#so he has some sentimental value to me
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evilkitten3 · 2 years ago
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ranking the hokage by how much i care about them
tsunade. obviously she's number one no explanation needed i love her she's wonderful. no questions no criticisms i love her. should have killed those two elders instead of just dropping them on the floor but i guess making them live with the shame of not being worth her time to kill is good enough. straight up deserted and was so cool they made her president anyway
hashirama!!!!! he's insane. i think he could have been worse frankly but nobody's perfect. worst divorce of all time. married to a woman he may not have even known existed bc he was too busy staring at his bestie's ass. enslaved and traumatized nine sentient chakra creatures for political purposes and never felt bad about it. causes problems just by having dna. would forgive him for everything instantly bc he's a cutie pie
hiruzen. absolute nightmare disaster shitshow of a man. old fuck who tried his best but his best was absolute horseshit, which just so happens to be one of my favorite kinds of characters. never made a decision he didn't regret. first person to get appointed president of the military police state by volunteering for a suicide mission in the middle of the woods. obsessed with him
kakashi! world's most saddest wet dog man. genius but also an absolute doofus. has the aura of a man who could wake up drunk in a dumpster without having imbibed a drop of alcohol. first konoha shinobi to (legally) get on an airplane. second konoha shinobi to get on an airplane at all. somehow married to the single greatest ninja of all time despite literally everything about gai being so far out of kakashi's league it's not even funny
tobirama. thought the whole "it's my jutsu!!!" thing was pretty funny. otherwise i couldn't care less. literally just some guy to me. no interest whatsover
the other one. kushina's boytoy. whatshisface. bad luck with rocks
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dreamsy990 · 6 months ago
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YAY I GOT THIS DONE ON HIS BIRTHDAY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAJIMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE YOU RUINED MY LIFE AND ALSO MAYBE SAVED MY LIFE. WHO THE FUCK KNOWS I DO LIKE YOU A LOT THOUGH
#hajime means so much to meeeeeee#hes the reason i started posting art online (not on tumblr at the time though)#so without him i wouldnt have made like. 80% of my friends#and i do not know where i would be without some of my friends ive met bc of that#like ive had some NASTY depressive episodes since then that im pretty sure i only made through because of them#hiii phantom specifically. looking at you. ilysm if you read this#anyways not to get so real on danganronpa art sdfvgfrde#sdr2 is one of my favorite games of all time like genuinely. it has a lot of sentimental value to me i guess#i was a big fan of the first game but i watched the anime (and several playthroughs) but sdr2 was the first dr game i acually played myself#i actually also watched the dr3 anime before i played sdr2?#and uh. so i went in completely spoiled for it#that being said i still absolutely adored hajime. maybe im basic but i always love protagonist characters#also johnny yong bosch's performance is so fucking good;;;; i cried at the end of the game and it wasnt even particularly sad#anyways. danganronpa was my first hyperfixation that i can remember and it was so meaningful to me. i dont know where id be without it#even if im not as interested in it now it still is really important#would i recommend it? i mean it depends. i think danganronpa is for a very specific kind of person which is the person i happen to be#ok no more tag rambling time to do normal art tags#doodles#danganronpa#hajime hinata#izuru kamukura
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cozmic-ash · 4 months ago
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I am not immune to Emmrook baby
Read about my silly myriad of headcanons below the cut!
(Okay first I know half-elf children in DA don't have pointed ears and I understand why, but I think it's so cute I couldn't resist lol)
No shade to the people who give him a son but if Emmrich is going to have a biological child I NEED her to be a daughter, he has incredibly acute girldad energy and he and Rook already have a son in Manfred
Her name is Emmeline, after him :) I know everyone likes to name Emmrook children after his parents, but I imagine that's one of her middle names. Farah (Rook) is extremely apathetic about her attachment to the Mercar name and so she kinda insists on their child taking a bunch of name cues from Emmrich's side lol
(I imagine him, in turn, INSISTING that they work a Tevene (aka Latin lol) name in there somewhere, because she's THEIR child not just his!!! and she should have SOME kind of tie to that side of her heritage!!! and so he sticks Aurora in there and her full name ends up being a mess like Emmeline Elannora Aurora Volkarin or something lmao, way too many vowels)
I like to imagine him taking her to the safer levels of the Necropolis with him (and even then of course she must be covered from head to toe, and have her hair pulled back, and always stay within her line of sight, and etc etc etc) and she always brings him the 'fascinating' stuff she finds but really it's like always nug bones and pretty rocks lol (he is of course always VERY interested). Also she's the one who wants to dress like him
After Sylvia Feketekuty answered my question about how Watchers might view mourning jewelry over on Bluesky it got me thinking about how they might view like, baby teeth, given how highly they value the body. Baby teeth fall out naturally but what a waste to just dispose of them! So it amused me to think of them making their childrens' teeth into jewelry or dioramas or something like that; in Emmrich's case I think he's a sentimental-enough man to want things like that on his person at all times (Farah, of course, is always quick to point out that they fell out NATURALLY to non MWers lol)
Similarly, I like the idea of Emmrich having a little lock of hair from Rook, and also Emmeline, maybe also braided with his own :) Kept in a little locket or something, in his breast pocket, right up against his heart <333
Also in the last image I DID want to include Manfred in that cuddle puddle but I couldn't figure out where to put him lol
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boywithskull · 11 months ago
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Francis Abernathy is such a fantastic character to me, because he’s not outwardly violent like Charles, nor increasingly cold and self-serving like Henry, yet he is just as shallow. I often see the sentiment that his ending is so tragic and how he was forced into that unhappy, het marriage. As he expresses in his suicide letter, Francis ultimately succumbs to his own lack of moral strength and failure to act (“Forgive me for the things I did but mostly the ones I did not.”) Obviously I will acknowledge that the marriage situation was unfair — no one deserves to be ousted from their family for their sexuality. However, it really was not his only choice. Just as Richard comes to realise (and is quite disgusted by), Francis would rather remain trapped than have to get a job, provide for himself, and make his own life. It reminds me a lot of Julian’s ending, and how Richard says he could at least respect it if Julian had turned them in, since it would show some strength of character, but his running away only exposed how weak-willed he was all along. Perhaps Francis has a better moral compass than Henry, but his failure to use it renders him just as at fault for everything that happened. As always, Francis values his comfort over his happiness. That’s his fatal flaw.
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joelsbloodyhands · 3 months ago
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Man vs. Bear
Millionaire!Joel Miller x Reader
Summary: Joel does everything in his power to get back something of sentimental value to you that your ex discarded like it was nothing.
Warnings: no outbreak, discussions of emotionally @bus!ve ex, mentions of types of emotional/psychological domestic @buse, mentions of controllative ex, mentions of smoking and alcohol, crying, reader is sad but Joel is gonna fix everything, protective!Joel, vengeful!Joel, mentions of blood, physical harm (haha guess who that’s for, hint read the first warning), fluff, reader has gender neutral pronouns, reader has no visible disabilities, Ellie and Sarah are 7 & 8 in this, if you don’t like adults with plushies get the hell off my blog ⛔️ we all protect our inner child here.
Dividers by @uzmacchiato 🧸
“Why are you crying, sweetheart?” Joel turns the corner to your bedroom and sees you sitting there on the edge of the bed, face in your hands and your head shaking when you turn from him.
You had just returned home when he called.
Your new apartment getting some used to.
Joel had been a friend of yours for a while.
Quite often, your own work collaborated with his company and through a mutual friend, Frank, you started a more friendly relationship.
Simply platonic, nothing more.
Or so you thought.
“Darlin?”
Joel sits next to you carefully, not wanting to intrude in your moment of emotion. He knows you well enough to know you don’t normally cry in front of people, usually feeling uncomfortable with the idea of expressing your outbursts publicly for fear of being coddled.
“What happened? Did that asshole give you back all your stuff?”
“I guess,” you sniffle, eyes red and lips puffy.
Joel’s eyebrows furrow, his heart pacing.
I guess isn’t good enough for him.
Joel doesn’t like working without absolutes. Either that asshole gave you everything you had and everything that belongs to you rightfully or there was going to be a problem.
“What’s missing?” Joel eyes the boxes scattered around your bedroom, one with books half pulled out and stacked half-hazardly by your bedside table.
You’re silent, your eyes distant and welling with tears.
“It’s stupid,” you harshly rub a sleeve against your face causing Joel to wince and take your hand in his own.
You look down at your small palm engulfed by his large warm fingers, rubbing soothing circles into your wrist. You lift your gaze and meet soft brown eyes, searching your own blurred vision like he was ready to travel to the underworld to take the tears away.
“It can’t be stupid if you’re so upset, honey,” Joel says, his voice low and gentle.
Your face is hot but at this point you’re not sure if it’s from how long you’ve been crying or the fact you can’t stop thinking about Joel’s calloused fingers grazing your skin.
You look away from him, deliberating telling him and ultimately you do with the thoughts that at this point it can’t hurt. There’s nothing that can be done about it now anyway.
“When I um, when I went back to the house, I went to our- his room and I used to have well, my childhood plushies on my side of the bed but…” you drop your gaze, the lines between your brows tightening.
Joel has seen this look before.
You’re angry with yourself.
“I asked him where they were and he told me I took too long that he just threw them away along with some of my other things!” Your voice gets louder with the growing anger you’re feeling and Joel gets it, his own teeth are grinding behind the thin line of his lips as he listens.
“Did he say exactly where he “threw” them?” Joel asks, his brain already scheming.
“Not at first,” you huff, “but then I picked up a glass from the side table and threw it at him.”
Joel fights a smirk from his lips. Now is not the time to be visibly attracted to that.
“He said he might’ve thrown them in the garbage or he might’ve sent them to a thrift store. He wouldn’t tell me which. He’s such a prick, Joel,” your eyes are welling up again and Joel squeezes your hand, “he just stood there grinning like he was happy he’d found another way to break me.”
“No, baby,” Joel shakes his head, his eyes intent on you when you meet his gaze again, tears falling down your cheeks, “he hasn’t broken you and I’m gonna do everything I can to find them for you.”
You shake your head exasperated.
“Joel, fuck knows where they are. Knowing him he definitely threw them in the trash. They’ve probably been incinerated somewhere.”
You’re hiccuping now and Joel can’t handle it.
The pain on your face is too much to bare.
“My Grandmother got me those plushies when I was a baby. I’m such an idiot. I just got so caught up in getting out of that fucking apartment that I forgot the two most important things in there.”
You’re beating yourself up and Joel’s had enough.
“What do they look like?” He asks, his body itching to find out as much as possible, rush to another room and call every contact he knows to track them down.
“One is a brown wolf and the other is a panda bear. They’re really old. The panda is more blue and white because of how faded the black is and my wolf is a little skinny and has one leg shorter than the others. He needed new stuffing and I had to stitch his leg back on a few years back when the cotton wore away.”
Joel knows you’re rambling because of how sad you are, reminiscing about your childhood friends but he listens just like he always does. He doesn’t play around when it comes to what matters to you and the more you go on about the intricacies of your old soft pals, the more fuel Joel has to find them.
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” you let out a heavy breath, your fingers loose in his, “maybe I need to let them go. I’m only giving him what he wants by reacting like this.”
Joel squeezes your hand again and he wants to hold you, reassure you that he will find them at all costs, even if he has to have this bastard of an ex of yours kidnapped and interrogated to find out what he did with them. Down to every last detail.
But he lets you stand, watches you take slow breaths to steady yourself and start gathering the rest of your books in the open box in front of you to put them away.
Joel joins you, quietly requesting you guide him to stock your apartment with your treasures. Anything he can do to help and he will.
After all, he was also the one who found this apartment for you. Paid the full cost himself and linked the monthly bills to his account.
Not that you knew any of that of course.
As far as you were aware, this was one of Joel’s bachelor pads he was letting you occupy for as long as you needed.
He knew you wouldn’t move in otherwise if he offered to buy the place but you’d saw the ad online and showed it to Joel. He made up some lame story that it actually belonged to him and he was going to sell it but that you could live in it while he was waiting for a buyer.
Now he had you asking if there would be any showings that you needed to be aware of.
More lies.
However, Joel had a plan.
One that involved him confessing his feelings for you.
One that involved keeping you here, safe and supported regardless of whether you reciprocated his romantic feelings or not.
Friend or lover, he would take care of you.
That asshole had treat you like hell and Joel was glad to see you rid of him.
He wanted to give you the best. Everything you could ever desire and this would be a good starting point.
Come rain or shine, Joel would bring those childhood plushies back to you, no matter the effort or the cost.
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“Joel, what the fuck is this?”
Joel rolls his eyes, a gruff response already huffing past his lips as he listens to his assistant, Tess mock the list she’s now reading through.
“Something for Sarah and Ellie?”
To be honest, he gets that Tess might think that and not that Joel thinks any which way of an adult having plushies, it would just make the request go ahead a lot easier if he complies.
“Sure,” he mutters, “for Sarah and Ellie.”
“Riggght,” Tess mumbles, her lips whispering each bullet point from the text Joel had sent earlier, “so what they lost a couple of their favourite toys and you’re trying to get them back? Bet you were the one who lost em in the first place-“ she laughs.
“Tess, focus,” Joel shakes his head, his brain doing overtime thinking about everything that needs to be done. “I need you to contact every garbage disposal unit in town and every thrift store with the description provided and tell them what we’re looking for.”
“Ookay,” Tess releases a heavy breath on the other end, “and what are you gonna do?”
Joel’s lips press into a fine line, relaxed with concentrated anger, “I’ve got something I need to handle and then I’ll join you once I’m done.”
“Noted,” Tess says, her tone taking on its more motivated edge, “I’ll get right on it.”
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The apartment you lived in before was cheap and convenient but he knew you hated it.
It barely had any windows and the front window to the lobby was smashed in and covered over with mesh.
The street itself was busy and loud, a main route for the city traffic to come piling through. You never looked like you got a good nights sleep, forever seeming tired.
Joel knew all of this just from the outside.
Truth be told, that ex of yours never let a single one of your girlfriends in and Joel had an inkling that when your ex first heard of him, you probably lied and said he was married or dating one of the other girls.
He was an utter complete control freak.
Emotionally abusive.
Just the mention of another guys name and he would flip a switch.
Joel fucking despised him the minute he saw him.
He may have been good to you once. Your heart was too pure. You must have seen something that resembled sunshine once upon a time but whatever that was fizzled out as soon as your ex trapped you within these crumbling walls.
Joel grimaced at them now from the backseat of his car. His driver having pulled over and parked, now lingering silently from the front seat.
“We doing this or what?”
Joel turned his head towards the eager voice.
“This the place?” Tommy raised a brow, his head peering past Joel and through his window.
Tommy had invited himself along for more than just the car ride. He loved you just as much as Joel did and it irked him to know you’d spent almost five years cooped up with a complete prick.
Tommy was the first person to refer to you as family, confirming in Joel’s mind that he saw you the same way and then some.
“Yeah, this is it,” Joel responds, his eyes narrowing back to the side walk.
“How d’you wanna do this?” Tommy’s voice lowers and Joel has to bite back a grin at the uncaring way he feels about roughing up your ex in his own home.
Joel would make it hurt. Payback for all the years the little fucker had spent torturing you.
“I have some words to say to him first and then I’ll let you have at him,” Joel turns his head back to Tommy who nods satisfied.
If there was one thing Tommy was always good at, it was starting a fight. God only knows the amount of times Joel got called to the police station to bail him out. Only this time, his little brothers want for emotional release wouldn’t be wasted.
“Alright, let’s get it done,” Tommy steps out the car, slamming the door behind him.
“Go for a drive around the block and come back in thirty,” Joel instructs to his driver; a young twenty something whose family had worked for Joel for years.
“You got it, boss,” the kid replies and Joel steps out the car, looking up at the one rare window to the dark apartment above.
Joel’s heart pounds.
He told himself the drive here that he was doing this for you but it was just as much for himself too. He wouldn’t let another man walk all over you again. Whether Joel was breathing or not, he would make sure you were safe.
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“Well?” Joel sits with his legs rested on his desk and his phone buried between his chin and shoulder.
Rolling tobacco between his fingers, he ignores the dried blood still present under his finger nails, too eager to know if Tess has made any progress.
“So far, nada but I’m waiting for some responses,” she replies and Joel’s eye twitches at the sound of Tess’s fingers click clacking on her keyboard on the other end.
He sighs, licking the paper of his cigarette and securing it.
You’d be frowning at him right now if you could see him.
He promised to quit and he’d reduced his smoking to almost a complete stand still but with all the excitement earlier, Joel needed to take the edge off before seeing you.
“This is important, Tess,” Joel puts the cigarette in his mouth and lights it, throwing the lighter across the table harshly and placing a finger on his temple.
He hears her scoff on the other end.
“Can you not just buy them new ones? Kids usually get over this sort of stuff. I mean how many toys do they have-“ Tess rambles.
“This is not something that can be replaced,” Joel sharply responds, his voice raised, silencing his assistant on the other end with a harsh tone.
He intakes a breath, steadying himself and flexing his fist on his thigh.
“Not everything can be replaced. I need them found and if they’re not found, it’s going to make someone- I mean Sarah and Ellie very unhappy and I can’t accept that,” Joel taps the ash from his cigarette as he speaks uneasily.
Tess is still silent a minute until she sighs through the phone and the noise in the background disappears, her voice coming in clearer.
“I understand, Joel. Give me a couple of hours and I swear I’ll find them.”
Joel smiles, smoke escaping past his lips.
“Thank you, Tess. I’ll await your call.”
He hangs up, leans his head back, taking another drag and blowing out smoke to the ceiling above.
He thinks of you and what happened earlier.
Unfortunately for your ex, Tommy had brought his lucky knuckle dusters.
When Tommy was done with him, Joel leered over the young man, his eyes taking no notice of the blood joining the other unknown stains in the carpet surrounding where your ex was splayed out.
The whole time your ex chanted about how he never hit you. That he never laid his fists on you, not once. Though physically hurting someone wasn’t the only way to torture a person and Joel knew you suffered every day you spent with this piece of shit.
Constant texts asking you where you were, an absurd amount of missed phone calls while you were trying to work. You left your phone at a technician once to remove a spy device that had been installed. You hadn’t said anything about where it might’ve come from because you already knew and when Joel found out, he knew too. It was no question. Constantly telling you what to wear, berating you for your choice of clothing, your makeup, your hair and the things you liked. He complained about your friends and got on edge every time he heard a masculine name being mentioned.
The little shit was clearly insecure as hell that you would leave him but that’s on him, not you. You don’t deserve to be at the end of his problems constantly being projected onto you.
And Joel told him all of this.
Joel told him how little of a man the fucker was and then let his brother beat him.
Three years of hurt reduced to one hour of abuse.
It didn’t feel like enough of a punishment but Joel would show him how it felt to really hurt. He would show him your pain translated into a fist being pummelled into his face repeatedly.
Tommy delivered.
Joel asked him about your plushies. The dumb kid said he’d sent them out in the trash after all.
He texted Tess immediately.
At least it would help take the focus away from anywhere else they might’ve ended up.
Joel told the brat that if he told anyone what happened, Joel would make sure he’d disappear in the night. That he would send someone to take him away and no one would ever find him again.
Thankfully, the bastard believed him and rightly so because Joel doesn’t just talk the talk. When he makes a promise, he sees it through.
The sound of Joel’s phone vibrating in his pocket woke him from his racing thoughts that the tobacco was failing to drown out.
Considering something a little stronger, he eyed the decanter of whiskey on his desk before skimming his eyes over your name on his phone screen.
He smiled and clicked answer, your voice like music to his ears.
You were more soothing than any substance Joel could ever partake in.
“Hey, darlin,” he greeted, voice soft just for you.
“Hey Joel,” you replied and he could hear the tiredness in your tone.
“You okay?” Joel asked, his brows furrowing wanting nothing more than for Tess to deliver good news so he could see you smile.
“Yeah, long day. I just wanted to hear your voice. Is that okay?”
Joel swore you had a way of melting his frozen heart. He had once thought only his daughters had that capability until you came along.
“Of course, baby.”
Little does he know your heart skips a beat at the pet name leaving his lips as it does every time he speaks to you.
“You still at work?” Joel stubs out his cigarette into an ashtray, quirking a brow at the sound of rustling papers in the background.
“Yeah,” you release a heavy breath, “just finishing up.”
Joel looks to the clock, reading 7:30pm. You were meant to clock out hours ago.
His face falls.
“Darlin, have you eaten today? You’ve had dinner, right?”
He hears you sigh and can picture you running a hand down your face.
You sound stressed.
“Not yet but I will just as soon as I get home, I promise.”
Joel meanwhile having put you on speaker phone finishes a text to his driver to wait outside for him.
“How about I come get you right now? We can go get dinner together. How does that sound?”
He hears you chuckle on the other end.
“Why did I have a feeling you would say something like that?” You’re smiling on the other end, cheeks practically hurting.
“Any excuse to see you, sweetheart,” Joel bites his inner gum, excited and eager to be with you. “How about sushi?”
“Takeout?” You ask in a nervous lilt.
Joel hums in confirmation, “Your place?”
“It’s still a little messy,” you say in small voice.
“Gotta christen it somehow, honey. First dinner in a new place,” Joel teases.
“Mm, it’s not new though. You’ve eaten dinner in there before, surely?” You’re puzzled on the other end.
Joel’s confused a minute before remembering what he had told you about the place being his.
“Oh yeah, of course but this is a first for you, right? It’ll help you settle in,” Joel grimaces.
“Yeah you’re right,” you nod on the other end and Joel releases a silent breath.
“Be there in five?” Joel’s already by the door, pulling on his overcoat.
“Can’t wait,” you say sweetly and Joel practically swoons, almost missing a step on the staircase as he ends the call with you.
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“We got em, Joel.”
Joel doesn’t think he’s ever heard Tess sound so proud before in her life and she once had to practically organise a fucking ark to send some cattle to a farm he owned a few states over, after he bought them a couple years back.
Joel shoulders sag in relief, he pinches between his eyes with a toothy grin, “I fucking knew I could count on you, Tess. You got them with you?”
“Damn right. You weren’t kidding when you said they were old. They look a little worse for wear, Joel,” she cringes, looking over the dirty bears with concern.
Joel scans the office building they’ve pulled in front of, tapping a message to you to let him know he’s out front.
He keeps an eye on the door while he talks.
“How bad are they? Any tears? Any lost limbs?”
Tess laughs on the other end, loud too.
Joel meanwhile is as serious as if he was conducting a full debrief on a wounded soldier.
“Christ Joel, you’re talking about them like they’re real but nah mostly just need a good clean. One of them is barely a plush at all, hardly has any plump to it.”
Joel has no idea Tess is holding your wolf by its foot like it’s diseased, her face scowling at it.
“Yeah…actually if you could fix that I’d be grateful,” Joel thinks aloud, conscious he’s still waiting for you.
“Uhh…I’m not much of a textiles kind of gal but I’ll do my best. You want me to drop them off in a little bit once they’re ready?” Tess asks.
Joel’s eyes light up at the sight of you tugging the building door open, your eyes wincing at the heavy downpour of rain that’s just started.
“Yeah, but uh, shit, yeah I forgot. I need you to drop them off at this address.” Joel types your apartment address and sends it across in a text.
“You bought another place? Okay. No worries. I’ll be there.”
“Just leave them by the door and drop me a text. I want it be a surprise, ya know?” Joel smiles at you when you meet his eyes through the window, running to the opposite side to escape the rain.
“Sure, be there soon,” Tess confirms and hangs up.
Joel shoves his phone in his pocket and reaches his hand forward just as you’re buckling your seatbelt, moving wet hair from your forehead.
You beam at him, dimples creasing and sending Joel’s heart crashing against his rib cage.
“Hungry?” He manages, his hand seeking yours to squeeze it affectionately.
“Starving,” you squeeze his hand back.
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Sushi went down a treat.
Even if you did scold Joel for trying to buy all your favourites with the excuse of stocking your fridge with leftovers.
To his surprise, you both ate on the bed, complaining that you needed comfort, already jumping into pyjamas and making Joel slip into a T-shirt and sweatpants to relax.
Joel encouraged you to talk about your day. Partially to keep the attention of the events of his own day but mostly because he needed to know every moment of your life when he wasn’t in it.
You were just in the middle of telling him a story about someone “accidentally” sending over twenty requests to print a kinky fan art of some fictional bounty hunter at work when, Joel felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
He distracted you by presenting a plate of chocolate mochi from the kitchen and excusing himself towards the bathroom only to detour to the entryway, opening the front door to find a panda and a wolf sitting slouched against the wall.
Joel picked them up, becoming still a moment as he looked them over.
Tess had done a fine job.
They were clean and tidy. Your wolf had some fresh stitching from where it looked newly stuffed. A little blue bow stood out on the panda possibly a little improvement added by Tess.
He’d remember to send her a thank you present later.
“Joel?” You call for him and he turns and locks back up, walking back to your room with the plushies hidden behind his back.
When he enters your room again, you’re licking chocolate powder from your fingers looking at the way Joel’s arms are shielded behind his back. Your brows knit together curiously.
“What’s going on?” You ask, grabbing a napkin and wiping your hands while you stare up at him from where he stands in front of you.
He smiles and kneels down, making your eyes go wide.
Then he presents your lost friends and your eyes dart down to them in shock.
“Managed to get the gang back together again,” he smiles warmly at you and your hands tremble when you reach for them.
“Joel…”
He urges them into your arms when you hesitate to take them from him. Joel watches the tears crowding at your waterline.
“How?” You gasp, running shaky fingers over them, admiring the new touches and smiling at the renewed plumpness of your wolf.
Joel releases a heavy breath.
It seemed no better time to do this than right now.
After the day he’s had and the way you were on his mind every second of it, he needed you to know how he felt.
Joel places his hands on your knees and your eyes meet his.
“I would do anything for you. I hope you know that and if you didn’t,” he looks to the way you clutch your treasured childhood toys to your chest, “I hope that this proves that I will do anything to make you happy. I’d go to hell and back for you and repeat the process a thousand times over just to see you secure and safe.”
You blink back more tears meeting your jawline and running down towards the neckline of your shirt. Joel runs the back of his fingers up your neck gently and you let him.
You let him wipe the tears away.
“You matter to me in more ways than I ever know how to show sometimes but if you’d let me, darlin, I’d like to show you. I’d like to show you how much you mean to me,” Joel takes in a breath, “I’d like to show you how much I love you.”
“Joel…” you cry, your lips trembling, “but this is everything,” you shake your plushies against your chest, “you didn’t judge me and you- you got them back for me. If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t do that.”
“There’s more that I could do,” Joel’s hands find your face, his body closer to yours now, crowding you at the edge of the bed.
“I want to be yours, baby and I want you to be mine.”
Your breath hitches, his thumbs soothing your hot skin.
“I want to give you everything and I already started. This apartment is yours. I bought it for you. I’m sorry I lied but I wanted you to have something that was completely yours and I had the means to give it to you.”
You smile, your eyes evading his as your cheeks flush. You had a feeling it was too good to be true. You had a feeling Joel may have never previously owned the building to begin with but it wouldn’t have surprised you if he did.
“When I saw how sad you were when you lost these,” he drops his hand from your face to pinch the ear of your panda plush, “I knew I could get them back for you and I knew I’d do anything to do it. I never want to keep the truth from you so I’ll be honest and say I even interrogated the little shit to find out exactly where they were.”
Your eyes widen with awe, “Joel, you-“
“I had to and I’d do it again. I’d do it a thousand times. I’d fight a fucking army, baby, I’d do it because I love-“
Your lips crash against Joels.
He’s so taken aback to start with until he feels your fingers moving through his hair and instinctively, his palms graze over your hips and press up against your lower back to keep you held against him as close and as tightly as possible.
You pull back, taking in the smitten flush across Joel’s face when he meets your eyes.
It seemed you had an ability to surprise him too.
“I love you too, Joel.”
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A year later…
“And they never belonged to them to begin with?! How am I only finding this out now?!” Tess exclaims, downing another glass of red wine in a long gulp, her voice raising louder above the music being played.
You giggle and Joel rolls his eyes.
He eyes the rings on your fingers for the hundredth time that night.
He leans down and places a kiss against your temple.
Married.
And Joel is prepared to fight death to make sure you never part.
You giggle again and raise a brow at Joel, “what did you tell Tess?”
Joel looks towards the dance floor at your wedding reception finding the small tail of a blazer and a golden dress skirt weaving in and out of tables, laughter carrying over the sounds of feet dancing and two familiar soft animals clutched in their palms.
You follow his line of sight, laughter bubbling in your throat.
You meet his wink and grin, “well technically, it’s not a lie now anyway.”
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marstons-angel · 1 year ago
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i thought of you so often.
arthur morgan x reader.
✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.
✧ wc : 2.4k (???)
✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.
✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.
He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.
You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.
On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.
You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.
It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.
It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.
Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.
Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.
Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.
Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.
You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.
(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.
"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)
But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.
You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.
You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.
And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.
A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.
The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.
So you're thinking on it.
The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.
Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.
You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.
"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.
Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.
The first few pages are nothing special.
A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.
You really love this man helplessly.
You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.
It feels like ages ago now.
You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.
There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.
It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.
Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.
You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.
She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.
Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.
You can't tear your eyes away.
Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.
Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.
Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.
You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.
I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.
She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.
One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.
After Arthur had been kidnapped.
I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.
Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.
A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.
The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.
Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.
You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.
You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.
Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.
Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.
My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.
Damn that man.
When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.
Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.
In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.
"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"
You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.
Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.
"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"
You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.
"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"
His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.
"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."
You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.
"Found your journal. The one about me,"
He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.
"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"
You shake your head.
"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"
He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."
You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.
"I love you, Arthur."
"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"
"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"
"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."
"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"
Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
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orchidsarchives · 1 year ago
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Ok so I was thinking about this the other day. You know how Dick is usually a detective or a cop? Imagine Jason as a firefighter.
Mans will lift you like you’re nothing and I bet he’s in one of those firemen calendars.
I honestly think he would be amazing as a firefighter.
IM SCREAMING!! Here are some firefighter!Jason headcanons, I hope you like them!
- firefighter!Jason has a sleeve, his tattoos are all over the place, but they’re cohesive and very aesthetically pleasing
- he has a small calcifer (the little fire demon from howls moving castle) tattoo hidden somewhere on his arm
- he adores his job because he loves helping and protecting people
- he’s kinda cringey and he makes fire/heat puns and jokes when he’s on duty
- children LOVE him because he’s so kind
- he always volunteers to do tours of the fire station with kindergarten and middle school kids
- he hands out lollipops and stickers at the end of each tour
- he’s really strong and can lift anyone (regardless of their weight or height), he spends a lot of time training his body and is very proud of it
- he is low key a SLUT!!! let me elaborate: yk when firefighters wear their uniform only around their waist and legs, and the top half is like a normal shirt…? yeah so imagine that with Jason.
- he walks around the fire station wearing a black compression shirt and it’s hugging his body so deliciously. you can see bits of his silver chain sticking out and his tattoos are on display… he looks so HOT (noo im turning into cringey fire pun Jason…)
- when he first joined the force, he thought that saving cats and animals from trees wouldn’t be a common occurrence
- it was. and he took home two strays.
- he named them arson and sparks (shout out to the two cats i saw at the pet store)
- as much as Jason is a silly little guy, he also takes his job very seriously
- he spends time comforting victims and trying his best to make sure that they’re safe
- if there’s a house fire, he tries to save everything but definitely does prioritize items that could be sentimental or of value
- he never leaves candles burning for too long, same with irons and stoves
- he is very careful and constantly warning people about potential fires and the consequences of not being careful around hot objects
- okay let’s go back to silly
- this one time the guys at the station made a bet and the loser had to take pictures for a “hot firefighter” calendar… yeah… Jason lost…
- his shirtless pictures were plastered all over the station the next day and he wasn’t even embarrassed
- he’d just smile when people mentioned it
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honey-tongued-devil · 7 months ago
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[Arcane Preference] And Their Favorite Hot Drink
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Every time I say I want to make at least three, and every time it takes me a month to make three. But between today and tomorrow, I want to post something else with a cozy/winter theme, so stay tuned. Meanwhile, in my little self-promotion corner, I'll let you know that you can find my fanart here, and here you can find a fanfiction I'm working on, if you want to check out my other projects!
socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 |
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Jayce:
Hot tea.
With lots of cookies, not just one or two like nobles who drink tea to be chic.
He drinks tea because it makes the cookies taste better and softer.
And if I told you he prefers fruity tea?
Basically, he likes a strong flavor, and fruity teas have the most aroma, although having grown up as the Kirammans’ ward, he’s learned to drink it in any form.
Viktor:
Sweet milk.
Or milk and honey.
Occasionally, milk, coffee, caramel, and whipped cream if he wants to be fancy, but he never has the time, so it’s usually just sweet milk.
He has such a stockpile that statistically, at least one bottle is expired, but it doesn’t matter; he doesn’t pay attention to those things.
Ekko:
Cappuccino. It’s quick, it’s hot, it gives energy, and the milk makes it sweet enough without adding sugar.
Easy to find and great for the group because it’s not expensive—just steal an industrial-sized can of milk and some instant coffee, and he can make it for more than 20 people.
Tea is problematic because there are no plants in Zaun, and in Piltover, they either sell it in small doses or loose.
Vander:
Hot chocolate, because I say so.
This man was born to be a father, and what do kids love? Hot chocolate.
Hard to come by in Zaun, which is why he always adds chocolate bars or cocoa powder as an extra price in his smuggling deals.
It became his favorite because of the connection it has with his kids and his happy place.
Silco:
Whiskey doesn’t count as a hot drink, and that’s a bit of a problem.
But luckily, coffee exists.
Not American coffee, long and watered down, but espresso.
He holds the small cup in his hands to warm himself, but subtly enough that no one notices.
Jinx:
Sugar.
Not a hot drink, sure, but any drink works for her if it has enough sugar.
Milk and honey remind her of when she was little, tied to special occasions when her parents actually managed to get honey.
But pretty much anything works for her: fruity teas with three tablespoons of sugar, hot chocolate with one spoonful, cappuccino with two…
Vi:
Anything works for her as long as the cup is big enough to warm her hands.
Simple and easy-to-find drinks are great, sure, but no one can convince me her favorite drink isn’t either hot chocolate with rum or a complex, spiced Piltover-style beverage.
She doesn’t mind sweetness but never adds sugar to her drinks—she’d rather choose something with natural sweet notes.
Caitlyn:
Tea.
English breakfast tea with sugar and milk is something her parents made her during festive mornings, so it holds sentimental value.
But the tea she’s used to drinking is Oolong or Yorkshire, typical of the five o’clock tea tradition with her mother and occasionally their guests.
Mel:
Coffee and variations.
In my little artist brain, Piltover has an ethical equivalent of Starbucks, and that café is Mel’s happy place.
Coffee is easier to find for sure, but coffee-based drinks with caramel, ginger, and plant-based milk are absolutely her favorite.
She loves sipping them slowly, savoring the flavors, taking half an hour or more to finish her cup.
Sevika:
Whiskey.
No, she won’t accept that it doesn’t count as a hot drink.
She doesn’t like milk, but if she’s forced to have it, she spikes it with whiskey or gin.
The same goes for hot chocolate.
She’s not a coffee person either; she doesn’t see the point of drinking something so bitter without a real purpose.
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thirdmagic · 3 months ago
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to me this is what slay the princess is really all about. not about grand concepts of life and death, not about some distant cosmic concepts, it's about a very specific thing about our lives and how we deal with them.
it's about the fear that the things that happened to you shaped you in a way that made you worse and you need to fix and undo them, the fear that if this bad thing didn't happen to you, you would be better, and how, no: there is no judgement to be made on your experiences or how they shaped you. your experience do not worsen or better you, they just change you, and that change is important and good because it makes you more complete and fleshed out as a person.
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you can bring such a huge variety of difference princesses to the shifting mound, parts of her who have experienced a huge range of emotions and events, from tragedy and pain to happiness and love and everything in between, princesses with a huge range of personalities and character, and she sees value in every single one of them. no matter how dark, painful, horrible a chapter it is, no matter what awful things have happened to them, no matter what kind of princess it is or how cruel or horrible she is or what she's done, she can find value in them, because they add to her, and complete her.
she can find beauty and meaning and substance in the vicious razor, appreciate her joyfulness, she sees the vengeful and petty witch as righteous because her bitterness from the betrayal she experiences formed in her an idea of right and wrong, she describes the terrifying nightmare as tender because she sees her inner sadness and sensitivity, she describes the vicious and vengeful wraith as 'driven' because she sees her power of will and determination.
she does not make any moral judgements on either the 'good' or 'bad' princesses, she sees their experiences and the traits and understanding of the world they add to her.
the important thing to her is to have experiences and perspectives that flesh her out and add to her, they let her grow and gain substance and understanding. she has nothing bad to say about any of them, and the only 'bad' thing she has to say isnt a bad thing it all, it's not having much to say at all about a damsel who has little experiences and little to offer her, and it's not a sentiment she ever expresses on her own.
and i mean, it says it right here at the start of the game right, 'there are no wrong decisions, there are only fresh perspectives and new beginnings'. and then this line from the ending where you return to th stranger:
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this applies to TLQ too. tlq is stillness so he doesnt change as the shifting mound does, but he also has parts of himself and his character as represented by the voices, and all of them serve their purpose. all of them have value. they are not bad or good, they are not better or worse, they just are.
and like, to me where this actively applies to real life isn't this that you should seek out negative or bad experiences, or that you should actively suffer to build character or anything so extreme. it's a way to understand the bad things that already did happen and the pain and trauma you did experience, and a way to understand the pain and trauma that sometimes is inevitable as just a part of any life experience, because the most important and valuable thing to a person is to have any kinds of life experiences, positive or negative. and in the case of the negative, you are shaped and changed by it, but you are not worsened, you just become more. it carve texture around your heart.
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theofthevalley · 23 days ago
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hi! can i request hcs of tenna with a gn reader who loves matching items with him? (for example like accessories or clothes). uty to decide whether the reader is lightner or darkner!
“It’s A Match!”
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Mr. Ant Tenna Headcanon’s with GN Darkner!Reader
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ You were a big fan of a certain TV’s gameshow, it was to the point where you would buy or even make outfits or items just so you could match with him. His suit? Oh, you have a handmade one similar to it! It’s gotten to the point where you look like you’re cosplaying him sometimes, which wasn’t really out of the ordinary. Of course, you tend to tone it down in public; you couldn’t go out looking like a super fan.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ But at one of his shows? You’re in the crowd jumping around and cheering his name when he comes up on stage, whilst wearing a red suit similar to his own. Today, his shows were a bit different; usually, he has contestants already in their places on stage, but it seemed like he was pulling contestants from the audience today. You had somehow managed to get picked from the array of people, and then you realized how embarrassing it was that you were sort of matching with him once you stepped up on the stage.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Tenna, of course, immediately noticed and made a comment about it out loud to the whole audience. You stand behind the stand in embarrassment, but at least you were there, standing in front of your idol and even participating in his show!
“Look at that, folks! Aren't you something, we're matching!”
“Uh yeah! I did it on purpose since I'm such a big fan, but I wouldn't have imagined being up here.”
That was your first meeting with Tenna, as a contestant on his show. Soon, he saw you again and again in the crowd. You weren't lying when you said you were his biggest fan; most of the people in the crowd he had to bribe with points to stay, and yet you were just there because you enjoyed his shows.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ The more you attended his shows, the more he saw you. And that caused him to focus on you, especially when you're in the audience cheering him on and clapping for him. From then on, he was looking forward to seeing you. After some more time, you somehow became friends with him, and that allowed for more matching. You gave him matching friendship bracelets, matching clothes, and other accessories.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Tenna found the whole matching thing cute and fun. It was always a question of what you would match with and how you would present it. The closer you got to him, the easier it was to match. Oh, you want to wear matching ties one day? He's already on it, thinking about what patterns there are to choose. But since you were friends now, it was just small stuff here and there. A tie or maybe even a bracelet, small things to match with in friendship! But, the more your relationship grew to something more romantic, the more you ended up matching with him.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Once you're in an established relationship with Tenna, he won't ever let you go. If anything, matching with him makes him more attached to you. Especially if it gets to the point where you match in jewelry. Tenna was actually the one who asked you to wear a ring for him out of the blue, one that matches the one he suddenly bought.
“Y/N! Darling, look, I got us matching rings!”
“Oh, these are beautiful, Tenna, but why'd you get these? As far as I'm aware, there's no special occasion.”
“Aha, that’s where you're wrong! This is a special occasion, me giving this ring to you, a promise of our future together.”
“Ohh, Tenna…you’re too sweet.”
So now you've gained a new item, a promise ring. It held sentimental value, and it was the most important matching accessory you had. It made everything all the more real. Your love and adoration for one another were shown by the things you shared. So receiving a gift like this from him was more than you could ask for.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ From then on, for a few weeks or so, Tenna spent a good minute at least once on his show talking about his amazing partner and the ring they share. Or he would mention that he's matching with you today to the audience. He basically makes it apparent to everyone that your lovers and no one else should be matching with you besides him. Tenna adores every aspect of matching with you, and there's no shot he would decline your offer to match with him. With Tenna, he will 100% match with you even if the outfit looks ridiculous.
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ Advertisement: Hey you! Yeah you, the person who read this whole thing, do you like Tenna? Well this blog is THE place for Tenna fanfiction. Check my bio if I have requests open and my rules. I HAVE MY ASKS OPEN JUST FOR HIM RAHHH!!
A/N: Me when I make up scenarios for asks...anyways! I hope you liked this, dear Anon! WOO!!!
Word Count: 773 words
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deerspherestudios · 5 months ago
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AAAA I’m always too shy to come off anon, but because I don’t have to for the moment, I just wanted to say that I love Mushroom Oasis so much!!!! Mycheal is just such a well fleshed out character - he isn’t the embodiment of a trope or presented as solely good or evil, but is both consistent and contradictory in a way that feels (ironically) very human. He is shown to act in accordance with a deeper set of core values rather than just the surface level opinions or feelings which might present themselves more obviously. He also has multiple of these core values that inform his decisions, which is shown very well in how he fights with himself and comes to conclusions in order to remedy those internal (and external) conflicts. He lies, he’s aware and unaware of certain aspects of himself, and he responds differently based on his current state but is always loyal to his underlying motivations and character traits. He’s good at certain things and bad at others, even within the same field, but has core strengths that inform these proficiencies. It’s hard to describe in words what all I’m referring to, but if I had to summarize it: Mycheal has a set of core, largely static values and capabilities shaped by his experiences that inform all of his decisions and behaviors. He also has temporary states of being, informed by his interpretations of past experiences and core values. You are able to keep these core values stable (while changing them, which is even harder to accomplish convincingly) as he responds differently to different situations, which is something I don’t think I see often in most characters. Mycheal is just so layered and his complexity is written beautifully!
Hopefully at least some of that made sense akdjdjs - ultimately, I just wanted to share the sentiment that your writing is phenomenal and that I explode every time I think of your mushroom man! He is beautiful both as a specimen for character study and as an individual to simp for, so thank you for sharing him with the world!
A shorter, but no less earnest, comment on Astronought: I ADORE how subversive it is! I never thought I’d see a VN where the love interest turned out to be multiple entities. Well. Kind of?They’re a Hivemind, so they’re only multiple entities in a sense. Gah, Atom is so cool! I can’t wait to hear more about them, even if only in asks every once in a while.
Genuinely, thank you so much for sharing your games with the community - I think I speak for all of us when I say that I really, really enjoy them. Have a wonderful rest of your day :)
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Anon where are yuo anon come off anon so i can hold ur hand and thank you peersonally anon
Also, as I double check the queue I just realized today (22nd Feb) is the 2nd year anniversary for Mushroom Oasis!! So it's only fitting that it's my turn to thank the community alongside this person, for being here as I continue working on this project!
You're all wonderful people and I can't express enough how much the support means to me! ❤️🍄🎉
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gay-dorito-dust · 22 days ago
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Hello! I want to say I love your fics- I've been here for a while- I followed you because of your gravity falls fic and now you write for DC- I love your writing so much ❤️ I just love it how you write for most fandoms I'm in 🥹
I haven't really had the guts to send you an ask or anything- this is my first 🥹
But if you are open to it,
May I request the Batboys + Bruce Reacting to Reader being insecure because of having a plushie they had since birth, it has been with them since childhood and hasn't left their side ever since they were a child, it was old dirty and they didn't like washing it because it was sentimental to them-
I have one exactly like It and I'm a bit insecure about it- I never really dated before because I think people will think it as a childish thing-
My friends told me it's fine and normal and it's human but it's still an insecurity-
I like to blab a lot my bad- I love your works again! Please keep writing ❤️ it's okay if you can't write this too no pressure! Sending love!! ❤️❤️❤️
sweetheart, there is nothing wrong with having a childhood plush. you have your reasons for having them and that is all that should matter. It shouldn't be something you're insecure about just becuase of how other people might interpret it, that's their problem, not yours to figure out. you've got a childhood toy, so what? i have one if i looked deep enough in my house for it and it has been with me since i could remember, so don't ever feel ashamed of having something that means so much to you on a level some narrow minded people won't understand.
It's special to you, holds alot of value to you and your friends are correct, it's perfectly normal human thing to have, i promise you it's nothing to be insecure over at all and it's not childish in the slightest. And if anyone says anything, i'll fight them for you!
Jason isn't one to judge himself as he still had that paperback of the first book he had nicked when he was under Bruce's tutilage, sitting on the bookshelf amongst the other books that he has lying in wait to be read again, yet also perfectly showing the framed familiar photo of his younger self and Bruce.
So Jason knows a thing or two about having things that have sentimental values that you just can't be apart from, even if the memories connecting to that thing aren't exactly ones that he wants to ever go back, instead keeping them in memorium of the boy he used to be and knowing that he'd hate the man he had to become against his will.
Jason could never hold it against you for possessing something that helps you and means so much to you. So seeing you look so small as he sees the plushy on your bed made his heart ache, thinking that he had proven himself as someone who would welcome every part of you, much like you have welcomed every part of him.
'Oh sweetheart.' Jason says softly as he holds your face, caressing your cheeks as he gently tilts your head up from looking at the floor and look into his eyes. 'Don't ever be ashamed of having something linked to your childhood, i don't ever want you to feel as if it's something to be ashamed of, not with me as that's not how i want our relationship to be.' He adds as he kisses your forehead, casting away those negative thoughts as far away from you as he can.
'it's not throwing you off?' you asked, looking at him for any lies you may find that he tried to hide, only to find none as he laughs and brings you in close to his chest, rubbing his hands up and down your back.
'Absolutely not.' Jason replied without hesitation. 'i'm staying here for the long wrong sweetheart so i hope your plush is okay with another person to share a bed with.' He adds as he looks over at the plush that flops onto the bed, almost as if it was giving Jason it's consent and approval for him to take care of you now.
Dick will find it sweet that you've got such a plush, he doesn't care about it's condition and would never make it an issue either, it's not his style.
He would want to know how ans when you got it and why it -above the other plushies you might've gotten in your childhood- was your most precious possesion. He'd love to listen to your stories and love the plushy as much as you did, for he didn't see it as just a plushy he only saw it as an extension of you, and he would treat the plushy with the respect it deserved for keeping you grounded and calm for all this time.
Yet when he saw how much you wanted to seemingly leave the second he saw your plush propped up on your desk, greeting you both with it's button eyes and stitched smile that you've been accostomed to for a long time, Dick can't help but feel as though he had done something wrong or didn't do enough to prove that he didn't care about the fact that you had a plush.
'who's this cutie?' He'd ask, wanting to ease you up again, 'they're not my replacement are they?' he adds jokingly as you began to find humour in the idea that Dick was comparing himself to the worn plush you've had since you were little.
'no, they're my childhood toy, hope that's not weird or embrassing.' you tell him.
Dick moves towards your plush and gently grabs their paw as though greeting it as though it was a sentient thing. 'it's actually an honour to see the plush that has kept you protected and secure for a long time, keeping you grounded and providing you a sense of calm when things get too much.' Dick then lets go of it's paw ans looks at you with a warm smile and even warmer gaze. 'it's nothing to be ashamed of, it's perfectly normal and shouldn't have to be hidden to make others comfortable at your own expense.' He finishes as he makes his way towards you and hold your hands in his.
'you're not freaked out? or disgusted?' you asked, still not certain of the whole thing.
'no. my opinion shouldn't matter becuase it doesn't, only yours and if having a childhood plush helps you, then that's all that matters.' Dick tells you as he kisses the tip of your nose.
Damian is going to ask questions but they are purely for learning purposes only.
He would never ever insult you for the fact that you carry something ever since you could speak your first words, so when he is satisfied with the awnsers given to him, Damian finds it honourable that you have something that keeps you grounded and reminds you of home.
He does his research on the pychology behind having a plushy, followed up by the benifits of having one are in order to fully understand why some people would keep their childhood stuffed toys, and making sure that Ace and Titus stay away from your plush at all times in case they mistake it as something they can play with.
He might make a face when he first sees it but it's mainly one of curiosity, tilting his head to the side as he tries to figure out the conection between you and this worn out but heavily loved plush, wheras you were regretting putting it away and out of sight and were about to when Damian keeps you from doing so by putting his hand on yours. 'why are you trying to hide it?' he would ask.
'It's weird of an adult to have an toy from their childhood, it's not soemthing that i should have anyways.' you tell him, pulling your hand from his grip as the empty feeling within you seemed to only worsen as your throat tightned with emotion that you'd let out when you were alone.
Damian furrows his brows as he looks at you and realises that his reaction was taken a you thinking he believes your weird for having a plush, and he was quick to correct this misunderstanding by holding your hand, intertwining your fingers together to prevent you from running away. 'There are research behind this sort of thing, you shouldn't feel regret or shame for having something that helps you and offers support with it's weighed attributes for a more grounding affect.' He begins as he tugs you to his side as he sits you both down on the bed, his thumbs caressing the back of your hand in silence reassurance.
'If anyone choses to raise their voice agaisnt you. Let me know and i shall have them delt with swiftly, for no one should ever spout words of venom at you, not for something that makes you feel safe and secure and in such cases allow me to be another source of reassurance and safety.' Damian continues in the way he knows how, defending your honour by using the methods he was raised to use to his advantage against those who claim it's childish.
For to him they were simply too childish if they couldn't understand themselves.
Bruce will find the plush cute as well, fully understanding the whole sentimentality that comes with having something from a young age, so he's not going to hold it agaisnt you for having a plush as an adult.
He knows the benifits of having a childhood plush and how it can reduce stress and or anxiety and bring a sense of comfort for you that he might not be able to give himself. He recagnises your childhoos plush as a source of calm in your hectic life, something that brings you back to better memories and moments that are attached to the plushy you kept.
So when he does first see the plush he doesn't show much of a reaction, acting like it's the most normal thing he's ever come across in his life, but he could see the hunch in your shoulders and the clench in your jaw that his lack of a reaction was only making your intenal thoughts even worse then before.
'If you think i'm going to shame you for having a keepsake from your childhood, then i haven't done enough on my part to do what your plush has been doing for twice as long.' He says as he looks at the plush and could easily envision you cudiling it agaisnt your chest, easily envison how it brought you down from the most stressful moments of your life thus far. 'You shouldn't have to stress about what i think about it for it doesn't matter, there's psychology and science that backs up the reason for keeping ahold of something from your past, so please don't think i'm against it when i'm actually all for it.' He adds with a small smile.
'you're not wierded out or find it silly?' you asked, still a little unsure of his acceptance of your childhood plush, thinking it to be too good to be true.
Bruce brings you into his side, kissing your temple once, twice as he squeezes your side. 'of course not, this is your anchor, your friend who has been a constant in your ever changing life, something you can always rely on to never change when it seems like eveything is moving at a faster pace for you.' He kisses your temple a third time, pratically cuddiling you to his chest now as he felt you burry into his chest.
'I would never ask you to give up your comfort for me, to put you to in a constant state of discomfort. So please don't feel as though you have to change yourself to appease others for no one is ever appeased, so you're best to staying true to yourself against it all.' Bruce finishes as the plush on your bed seemingly watched you both, happy that you had found someone that was more then accepting of you and everything you come with.
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unsolicited-opinions · 4 months ago
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weve been moots for a while and its interesting, i feel like you have gotten a little more "radicalized" ans turned slightly more rightwing than when you first started posting abt i/p
I wouldn't say more right wing. On domestic policy, I still align pretty well with the Bernie Sanders end of the liberal spectrum.
Here's a ranty infodump:
I still think that Trump is the most dangerous President in US history. I think he's our Hitler/Mussolini/Franco. I think his support of Israel and his supposed opposition to antisemtism are products of political convenience, not principle/values/solidarity. I think he'll turn on both when the political winds change. I think his party's base includes a massive number of white supremacists, Christian Nationalists, and antisemites to whom he and his allies dogwhistle often.
I still think the GOP is completing its transition to fascism.
I continue to despise Netanyahu. I still loathe Otzma Yehudit. I still think that Israel was wrong to continue to invest in West Bank settlements for decades. I still think that the situation in the West Bank is unsustainable.
- I still think there hasn't been an honest partner working towards peace in leadership on either side for decades.
Some views have definitely changed, though, as I've read more broadly on the latest war which Israel did not want and did not choose...but must fight and win anyway.
- I am no longer able extend the benefit of the doubt to antisemites on the right or on the left, domestically or internationally, because I've come to see them as either nakedly hateful or wilfully ignorant. There aren't any other plausible explanations for their words and deeds.
- I no longer believe there's any principled, informed antizionism which isn't antisemitic.
- I'm out of sympathy for people who are brainwashed by the far right or the far left because they find it easier than thinking for themselves.
- I continue to find the suffering of the non-combatants of Gaza appalling, but I think the responsibility for that suffering rests mostly with Hamas and a popular sentiment among Palestinians which prioritizes Israel's destruction over building a Palestinian state.
- I think that real, awful suffering has been exaggerated by Hamas' propoganda war (which I think Hamas is winning, with Qatar's help).
- I think that while no war has ever been free of war crimes and it would not surprise me if members of the IDF have commited war crimes, I don't believe that Israel has conducted this war in an immoral manner. I think that if a Labor Prime Minister had been in power on 10/7/23, the war would not have gone much differently.
- I no longer believe that there's ever been any significant movement for Palestinian statehood. I believe now that the goal has always been Israel's destruction, and never the "liberation" of the Arabs of the Levant. If a state had ever been the goal, there would be a Palestinian state.
- I no longer believe that institutions like the UN, Amnesty International, or the BBC can be assumed to be acting in good faith and merely incompetent. The lies are too frequent, too blatant, and too obvious to have benign explanations.
- I still think that many US Jews are so freaked out by leftist antisemitism that they're failing to understand the very real danger of the Christian Nationalist, White Supremacist, xenophobic, misogynistic administration which weilds levels of power unparalleled in US history. I think that US Jews who ally with Trump or his movement will eventually regret it.
- I have come to believe that no lasting peace is possible until Hamas is destroyed and the people who elected them are deradicalized. For Israel to walk away from this conflict without destroying Hamas is just an invitation to continue this war in a handful of years in what appears to be a never-ending cycle.
Another round of this cycle benefits nobody.
- I understand better now what happened to the Labor party, why and how the second intifada changed Israel's electorate.
- I have become angry that my 14yo feels safe as an LGBTQ person in Jewish spaces, but not at all safe as a Jew in LGBTQ spaces.
- I have become angry at the way the far left (and much of what I once thought was the center-left) has revealed itself to be just as intellectually lazy and as morally bankrupt as the far right.
- I've come to reject the cultural relativism which says the lack of rights for women, LGBTQ people, and ethnic/religious minorities in all of Israel's neighbors is anything but appalling.
- While I continue to criticize the many profound failings of the Western world, I would not under any circumstances trade the Western world and its deeply flawed nature for the world promoted by its enemies. Classical liberalism is the force behind not just the liberation and enfranchisement of Jews in the West, but most of the forward progress the world has made lifting humanity out of sickness and poverty at record rates in recent decades.
- I have come to see the hypocrisy of Israel's detractors as historically unique, despite my affection for learning new and exciting ways to criticize Israel...by reading Israelis.
- There's no longer any political leader or pundit with whom I consistently agree.
At best, there are a handful who I think are genuinely knowledgeable and intellectually honest (like Haviv Rettig Gur or maybe Ezra Klein) and I cringe inwardly when people like Douglas Murray, Ben Shapiro, or Dennis Prager present a rational, fair, honest, historically accurate defense of Israel...because I find a number of their positions on other matters repulsive.
- While I think it's wrong that many DEI programs have not recognized Jews as a persecuted minority, I just haven't been able to buy the argument that DEI programs are innately antisemitic. I think they need reform, not destruction.
So yes, my views have changed. I aim to be open about that because they'll change again as I continue to read and learn.
More conservative, though? I don't think so.
I think we need more and better models for understanding political alignment now than this single unidimensional spectrum from Left to Right.
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thewertsearch · 3 months ago
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TT: [...] I got a little help from RL and ganked it out of his museum. [...] GG: [...] Wasn't he furious about your burglary? TT: Pretty sure he didn't even notice. In years since, I never saw a news story about a "daring heist" or anything. I feel like he would have made some hay outta that.
Lil' Bro thinks he's more likely to get news about Dave from a newspaper than from the man himself.
...yeah, Dave has absolutely no involvement in this kid's life. That's better than giving him the Bro treatment, I guess, but the bar is on the floor.
Jane - the child being brainwashed by an alien - might just have the best home life in her entire friend group. That's fucked up, man.
GG: Why didn't you mention this when you gave the gift? More irony? TT: Essentially. It's not that easy to explain. TT: Broadcasting the gesture would have made it seem tawdry, and would somewhat defray its humor value. GG: I see. So it was like a private joke, and if anyone besides you was in on it, the joke would be ruined! TT: Like I said, there are layers.
Unlike John, Jane is sincerely interested in her friend's post-ironic nonsense. She actually likes this style of humor, and Bro's more than happy to yap philosophical about how it works. I suppose Jane's sense of humor isn't quite as cornball as John's, so she's willing to engage with Bro's more cerebral style of comedy.
As a result...
TT: On one level, I gave you a filthy tattered piece of shit[...] TT: On another level, I needed to incorporate something passable as a real heirloom. TT: For sentimental reasons. GG: D'awwwww. GG: Wait, real sentiment, or ironic sentiment? TT: No, it was genuine. TT: The upper echelons of irony should always include measures of sincerity. [...] GG: I have so much to learn. And I am not even saying that "ironically!"
...they're kind of besties, aren't they?
GG: Will you teach me your ways one day, sir? Perhaps an apprenticeship will open? TT: Oh god, I'd love that. TT: Consider the position yours for the taking any time. [...]
Like, I said before, it's obvious that Lil' Bro is a lonely kid - so when Jane offers him her company here, I think it means much, much more to him than she realizes.
TT: [...] Feel free to approach and kneel before Cal. With my sword and his floppy mitten, you will receive my flashstep anointment shoulder to shoulder, and to shoulder again.
lmao
I never thought that Bro of all people would be involved in such a wholesome interaction, but I'm pleasantly surprised. If these two end up falling out over the Jake issue, I'm going to be so sad.
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danieyells · 2 months ago
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UPCOMING CARD!! And the cast for this episode!!!
OKAY MY SHIT IS TOGETHER ENOUGH NOW. This is so fucking funny chat my throat hurts from laughing there are tears in my eyes I GUARANTEE YOU NOT A SINGLE PERSON GOT THE WHOLE CAST RIGHT. I was laughing so much at all of this that i just could not even sit down and get this together for like an hour
So normally they put out multiple cards at once but they decided to say fuck you to me and everyone else and they only put one in lmao. So anyway OUR FIRST BACHELOR IS JIN, THE ONE WE ALL KNEW WAS GONNA BE IN IT! And I'll tell you the other five as well as the next episode's title!
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You may be thinking! Danie! Who is that guy! Is that a Sho(?) character card and a Jin warding card? I thought you said they only put one card in! Did they upload them wrong?? Nope! That is Jin!! They just put his hair back a little!!! And he doesn't look like himself at all because the expression and different hair is throwing it off!!! And i am dying of laughter--his warding card looks so cute and baby faced in comparison?
Character Card: Summer Breeze(「夏を染める氷貴」  "Summer Dyed Ice King") Skill: Cold Musician(「冷淡な演奏者」  "Cold Musician") Fully Awakened Skill: Frozen Love(「凍てついた愛」  "Frozen Love") Warding Card: A Letter From The Pianist(「ピアニストからの手紙」  "A Letter From The Pianist")
No cosmic bonds yet! But instead I'll tell you who else is going to be in the episode!
Our six elligible bachelors are. . . .
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Jin! Haru! Ren! Rui! Ed! And Jiro!! And they'll get both bachelor suits and swimwear sprites!! (We'll also get a sprite for Jin's city card outfit too!)
Half of this cast are going to be dead or wish they were dead by the end of this i am going to lose my mind this has the potential to be SO funny
Episode 18's title is "Lost Stars"(「七夕の迷い子」 "The Lost Child Of Tanbata")! Unfortunately they're continuing the trend of not putting the next episode sprites in until the day the episode comes out, so we won't have any clue who's in it until we get to the end of this episode. . .but given it's around a Japanese festival, Hotarubi maybe???
I'm going to go laugh some more and read the episode titles with my friends lol.
Some of you were already upset when i spoiled the cast. I know it sucks to see a big inter house squad episode that your favorite isn't in. Especially if you're really fixated on seeing them in a roamntic light and you were looking forward to seeing how they perform in a silly dating game. But just remember that your favorite will have their time in other episodes. No need to fret, just be patient. And, if you're into this sentiment, remember that they love and want to see you too, even if they don't quite show it in a straightforward way.
And if you're disappointed by the card for your favorite, be happy! That's more diamonds for next time. You can always voice your feelings to ZZG themselves too, although I wouldn't count on them making any changes. . . .
Gacha is gambling! There are probably FIVE more cards coming after this for this episode!! There's no need to go crazy spending trying to get this card--or any of the coming ones!--because the banners will always rerun and you'll get more chances to pick them up later! If you do decide to spend, keep a close eye on your spending and set limits for yourself. And make sure you keep to them! Take care of yourself first and foremost! That means making sure you have the money for necessities and for more certain entertainment and pleasures! Happiness is a necessity too!
I normally throw innsome kind of character or card themed advice here but. . .let's be real, Jin would just tell you to choose him. And let's be real he has the money to make him a good choice no matter what. . .gold digging is always a morally acceptable choice, as long as you're not in danger!! But remember that a clash in values can be dangerous too! That's my advice.
Stats!! Oh fuck i eas laughing so much i forgot the in game screenshot for the stats
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Good night! See you probably Monday?
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superbat-lmao · 5 months ago
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Bruce shows up at the Kent farm because he wants Martha’s blessing to marry her son.
It’s an outdated custom, but Clark is sentimental about the oddest things, so Bruce resigns himself to it.
He made sure to show up in some of his most relaxed clothes and brought some of Alfred’s cooking. To anyone else he would appear to be any random passerby, which was the objective. Ma Kent expressed a distinct distaste for Bruce’s masks, either as Brucie or Batman.
It was difficult to hide his nerves.
He hoped by following all of her past critiques of him he would pass muster. You aren’t at a board meeting, million dollar suits have no place in a pig pen, or, You must bring that butler of yours with you, I would love to trade recipes.
When Martha eventually opened the door she smiled easily until she really took in his appearance.
“Bruce! What’s happened? Are you alright? Where’s Clark?”
Caught off guard, Bruce blinks.
“No Mrs. Kent, it’s just me. I had something I wanted to discuss with you-”
“Dressed like that? And what have you got there?”
“Alfred sent it with me. Everything’s alright, I just wanted to abide by your suggestions.”
He bears her scrutiny for 37 seconds before being ushered inside. He cannot stop himself from going over his actions and the best course for rectifying them. He is unaware of what would be a cause for such concern.
She fusses over him and Alfred’s dish until he is sat at her kitchen table, empty handed.
“So, Bruce, honey, what was it you wanted to talk about? Must be important if it got you to fly all the way out here by yourself. Not that I don’t enjoy seeing you, but you boys are a rare sight indeed these days.”
Without appearing obvious, Bruce tries to brace himself for a moment. The words are difficult for him to say, and Martha’s kindness has always been hard to bear the full brunt of.
“I had hoped to discuss something with you.”
There is no exasperated sigh, but he does see her patience at his silence as he tries to string together what he’d like to say.
“I would like to ask for your blessing.”
Martha’s eyebrows pinch together for less than a second before her face slackens in surprise. Bruce does his best not to fidget, or indeed move a muscle.
“My blessing.”
“Yes.”
“In marriage.”
“Yes.”
“To Clark.”
“Yes.”
Martha sits down on the chair across from him, keeping a hand on its armrest to steady herself.
“Goodness.”
Martha turns almost mechanically to face him. He still hasn’t moved.
“You haven’t discussed this with him?”
“Two years ago we discussed the institution of marriage and its surrounding customs as part of a mission involving marital law.”
“But you haven’t discussed the possibility of you two getting married on Earth?”
“No.”
Martha holds the fabric of the table cloth between her thumb and forefinger, pressing it against itself to make slow circles.
“Why do you think you need my blessing?”
There is a distinct pause as Bruce thinks this over.
“Clark values your opinion as well as Earth’s customs. It is not exactly standard practice, nor a custom rooted in a particularly ethical social mores, but it is one I think he would see sentimental value in. If I have overstepped-”
Martha is kind enough to cut him off.
“No, no, no. It’s just. You’ve really surprised me is all.”
“I will, of course, submit to any questions or trials you require to illustrate my sincerity.”
Her forehead wrinkles as her eyebrows race toward her hairline. It’s a look Clark has made after some of Bruce’s more severe injuries when he had suggested returning to patrol. It is endearing to see where he gets it from.
“Trials.”
“Any requirements or standards that I must meet.”
“Ah.”
They lapse back into silence for 3 minutes and 12 seconds before Martha sighs gently. A cold feeling passes through Bruce at the realization he has somehow already failed.
“I’m so sorry honey. This is just such a surprise. I think I have a couple of questions for you, but I had just never considered anyone would be asking for my blessing. Being a Mother of the groom doesn’t usually have that in the job description. Is there a reason you picked Earth customs instead of Kryptonian ones? Clark says you’ve spent an awful lot of time in that ship of his.”
“Kryptonian marriage customs do not place emphasis on courting rituals, only the ceremony itself. I had planned to ask Clark if he wanted us to follow them or incorporate them into Earth’s customs or even forgo customs altogether, but that’s only a consideration if he accepts. As it stands, I would estimate there are two aspects of Kryptonian marriage customs he would likely incorporate and a majority he would be disinclined to, given his current frequency of preference for Earth customs. Although I have prepared everything in case he does wish to follow Kryptonian customs.”
“Prepared everything?”
“I would have to substitute the Hall of Justice for the Palace of Marriage, but I have done my best to acquire a jewel from Diana that could stand in for the Jewel of Truth and Honor. I have also acquired rings or bands to the specifications of custom, depending on his preference, and commissioned the parental statues.”
“Parental statues-?”
“However, I estimate that Clark would choose that option if Superman got married. I believe his original preference would be to have a ceremony here. Though if he agreed to a ceremony with media presence, it would likely be at the manor. I do think he may find three separate weddings to be excessive, but if he did want more I would be willing to-”
“Bruce!”
He paused, looking up from the checkered pattern of the tablecloth to see Martha smiling, faintly. The cold feeling had spread while he was talking and he tried to push it away.
“Honey, I think I’ve done a poor job of this. Maybe it shouldn’t have been a shock, you showing up here dressed like you work in town, with a home cooked meal and detailed wedding plans, but you must forgive me. I feel my age catching up to me sometimes and it can take a minute for my brain to catch up with you youngsters.”
She rubbed at her eyes for a moment before continuing.
“Lord knows that Clark was always an idealist, he was a happy child who loved so much. I used to quite literally have to ask him to come down from the clouds.”
“I don’t think I have ever met another person as grounded as you are. Literally, Clark has told me stories about that cave of yours. All that to say, in my own marriage, Jonathan and I tried to strike a balance.”
She paused, looking out the window in the kitchen for a moment.
“I think the both of you have polar opposite approaches to the same thing. That your practicality balances out his optimism. And that he is a counterbalance to your cynicism.”
“I am so proud of the both of you boys. To have found each other and support each other. That boy loves absolutely, and while I can’t speak for him, I would support him in whatever decision he would make.”
“But I have also come to know you and your children. I see your dedication and commitment to everything you put your mind to. Family is important to you, and I am glad my son has met someone who loves as fiercely as he does, even if it looks a little different on the outside.”
Martha’s hand reaches across the table and folds neatly over his own. Bruce finds it’s the easiest thing in the world to match her smile.
“Of course you have my blessing. I’m sorry if I made you think you didn’t. It’s just that “bat-preparedness” as Kon puts it, is a bit beyond my speed. I’m so glad you came by. I’d be delighted if you stuck around for a while to really explain to me what some of those ceremonies entail, but then I don’t know how much time you set aside today.”
The cold feeling had morphed into a warm sort of liquid, like Alfred’s hot chocolate. Slowly, Bruce relaxed his muscles and posture to be more at ease.
“Thank you. I would love to stay. My schedule is free for the next few days actually. I had been planning to ask if you wanted anything done around the place, or for me to take a look at that tractor again. Jon mentioned you were having trouble with it and I know none of my boys have been by in a few weeks or I’d have asked them to take a look.”
Martha leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Bruce’s temple, effectively stunning him for a moment. She laughed at the look on his face.
“Oh you sap, you better get used to it. Come on, you’ll have to show me how you’re setting that thing to rights each time.”
As they got up and made their way towards the tractor, Martha asked one final question.
“I’m surprised Clark didn’t stop by halfway through your explanations. He told me he showed up once during one of your patrols unannounced because your heartbeat suddenly picked up. Lois made fun of him for weeks. How did you know he wouldn’t be listening?”
Bruce smiled slightly as he rolled up his sleeves to take a look at the well worn machinery.
“Easy. I’m on light duty for the next two weeks and the rest of the League got called on a mission for the Lantern Corps. He won’t be anywhere near this solar system for at least four more days. Perfect opportunity to stop by.”
Martha snorted beside him as he pointed out the different systems. She was warm and solid next to him, something that made him smile and think distinctly of family.
Bonus Below the Cut: Kryptonian Marriage Customs from Google.
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