letter."
Lan Wangji's ears flush red instantly, and he glares at his brother much like an offended bunny. "Ridiculous."
"It's not. The two of you have spent quite some time together, and young master Wei appears to have taken a liking to you-"
"Nothing like that."
"-so I think he would be happy to hear from you, Wangji." Lan Xichen continues, undeterred. His little brother looks both murderous and flustered, and he has to try not to laugh at the adorable expression on Lan Wangji's face.
"We are not... close." He finally replies, pretending to have returned to his task. It is quite visible he didn't like saying those words, the grip on his brush unforgiving.
"Even so, you have studied together and shared precious memories. It is not a sin to miss people, Wangji."
Lan Wangji says nothing in response, wrestling with his brother's words. Of course it isn't wrong to miss people, Wangji misses... he misses a lot of people already, it's just that... does he really miss Wei Ying too? Wei Ying, who's noisy and annoying and frivolous and opinionated and audacious and... and strong and intelligent and beautiful and playful and creative and...
Lan Wangji's frown deepens, and he's only pulled out of his inner torment by the brush in his hand snapping.
Xichen hides a laugh in a cough, and hands his brother a new brush and some letter paper. "I'm sure he misses you too."
Wangji glares in place of a response.
Xichen decides to change the topic.
"Uncle has informed me we will be participating in the archery competition in Qishan this year. We begin training tomorrow."
"Mn. Only us?"
"A few others as well, but we are the main representatives." And Xichen hopes his smile isn't as mischevous as he feels it. "I have heard that the Jiang sect is going to send in young master Wei and Jiang Wanyin, as well."
Wangji does a poor job at concealing his interest in that piece of news - and he looks away, embarrassed, when Xichen imperceptibly lifts an eyebrow.
"Anyway, I will be going now. Please don't stay up late, and perhaps consider what I told you. Holing yourself up in here will not help you miss young master Wei any less, quite the contrary."
Xichen graciously and quickly leaves before his brother can react, partly because he isn't sure he can hide his laughter anymore, partly because Wangji looked just about ready to toss a book his way.
Still, Xichen hopes he's given his brother something to think about, and maybe a tiny bit of courage to reach out to his... friend.
Yes, that's the term Xichen will stick with for now, even though it's not the best fitting. Perhaps Wangji will realize this soon, as well.
95 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello hello I gots some questions if you don’t mind
So we know some hybrids from different sub species that are in relationships like Lizzie and Joel and doc and etho but I was wondering if there were any specific sub species that only stay with their own type of sub species? And if there is, do or would they ever give others who are from the same sub species as them a glare if they saw a person from their same sub species in a relationship with a hybrid or mutant of different sub species? Example: Joel and Lizzie, would any of the cat hybrids ever do a double take on her being married to a butterfly hybrid? (I know they probably wouldn’t but this was for the sake of an example)
Is there a number in mind for how many different types of sub species are living in the under city? Or would it be like trying to count each specific m&m in a large bowl? Is there too many sub species to count or would you use a broad number like for example 1000 to get your point across?
Are there other new types of sub species you have in mind but haven’t talked about yet? (Ignore this question if it’s a large spoiler LMAO)
Are there any other sub species that have a bad reputation? I’m aware that creeper hybrids are know to be intimidating and most avoid them (at least I’m pretty sure) but are there any hybrids or mutants that when people learn what sub species they are they immediately hate and or dislike them? If so why or how did they get such a bad reputation?
(I really hope my questions weren’t annoying I just really enjoy your work and I had some questions!))
(I also apologize if any of these questions have been asked before)
Hello, hello! I never ever mind questions, I absolutely love them! Thank you for sending them over! ☺️
Alrighty, let’s see what we’ve got! 🏃♀️
1. Not really, no, or at least, I never intend to explore that. I think the closest we might get are perhaps blaze-borns or warden mutants, both of whom are known for being very solitary and keeping to their own areas, not usually living in the main cavern, but I don’t think there would be any sort of dislike/unhappiness from anyone if someone of that subspecies dated/married outside of it. The under-city is big, yeah, but it’s not that big so it’s always been common practice for people to mix and match. It’s just been growing more common than ever thanks to how Doc and Etho’s work has been connecting the various levels of the city like never before!
2. I think the m&ms in a bowl allegory is the best…there’s a LOT of them, I don’t want to put any sort of number on it just for the sake of IRL reasons, which are that I do make up parts of this AU as I go along, and I’d hate to give myself some pre-determined boundary for how creative and crazy we can get with all of these hybrids/mutants…so let’s just say A LOT and leave it at that.
3. YES and that is ALL I WILL SAY 😆
4. I think ‘bad’ reputation is the wrong way of putting it. No one necessarily has an immediate hatred for another based solely on subspecies. I mean, Ren and Lizzie are friends! And they’re literally a dog and a cat! But there are other sorts of reputations that can carry with someone’s subspecies. There’s Doc, of course, who we know is a sweetheart and a gentle giant but people are afraid of him because he’s nearly seven feet tall and terrifying-looking, that’s not his fault, though…and the augmentations aren’t exactly helping. 😭 We will also be learning more about dog hybrid clans with Ren, the deep dark with Cub, and blaze-born pyres with Tango, so through that I hope to show a bit more nuance in the traits and tendencies of all these various subspecies, because it is quite a lot of fun!
They were not annoying! I PROMISE I WILL NEVER FIND QUESTIONS ANNOYING! You’re giving me an excuse to ramble about a thing that lives in my brain and forced itself out in the form of a fanfic series, I am delighted so if you ever have any more questions send another ask! I will be happy to answer! (unless it’s spoilers but then I’ll just say that) so yeah! I’ve been having so much fun with the blog and the asks and the posts and stuff! So thank you for coming by! 💖
#fanfic#ao3 fanfic#hermitcraft#traffic smp#through the sky blue cracks#hermitshipping#trafficshipping#worldbuilding#life series#empires smp#docm77#cubfan135#tango tek#tangotek#rendog#ldshadowlady#joel smallishbeans#joel/lizzie#doctho
42 notes
·
View notes
Note
A vat7k related question
What do you think is Hugo's gender identity? Cus I want to hear what you think Hugo's gender is and the story behind it.
(I've answered a similar ask some weeks ago so I am sorry for the repeat, I hope it's okay)
With me, when it comes to label headcanons for characters, it always depends! I like to change it depending on the story I want (because sometimes it ties to the plot) and I enjoy every version of them.
◇ But I do have a main headcanon, so let's focus on that one :
I headcanon Hugo as a bigender transmasc. And I believe she is comfortable appearing feminine now BECAUSE he got to transition to a comfortable point for him. Transition he started pretty early on, even before figuring out his own gender. (Taking into account I think most pride labels doesn't really exist in-universe, like the words don't exist yet, queer people are a thing but they don't label themself the way we do now)
◇ As for the story behind it, I'll detail it a bit more than I did last time :
(I forgot if it was a "canon" thing or just widly accepted fanon) We know Hugo is an orphan, and I believe the orphanage he was in wasn't the best environnement ever and perhaps not well taken care of. So as soon as they could they would send the kids to work wherever they could and obviously the more money they made the better. My Hugo was afab and she quickly noticed being seen as a boy gave you more advantage in that regard more often than not. So she didn't want to be seen as a girl anymore and started transitioning the best he could at the time. It had nothing with how she felt about herself, it was purely about what seemed more advantageous.
When Hugo got recruited by Donella for the first time, it had been a long while since he last used a name at all so, upon deciding to take him under her wing, Don is the one who named him Hugo. She also helped him through his transition because over the years simply cutting his hair and binding wasn't enough anymore, which bothered him a lot and he was annoying about it. Thanks to Don, Hugo got to go quite far in his transition pretty quick and he's rather proud of it. Once he reached the point he's at rn he stopped because it wasn't worth doing more, plus he figured passing as a girl could be useful too and at the moment it wasn't hard to go from one gender presentation to the other. And she figured she actually didn't mind being a girl either, plus playing roles is super entertaining to him so not being limited by gender gave him even more possibilities.
Actually I don't think she sees herself as multigender, she probably thinks of it as another tool under her sleeves. He knows not everyone is at ease being anyone, so it gives him an advantage. He's everything at once, and he's very happy being his own thing. If asked he'd probably label himself as whatever feels best at the moment (or whatever's the funniest).
Maybe it does give her a crisis once she settles in Corona because she doesn't have to play a role anymore so she's confused and unsure on what is even left of her but that's another story
◇ And in case you wanted to know why I chose those labels : I simply don't see lots of characters headcanoned as bigender, or even multigender in general (genderfluid Hugo makes me SO HAPPY-), and since I am multigender myself it's something dear to me! Plus I wanted to have fun exploring different ways people view gender and go through their discovery journey, so every member of the gang has a different experience regarding theirs, and yet they all share that trans umbrella together :) in short, I am just having fun lol
#sorry for the wait TwT sorry if it doesnt make sense- I am eepy#in the end I kept it shorter than I expected. idk if you wanted more details or something? don't hesitate to tell me if so!#thank you for askiiiing!!! :D#eryanswers#eryanwrites#bloopblopbeepbop#Vat7k hugo#headcanons
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm perhaps one of the most easy to please Pokemon fans ever. I wouldn't identify myself as a nintendo fanboy or anything even though I love a lot of their IPs (largely because the number one prerequisite to being a "nintendo fanboy" is hating Nintendo more than anything on earth it seems), but I will be the first to admit my standards are much lower than they should be. I eat up everything Pokemon related like the blindly eager little consumer I am, I've beaten every main series game and damn near every spin-off.
All this to say I think it says something when even I haven't beaten BDSP yet, and not for lack of trying. But the game bored me to tears. I've reset my saves on that game more than any other I have in the hopes that "well, maybe the next file I'll be more attached to". I can eat my way through new Pokemon games when they first come out in a few days and never put them down, but whenever I'd put BDSP down I'd have to reset my file again when I picked it back up because I no longer cared about whatever I had going on.
I've been grappling with this for a long time, trying to figure out what it is about this remake that makes it the one Pokemon game someone as easy to please as me couldn't care enough to finish. I'll be fully honest when I say I'll happily take whatever table scraps Game Freak cares to toss me and I'm not proud of that fact lol. I love Gen 4, it's one of my favorite Gens, and I actually like the BDSP artstyle too, I think it's a fun way to keep the spirit of the original games, though it really would have been cool to see Sinnoh at full scale and free to explore in 3D.
But today after another attempted replay I think I figured it out. It's the dumb. Fucking. Experience Share.
Pokemon is a turn based RPG, battling is literally the main gameplay loop and I found that I kept putting the game down because I would get so incredibly bored by the battles. None of them felt necessary and all of them felt way too damn easy. Pokemon Scarlet/Violet had this problem too, I noticed, but what got me to finish those games was I'd never experienced the story before and I wanted to see it finished. But with BDSP I know the story, so why should I finish it if the battles are such a drag? In the original Gen 4 I'd make a point of battling every trainer on every route. I'm very meticulous about my leveling and my Pokemon all need to be within one level of each other, lol. So my incentive for fighting every trainer was to keep my team at a high enough level and also to keep my levels rounded out. But with that EXP share they're always rounded, or god forbid they have different growth rates and I have to keep putting Pokemon away to prevent overleveling which just bothers my OCD more than anything lmao.
It also makes me care so much less about my Pokemon. I cared about my team because I took time to individually raise and train each Pokemon, and if I don't care about my Pokemon then frankly I barely care about the game. In Scarlet/Violet where trainer battles have become entirely optional for the most part I barely did any of them! And in BDSP all I am is annoyed by the trainer battles. There's next to no new content to keep the game interesting and give me a reason to keep playing, and when the main gameplay loop isn't even fun anymore, why would I play at all?
I was worriedly thinking that maybe I'm just getting old and it's hampering my enjoyment of the games (Terrifying thought) but I have just as much fun with ROM hacks that I did with older games. Most notably, there's no broken EXP share. Can't we at least get the option to turn it off? I get trying to find a solution to make grinding less of a miserable drag, because grinding is always the worst part of playing Pokemon, but the broken exp share hasn't made grinding less tedious, it's just made battling as a whole feel hollow and boring.
I still want to beat you some day, BDSP, I really do. Nothing makes me feel sadder than being bored by a franchise I love and I know can do better.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yep. It’s been almost a week now, and I am still thinking about all the implications of August’s backstory that have been revealed, implications that I don’t think Once Upon A Time is actually going to touch on.
He was seven years old. At a guess, actually. Did the Blue Fairy tell him he was? Did Geppetto intentionally carve a child to be seven – no, six years old? Did they just judge based on his height and maturity level how old he probably was and went from there? Pinocchio may have been younger. Probably older.
He was seven years old and alone in a new world. And unlike everyone else, he did not get any new memories.
Everyone in Storybrooke was given fake memories about who they were, were told that this is where they had always been. I assume even Regina got fake memories so she could understand what everyone else thought, and also understand what a car is, although she knew her memories were faked. Perhaps if we got a flashback to just as the curse was enacted, they would be more confused about the world around them, but at the same time everyone was equally confused.
August had a seven year old’s maturity, and could only have existed for a year or two prior to that (and I refuse to accept that the whale and everything else happened when he was five, so let’s say Geppetto just underestimated his age), and was left holding a newborn.
His name was Pinocchio. He didn’t get a new name when entering the world, he kept his old one. When the people at the diner called the police and the social workers about two very small children, lost and alone, he told them that his name was Pinocchio. That is a name that has implications. At best, it meant his parents liked the fairytale.
How long did it take before he found out that everyone already knew his name? Did the police woman say, “Like the puppet?” or was it not until he got to the foster home?
Did the first social worker, in those first few days before they found an emergency placement (because babies are hard to place and the seven year old refuses to be separated, and despite what Emma thought about Hansel and Gretel social services actually will do their best to keep siblings together), figure that little Pinocchio might like the fairytale he was named after and put the Disney movie on? Hopefully, they didn’t have the DVD immediately available, and Pinocchio had already been exposed to the concept of a TV show first, because if the first movie he ever watched was his own life that would entirely break his idea of what TV was.
Pinocchio was a real boy. He’d be annoyed if someone made a reference to a puppet, and overall everyone’s main priority is making sure he and the baby are taken care of. So it wasn’t actually immediate that people realised little Pinocchio genuinely believed he used to be a puppet. The poor kid. Something must have happened to him that was so bad it broke him, that he completely repressed his real memories of how he came to be beside that highway and decided he was actually his favourite Disney movie.
The kid desperately needs therapy.
Pinocchio ran away.
He got caught again, only a few weeks later, but the old foster parents didn’t want any of the children who had left. He was too ashamed to ask for Emma, but the new foster parents weren’t prepared for an infant anyway. These parents were nicer, though. Still didn’t let him play with tools, but they let him play with Lego and they were building blocks that felt kind of like being back at his father’s workshop.
He was eight years old. He couldn’t take care of a baby, couldn’t take care of himself.
He went to therapy. People asked him why he thought he was Pinocchio, and he answered about his father and the Blue Fairy. He talked about the Evil Queen and her curse, but he didn’t really know the full details of it.
Some of the therapists indulged it, asked questions about the Enchanted Forest. Most of them didn’t, overworked and underpaid and part of social services, and told him – only sometimes gently – that magic wasn’t real. His father wasn’t Geppetto, he never spoke to a cricket or a fox or a cat, never was swallowed by a whale or almost turned into a donkey. One of the therapists got deeply interested when he mentioned being held in a cage, but she seemed to pull back a little when Pinocchio mentioned that Stromboni had threatened to cut him into firewood.
He was nine years old, ten years old, eleven. He’d worked out what a movie was, understood that most of them weren’t real. Some of the stories were familiar – he’d met Cinderella, had helped carve toys for her unborn child; Snow White once found him sneaking cookies from her kitchen and had distracted the chef so he wouldn’t be caught; Red Riding Hood had to babysit him once when his father and Jiminy had been called away. But the stories weren’t real, were they? He was on medications and therapy and was told day in and day out that fairies weren’t real.
How long did it take before a child, entirely alone in a different world and without any proof of his own, started to believe them?
He tried to check in on Emma as a teenager, but she’d been moved through too many other homes by then. Maybe he could have looked harder. He didn't.
He changed his name when he was ten years old, tired of everyone reacting to the word Pinocchio. He changed it again at eleven, and at twelve. He picked August Wood at fourteen, changed it again and then eventually came back.
He snuck out of curfew with no conscience on his shoulder. He took woodworking in school, got a job in fast foot specifically so he could afford to take weekly classes at the centre across the road.
He spent his second pay cheque on a marionette puppet on a whim. It was plastic, not wood. He’d had the idea of learning to move it, but it creeped him out for reasons he couldn’t answer. He wanted to ask it questions, but the puppet never replied.
As a kid, Pinocchio had been aware that the puppets in his father’s workshop weren’t alive, in the puppet show with Stromboli. It had always given him an undefinable feeling that he’d never managed to articulate anyway, watching those faces stare down at him.
August kept the puppet locked in his closet.
He got his first girlfriend at fifteen years old. They dated for a few months, and it went well, until in a moment of vulnerability he confessed that as a kid he had been convinced he was actually Pinocchio. She had thought it was cute until she realised that part of him, buried deep, still kind of believed it.
August grew out of the foster care system. He made a half-hearted attempt to track Emma down, but she wouldn’t have recognised him. He wasn’t even sure if she was real, either, but the baby on the side of the highway, at least, he found articles on. He could confirm she was real. He remembered her mother, and couldn’t quite picture Snow White as anything but the Disney princess.
He went out on adventures. He went out whale watching, and tried to convince himself that the panic attack was seasickness. He got a cat that he named Figaro. He went to Disneyland and, twenty years old, cried on the Pinocchio ride as they went through his own childhood, through a movie that he had seen a thousand times. He went on it three more times that day.
It was a game to go to every Disneyland park in the world, now, so he did it. He liked travel, liked to see the world. Every single time, though, no matter who else he went with or the amount of rollercoasters they went on, he’d regularly touch at his ears, checking that they weren’t growing into donkey ears.
August said that he was a writer. That could have just been a cover, a reason for why he was there. I’d like to think it was real. He wrote poems about growing up differently, poems people assumed were metaphors about being carved out of wood.
He had a couple of kid’s books, aged ten and under, that actually sold okay. They weren’t about Pinocchio, but they were about kids who travelled from a magical world into the real world, and had to learn how to survive. That series ended with the kids getting back home, however, having saved the day.
He tried to look for his real parents, the ones who actually existed, not Geppetto. Maybe the image in his head of a kindly old man really was his father. Real people in real life knew how to carve.
If Geppetto didn't exist, that meant he'd never broken his promise, right?
August, Pinocchio, was a child left alone in a world that told him his memories couldn’t be real. He learned to lie about them, keep himself away from questions, cut down his childhood into the parts that people believed, about carving toys and playing games. Part of him genuinely stopped believing, and part of him just learned to lie.
And then one morning, in Phuket, Pinocchio woke at 8.15 am to find that three of his toes had turned back to wood. The doctors couldn’t even see it, but an X-ray revealed something was very, very wrong. His toes looked normal to the naked eye, but there didn’t seem to be any bones in there. He got sent for more tests.
August didn’t take them. He fled the hospital instead. He returned to his hotel room, panicked but not actually being chased, and threw his medication in the bin.
It was real. He was really Pinocchio.
Be honest, brave, and unselfish and you will always be a real boy.
He’d broken the Blue Fairy’s promise, and the spell was breaking.
It took over a day for August to realise the real problem.
He couldn’t move his toes.
Geppetto was a master craftsman, and had put all his effort into it. Pinocchio had been carved with fully articulated joints, including the ones under his shoes. The toes still bent when August picked them up by hand, but he couldn’t move them consciously.
He stabbed his foot with a knife, peeled off chips of wood.
It was years ago, but August remembered that in the Enchanted Forest, he had felt pain. Not in the same way as he had as a real boy, but he felt it. He used to be able to feel things through his wood.
Magic didn’t work in this land, though. He wasn’t turning back into an enchanted puppet. Just a puppet. An actual, lifeless piece of wood. Piece by piece, his body was breaking down.
Storybrooke wasn’t that well hidden, honestly. It was easy to find once you knew what to look for.
He recognised people. He saw Geppetto walking down the street and froze. He actually didn’t recognise Archie until they’d already started up a conversation in Granny’s diner and nearly choked on his lunch. He worked out who the Blue Fairy was, and went to ask her for advice.
He hadn’t known what Emma grew up to look like, but he’d recognised her anyway from the moment he walked in.
-------- I mean, I'm only a single season in, but even if his backstory is given more detail, they're not going to actually explain every day of those twenty-eight years. He's been existing in the real world without the Enchanted Forest. Regardless of what else we find out about him, OUAT is probably not going to say that he didn't go to every Disneyland.
#why did this become a fic#not tagging because i know i'm wrong about so much of this#but i had fun writing this so who cares?
1 note
·
View note
Text
~ January's Books Reviewed ~
January was a good month in regards to reading. Due to a lack of other obligations I read a lot, including completing a series that I had started the previous year.
Oathbringer pt 1 & 2 by Brandon Sanderson
(635 & 756 pages)
I am absolutely obsessed with this series. I read it under recommendation from a friend actually here on tumblr and I'm so happy I did. Sanderson's world is incredible, his characters are beautiful and the plot is intriguing and captivating. I genuinely would go as far as to say that Sanderson might be one of (if not the) best fantasy writers I have ever read. I did enjoy the first book in this series (The Way Of The Kings) the most I think, however I loved the character development of Shallan in this book. I would highly recommend this series to anyone who enjoys fantasy or found family books. They are a big commitment and can be a little heavy getting into since it's a lot of world building, but I would say entirely worth it.
I gave both these books 4 stars ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
The Last Smile in Sunderland City by Luke Arnold
(316 pages)
I confess that I read this while waiting for the last Sanderson books to come so I was perhaps not in the head space to read something else, however I was a little disappointed by it. It wasn't bad by any stretch, however it was not what I was expecting. It was still a fairly light hearted mystery, however it was not as humorous as I was anticipating, and the mystery plot was strangely almost not the main focus, instead it became more of a character study, or political commentary. It was a really quick read however (I completed it in a day) and I'm glad I did read it. I'd recommend it to anyone who is maybe looking for a quick, easy first try at a fantasy book. The world building isn't as heavy as other fantasy novels and as it is a stand alone it's an easier first step into the genre than some other tombs of books!
I gave this book 3 stars ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
Rhythm of War part 1 & 2 by Brandon Sanderson
(659 & 742 pages)
I am not a crier generally, so when I say that the start of this book made me actually fully sob I hope that that acts as a stronger review than any words I could say. It was emotional and so well written, especially the depiction of ptsd and depression. I really appreciated how fresh the story still felt. This is the fourth book in this series and it would have been so easy to just keep working in a formula that Sanderson knew had worked with the big battle scenes etc, instead (despite the name: Rhythm of War), this story moved away slightly for the war and fighting and instead showed a different form of tension. This kept the story exciting in my opinion, especially as I am much more inclined towards reading more subtle/undercover style fights than big battles. Some story lines were more interesting than others, but overall I felt this was an emotionally draining and addictive finale to the series.... that is until I realised that apparently their might still be more to come?! Either way, my comments from the previous book remain - I would highly highly recommend this series.
I gave both these books 4 stars ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
A Sicilian Romance by Ann Radcliffe
(167 pages)
I know this is a classic. I know it is probably the original psychological horror. And I have so much respect for Radcliffe for that, however I did not find this book that enjoyable to read. It was simultaneously dreadfully slow and dull; and horribly complex. In theory, the idea behind it and the plot intrigued me but the characters were annoying and the style of writing was not engaging enough for me. If you like psychological horror books, I would recommend this, since it is where the genre started. It's a quick read for anyone who's wanting to tick classics off their list too.
I gave this book 2 stars ⭐ ⭐
The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake
(506 pages)
SOOO good! I loved the premise, and the characters are all so interesting and compelling. Some of them I despise with a burning passion, but in a good way! An incredible start to a trilogy as I finished filled with a desperate excitement to find out what happens next. I genuinely cannot reiterate how much I loved this book and how I would recommend it to everyone who in anyway feels inclined to reading anything in the realms of fantasy, mystery or general magic. I repeat: so so good!
I gave this book 5 stars ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
The Atlas Paradox by Olive Blake
(399 pages [hardback vers.])
Funnily enough, still so so good! I am obsessed with this trilogy and honestly the only bad thing about it might be the fact that I'm going to have to wait for the final book as it isn't published yet! I will say that I think I probably preferred the first one, but that is likely in part due to the fact that I read it a little quicker. In general, I find it is unusual to find a sequel that lives up to its predecessor so well like this. Again, I cannot recommend this enough.
I gave this book 5 stars ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
#book review#book reccs#claireelizabethsblog#brandon sanderson#oathbringer#rhythm of war#last smile in sunder city#luke arnold#ann radcliffe#a sicilian romance#olivie blake#the atlas six#the atlas paradox
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Before I get into it I just want to give a disclaimer: this is not a personal attack on anyone or me trying to gatekeep Danny Phantom. I am simply just airing some frustrations. This is all my opinion based on what I've seen from the current state of the fandom.
Also I'm writing this at 1am.
Now that that's out of the way, I'm really frustrated with the way this fandom acts at times. I've been a fan of this show for around 10 years now and only relatively recently came back to the fandom after being away for a while. It's nothing like what it was when I first got into the show, and I think that comes from the fact that a lot of people in the fandom haven't actually seen the show and have only read fanfics. And that is where I think the problems start to come up.
Now, ok, the show isn't for everyone. It's loud, has flashing colors, and certain parts haven't aged particularly well since its run from 2004-2007, and that's perfectly understandable as to why someone wouldn't be able to watch the show. I'm not faulting anyone for that. I only take issue when someone has a popular headcanon and a majority of the fandom acts like everyone agrees that it's canon and then get all up in arms when someone says they don't like that particular piece of fanon. I know in the grand scheme of things it's not that big of a deal, but it really bothers me whenever I see something like "I love how we all agree that [fanon]" or "so we all know how [fanon]"
Little things like ghost cores, haunts, obsessions are whatever I don't care that much, but when it gets into the territory of replacing fundamental aspects of the source material is where I have a big problem. See, I got back into Danny Phantom because I wanted to explore a darker take on the story that's a little more grounded in reality, but when every other thing is angst or torture or just treating Danny like a punching bag (most of the time written out of character), the idea really started to lose its luster ans made me hesitant to share my ideas.
The biggest issue I have though is with Wes Weston. Gonna be honest: I never liked him. I thought he was unnecessary from the moment I saw him. Then someone (I'm so sorry I forgot who it was) pointed out that Valerie was the perfect character to fill the role of the skeptic that tries to expose Danny, but the fact that the fandom wanted to focus more on an unnamed background character who happens to look like Danny was very telling.
Obviously I'm not saying that if you like using Wes that it automatically means you're racist. There's more nuance than that. I think what Wes does reflect though is just how much of the fandom just rejects the show? How so many people probably didn't even know about Valerie because perhaps she just wasn't in the fanfics they've been reading? Hell, I see more focus put on Dash than Valerie sometimes. Another one-dimensional white boy minor antagonist instead of a complex black girl anti-hero who is probably the best antagonist Danny has in the show AND the best love interest.
Also the overabundance of DC crossovers where Danny gets adopted by Batman are really annoying. I blocked every possible tag that could've gone with the crossover, but still somehow whenever I go through the main tag one sneaks through. Seriously between Frostbite, Clockwork, and now Batman why are y'all so obsessed with giving him a new father figure when you can just give Jack a better personality. Oh right because then you won't be able to write him vivisecting his son if he actually cared about him. Silly me I almost forgot!
Anyway thats why I only follow like 5 dp blogs and like 2 of them dont even post about dp most of the time. And schnuffel-danny my partner in chaos and shitposting. Gonna start a petition for a Danny Phantom reboot on the CW and make it the most edgy cringy shit ever and it'll have blackjack and hookers and Wes Weston is not invited.
#shut up casey#angery.#so very angery#about the ghost boy no less#not putting this in the main tag bc 1. its a vent post lmao and 2. i dont want a bunch of wes kinnies biting my head off sorry#also turning off reblogs just in case
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
wowww an essay thak you !
im assuming you picked the last option, which is like You need to do more than fanfarm
i agree with that one too, and i do think reading stories and having an understanding of the character you produce matter more than what you have of the character in the game. overall.
when i think of producing wataru, and what i want of him, i want lots of itabags and a truck full of nuis and every keychain thats ever been made
i also want a deep understanding of his character, i want to know him more so so so bad. ive read maybe 1/3 of the wataru stories so far
in the game i have 70k fans and am only missing a couple of his cards
ive been crazy about wataru everu day for over a year too
i was seeking peoples opinions and views, thank you for delivering so well 🙂
Hello! i’m glad that i didn’t annoy you with that essay in the notes haha
I actually picked the 3rd to last option, that the only requirement to produce is to like and pay attention. it most closely aligned with my view point that all you have to do it engage with the character on a regular basis, even if it’s not as grand as having a full ita bag or having 10k+ fans. since even if it seems small to me, like i said in my reblog, there’s so many different ways to enjoy a media like enstars that i feel like i don’t really have a place to draw a line on what’s “enough” to be a producer! i mainly used hyperboles in my “essay” to explain my point. honestly, as long as someone isn’t claiming to be a producer of a character then consuming literally 0 content of said character, not participating in any events, not pulling in gacha, and not even talking about the character regularly (basically not engaging at all) then i’m not going to say they aren’t a true producer of a character ^^ though i do understand your perspective.
my perspective probably comes from my relationship to enstars throughout the years. i started playing in late 2016 at age 12 and now in 2023 i’m 19 lol. i’ve always been a fineP, with tori being my first fave then wataru turning into my number 1 fave shortly afterwards. over the years my level of interest has fluctuated, with there being times of obsession and times of hiatus, but i’ve always come back to the same characters, to wataru and fine as a whole, you know? even during the times of hiatus, there’s never been a time where i didn’t consider myself a wataruP/fineP. same thing with the friends i’ve met through enstars, i’ve watched them leave and come back to the game (perhaps come back more casually), but i don’t see their love for their faves leave them. in my eyes, i still see them as producers for those characters.
sorry for giving my whole enstars back story lol, your post/ask just got me thinking about my relationship to enstars! ^^ very introspective topic.
to me, wataru is a character that has always brought me happiness. when i think about what i want out of wataru, what i think of first the is comfort and happiness he provides to me. i want to see him and i want to understand him as a character. he’s someone i relate to very much. i want his cards and i want to get merch of him.
right now i have all but one of his cards on enstars!! music (i missed his 7th anniversary card during a hiatus waahhh). i only have about 43k+ fans though (going for rank B rn) because like i said in my “essay”, collecting fans wasn’t really an aspect i really considered much or cared about, at least not until recently haha. (he’s on all my main teams, but they all got maxed out so i didn’t progress far after that). i was planning on making an ita bag for him/fine a few years back (even bought the bag for it) but uhh yeah that adhd slump hit and ive ran out of spoons for it ^^; it’s fine though i’m happy with my nuis and scattered merch
anyway thanks for the ask 👍 i think your perspective is very interesting and i liked hearing about how you view your relationship with wataru! sorry that this turned into another, even longer, essay i love talking about things. have a nice night/day :)
#mine#ask#i think this is the most i’ve ever ‘spoken’ at once on tumblr lol#i’m usually more of a lurker#my essays get saved for my ig and dms lol
1 note
·
View note
Text
Your First Kiss With Them: Prosecutors Edition
A lovely anon requested first kiss headcanons with both defense lawyers and prosecutors, so I'm just gonna do it in two parts.
Miles Edgeworth
It happens spontaneously with Miles.
You'd gone on a few dates already and he always walks you to your door, like the gentleman he is. When it's time to say goodbye, he lingers for a moment, as if unsure how to proceed. He always flakes in the end, leaving you after an awkward hug and a face that matches the colour of his suit.
One day you're just at his place. It's one of those lazy days when you order takeout and sit at home binging Steel Samurai. A funny scene comes on, something that leaves you both in stitches. It's such a sweet thing, seeing him laugh so earnestly, some colour rising to his face. You lean over and press a kiss to his lips almost instinctively and he freezes for a second and so do you once you realise what you'd done. You apologise awkwardly, fearing you'd crossed a line.
"What are you sorry for? I quite liked that," Miles laughs. "At least one of us has enough courage to act."
Franziska von Karma
Happens in the middle of an argument, most likely. Nothing serious, of course. You're just bickering over something silly and Franziska gets a bit too smug with her comebacks. It annoys you to no end, seeing that smarmy grin on her lovely face. You stand there for a second, feeling an overwhelming urge to-
"Why are you glaring at me like that? Just because I'm right doesn't give you the excuse to act like a f-"
Silence. Cut off by a kiss.
She's completely dumbfounded when you part. It takes her a moment to regain her composure.
"Well," she says eventually. "How foolish of you. Trying to win an argument through such underhanded tactics."
You keep on bickering.
She kisses you not two minutes later when she realises her argument makes no sense and you gain the upper hand.
Diego Armando/Godot
It's the classic scenario with him.
He takes you out for a cup of coffee one rainy afternoon. You sit at the coffee shop for hours, talking and laughing, enjoying each other's company. It's dark outside before you even realise it and he offers to walk you home. The conversation keeps flowing on your way to your place and you feel a pang of sadness when it's time to say your goodbyes. You tell him how much you enjoyed your date and he just casually leans in for a kiss that lasts a bit longer than you'd expected. There's no way your neighbours won't gossip about it tomorrow.
Klavier Gavin
He texts you to wear something warm before your date. You're confused but oblige.
Klav shows up on his bike to pick you up and it all makes sense suddenly. "Come on, Schatzi, I'll show you what a real adrenaline rush feels like."
He's true to his word. He drives you around the city, the cool twilight air rushing past you and you feel more alive than ever.
Eventually, he takes you to his favourite spot, a clearing overlooking the entire city. It feels surreal seeing all the city lights intertwine with the stars above. You sit on his bike while he stands in front of you, talking about something or another. It's hard to say who leans in first, but soon enough you're kissing. It's your first kiss together, then the second and third and fourth...
Simon Blackquill
You're just fooling around at his place.
Simon is a massive tease when he drops his twisted persona. He picks little fights and picks on you just to get you worked up. It's a mixture of endearing and annoying.
He puts on some stupid show you're not interested in one bit. Neither is he, but he'd rather tease you about it than change the channel.
"Give me the remote, Simon."
"Come get it, *insert dumb nickname*"
You try and fail spectacularly. It's just play wrestling, but that doesn't change the fact he's twice your size and can pin you down with one-fifth of his weight. Not that you mind.
You're both giggling breathlessly at this point. "Do you yield, miscreant?" He asks in his scariest prosecutor voice. Dumbass. "I yield, I yield! Just let me go!"
"You must pay the toll first," he deadpans, crossing his arms.
"And what is the toll?"
"A kiss, if I recall correctly."
You buy your freedom and he lets you up, handing you the remote and letting you curl up against him on the sofa.
You pay his toll a few more times during the evening.
Nahyuta Sahdmadhi
You're very hesitant to kiss Yuti.
He's a monk. You're not even sure it's allowed.
You start wondering if you'd perhaps been misunderstanding your outings. They were clearly dates, you thought, but then again he could merely see them as you acting as his tour guide to introduce him to your culture. You're very torn on the matter.
On your way home from dinner, you pick up some dessert. Nothing fancy, just cupcakes from a local bakery. You eat them at your place while trying to explain the concept of Netflix and chill to him. It's hard to say if he's scandalized or intrigued.
"These are so good! Would you like a taste?" You ask with your mouth full, perhaps overexaggerating your food-induced moaning.
He gives you one of those sweet, gentle looks he's known for. "Certainly," he says, bridging the gap between you, pressing the softest of kisses to your lips. You're confused by his actions but you'd be lying if you said you minded.
"What was that about?"
"Hm? Oh, that was a pick-up line, was it not? I've heard about those. Although I hear that one is usually used with flavoured lipgloss."
"Yuti, I was just offering you some of my cupcakes."
"Oh," he seems a bit embarrassed now. "Do forgive me then."
"I didn't say I minded. But you can't just go around kissing people like that."
"I'll jot that down in my 'How to act like a native' notebook."
Barok van Zieks
(Heavily inspired by my incessant bugging of @bailey-reaper from my main)
It happens during his University days.
Barok approaches you at a gathering, completely red-faced while Klint and Albert snicker within earshot. He asks you to dance with him in the most roundabout way possible, to the point where you're not quite sure what he's asking of you.
You agree and are surprised at how good of a dancer he is in spite of his initial and apparent awkwardness. Must be those long, elegant legs.
He takes you on a stroll after and you end up alone on a balcony. His initial nervous demeanour slowly melts away, although he's still more than a little shy. You chat away and you even get a laugh out of him at some point. It's one of your personal victories.
It's almost midnight when you are interrupted. "Ah, brother, there you are!" Klint van Zieks suddenly joins you on the balcony. His lips curl in a knowing smirk as he turns to greet you. "Mother has sent me to get you aeons ago! I've been looking for you all over. It's time to leave. Say your goodbyes, and be quick." He leaves then, giving you a moment of privacy.
"I-I, hm, I have really enjoyed your company tonight. Thank you for the dance. I fear I must be going now."
"Wait," you say placing your hand on his arm, half expecting him to recoil. He doesn't. You get on your tip-toes and you can still barely reach his face. Thankfully, he's already slouching. You press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips, hoping no one saw you. "Surely, you wouldn't have left me without a kiss goodnight?"
His face is burning now and he swallows. "Pray, forgive the discourtesy. How careless I am. I'll bear it in mind for next time." With that, he turns and leaves you.
Kazuma Asogi
He walks up to you one day right as you're about to head to your next class, looking pensive and excited at once. You know why, you'd heard the news. Kazuma had been selected for the student exchange and you were thrilled for him - no one deserved it more than he did. You just hoped you did a good job of hiding how sad you were to see him leave regardless.
"I can't leave you here without a proper goodbye. Leave your books, come on." He convinces you to skip the rest of your classes and drags you away on an adventure as he calls it.
You spend the day together, joking around, getting food and window shopping. Finally, you settle under the shade of a tree where you usually met up in secret. He babbles away about the law, the British Empire, his plans for the future.
When he runs out of topics to talk about, he goes quiet, dark eyes searching your face. "Do you know why I stole you away today?" Stole? He's so dramatic. You shake your head. "I don't want you to forget me when I'm gone. Remember this day, and me and this." With that, he gently takes your face in his hands and leans in, claiming your lips in a heated kiss. It's so intense, you feel yourself burning under his touch. Tears prickle your eyes when you part. "I hate to so you go," you whisper weakly and he gives you a sad, understanding smile. "I know. I'm so sorry." You pull him into another kiss, lying down on the grass, hidden by the shade of the tree. You're not about to let him forget you either.
#ace attorney#the great ace attorney#dai gyakuten saiban#miles edgeworth#franziska von karma#diego armando#godot#klavier gavin#simon blackquill#nahyuta sahdmadhi#barok van zieks#kazuma asogi#headcanons#x reader#can you tell who my favourites are from this yes you can hi simon barok and kazuma how you doing babes#did i tag everyone i hope so
395 notes
·
View notes
Note
Prompt: Wei Wuxian has achieved time travel! He's gonna fix so many broken things. Unfortunately, WWX has miscalculated a teensy tiny variable and instead of arriving in his original 15yo body in Lotus Pier, he's crash landed in MXY's tiny 7~8yo body at Mo Manor. But no problem, he can fix this if he can just find his real body. (Meanwhile, Yunmeng Jiang's head disciple is acting the wrong kind of childish, aka, Mo Xuanyu is having the weirdest day of his young life.)
Switcheroo - ao3
Mo Xuanyu thought that this Wei Wuxian person whose body he’d stolen must have been a really interesting person, mostly because he’d been here for three days so far and nobody’d noticed the switch yet.
Possibly it had to do with the fact that Mo Xuanyu still wasn’t exactly sure how he’d stolen the body – he’d just gone to sleep in the shed, same as always, and then he’d woken up in the softest bed he’d ever encountered in his life…no, softer than even his dreams! He’d thought it over and concluded that he must have died from cold out in the shed, turned into a fierce ghost out of resentment, grown powerful (somehow), then stolen some rich young master’s body when they weren’t paying close enough attention and, once he’d possessed the body, promptly lost all his memory of being a ghost.
It seemed like the only logical course of events.
He was very sorry about it, though. Wei Wuxian seemed like a nice, if very unusual person.
The first day, Mo Xuanyu had barely even noticed the body-switch, being quite so enamored of the soft bed he was in – he’d refused to get out of bed at all, declaring that he was going to lie in and sleep for a century or more, and the people who’d come to the door to get him didn’t beat him or anything over it, but rather just laughed or rolled their eyes and then left him to it. Luckily, at the time, he’d just assumed he was dead or something and proceeded to ignore everything in favor of napping.
He only acknowledged that he was alive later in the afternoon, when his stomach started growling – it seemed like a very unlikely thing for a dead man’s stomach to do.
Mo Xuanyu had by that point figured out that he wasn’t himself anymore, which was fine since he didn’t much like himself; he’d also figured out, through looking himself over, that he was old now. At least fifteen or sixteen, which was twice the age he last remembered himself being. That was fine, too, though: being older meant that he was stronger and faster and would be better able to handle it when people wanted to beat him or something. Most importantly, though, it meant he was old enough to enter the kitchen on his own!
Mo Xuanyu already knew that he wasn’t allowed to eat at the main table, being only the bastard son of the younger daughter, and the cook back at home was a fierce woman who didn’t allow anyone under the age of ten into her kitchen; as a result, he had to wait for his mother to bring him back some food, and it was always cold and not quite enough. Now, though, since he was older, he figured he might as well try to go to the kitchen and fill his belly that way.
Luckily, while his current body’s house was much bigger than the Mo house, all houses were generally built along the same lines, so it wasn’t hard to find the kitchen. Everyone there laughed when he showed up, even though he’d tried to be very quiet and sneak in and then screwed it up by tripping over his own feet – it seemed like everyone thought he was doing it on purpose to be funny – and then the cooks gave him a meal of his own that was hot and fresh and wonderful.
He'd wolfed it down.
“Honestly, Wei Wuxian, you eat like a hungry ghost, you’d think the Jiang clan starves you,” one of them scolded him, but with a smile, and from that Mo Xuanyu learned that the rich young master was called Wei Wuxian and that he lived with the Jiang clan. The different surnames confused him a little, but he didn’t dare ask any questions about it, so he just stuffed his mouth and pretended that was the reason he couldn’t answer.
No one questioned it.
No one questioned it when he went wandering all around instead of doing whatever chores or duties he’d been assigned, either. Someone had actually seen him hovering by a door and asked him to bring back a pheasant when he returned, so out of lack of better options he’d headed outside to try to go find one.
He had a pretty good time walking around the forest, then remembered what he’d been asked and chased the pheasants for a while, without success . Fortunately, he then got lucky and stumbled over an old snare that had three pheasants caught inside, so he’d picked up the whole box and carted it back home.
“Three,” one of the boys in purple-blue marveled as he saw Mo Xuanyu walking towards the kitchen. “You know, people say that the birds around the Lotus Pier have gotten too smart to be caught easily, but look at our da-shixiong; he makes it look easy!”
From this, Mo Xuanyu could figure out that Wei Wuxian was (apparently!) part of a cultivator clan, apparently located at a place called the Lotus Pier, and that he was the oldest or at least head disciple, to boot. He knew all about cultivator clans from his mother, since apparently his father had been a sect leader, and that meant he knew enough to call the other boy ‘shidi’ as he passed, making the other boy beam happily.
It also meant that when he chanced a guess and called the young woman in a pretty pink dress who waved at him ‘shijie’, she smiled and nodded, which meant to him that he’d done the right thing.
“I heard you slept even more of the morning away than usual,” she told him, but didn’t seem too upset about it. “I bet that means you’ll be skipping dinner and staying up all night, hmm?”
Mo Xuanyu had no intention of skipping dinner if it was anything like what the kitchens had given him earlier, actually, but while he was still trying to figure out a way to say that, she said, leaning in close to whisper, “It’s probably a good idea, anyway – Mother and Father are fighting again. Just go to the kitchens to grab something…I promise I’ll make it up to you with some soup tomorrow, pork ribs and lotus roots, your favorite. All right?”
“Shijie, you’re the best,” Mo Xuanyu said effusively, willing to die for her at once, and she laughed and tousled his hair.
“I am,” she said, looking happy. “And if my little A-Xian stays good and obedient, I may even feed him.”
She did, too, the next day when he finally tore himself out of the beautiful wonderful soft bed and went to go find her. She’d made him soup, just as he’d promised, and laughed and laughed for some reason: apparently, she interpreted him being quiet and not talking too much as his efforts to be ‘good and obedient’, which was apparently so out of the ordinary as to be a deliberate joke.
From this, Mo Xuanyu concluded that the young master he’d possessed, Wei Wuxian, was a jackass.
Well, perhaps that was a bit harsh. Arrogant and self-centered, talented and brave and probably brilliant, definitely charming and maybe even kind, but also spoiled and inclined to step on other people to get where he wanted to go, if Mo Xuanyu had to guess – why else would everyone constantly react as if him not being obnoxious was the world’s biggest stunt?
No one seemed to expect anything of him at all: he didn’t do any chores, and no one batted an eyelid; he didn’t go where he was told, and everyone just sighed…at one point the sect leader himself came and patted him on the head, scolding him in a joking tone that he hadn’t seen him leading any of the training the way he was supposed to – but when Mo Xuanyu quailed, he’d burst out laughing, telling ‘Wei Wuxian’ to stop pretending to be a scared little rabbit, that it was fine if he’d gotten distracted by some clever new invention or whatever, that someone else would handle it, that he should take as long as he needed.
Mo Xuanyu had pasted a great big smile on his face through force of effort and agreed cheerfully.
The sect leader had accepted it.
Probably a jackass, but clearly a beloved one, Mo Xuanyu thought to himself as he packed up clothing and a few small treasures that no one would miss, a little wistful. The scare of the whole encounter had put things in perspective – he wasn’t going to be able to keep up this sort of façade for long. In fact, he was shocked he’d managed it so long already; surely, no matter how many pranks this Wei Wuxian played, no matter how childishly he behaved, surely someone should’ve noticed that he was actually an eight-year-old masquerading as a sixteen-year-old?
Mo Xuanyu couldn’t decide whether it was sad that no one paid too much attention or something that this Wei Wuxian fellow had brought down on his own head by being so consistently annoying.
Either way, there was nothing for it – he was going to have to leave.
Now that part was really sad: he’d never in his life had such good food, or such a soft bed, or even so many people that just seemed plain old happy to see him as since he’d arrived in this place. But he wasn’t the one all those things were for; he was just a sad ghost possessing a person, and if he stayed, the cultivators would eventually figure out something was wrong and exorcise him.
Probably violently.
Mo Xuanyu probably deserved it, too, but despite that he wasn’t willing.
So he packed up what he could and headed out.
He got all the way to the gate before a new purple-clad disciple – about his age, if he had to guess, and holding a pack like he’d just come back from a trip, with a scowl on his face – called out for Wei Wuxian.
Mo Xuanyu waved a little, hoping that that would be enough.
For the first time, it wasn’t.
The boy’s face settled into an even deeper scowl.
“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” he demanded. “Wei Wuxian! You’re acting all weird – hey! Where are you going?”
Mo Xuanyu was running away, obviously. He wasn’t about to get tied up and exorcised, no thank you.
He didn’t think he’d make it, but it was still worth trying.
Sure enough, the purple-clad boy who was probably called Jiang Cheng, based on what everyone was calling out as they ran by, got tired of running and jumped on his sword, and there was no way Mo Xuanyu would be able to outrun a sword, not even if he tried as fast as he –
Someone picked him up.
It wasn’t Jiang Cheng.
Mo Xuanyu turned his head and stared.
It must be some sort of yao, he thought. Humans were definitely not that pretty.
“Lan Wangji!” Jiang Cheng howled. “What are you even doing in the Lotus Pier?! Put my shixiong down!”
The rescuer, Lan Wangji, frowned a little at Mo Xuanyu.
Mo Xuanyu didn’t know exactly what expression he ought to be making in return, and was a bit too dazed to even dare to guess. He’d just noticed that they were flying – flying! on a sword! – and he was clutching onto this Lan Wangji’s shoulders for dear life.
“You are not Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said. His voice sounded very definitive.
“Uh,” Mo Xuanyu said. “Sorry? Please don’t drop me.”
“I will not. What is your name?”
“Mo Xuanyu,” Mo Xuanyu admitted, and Lan Wangji’s eyes widened as if that meant something to him – except it couldn’t, of course, because Mo Xuanyu was sure he’d never met anyone even remotely like this Lan Wangji fellow in his life. “I don’t remember taking his body. I’m sorry. Can you not exorcise me? I don’t want to die.”
Lan Wangji was silent for a long moment.
He was still flying very fast, and Jiang Cheng was still following, shouting out curses and demands that he stop, not that Lan Wangji was listening.
“There will be no exorcism,” he finally said, and Mo Xuanyu exhaled in relief. “We will, however, fix this.”
“…we?”
“Wei Ying and myself.”
Mo Xuanyu nodded. That sounded more likely than anyone relying on his participation.
“Where are we going?” he asked. Jiang Cheng was falling further and further behind.
“Mo Village.”
Mo Xuanyu tensed up at once.
“You will not be left there,” Lan Wangji clarified, and – how did he know that Mo Xuanyu didn’t want to be left there? “But we must collect Wei Ying, who I suspect is currently in your body.”
“In my…I’m still alive?”
Lan Wangji was quiet again, and then said, “Yes. And you will remain so.”
That was reassuring, mostly.
“Okay,” Mo Xuanyu said, and found that he mostly felt relieved. He’d be very happy to have his normal body back again, if possible, especially if he didn’t have to stay in Mo Village…“Wait, if I don’t have to stay there, where will I go? I don’t have anywhere else to go, unless my father comes back for me. He's a sect leader –”
“He will not, and even if he did, you should not go with him. Once Wei Ying returns to his body, you will be able to stay at the Lotus Pier. If you do not wish to stay there, I will bring you back to the Cloud Recesses – that is my home – instead.”
“Oh,” Mo Xuanyu said, feeling bewildered. That was an awfully nice offer, even if Lan Wangji was feeling guilty about Wei Wuxian stealing his body by accident – which seemed like what had happened here rather than Mo Xuanyu being the one who did the stealing. Maybe he should go with Lan Wangji instead, he seemed much more responsible than Wei Wuxian was, rushing over to rescue him and explain things instead of throwing him into a body and leaving him all alone in a strange place. But on the other hand… “Is the Cloud Recesses…I mean…no offense, but…does it have…”
“Yes?”
“Does it have soft beds, too? And – and hot food?”
Mo Xuanyu didn’t need much, not really. He looked eagerly at Lan Wangji, who had an odd expression on his face briefly before wiping it back to neutral and nodding in confirmation.
“Okay,” Mo Xuanyu said, and curled up in Lan Wangji’s arms. “Then I’ll stay with you. You can take care of me.”
“I will,” Lan Wangji said, sounding strangely serious. “In return for the gift you last gave me – I will.”
317 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey Nat, I'm kinda blaming you for my budding infatuation with Nanami and I was wondering if I may request Nanami and his s/o having their first kiss? It doesn't have to be long but I'm just feeling soft and with the way you write him it sounds like a treat once this reserved, professional man finally allows himself to give in
oh anon i am so... so very soft.... you cannot blame me for the nanami desire. he is simply irresistible.
date night - nanami x reader (3k)
you’re nervous about your first date with nanami.
warnings: none. fluffy, soft. neutral reader, some mentions of food and alcohol.
You cannot help but be nervous about tonight.
Your friends have made fun of you, talking about your hot date – Gojo thumping you on the back, Shoko looking at you with her tired eyes but a smirk on her face. Neither of them really get it, you don’t think – to them, Nanami is their former junior who is just a little too serious for his own good. A gloomy, stoic presence who they trust implicitly due to the good head on his shoulders, but who they do not really see as ‘a potential romantic match’. They know that you’ve been harbouring a crush on the former salaryman for months, and they’ve already tried to warn you off him.
“He can be so boring,” Gojo had said, swinging an arm around your shoulders. “Let me set you up with someone instead!”
Your face had heated up at the idea that Gojo didn’t trust you to make your own romantic decisions, but he was already halfway through listing the name of every eligible bachelor he knew (and a few who he said ‘weren’t eligible, but they probably could be, for you!’). You’d been able to do nothing but listen politely as you’d walked with him to his classroom, occasionally gathering strange looks from the students that were milling around in the corridors.
“Think about it!” He’d cried to you as he’d stepped into his bare classroom (you hardly ever see him doing any actual classwork in there; mainly, you see him lying on top of desks and making fun of his students) and greeted the three first years waiting for him. “You don’t wanna be stuck ironing Nanami’s socks for the rest of your life!”
You hope his students don’t hear him, as you decide to go for a walk outside to clear your head.
You and Nanami have been dancing around the idea of maybe possibly being something more than friends for weeks. You’ve felt it, in the brush of his hand against yours, the way that his eyes seem to soften and his tiredness seems to lift when you’re near him. You’ve felt it, as you’ve passed him a cup of coffee and he’s relished the warmth emanating from the cup. In the soft way he speaks to you.
You’ve felt it when he’s held your hand as the two of you have walked together, not saying anything. In his scarf wrapped around your neck, smelling like him.
What you haven’t done, is go on a date.
And perhaps this isn’t a date the way you’d once have dreamed about it. You’re going over to Nanami’s place; he’s going to cook a meal for you, the two of you are going to catch up after he’s been gone on a mission for almost a week - the two of you are going to watch a foreign film he’s been able to get hold of, that you’ve been saving to watch with one another. You’re going to perhaps have a glass of wine together, or two--
You kind of do want to be stuck ironing Nanami’s socks for the rest of your life.
It sounds so silly when you say it aloud! You haven’t even kissed him, just brushed fingers and held hands and saved each other’s lives whilst on exorcisms together. But whenever you close your eyes and imagine your future, Nanami is always there, right beside you.
You breathe in deeply. You have to ignore what Gojo and Shoko and everyone have been saying. They’ve known Nanami for longer than you – they were his upperclassmen, after all, and you suppose it’s traditional to make fun of and quash your younger classmates a little. You just need to think about what you want, and what Nanami himself may want. Plucking uselessly at your clothes, nerves fizzing in your stomach, you elect to ignore the anxiety gnawing at you until you’re at least outside of Nanami’s front door.
Then, you tell yourself, then, I’ll allow myself to panic a little bit. Seeing Nanami’s calm, handsome face always calms me down. The minute he answers the door, I’ll forget that I was even nervous, and everything will be just as it should.
It doesn’t stop you worrying, as you get dressed and try and fluff your hair and rearrange all of your accessories whilst you get ready. It’s just an evening at his house, you try and keep telling yourself. He’s not expecting me to show up like a runway model, he’d probably hate that anyway--
Still. Having a crush on somebody is never easy, and Nanami can be so utterly unreadable at times, that you get dressed and undressed twice more before you settle on something in between casual and formal; that looks like you’ve made an effort, without looking like you agonised for hours to figure out what the level of effort should be. You’re clutching a bottle of wine and standing outside of his door three minutes early, wondering if he’s the kind of man who gets annoyed if you are there too early.
The door swings open, and Nanami is there, leaning on the door frame. He’s breathtakingly handsome, in casual clothes – an expensive looking sweater in soft grey that gives just a peek at the column of his throat, cuffed jeans. You’ve never seen him look so . . . relaxed. And the fact that he’s looking at you, his lips barely tilting, his tired eyes just a little turned up at the corners.
“You look nice,” he tells you, and you thank God that you went with this outfit. You hold out the bottle of wine for him, and his smile breaks wider as he looks at it. “You didn’t need to bring me anything, you know. I’m happy to be the provider this evening.”
“It’s-- it’s polite!” You insist, and Nanami steps aside to allow you into his house. He’s very proper, and you’d wanted to impress him – you think the young lady who had served you in the specialist store you’d anxiously entered had sensed your worry, and had been very kind as she’d picked something for you she was certain you’d like.
“You made a good choice,” he tells you, as he invites you into his hallway and you gratefully pull off your shoes. “This one looks fine--”
“I didn’t really choose it,” you admit. “I let the experts do it.”
He laughs, the sound like an early spring morning. You don’t think anybody else hears him laugh like that, and the comfort that the two of you share makes you feel soft and warm.
“Even more admirable, then,” he says. “Most people we know would just barrel in guns blazing and insist they knew the right way to do things.”
You both share a secretive smile, your cheeks warming. You can feel tension draining out of you the longer you spend in Nanami’s company. Something about him just sets you at ease.
When you’d first met him, you’d been frightened of him. He seemed so gloomy and intense, so utterly focussed on his goals – when you had tried to speak to him, he had brushed you off with short one word answers and you’d caught him looking at you when your back was turned as if he was waiting for you to slip up.
But as time had worn on . . . as time had worn on, Nanami’s edges had softened. You’d realised that he was willing to talk, when the participant had proved themselves to be worth talking to. He’d told you once, shrugging, that most jujutsu sorcerers just tended to be . . . odd.
“Not you, though,” he’d said, and your heart had leapt in your chest. “Well. You’re not odd in any way that isn’t charming.”
He’s not usually the kind of man who heaps praise on other people; that little compliment, you had carried with you like a flame in your heart. The first time he had held your hand, he hadn’t said anything. The first time he had walked you home, and met you for coffee in a morning a half hour before you were due to be at the scene of an exorcism; Nanami Kento shows that he cares about you in a hundred different little ways that aren’t as simple as telling you it out and out. You admire that about him. You’re so used to putting your foot in your mouth.
“Come sit at the table,” he says, and you follow him obediently. His house is tastefully decorated, somewhere between modern and traditional; he has shelves of books everywhere, and that makes you smile. You’ve heard him say, sighing; “When I’m done with all this, I’ll finally have time to get around to reading them.” The shelf in the very corner of the dining area is the only one that looks well-thumbed; even from here, you can see that it’s where he keeps his recipe books.
“I hope you’ll like it,” you settle into the chair that he pulls out for you. He moves into the kitchen with purpose, grabbing serving dishes and utensils and juggling them with a precision that makes you admire him all the more. “I’m very glad you were on time. It’s the kind of dish that needs to be eaten at the exact right moment.”
He whips the cover off the main dish.
You knew that Nanami was a foodie. His instagram is full of pictures of various places and treats he’s eaten – with a particular focus on adorable baked goods, especially bread, that had made you feel warm inside when you’d noticed. Still, the spread that he’s laid out before you would not look out of place in the most high-class of restaurants; the kind that you’d never had the money to afford to eat in, and you’d have been afraid of showing yourself up at the tables of. You stare at it, mesmerised; the vegetables, so bright and colourful and steaming, lovingly presented – the glaze of the meats, the bowls full of side-dishes that you can’t quite recognise.
There’s an anxiety in his face when he looks at you.
“Sorry,” he says, quietly. “I think I probably over-estimated. And over-compensated, I suppose, for not taking you out to a restaurant--”
“No,” you say, quickly. “It looks delicious. I’m glad you invited me. It’s just . . . a lot.”
“Yes,” his eyes rove over the table. “There are only two of us.”
“It’ll make good left-overs,” you suggest, and he brightens.
“That should have been my line,” he tells you as he retrieves the wine you’d brought. You can see that there was already a bottle chilling in a bucket by the table, but Nanami’s face is affectionate as he pops the cork and pours some into the wine glass by your plate. “I’m supposed to be the responsible one.”
“Sorry for stealing your thunder,” you take a sip of the wine.
“Just as long as you don’t make a habit of it.”
The food really is delicious. You could easily have had seconds, or even thirds – on an ordinary day. A day in which your stomach isn’t churning from how alone the two of you are. There’s a buzz in the air that isn’t quite tension; more, it’s a promise that there’s more yet to come. You and Nanami laugh over dinner, the conversation surprisingly easy when the knot in your insides is so tight. He talks about his old job, and you talk about your own adventures before you’d ended up in Tokyo – he smiles, and laughs, more than you’ve ever seen him do.
He seems so much more at home here. That’s silly, considering it is his home – but somehow, there’d always been an image of Nanami in your head as serious and unforgiving with his tie very tight and his suits perfectly pressed even when he was relaxing in his own rooms.
That image is quickly wiped away, by the way he looks as he rolls up the sleeves of his sweater to take the dishes away.
“Let me help you wash up,” you try and say, but he waves you away.
“I’ll leave them for after you’ve gone,” he says. “I’m not going to ask a guest to do that. Or maybe I’ll even be bold; leave them for in the morning.” His smile makes you feel weak at the knees, this time – a spot of pink high on those sharp cheekbones. Is he blushing, or has his face gone rosy from the wine?
The two of you migrate into the living room. His television is large, but not ostentatiously so; a row of DVDs are neatly in the cabinet beneath it, mainly drama films, period films and some foreign prestige box sets. The movie the two of you have been talking about is one of those – a Danish film about an ageing detective who takes on one last case. You had originally planned to see it together, when it made it to Tokyo cinemas; but one thing had lead to another, and before you could both get the schedules to work out it had gone.
He places the DVD into the player and you can’t help but stare at him; how the soft material of the sweater clings to his broad shoulders, how the jeans seem to emphasise his ass – he’s always in slacks, you’ve never really had the chance to ogle it before, but seeing it in front of you now you suddenly understand why he keeps it covered. Who knows what riots it might incite, if it were just out and about for anyone to see?
“You’re staring,” Nanami turns his head slightly, catching your eye. Heat rushes to your face – but he keeps your eyes pinned with his own for a moment, before deliberately dragging them down the length of you, sat on the sofa. You feel hot and warm and bothered by the way he smiles afterwards, as if he is saying that he likes what he’s seeing too. “You don’t need to be sneaky about it. I don’t mind.”
You swallow, your throat suddenly going very dry. Nanami moves across the room, sitting on the sofa beside you. Heat seems to be radiating off of him; there’s a comfort in having him next to you.
“You look uncomfortable,” he says, five minutes into the movie. He leans back, an arm coming to rest on the back of the sofa behind you. “You can lean on me, you know. I don’t mind.”
He looks inviting. His head is tipped to one side as he meets your eyes; there’s no challenge in his. Just a softness. A quiet affection. Perhaps a touch of nervousness – of trepidation, that you’ll refuse the offer. You hesitantly sidle closer, leaning your head against his side. His scent wraps around you; freshly cleaned laundry, peppermint, coffee, spices, some of the wine from earlier--
You fair go dizzy at it all, but not as dizzy as you go when the arm on the back of the sofa wraps around you, his fingers resting on your shoulder. How are you supposed to concentrate on anything, with him so close to you? With everything about him making you feel like you’re on a roller-coaster climbing upwards and upwards, hurtling towards the inevitable?
You try – oh, you really do try – to keep your eyes on the film and the subtitles scrolling across the bottom of the television. But the aged detective is not half as interesting as Nanami; as the way he focusses on the screen, as his face bathed in the light. As his hand, as it gently starts to stroke over your shoulder, as if he’s barely aware he’s doing it. As his tongue, as it darts out to nervously lick at his lips.
“You’re staring at me,” he says, and you flinch that he’s noticed. His head turns, pinning you with the full force of his gaze. “Are you not enjoying it? We can turn it off?”
How do you answer that?
The real answer: ‘I’m not enjoying it because I can’t concentrate on anything other than you, and how badly I want to be brave enough to kiss you’, feels too bare and bold. You bite your lip.
Nanami leans in closer to you, so close that you can see the flush on his cheeks. The slightly ruffled hairs falling over his forehead. You can count his eyelashes, almost--
“I’m not sure what’s going on either,” he admits, softly. “And I can speak Danish.”
The arm not around your shoulders moves, resting on your waist. You can barely breathe. He’s so close to you; so gorgeous, in the light. All of that former salaryman indifference seems to have gone; he’s not cold any longer, but boiling hot. You’ve been watching it slowly strip away from him since you met him, you think, but tonight might be the first time he’s been Kento Nanami with no pretension.
Nervous about his food, even though he knows he’s an excellent cook. Blushing as he realises you’re checking him out. Almost trembling, as his hand slides up and he cups your cheek like you’re made of porcelain and he’s afraid he might drop and shatter you at any moment. You blink up at him, honey-slow, so dazed by his touch and his presence you can barely make sense of what’s happening.
“I’m going to kiss you,” Nanami says, as a warning. Even now, he seems to think you might pull away. But you cannot, you do not; you just press yourself closer into him, your voice coming out very soft and small as you whisper;
“Please do.”
He does not need to be asked twice. His lips are so soft against yours. The wine clings to them, intoxicating and heady. The hand on your cheek tips your face further up, so he can keep his mouth pressed against you so sweetly. You pull back, your heart pounding.
“Ah, I’m sorry,” he’s saying, almost immediately, nervous that you have changed your mind – but all you do is free your arms, so you can wrap them about his neck and pull him in closer, to devour him the way you’ve wanted to for months.
The movie plays on, forgotten.
#jjk x reader#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami kento x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#nanami fluff#writing#food for ts#alcohol for ts#Anonymous
531 notes
·
View notes
Text
With the semi/cryptic confirmation of Ed and Barts relationship in the series I have a question:
Do you think everyone knows about them (in world) or do you think they’re keeping it secret from some?
It’s just a thought that’s been in my head recently. It is most likely fuelled by the whole drama of G&B not being able to depict a “specific character” (it’s definitely Bart) as gay. They’ve had to hide the relationship from their audience - because of ridiculous reasons - but there are still moments that bring up the question - Are they? Before the reveals from AskGreg, I kinda thought- well they are clearly not together yet, but perhaps they both have feelings for one another and are just waiting for the other to make the next move because they’re nervous idiots who don’t want to have read the situation wrong — all while their friends are like - seriously guys? just get together already. Kinda like they did in s1 with Wally and Artemis - and I guess early Supermartian as well - which I would have been okay with... though with the likelihood of there being at least another two year time skip you’d probably have missed the getting together moment - which would kinda suck. Anyway. With the information about the chances being they were supposed to clearly be in a relationship throughout S3 — which makes the whole structuring of ILLUSIONS just make sense — it’s got me viewing their moments with a whole new energy. Also, I saw this post by Greg —
And let me just clarify, I have no idea if this is actually referencing the Ed and Bart stuff, it might not be (probably isn't). This is purely me speculating.
My reading of this is they got told they couldn’t depict Bart as gay pretty late on and that specifically affected ILLUSIONS where they likely intended to confirm the relationship with that first shot - the kiss on the cheek moment. Even now that moment is just odd - because it’s there but it’s not - because technically there is no actual kiss… which I think is absolutely the point. It plants the seed without actually breaking any rules - all by keeping the momentum but removing the specific kiss frame. It’s the only moment that I feel is explicit in saying they are in a relationship - everything else you can just read into and imply there’s something - but they technically don’t confirm anything.
The whole thing is actually quite interesting - despite the reasoning for it being totally ridiculous. By keeping/showing what they did... People notice it. People talk about it. People reflect on it. More people talk about it. People writing. Make. Create. Discuss it. An entire audience is formed who want and support it. It’s a whole thing now because people noticed it and generated a positive response to it - and that was before all the AskGreg information. The whole reason YJ got a season 3 is because the fans fought to get it back. Enough people talked about it - and kept talking about it - to convince TPTB that the show should come back. Greg and Brandon know this. They know the power the fans have and maybe they hoped that power would help them again in freeing Bart from these ridiculous restrictions. #letbartoutofthecloset
Obviously, we can't know until S4 is released whether G&B got the permission to confirm Bart's sexuality the way they envisioned - but maybe the responses that came during the release of 3b were enough to convince TPTB that they were fighting a losing battle. But who knows, people in power can be very stubborn at times, so we will just have to see what we get. Fingers crossed they eased up though - and not just because of the Ed/Bart relationship (which I am obviously a fan of -- it's fine if not everyone is) - but because these restrictions on LGBTQ+ content shouldn't be a thing and need to stop -- there is just no validity in them.
Anyhow. despite their not being allowed to officially confirm the relationship, Greg's comment about Ed's having a boyfriend they can't name basically confirms the fact without technically breaking any rules again. Masterfully done Wiesman. With this, it implies the pair are in fact dating during S3 which brings us back to the original question... but who knows??
With the comments of Virgil during ILLUSIONS, it's easy to assume their friends do in fact know. They also seem to have no problem being close and interacting with one another whilst in the presence of others -- that is, except for one moment...
Ever since the first time I saw this episode (ELDER WISDOM) I have always found this moment strange - because Ed seems to get kinda awkward when Barry comes to check on Bart. (Or that's how I see it at least.) He realises Flash is standing there and immediately pulls his head down averting his gaze -- almost like he doesn't want to be seen by the elder. But why? Does Barry not know about the pair -- or maybe he doesn't know about Bart and Ed thinks their current closeness is too revealing -- who's to say Bart's even fully out to the world yet -- who's to say either of them are? We certainly don't since we weren't allowed to be shown. We can't know until we know - so until then we can play the speculation game while we wait.
Bart is certainly a bit of a secret keeper when it comes to being himself. I'm still convinced the Bart we see onscreen is merely his interpretation of what he thinks people expect from a speedster in this time. We saw 'real' Bart, he was snarky and cynical and nothing like the Bart we've had for the past two seasons. He said it himself - he's playing a character - and I don't think he knows how to break out of it - not while the possibility exists that it might hurt those he's grown to care about. Bart wants to be seen a certain way to avoid acknowledging the truth of the past - if people see him as happy and smiley, then no one will question him on things he doesn't want to talk about. The problem with that is you can't hide yourself forever - cracks begin to form and eventually, the truth comes out whether you want it to or not. So who knows how comfortable Bart is revealing any of his true self to those he cares about. Maybe his relationship with Ed will be the thing that finally helps him find comfort in being himself, whilst also trusting others to still accept him as himself... and maybe getting him that bit of therapy he really needs.
This brings us to Eduardo… First, can I just say it made me so happy to see Greg’s confirmation of Ed being gay - though it is slightly annoying that he was robbed of his explicit onscreen reveal in S3 thanks to the drama with Bart. His whole relationship to his powers in S2 to S3 fits the representation of coming to terms with your sexuality/identity from a very negative point of view. Feeling like it’s something that needs fixing or needs to be “cured” - to then finding the light and freedom in accepting yourself for you. His growth between seasons is brilliant. He understands the hate and insecurity the teens are feeling because he felt it himself. He does all he can to help them because he never felt he got that help when he needed it - and no one deserves to feel worse for being who they are. Obviously, the things he talks about are framed in the context of dealing with/accepting the meta-gene - yet there are certain moments where it seems he’s saying more than that…
All of which got me wondering - why did Ed originally runaway? It certainly wasn’t because of the meta-abilities he did not yet have. All he’s ever said on the subject was he thought he wanted to be with his father - the man it seems he barely had a relationship with. No, I think Ed has been running from himself for a long time and his dad just happened to be an actual direction for him to aim for. The way he speaks about his wanting to be “cured” and “praying to get rid of his powers” suggests an upbringing around religion and traditional ideas of there being a ‘normal/proper’ way to be — while anything that doesn’t fit that way is treated as other or something that needs to be changed or 'fixed'. Maybe he ran to avoid being found out and run the risk of being ostracised by those he loved. Or maybe he was found out and leaving wasn’t entirely his choice*. If this was the case, I can certainly imagine him not wanting to come out to his dad for fear of his reaction and completely losing all chance of that father-son relationship they’re both trying so hard to keep. It can seem easier to live in secret than risk the reality of loss. So while the meta-gene likely wasn’t the main thing he was angry about in S2, it was able to become a physical thing he could blame and focus his anger on - without having to think about where his issues truly lied… Though with a bit of time it also became the thing he was comfortable conveying his feelings through...
“I’ve learned to accept, even love my meta-abilities”
I love this line so much and it’s all because of the delivery by Freddy Rodrigues. There is the slightest hint of a pause before he says “meta-abilities”, which gives the impression he was about to say something else before then remembering himself and who he was talking to. Then there’s the small inflecion he put on “love”, which makes it sound like it’s the first time he’s heard himself say the words out loud. I don’t hear him talking about the gene - I hear him talking about finally accepting himself - all of himself - for the first time in maybe ever and finally feeling happy because of it. I hear growth... From being the angry 14-year-old skater who just wanted to run away and escape any way he could. To the 16-year-old councillor/Outsider jumping straight into the danger to protect and inspire those who need it. Both he and Bart are such strong characters with so much more to be seen - especially when it comes to the insecurities which lie behind their masks. They both compliment each other pretty perfectly - both powers-wise and personality-wise - meaning while they try to hide themself from others, I don't think it'll take long for them to realise they can't hide from each other.
Anywho, that’s all the speculatary nonsense I’ve got for today. This turned into such a patchwork of vaguely linkable thoughts I’ve had which barely relate to the one I started with - but that is usually how it goes. Take it as you will…
Also, completely unrelated to YJ, but Bi Tim Drake now exists in dc canon which is really cool - seeing all of the joy it’s sparked has really given me something to smile about this week… There is hope after all. 🌈
— LB ⚡️☀️
* OK so here’s a little random snapshot into the chaos of my mind— as I was writing the Ed stuff I had a scene pop into my head of Ed finally -for whatever reason- having to tell his dad that he didn’t leave his abuelo’s home - he got kicked out. His dads confused about this and asks Why? What did you do? And Ed’s like Nothing… I didn’t do anything wrong… he just… found out something. So Seniors like Found out what Eduardo? And Ed’s getting really nervous now because he doesn’t want to say it - That I, um… I’m… Senior step a fraction closer as he picks up on Ed’s anxiety but remains an appropriate distance - Son? Then after a tensening silence he finally says it - sounding the most vulnerable he has ever been - I’m gay… The silence is there again, heavy and unnerving, neither saying a word. Ed can’t move as he’s lock in his elders unreadable glare. Expecting the worse his head drops to take in the floor - anything that isn’t the disappointment ahead - he feels the urge to disappear burning up inside him - consuming him. Then just as he’s about to escape he’s suddenly grounded by a steadying hand rooting itself on his shoulder. Tentatively he lifts his gaze to witness his father, there, with nothing but love and support in his eyes - Mijo. The clamping in his chest dissipates as all the tension escapes at once, along with the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Ed embraces his dad and the elder embraces his son. Together. A family.
Anyway. That’s probably a load of rubbish but hey my minds full of it… but basically I really want to see a tender moment between Ed and his dad. For whatever reason. Something where Ed’s in a vulnerable state and in need of some emotional support from his father - and without hesitation his father steps up - because that’s what we haven’t seen from them yet. It would perfectly portray the strength of their relationship as father and son - despite their previous struggles - and prove that Senior is willing to support his son no matter the situation as the father - not just the scientist. Its the final step in their healing journey and I wanna see it so bad!!
#letbartoutofthecloset#long post#my totally random thoughts#bartwatch#eduardo dorado jr#bart allen#young justice#yj#yj outsiders#young justice outsiders#yj season 3#dc#bartuardo#zetaflash#el dorado#elder wisdom#yj3#illusion of control#lgbt representation#lgbtq+#young justice invasion#yj season 2#relationships#my random ideas#analysis#speculation#identity#sexuality#self acceptance#growth
203 notes
·
View notes