#this has been on my mind for years and it just irks me a lot when people keep trying to defend nintendo's shitty storytelling

[this-user-has-been-erased]

I really wish Nintendo would have had the courage to make Link an actual character in BotW/TotK. And no I don't mean have other characters TELL us about his personality or whatever. Allow him some facial expressions at least. I understand why he was so stoic in the memories in BotW but it would've been nice to have a memory that's just about Link himself. I'm still annoyed that the ONLY reason we know about Link's father being a knight is because Zelda mentioned it briefly in one memory. Not a SINGLE other mention of him.

I believe the reasoning for why Link has no personality in BotW/TotK is because he's supposed to be like a blank slate for the player to project onto, but.. in past games Link isn't a cardboard cutout, yet people project onto him just fine. For instance in WW, no one needs to tell you Link's personality, because it's SHOWN to you. The game does not have to tell you that he cares about saving his sister, because you can SEE it in his actions. Compared to TotK, it feels like Link doesn't really care at all about Zelda, especially after getting the final tear and he just stands there like... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I know people like to bring up the in-game dialogue options that show Link's personality, and I agree that at the very least we have that. But a lot of that is skippable, and there are choices that the player (not Link) picks from. You could argue that his personality is different depending on who's playing the game, because ultimately people love to project onto him and pretend like that's his canon personality. Or his entire personality is just "I <3 Zelda."

I just want to know, what does Link HIMSELF think about having lost so many of his memories, his identity, and his friends and family? What does he think about his arm being destroyed and then replaced with Rauru's? What does he think about the MASTER SWORD being shattered???????????? Because you know it's HIS sword, that was literally CREATED to fight Ganon.

Anyway this just annoys me so much, that past LoZ games had fairly simple yet meaningful stories, and actually good, FUN characters, even if they weren't particularly fleshed out. And now apparently open-world games can't have decent stories or good characters. There's maybe a HANDFUL of characters from BotW/TotK that I actually like, and the rest are bland and boring. I really hope the next game does better.

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 1: I'LL BE YOUR PLASTIC TOY

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

Satoru Gojo was a lot of things, but he would never be yours. Sleeping with him in his bed as a child didn’t grant you that kind of closeness anymore. Within these halls, you walk past each other like strangers.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: angst, suggestiveness, making out, light bullying

ੈ✩ wc: 5.5k

ੈ✩ a/n: i am here to ruin everyone's lives. apologies in advance

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

March, 2008

“Hey, Twigs. Wanna see something cool?”

His honeyed voice chills your spine, his breath warm right by your ear. You roll your eyes as you turn to face Satoru, grinning with all his teeth as he tugs at your wrist. 

“What is it, Satoru?” you sigh.

“You have to follow meee,” he sings, pulling you away from the table you’re setting and towards the side of the porch. It’s secluded. Private. “Bring the spoon.”

With furrowed brows, you oblige. It isn’t like you have a choice. You had followed him around like a puppy ever since you’d met him as a child. You continue to, regardless of your determination to separate yourself from him.

His favorite shadow. His little pet.

The two of you aren’t as close as you were when you were children, but it’s still impossible to refuse him when he has a request. You blame it on your mother and her professionalism. You figure you had inherited it from her. That hyper-politeness. You find that you blame the ocean blue of his eyes more often. Always sparkling. 

He walks a few feet away from you, still grinning. You blink at his tall figure. He's currently dressed in a baby blue dress shirt (sleeves rolled up, of course) and black slacks. His Sunday best for the fancy brunch at the Gojo Estate. Every April, your mother summons you to help set up, then rewards you with a plate and time to play with the other kids. She would continue her work, serving the family and their guests. You would pretend that you weren’t part of the staff.

There hadn’t been a point in you staying for the afternoon in years. Only if Satoru begged you to, and even then, he hadn’t bothered to do so since junior high.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” you huff, crossing your arms. You wipe your sweaty hands on your smock.

“I’d never let you get in trouble, you know that,” he smirks. “Now, throw the spoon at me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“I want to throw way more than a spoon at you right now.”

“Relax, Twigs. Do this for me. Please?” he pouts. You can see his bright blue eyes peeking out of his black sunglasses, framed by snow-white lashes. It was unfair how pretty he was. How easily he could persuade you. 

Sighing, you throw the spoon in his direction. It stops right in front of his face as if there’s an invisible wall. He laughs in victory when he sees your confused expression. 

“What was that?” 

“My Infinity. I’ve perfected it so that it’s automatic. Took me a lot of willpower before but now it’s as easy as breathing.”

“Congratulations,” you reply dryly. 

It was typical of Satoru to be invincible. Untouchable. It had been a quality of his since birth, now manifested into a literal power to aid him against threats. You’d been on the outskirts of such threats when you were younger, but Satoru would always spare you the details.

Watching him grow in his adolescence had been like watching a sprout bloom. It shot toward the sky exponentially until it became a tree in record time. You, meanwhile, were still a sprout. A window, they’d called it. Able to see the horrors produced by human nature but unable to do anything about it.

Your head snaps up, alert when you hear your mother yelling your name from the porch. She points a hard gaze at you, then softens it when she sees Satoru.

“Satoru-kun, do you mind if I steal her for a minute? I need some extra hands for the tamagoyaki.”

Satoru nods, expressing his courtesy to your mother in his usual charming poise. It used to work on you before, but it often irks you now. The way he dazzles people to get what he wants. You would rather die than admit it was a characteristic of his that you envied.

He tugs at your braid before you walk away.

“See you later, Twigs,” he calls after you. A playful lilt to his voice. 

“You won’t.”

Satoru has you memorized. Since the two of you were five years old, he considered you his mirror image, though you never believed him. 

Often, when he sees you now, his heart leaps the tiniest bit in his chest the same way it did when he was thirteen. He’s gotten better at ignoring it. He’s perfected the art of ignoring you ever since high school started.

He likes to indulge during times when you’re not looking. At the moment, you’re concentrated on a flower arrangement, a blush painted on your cheeks from the heat. He’d watch you do this when you were kids, too. Your face would be in a concentrated frown, tongue peeking out. Nimble fingers perfecting an ikebana arrangement. 

Sometimes he missed it. He decided long ago that it would be better if he didn’t.

You two had been inseparable since the day the Gojos' hired your mother as a maid. He remembered you hiding behind your mother’s legs, chewing on the end of one of your braids. You would stay in the guest house of the Gojo estate with your mother, and you would become Satoru’s best companion. 

Both of your mothers would arrange playdates. Satoru’s mother wanted him out of her hair. Your mother wanted to work without your constant interruptions. You were needy, an only child, but Satoru would always please you with his company. It was why you adored him.

He’d show you all his toys and teach you all the games that his extended family would show him to make you feel included. He’d have you sleep in his bed, which would go under the radar until the two of you were fourteen. It would be innocent and wholesome. Satoru would show you the stars he’d learned about and you would look at him as if he’d hung them in the sky himself. 

Satoru often reminisces about the shape of your body to this day. Sometimes, he misses it when he’s alone in his king-sized bed in the winter. Even with the heat on, there’s still something missing, and then he thinks of you.

When you were kids, you’d sleep together, legs and arms intertwined. Drool on the same pillow. Wake up to an abundance of pancakes from your mother.

You had been half a friend, half a plaything. Satoru’s counterpart. Feet kicking each other under the breakfast table. 

At age five, you’d seen the same curse together. A harmless thing, chameleon-like, with eight legs on each side. It had a nasty face, one that you had recognized from your nightmares. It had been exciting at first, knowing that you shared the same ability as your best friend. You believed that you would grow with him and become as talented as him.

But that was an exaggeration. Satoru's parents knew how isolating it would be for their son to be the strongest. Your technique never came.

Satoru acted as your protector, then. Expelled the small, vicious curses in the corners of your room like they were bugs. You’d watch him train, his body overgrowing with knobby knees as you sat on the sidelines. And while you grew up with him, you only got smaller in his periphery. Always lesser. Always weaker.

It’s the reason you’d grown apart. At least that’s what he tells himself. 

Satoru had grown into a tall, arrogant child. He treated school as a hobby and still made the highest marks, which angered you to no end. It didn’t matter to him, anyway, knowing that he’d become a company's CEO or the best jujutsu sorcerer in the world. He had his future in the palm of his hands. You were not a part of that. You weren’t even sure of a future of your own.

Sometimes he would have nightmares of you dying in his arms at the hands of a curse too big for him to control. During adolescence, he experienced many threats to his safety. He knew he couldn't live with himself. He couldn’t bear to see you endure the same. 

So, without explanation, Satoru Gojo pretended you didn’t exist. He exchanged the necessary niceties in school and when you'd come over with your mother, though he'd never ask you to stay the same way he had when you were kids. He was often occupied with new friends, anyway. Often busy working on his technique. Nothing that was your business, of course.

You resented him for it. 

Now, you’re enduring your last year of high school with him, and you are trying so badly to be good. You should aim to make good enough marks to attend a decent university on a decent scholarship. God knows you aren’t fit for the world of jujutsu sorcery. 

In a way, you’re okay with the mundanity of your life. Satoru’s absence in your heart convinced you of that. 

Satoru’s attendance at school is only an illusion of normalcy for his parents. His mother insists on it. Barely a sorcerer herself, she had wanted to give her son the option of living a normal life. With his grades and wit, she knew that he could easily be successful as a businessman or a doctor. 

Despite this, Satoru knew he would enroll in Tokyo’s Jujutsu Technical College with Suguru. He had met Suguru when he was fifteen, trying to exorcise a curse that only got snatched by a dark-haired thief, one who would end up as his best friend. 

Satoru saw Suguru as his only equal. He had no one else to relate to about jujutsu sorcery. 

Certainly not you.

But still, he was closing another year of high school, his last. Then he could be free from his parents’ restraints. It was easy for him to be the best and make the most friends. It was a shame that he’d have to leave them all behind. 

You’re a ghost in Satoru’s wake. Always near, never faltering yet never consuming too much space. As the school year progresses, he ignores you like a mosquito bite. Harmless but still itching his skin. Always reminded of your presence even when you do nothing to draw attention to yourself. 

And then there are times that you do.

“I’m sorry, sensei,” you mumble, stunned in the doorway of the classroom.

It’s a nondescript weekday in May, one that’s wet with rain, which explains your damp hair and clothes. Your appearance conjures a succession of snickers. The sound of low laughter taunting you and whispers gossiping about you.

You’re too tired for it. You don’t want to be here at all.

“I’m disappointed,” your teacher relays. “You’re usually never tardy.”

“It won’t happen again,” you muster.

You hear more whispers. It hangs on your shoulders as you sit in your seat, still and heavy as you attempt to take notes.

Should’ve worn something more sheer, than she’d get the attention she wants, huh?

Nah, not like her tits are even good enough to be seen like that.

Bet she’s hiding something from all of us. Maybe we can get her to strip in the girls’ locker room and give us a show later.

“Shut the fuck up,” a voice growls. You hear it, turning your head, and your eyes fall on Satoru’s fiery blues. 

You wonder if the feeling of his gaze searing into the back of your head is worth mentioning. It makes your face hotter, the flush of humiliation warming your neck as your peers snicker at you.

You manage to get through class without crying. Haru, a boy you were closer with in previous years, offers his sweatshirt to you as you collect your things. 

“She’s good,” Satoru interrupts as you strip off your damp sweater. Within seconds, he has you under his arm. He ushers you out the classroom door. His oversized jacket drapes over your shoulders.

“Gojo,” you hiss. “He was just being nice.”

“Or he wanted to see you in a wet t-shirt. I don’t think white was the best move for today, by the way.”

Your face heats up when you look down. You realize the extent of skin that’s visible from the sheerness of your damp white shirt. It mortifies you more when you realize that Satoru had caught it first.

“Right. Thanks,” you mumble, hiking up your bookbag tighter on your shoulder. 

“So helpless sometimes,” Satoru sighs. He shoots you a devilish smile that combats your scowling frown. “Why don’t you call me by my first name here?”

“Because we’re in school and it’s polite.”

"Twigs, are you scared of being associated with me?"

He blocks the door of your locker, leaning against it and towering over you. Satoru had always taken up as much space as possible without a care in the world. You were the opposite -– always compartmentalizing yourself to be smaller. Malleable. Amicable.

He’s too close for comfort, nearly breathing down your neck. He only moves when you kick him pathetically in the shin.

Satoru’s smile only grows bigger as you ignore him. He wonders if he could get your fuse to blow in front of him right now. This place is usually where you’re composed, regal, and expedient. One of the school’s top students. 

He knew you had an edge to you, wild as you were when he had known you as a child. But you had only grown to be responsible and sensible. He thinks that his mother would be relieved if he acted more like you.

“Coming home with me or what?” Satoru quips. The way he says it makes your stomach stir. It's an almost salacious suggestion despite its innocence. Satoru always made everything sound more exciting than it was.

“Why would I?” you raise a brow.

“My mother would like to see you. She told me she had some hand-me-downs for you to try on." You know I’d love nothing more than to see you parade around my house dressed like my mother in the 70s.” He grins in amusement.

“Okay, sure, whatever.”

“Yo, Satoru!” 

His head whips around to see one of his buddies, crowded around other jocks. Satoru is quick to leave you without so much as a goodbye. 

July, 2008

After your semester, you end up second to Satoru. It’s no surprise to you despite how much it infuriates you. You are never anything more or less. 

"Congratulations, Twigs," Satoru murmurs to you. He startles you from your thoughts. You slam your locker closed.

“Why are you still calling me that?”

“Because you’re my Twigs,” he pouts.

Yours. It’s a funny lie. Satoru Gojo was a lot of things, but he would never be yours. Sleeping with him in his bed as a child didn’t grant you that kind of closeness anymore. Within these halls, you walk past each other like strangers.

He pouts childishly like he always does. There’s a devilish spark in his blue eyes underneath his sunglasses, though you can barely make out his irises from his height. Satoru’s growth spurt had him at over six feet tall by the time he was sixteen. It was obvious that he’d only grow taller. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the nickname. If you were in middle school again, the notion would warm your heart. It had been a stupid nickname he’d tease you with ever since you were both ten. You had been angry at him for reasons that escaped you, climbing up the tree in the backyard of his estate as high as you could until he begged you to come down.

You wouldn’t, of course. You were always stubborn like that, and Satoru loved it. 

You were also much clumsier when you were ten, slipping your foot as you attempted to climb a different branch and falling into Satoru’s arms. It had been a miracle you didn’t break any bones, but thanks to Satoru’s freakish strength, you were unharmed. Only disheveled with leaves and twigs stuck in your frizzy hair. He had called you Twigs ever since. 

“I’m not your anything. Even if my mother is still your fucking maid.”

“Aren’t you my maid, too? My little servant?” he teases. 

You wonder if he knows how cruel it is, even if it’s a little joke.

“I’m nothing to you,” you mumble. You attempt to hold a faster stride on your walk home. Maybe you’d advance enough to leave him in the dust. You could be the best runner on the track team if you managed that.

But you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t leave him, couldn’t. Not a chance.

“What was that?” Satoru calls after you.

“Nothing!”

“Slow down,” he whines, running fast enough to follow your stride, much to your annoyance. Him and his stupid, long legs. His taunting smile. “Don’t you wanna come over?”

“Why would I?”

“Your mom’s probably there. And we can celebrate the end of exams.”

“I have… stuff to do,” you stammer.

“No, you don’t,” Satoru chuckles. “The semester’s over. Summer’s here, baby.”

“Don’t call me that!”

He laughs again, the sound twinkling in your ears like a beloved song. It makes your cheeks warm. You don’t want him to see it. 

Yet, he wraps his arms around you, chin nestled to your collarbone as if you were joined together. In a blink, the two of you are in his kitchen, with whiplash only an after-effect. You still hadn’t gotten used to his ability to warp.

“I hate when you do that.”

“You like it, I know you do,” Satoru taunts. “It excites you. I can tell because your cheeks get all flushed.”

“They do not!”

“Sure, they don’t, Twigs.” 

“You’re annoying,” you huff, dropping your school bag on a chair.

Satoru greets your mother with a kiss on the cheek as you follow behind him. She has tea prepared in the sitting room for you and him, along with dorayaki and matcha Swiss rolls.

“Your mom’s the fucking best,” he muses as he gobbles down a third roll. You watch him in feigned disgust. Sipping your tea, you mumble something unintelligible in agreement.

“What, you aren’t hungry?”

“No.”

“Try this.”

“I have. She’s my mom.”

“C’mon, Twigs, open up.” 

Satoru leans over the table with a Swiss roll between his fingers, waving it in front of your face. There’s no point in protesting -– he’d probably knock something over from his eagerness to annoy you. You part your lips to take a bite, and at the same time, he shoves it into your mouth.

“Satoru!” you groan.

“Stay still.”

You swallow your bite and he wipes his fingertips on the corner of your mouth. He’s close enough to feel your breath on his face, licking up the frosting on his thumb nonchalantly. He chuckles at the flustered look painting your face into a scowl.

“I’m done. I’m going to do the dishes.” 

You excuse yourself to retreat to the kitchen before you can so much as make eye contact with Satoru again. He has to be teasing you with his small touches. It’s something he would’ve done when you were twelve, yet the notion now would be different. 

The two of you were in completely different social spheres. He had separated himself from you years prior. It would be a rare sight for him to be so touchy with you in public, acting as if you were like him. 

Someone who had a big kitchen. Someone who didn’t have to think about expenses.

It’s a miracle that he leaves you alone as you clean the kitchen, washing dishes to keep your mind occupied. After you’re done, you decide to cut up a bowl of strawberries. You knew they were Satoru’s favorite. Knowing him, he’d still crave something sweet after demolishing all the desserts.

You nick yourself. A careless act — you aren’t paying attention, mistaking the sharp side of the knife for the dull one. It slices the inside of your thumb. Cursing under your breath, you hover your hand over the wound. You heal it within milliseconds without so much as a second thought.

This is when Satoru kicks at something. The wall or a potted plant, you don’t know. But it’s a plea for attention and it brings your focus to him, your head snapping up to meet his gaze and his childish pout. 

“I saw that,” he says, lowly.

You freeze under his scrutiny. You don’t say anything.

“So you’ve been lying to me.” It’s a seething accusation instead of a question.

He gets so close to you without you even noticing. He towers over you again, swallowed by the whole of his shadow, and his betrayed frown is petulant like a child’s. 

“Satoru—”

“You said you didn’t have a cursed technique.”

“I—I didn’t. Not until later—”

“When?”

Your eyes are wide as you look up at him, hands trembling. He takes a step forward, taking up more space. It reminds you of your worth. The mere fact of him belittles you in that way.

“When I was thirteen. My kitten, Aki. The stray. You remember him, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“He got hit by a car one day, and I couldn’t stop sobbing. And I was holding him in my hands all bloody. And then, I brought him back to life. It just happened.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You search Satoru’s face. There’s a bit of betrayal in it, mostly surprise. It boils your blood in the slightest bit — because why is it so shocking that you ended up with a cursed technique? You may have hidden it from him for a few years, but was it something so unimagined for you?

You assumed that you would always be a plaything in Satoru’s eyes. Something so easy, so useless.

“It wasn’t enough,” you exasperate. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. None of it does, Satoru. It’s so—”

Insignificant. Small compared to you.

He waits, swallowing the lump in his throat. Eyes flaring like comets.

“It doesn’t matter,” you repeat. “I don’t even want to be a sorcerer, and even if I wanted to be, I could never keep up with you. I don’t see the point in pursuing this if I’m better off just studying at a normal university—”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Your technique is amazing. It’s like Shoko’s! You could’ve —”

“Satoru,” you emphasize. Your tone shuts him up, your hardened gaze, the lightning in your eyes bright and sharp. Menacing, even. You can sense the sound of him swallowing, a lump lodged in his throat loud enough for you to hear.

White lashes flutter. A frown is still displayed on his face. It’s now that he notices the slight bags under your eyes. Evidence of burden, of nights spent awake under the unforgiving moonlight.

You look at him in a way that feels damning — like you’re coaxing something from him. He knows better — knows that his anger is misplaced, that you’re right.

You having a healing technique is nothing compared to him. Even then, he knows that you probably aren’t interested in combat or the world of jujutsu sorcery in general. It doesn’t affect him so negatively. So what is he so angry about?

The question is in your eyes, pleading. He already knows the answer despite not admitting it to himself. He knows that the prospect of you having a cursed technique doesn’t mean you’re stronger than him. He assumes you wouldn’t surpass him, and wouldn’t think you to be someone who would even think about it. 

Satoru knows he’s angry because he feels very close to you. He had at least thought he was close enough with you to know about your cursed technique. It was finding out that you were hiding it from him that made him angry. Learning that you had it manifest in front of you and didn’t bother to fucking tell him about it.

He can’t voice any of these frustrations. He knows you’d yell at him, and criticize him for thinking he’s entitled to you. It’s inappropriate and unfair, but in his younger years, he often felt that he was entitled to you. He’d known you since you were so very little, so vulnerable. He had protected you from all those curses, hadn’t he? He held you in his arms in his bed for years. That had to have meant something to you. It certainly meant something to him. 

“Sorry. I just wish you told me earlier,” he says softly. 

You apologize. Meek beneath him, eyes avoiding him. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I have to go. I’ll see you later, Satoru.”

You don’t see him for a week and a half. It should be typical to you. It’s not like him to reach out or go out of his way to see you. He’d always been like that, giving you no expectations. And yet, his radio silence had crawled under your skin.

It’s stupid to expect him, anyway. There’s no reason for him to show up at yours, much more of a reason for you to show up at his, but you don’t need to. Your mother does that for her job and it has nothing to do with you.

There’s a Tuesday that’s so quiet, so plain that even the rain falters after two hours to only grant the town wet pavement. You’re curled up with a book in your living room when you hear a succession of knocks on your door. An erratic rhythm, the same as the special knock you would use with Satoru.

It’s him, of course. He smirks at you, an oversized t-shirt loose off of his lanky figure. You try not to fixate on the sweat of his exposed collarbone. You look him straight in the eyes through his pitch-black sunglasses.

He has a large bouquet in his hands. He grins at you. For the first time in a little while, you feel brave.

“Confessing your love to me this afternoon, are you?” you pester, a brow raised.

Something like that, Satoru thinks.

“You wish.” 

He walks past you, brushing your shoulders much to your annoyance. He sets the bouquet on your kitchen table in its little jar, peonies drooping despite how hard he tries to fix them.

“It’s from my mom to yours. As a thank you and a birthday wish and stuff.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. “That’s very sweet of her.”

He hums in agreement, rocking his heels back and forth as his eyes roam your house. It isn’t his first time here, but he acts the part, hands buried in his pockets as he observes you like a wild animal. 

“Will that be all?”

“Dunno,” Satoru shrugs. “What were you up to before I showed up?”

You shrug, too, attempting to mirror his nonchalance. You had long ago buried your paperback in a drawer, promising to return to it by the time Satoru left. But still, he lingers, in front of you, taking up unnecessary space in your childhood home. Too tall and too pretty.

“Just cleaning my room,” you lie. 

“Can I see it?”

“Why?”

“Been a while,” he shrugs. “I’m just curious.”

“Well, it’s a mess right now. I didn’t get very far.”

“Like I care,” Satoru chuckles. 

He stares at you for a bit, heartbeats passing the time in your head. Fuck, he’s serious. He’s already leaning towards the staircase.

“Okay.”

You’re hyper-aware of him behind you, eyes exploring the length of your body. If you had known that he would show up unannounced, you would’ve changed into one of your long dresses or a pair of jeans. At the moment, you feel too bare in your tank top and corduroy shorts. You feel like a child outgrown.

Satoru takes up as much space as usual, long limbs splayed over your tiny twin bed. You don’t permit him to sit on your bed, but he does it anyway. He looks at the pictures on your wall, takes in the sweet smell of your sheets. It’s similar to your clothes, your flesh. Your hair. He’d live in it if he could.

“How cute.” He gestures to a cat plushie by the head of your bed. 

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Satoru laughs. “It is cute. It’s so you.”

A certain fervor blossoms in your gut at that. The image of him stretched out on your little bed. Despite your closeness with him when you were younger, he had never spent much time at your house. It took you a few years to understand why.

“You should invite me over more often.”

“I don’t invite you over ever.”

“Well, you could start.”

“Why?” You stand by the wall, shifting your weight towards it as you lean backward. You cross your arms in defense, even though he hasn’t said anything to provoke you yet.

“It’s comfy here. I like it.”

“Thanks?”

He sings your name, beckoning you to him. You take three steps at most, holding your breath. Standing in front of his knees.

“Come sit, Twigs.”

“Told you not to call me that,” you breathe.

“Don’t care,” he grins. 

He reaches out to you, pulling you between his knees with a hand on your waist. He smirks at the sound of your gasp as he tugs at your wrist. 

“In my lap. C’mere.”

It’s difficult to refuse Satoru Gojo. His eyes drink you in, ocean blues glimmering and reflecting the afternoon sunlight. You’re still between his thighs. He tugs you without much effort, making you stumble into him. Your hands hold onto his shoulders as you settle into his lap. He holds the small of your back as you straddle him.

“Wanna try something.”

You say nothing. Your eyes flutter closed when you feel his fingertips grazing your jaw.

There’s a softness against your mouth. You don’t dare open your eyes.

You sense a sharp inhale behind the lips that kiss you, but they stay. Wetting between your mouth with the slight of a tongue. Tasting sweet like honeysuckle.

You whine, opening your mouth a bit more. You swallow down divinity. It's misguided affection that you had wished for when you were so much smaller. It might mean something bigger to you now if you thought about it for longer. You don’t want to. You refuse to.

But Satoru kisses you hard, excited and eager. His tongue peeks into your mouth and you taste strawberries. Lips soft and supple and melting against yours.

He groans, fisting your hair in his hand as he deepens the kiss, falling more and more into you. He smiles against your mouth as he coaxes a small sound out of you. It crawls out of your throat for him to taste with satisfaction. He’s always dreamed of you in his lap, but he could never tell you that.

You’re breathless, weak, and melting into him as he wraps his arms around you. Caging you in so that you can’t escape. So fucking warm in his embrace. 

It takes a second for you to notice the hardness growing underneath you. It prods your center as you mindlessly grind into Satoru’s lap. When you realize, you squeak in embarrassment, and he clutches you harder.

You sigh into each other, eating the other up. Heat surges through you, from your forehead down to your core, to your weak, sensitive legs. Hot from the feeling of him in your mouth. Hot from the proximity of your core to his.

You pull away, exhaling unevenly as you try to catch your breath. You’re shy under his gaze, unwrapping yourself and covering your body as if you’re naked.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re so cute,” he chuckles. “Acting like that was your first kiss.”

“What if it was?”

He raises a brow as you look away with flushed cheeks. You’re still on his lap and he takes the opportunity to remind you of this, shifting you in his lap and causing friction. Your eyes are wide as you quickly attempt to untangle your limbs with his.

“That was your first kiss?”

“Yeah.”

You roll your eyes at the sight of his leering smile. God, you knew this would happen. Satoru would never let you live it down.

“I’m going to kick you out—”

“No.” 

He grasps your wrist in his hand. It’s small compared to his palm, engulfing you. His other hand grips your hip firmly but softly. He only moves it to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin.

“How was it? Tell me.”

“Good,” you breathe. “Felt good.”

For the first time in a long time, he looks at you like you have invented something new. There’s a bit of astonishment. Wonder and admiration. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. You were easily deluding yourself with the expression of his sapphire blue eyes. 

“Felt good for me, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you do that?” you ask, giggling nervously. 

“Just wanted to.”

“I want you to kiss me again,” you whisper.

“I want to do more than that,” Satoru mumbles. But he knows better. It’s the best decision for him to get you off his lap right now before he loses composure.

You both hear the sound of your front door opening as if it’s timed -- your mother. 

“I’ll kiss you later, okay?” Satoru murmurs.

“You will?”

“My parents will be gone this weekend. To Okinawa. You should come over on Saturday.”

“Okay. I will.”

[izzabela]

HALLOOO... I really love your work sooo much, jshsjsjshsjs. I can't get enough to re-read, so... can I get a request about the lin kuei Bros or earthrealms champion or both? so the reader has a sakura power (from Naruto), you know healing power and a MONSTER PUNCH so their friend/girlfriend on period and got sooo moody when she watched her friends/boyfriends not around her to calming her (cuz period was so suck and cramps hurt like hell) when she seeing (one of the lin kuei bros or earthrealms champions make a mess to her) and she was sooo mad and didn't realize she punch him in the face until it hits the wall. and the rest I leave to you.

sorry if my English is not understandable and messy (this is my first request, so I'm typing it with a lot of nerves). Thank youu

Packs a Punch - Roster Fic (not all of them are included)

in which your menstrual cycle affects those around you in a different way

a/n: i'm starting my period! also, i really tried to write for all of them, but i fear my brain has run out of juice...

ship[s]: johnny cage, geras, raiden, tomas vrbada x f!reader

warning(s): none, f!reader = f!genitalia, menstruation (though, people should be more informed on it regardless), throwing in some real examples from myself and other women around me

Dearest, gentle reader, periods suck- but so does having incredible healing power and super strength.

And when hormones and powers combine, a recipe of disaster is baked into reality. Luckily, your "reality" consisted of magic, gods, and eccentric people in a world 99% of the population hasn't even heard of.

Even so, sometimes they feel your wrath- even when it isn't your fault.

====================

Johnny Cage

- poor Johnny, subjected to the mercy of your power during this month's round of menstruation, especially since he's been gone for a couple of weeks for a mission

- poor guy, bringing flowers, chocolate, even a new heat packet with the latest tech (he realized heat was great aid in helping you relax)

- he was so sure he told you he'd be gone for a while during this mission, but all memory is gone when the only thing you're trying to survive your insane mood swings and even crazier cramps

- coming in your shared home, Johnny carefully treads the eerily dark and quiet home. he sees a lump on the couch, and every tip-toe closer to you is a year of his life getting crossed off his timeline

- he can hear you sniffling, and when Johnny just barely utters a soft (and wary) "hello," Johnny's sealed his fate

- you're ripping him a new one, crying about how he left you alone to deal with your cramps. how you had to take more advil and ibuprofen than the recommended limit, and how you missed him so

- Johnny's trying to approach you, carefully inching closer and closer to you with all of his peace offerings. honestly, it irks you more that he's treating you like a feral animal than a girlfriend

- "You left me, and now you look at me like I'm some helpless mutt?!"

- one minute, Johnny's seeing your tear-stained face. the next, he's seeing a playback of his life (was it always so vain?). he's also feeling the ground (except, it's supposed to be carpet, so why does it feel like drywall and wood?)

- it's not until his nose tingles, a reaction from the wood-dust and drywall shavings, and he sneezes, and he looks between you and wherever he was laying

- a comedically large, human-shaped hole was imprinted into the wall, and he can't even begin to process it as he's coaxing you to stop wasting tears on a "valid, totally valid" human reaction

Raiden

- Raiden asked his sister to describe her period symptoms in full detail once when he was fifteen (it earned him a slap in the face from her and more chores from his mother). still, she gave him the information, and it remained dormant in his mind until he met his girlfriend-you

- Raiden was attuned to the requirements to keep you comfortable during your period: hot towels, ice packs, warm baths, massages, tea, your favorite snacks and food- he has everything ready to make sure that each menstruation period of yours goes as smoothly as possible

- except when it doesn't

- it's really not his fault, you came home from Madame Bo's short-breathed and panting, sweat lining your forehead as you dropped everything and laid on the floor

- and you'd been dealing with the most awful customers, all of this not being Raiden's fault as he walks in to find you exhausted and drained

- "Are you alright, love?!" he calls out, kneeling down to get you off the dirty floor and to a cleaner space. you sigh, shaking your head as you keep yourself from letting frustrated tears fall

- you allow him to work on you, Raiden wiping your face and makeup off, wiping down your sweaty body, even him kissing your hands and everywhere else as he takes care of you

- it frustrated you, honestly, with how well he could handle everything while you were breaking apart (it's not your fault, but you're not really listening to your brain either)

- he notices your wobbly chin, and the simple question of "What's wrong, lovely?" has you breaking faster than water rushing through a dam

- you admit through warbled noises and wet tears that you hate how well-together he is, how he's always on top of everything, while you're breaking down. you also took this time to cry about work at the restaurant

Geras

- never did Geras think that someone like you could allow him to feel so human. me smiles just a little more, and you've gotten him to chuckle a few times

- though, he still lacks knowledge in other mortal/human things, especially how women's biology works, and yet he does his best to accommodate you

- Geras always brings you tea freshly brewed by Liu Kang for your periods. he's learned how to give massages as well, to ease the pain in your lower back and hips

- Geras has even asked for a sunroom to be built in the Wu Shi, Fire Temple, and the Hourglass realm- places that are familiar to both you and him. still, not even that is enough to save him from your hormonal wrath

- during this period, no tea, massages or sunlight could quell the frustration that bubbled within you. you had been waiting for ages for Geras to open the portal from the academy to the fire temple- it had been three hours since his scheduled time to do so

- cramps already twisting your insides, a searing pain in your bum, and a pulsing in your head indicated that this would not be a good week for you- and Geras just had to make it worse

- your strength got the better of you, stomping into the ground and leaving footprints into the concrete. kicking rocks didn't help either, as the projectiles brought fear to the unlucky students that were walking near you

- when Geras finally shows up, you've practically leveled the courtyard. with that glare you're giving the immortal man, he might as well be next

- "for three hours, Geras!" you screech, holding three fingers up into his face. "three! it's already hot enough with the sun out, but the fact my cramps made it even more unbearable- and this migraine! no water helped me with this either!

- you're giving him a (reasonable) earful on tardiness, how you were sweating in the scorching weather, and how he just forgot about you. obviously, the last wasn't true, he just got caught up in hourglass duties he didn't realize time passed (and can you blame him? he's dealt with enough of it...)

- "i just... i just can't believe you didn't watch the time!" you swung your arms down into his chest, and though he blocked it, he wasn't able to lock his feet in place to deal with the recoil

- he was basically punched into the wooden wall of one of the rooms of the academy. thankfully, no one was inside, but it doesn't cover up the fact he left a huge, Geras-shaped hole in the wall

- you rush over to him, frantically wiping all the splinters off his back and sides, even cleaning up the nicks of blood that began to peek through his skin

- "this is nothing, dearest," he said calmly as he wiped the precipitate off your forehead. "for the pain you endured due to my lack of diligence take more concern."

Tomas Vrbada

- Tomas doesn't remember how he dealt with his sister's periods. if anything, though, he hopes that it wasn't anything close to yours

- it's not that he doesn't love you (he has a ring all ready for you), it's just that he values his life just as much as he loves you. and honestly? he can't keep going into the infirmary of the Shirai Ryu every single month during your shark week

- this week is particularly awful: puking every morning, heat flashes, even fainting- you were not having this feeling of debilitating hopelessness stop you from continuing your daily tasks

- Tomas put you back into bed, strictly forbidding you from doing anything. while that did help some, it could've helped more if he was next to you. it didn't help that he didn't bother to check up on you the entire day

- which leads him into the current moment, trying to calm you down from a fit of pent up rage from today

- "i get that your clan means a lot to you," you began, "but I just don't understand how you couldn't take just a couple of minutes to see me?"

- you keep listing the things he should've done: should've kissed your head as a sign, should've brought you food instead of the servants, should've should've should've

- "Am I just that unbearable?" you probe, and Tomas ferverously shakes his head no. "I don't understand why you didn't see me!"

- Tomas, trying to explain his poor choices, didn't have time to react to the flurry of emotions that came out of you

- bits of anger, lots of frustration, and even more tears, Tomas was finally close enough to give you a hug- at least he thought

- no longer were you in his immediate vision, and instead he saw you running towards him, running past the drag marks in the wooden floors and through sliding door's latest design choice (why did the hole look so much like him?)

- you pet Tomas's hair, stroking the ash-colored hair and peppered his forehead and face in kisses. more tears ensued as you began to chant apologies and "i love you's"

- "no no," he said weakly, getting up from his spot in the gravel (so the courtyard was where I ended up, he thought). "i must apologize for my behavior. And if you like, we can make it up now since brother has released me from my duties."

=====================

i hope you liked this req! i really tried to add more but this is all my brain could allow me, i wrote them

i'll see yall in the next fic!

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲

y/n l/n is a girl that everyone either adores or heavily envies, or maybe even both. students, both boys and girls, turn to stare at the beauty whenever walking down the school corridors in the morning. her skirt is slightly shorter than the rest and her socks seem to give her thighs a slightly more attractive squeeze than the rest, eyes would study the way her hips sway with every movement she makes, making her even more enticing. to say she is beautiful is an understatement, she is everything people dream of and more; hence why she is a blessing and a curse.

"she's here, she's here." a group of first-year-looking boys fawn 'quietly' as the girl walks past them, that is until she feels a tap on her shoulder. this heavily irritated her, one thing y/n hates most is being interrupted on her walk around the school.

"y-y/n right?" his voice wavers slightly at the fact that he is talking to his goddess.

"morning," she answers not turning to look at him, only lifting her head up slightly, "i'm very sorry but I'm in a rush right now so if you don't mind I'll be going now." y/n spins on her heel, flashes a smile at him before walking away; her hair flowing behind her.

y/n turns swiftly around a corner and stood in front of the door which read:

'Student Council Office'

" Good morning everyone, we have a lot of work to do today, so no slacking." she greeted smiling and walking into her chair at the end of the table.

The Head of Student Council Seat.

y/n is the head of the student council and is worshipped throughout the whole school; she loves it.

Daichi Samuwara, Oikawa Toru, Bokuto Kotaro, Tetsuro Kuroo and Wakatoi Ushijima are also the talk of the school. girls are on their left and right, attending every one of their practice sessions, and screeching in the hallways, which of course irks y/n.

"Excuse me," the girl mutters trying to push one of the fangirls out of the way, only to be pushed back again. once again, y/n attempts to shove people out of her way, this time managing to get through farther.

"What do you think you're doing?" one girl snaps loudly enough for the few surrounding her to turn to observe the current scene.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" y/n responds straightening her skirt out a bit and adjusting the position of her glasses. taken back the girl immediately starts to apologise over and over again and y/n accepts the girl's apology.

the mass of gathering students soon begin to move out of the way for " Ms Principal" is a nickname they call her, this catches his attention; Bokuto's attention.

"Look who we have here, little miss principal." he teases, a large smirk plastered on his face, y/n rolls her eyes and continues walking down not wasting her time on him.

" Sorry girls, let catch up another time." The grey-haired boy winks at the huddle of girls, who seem to evaporate at the fact that Bokuto Kotaro winked at them, the fact that the boy just ran away to follow the girl on his attention, not crossing their minds. When Bokuto catches up with y/n, he walks quite close to her, y/n, feeling as if her personal space bubble has just popped but not wanting to be rude, she does not back away from him. continuing to walk in silence attempting to ignore his presence.

"Sorry about that Ms Principal," he starts smiling down at the girl walking beside him " That shouldn't have been happening on the corridor, I should make it up to you." y/n, is not one bit phased by his attempt at persuading her, in fact, she's unimpressed. without a response, the pair keep walking until y/n feels something on her waist, looking down she sees Bokuto's hand, an involuntary sneer springs on her face as she quickly pushes it off.

before y/n gets the chance to start scolding the boy, he hands her a small piece of paper. " My number. " he winks a smirk following it. the h/c haired girl crumples up the paper in one hand and drops it to the floor without a word, before she storms of. this time Bokuto doesn't follow her. he stands there watching. watching her hair sway with her hips.

bokuto's smirk turns into a large smile, "she's so cute when she's mad." he says picking up the crumpled paper on the ground.

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲

(please send a dm or comment on my the pinned blog to join the tag list)

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

[sinningforrory]

stupid // stan uris smut

a/n: hey everyone! it's been so long since i've posted and a lot of people have been sending me requests but since my first and only fic i've uploaded on here has gained 1,000 notes i thought i'd gift you guys this fic as a thank you. i'm gonna try and upload a lot more now because i appreciate so much the love my writing gets fr thank you guys so much. hope you enjoy and as always, reblogging really helps me out so if u enjoy, pls don't hesitate!

WARNINGS: dom!stan, submissive!bratty!reader, slight choking, mention of drugs (if you squint) SMUT, majorly NSFW minors please dni, thank you!

WORD COUNT: OVER 6K

SUMMARY: Your parents best friends' son. The picture perfect grade A student of the perfect suburban family. And a cocky douchebag. You hated him. But, since you both got into the same college, Stan has been making it clear that he definitely does not hate you...

Stanley. Even his name irked you. I mean, who in their right mind births a beautiful baby boy and names him Stanley. What a stupid name. It fits him though, that’s for sure. Stupid Stan with his stupid family and his stupid friends and his stupid studying. He was just so stupid that you wanted to bash his brains in any time he so much as breathed around your presence. 

Of course, he hadn’t necessarily done anything to warrant your intense hatred towards him. He just irritated you. You were Jewish too so you’d always see each other at the Synagogue and your parents were enamoured by Stan’s stupidness. They saw it as ‘perfection’ instead though. They were always bothering you about how you should ‘aim to be more like Stan’ or ‘Stan’s parents told me he got an A in this class. So why are you getting a D?’ He drove you insane. You weren’t Stan, you weren’t stupid like Stan so why couldn’t your parents just love you for you instead of comparing you to that stupid, stupid boy.

Due to your parents being very good friends with Stan’s family, you saw each other a lot more than you’d like. And every time you were there you took every opportunity to be nasty to Stan just to wear off some steam. But that made it even worse. It wouldn’t matter if he was a dick to you too. But no. He’s NICE to you. And you know he’s doing it on purpose to get on your nerves because every time he compliments your hair and sees you glaring knives into his eyes, he does a subtle smirk to himself as if he’s fucking won this silly little game you play. He knows he’s driving you insane and he’s proud of himself for it. What a fucking douche.  

It had always been this way. Stan irritates you, you���re a bitch to Stan, Stan eats it up, Stan irritates you, blah, blah, blah. It was an endless cycle of hate. 

However, something had flipped in Stan the summer before you both left for college. Luckily enough, you’d both managed to get into the exact same ivy league as each other so you would be stuck with Stan for the next four years. When you found out you immediately wanted to bash your head into a wall repeatedly until you woke up from this absolute nightmare that was Stanley Uris. 

The news that you had both gotten into an ivy league warranted a celebratory party for the both of you. The idea from your lovely mother, of course, and at said party, Stan was acting a lot stranger than normal. So strange to the point where you were currently hiding in the bathroom with your back against the door breathing heavily as if he was chasing after you and about to knock the door down with an axe.  

It started in the garden. You wore a white summer dress with tiny yellow flowers scattered among it. Stan was looking very punchable in cream khakis and a navy polo. Unbuttoned, of course, because he could never look TOO tidy. You stood by the refreshments, sipping a virgin pina colada when Stan strutted his way over with a teasing grin on his face, ready to ruin your relaxed mood. 

‘So, I guess we’re going to college together. It seems you really can’t escape me, can you, y/n?’ He leaned against the table next to you, taking a sip from his beer. You glared up at him, already infuriated by the fact that he was leaning down with you stood up straight next to him and he was still taller than you. 

‘Oh please, Stanley, don’t pretend to be so happy about this when we both know you are just as excited about this as me.’ 

He gasped in mock surprise before laughing softly at the frown on your face, ‘Oh, come on, princess, you know you love me. I guarantee that you would miss this adorable face as soon as you knew you couldn’t see me anymore.’ 

He smiled at you gently before moving his sunglasses up to rest on his curls and taking a sip of beer. 

You moved to stand in front of him, making a move to leave the refreshments and flee to your room (or anywhere away from Stan). ‘Bite me, Uris.’ 

‘If you insist, princess.’ He smirked at you and folded his arms over his chest, his muscles straining under his polo. 

Your eyes widened slightly, shock evident on your face at his words. He had always been overly saccharine with you but he had never flirted with you so boldly. Shaking yourself out of your daze, you scoffed before walking off with your pina colada into your kitchen for some snacks. 

5 minutes later, you were still stood in front of your fridge, supposedly searching for food but instead, you found yourself staring off into space. You could not scratch that smug image of Stan out of your brain, his words engraving themselves into your memory, messing with your mind. 

Worst of all, you found yourself repeatedly wondering why you liked what he had said to you. Pulling yourself together, you closed the fridge door but immediately jumped as you saw Stan standing right where the fridge door had been resting. 

‘You look a little lost, princess, is everything okay?’ He was stood so close to you that your chests were half an inch away from touching. You gazed into his eyes for half a second before realising what you were doing and coughed before putting some distance between the two of you. 

‘Uh-uhm, I’m fine thank you, Stanley. Just couldn’t find what I was craving.’ 

He nodded his head understandingly before taking a step forward so you were nearly chest to chest once again. ‘What exactly are you craving, y/n?’ 

He hadn’t meant to sound so enticing, or maybe he had, but the way he said that with his gravelly voice and his tiny smirk made your thighs involuntarily clench together. 

‘E-erm, just some guacamole dip. My mom always hides it from me though because she knows I’ll eat it all before the other guests can have any.’ You fiddled with the hem of your dress, avoiding eye contact with the boy in front of you. What had gotten into you, why was he making your confidence dissipate so easily and why were you suddenly acting like a nervous school-girl?

Stan’s eyebrows furrowed before an evil look took over his features. He was planning something, you could tell. And you didn’t like it. 

‘Oh, you mean.. this guacamole? The one on top of the fridge? That I can reach? But you can’t?’ 

Your eyes trailed along his veiny, muscular forearm before they met his slender, mocking hand where you found it gesturing towards... of course: the dip. 

Frustration filled you head to toe as you realised that Stan, once again, had the upper hand. Your jaw ticked as your eyes finally met Stan’s cocky, patronising eyes and you had to resist the urge to make those smug, brown orbs black and blue. 

‘It seems that you have something you need to ask me, darling. Because, let’s face it, we’re not gonna have a stare-off all day in front of this fridge. So, let’s hear it: “Oh, please, Stanley. I need you to get me that dip off the top of the fridge because I was born with incompetent height and I can’t do it without you, Stanley.”’ 

You crossed your arms over your chest as you listened, painfully, to Stan mock you with such arrogance you found it hard to resist whacking him with a frying pan. However, to Stan’s surprise, before he had the chance to continue making fun of you, there was no one standing in front of him anymore. 

Where had you gone? he thought. That’s unlike you, to admit defeat so easily. Where was your usual snarky bite back, attacking him on his ‘unusually long legs’? 

But before he could get too worried, there you were. Returning into the kitchen to fight back to Stan.... with a chair. 

Wordless and emotionless, you put the chair down in front of the fridge, stood on its seat and grabbed the dip, finally retreating from the kitchen, not before throwing Stan a victorious wink before you disappeared around the corner. 

Truth be told, you had no idea how to respond to Stan’s unusual behaviour so instead of arguing back like you would normally do, your mind blanked of insults completely and you did the next best thing that you could think of: beat him at his own game. 

It was obvious that something about Stan had changed since the last time you had spoken and Stan seemed to think he was one step ahead of you. What stupid Stan didn’t know was that you were nowhere near as Stupid as him and knew that the only way to irritate him like you used to was to give him a taste of his own medicine. 

Sure, you weren’t exactly completely against the idea of flirting with Stan for fun. He was obviously a good-looking guy; you knew because he would never let you forget it. And you would never pass up the opportunity to get a hot guy flustered. 

This was how Stan wanted to play? Fine. He’d better prepare to lose. 

It had been two weeks since this little game you and Stan were playing had begun and you couldn’t hold out much longer. The tension between the two of you had sky-rocketed and even the slightest twitch of a smirk in the corner of Stan’s mouth had your panties pooling with desire. 

You had an inkling that Stan was in the same boat as you were as your lingering caresses on his arm or leg when laughing with him and his family seemed to make him blush much easier than before. 

The point of why you were doing all of this was still vaguely swimming around in the back of your mind: do not be the first to give into your temptations. Don’t sleep with Stan. 

However, with Stan so perfectly positioned behind you so your butt met his bulge as he leaned over your petite frame to reach for a glass, you had to take deep breaths to remind yourself once again: don’t sleep with Stan. 

You gulped and took a deep breath of relief once he removed himself from his position behind you to lean on the counter next to you. His gaze burned into the side of your face and you met his eyes briefly just to find him with a cocky smirk plastered on him. 

Your blood boiled (with rage or desire, you didn’t know) but you looked away without giving even the slightest of a reaction. You could never let him know how much his actions affected you. 

It was that dreaded time of the week when you go over to the Uris family’s house for dinner and after eating a delicious meal cooked by Mrs Uris you did the routine of standing in the kitchen and drinking an iced tea with Stan whilst the adults got drunk in the living room. 

Usually, you and Stan would bicker pointlessly during this time of the evening, but tonight it was completely silent between the two of you with only lingering gazes and glares thrown from one to the other. The tension could be cut with a butter knife. 

However, your torment was put on pause as, suddenly, Mrs Uris appeared at the kitchen door. ‘Hello sweeties,’ she hiccoughed slightly, clearly tipsy. ‘I know that the kitchen is very beautiful but you are welcome to go up to Stan’s room if you want. Stan certainly won’t mind a beautiful girl like you to be up in his room, y/n.’ She winked as you blushed and Stan coughed out an embarrassed ‘Mom!’. 

She then made her departure, giggling to herself softly as she went. Stan then coughed to get your attention and gestured with a jerk of his head to the direction of his room, indirectly asking if you wanted to take up his mother on her offer. You shrugged before making your way up the stairs to Stan’s room. 

Stan’s room. What a place to behold. You hadn’t been up there since you were about 12 and had to work with Stan on a class project. It had changed a lot since then. Posters of bands that Stan listened to were plastered all over the walls and clothes were scattered all over the floor, and let’s not forget to mention the faint aroma of marijuana. 

Stan manoeuvred you out of the doorway, his fingers gracing your waist ever so slightly with his bulge pressed against your lower back as he shimmied past you. 

He jumped on his bed, his arms and legs in a starfish position on either side of him, and closed his eyes with a big sigh. 

You carefully sat yourself down next to him on the bed, feeling too hesitant to lie yourself down next to him. He leaned up against the bed frame with his hands behind his head as he studied your appearance precariously as ever. 

‘Why do you hate me?’.

The question took you by surprise. It was so out of the blue and even more so out of character for Stan to be so straight-forward. You blinked delicately before shrugging your shoulders at him. 

‘Do you want the honest answer or the answer that you want to hear from me?’ You pressed, speaking so quiet that it was almost a whisper. 

He glanced swiftly over you for a second before responding, ‘Honest.’ 

It wasn’t like you weren’t expecting Stan to want that answer but the fact that you had to admit it to yourself now, let alone to Stan, was enough to make you faint from nerves. 

You looked away from Stan and fiddled with your fingers as you spoke in hushed tones. ‘I envy you. You have better grades, better looks, better charisma, better music taste, better style... a better life. You are better than me in every way. And I despise you for it.’ 

A masked look of shock ghosted over Stan’s face before it was replaced once again with a stony expression. He sat up straight so that your knees were touching and he placed a hand on the centre of your thigh. 

You looked up at him and connected with his gorgeous hazel eyes. He ran his tongue quickly over his lips before his eyes locked onto yours. ‘Now, we both know that’s not true.’

It was as if your body was moving with a mind of its own. Slowly, you were leaning in towards Stan as if you were magnetised to him and to be too far would hurt you in unimaginable ways. ‘How do you mean?’ You breathily responded, your heart pulsing rapidly.

He was so close to you now that you felt his breath against your lips. ‘Because I envy you ten times more.’ And with that closing sentence you felt his lips crash immediately into yours. 

All the tension from the last few days swarmed around you both like a storm of arousal and need. His kiss was passionate and rough as he pressed his lips into yours with so much want but his hand on your leg was gentle and sweet as he caressed your inner thigh gently with his thumb. 

The constant nagging of your brain screaming at you ‘Don’t sleep with Stan’ was shoved into the back of your mind falling to deaf ears as Stan moved his hand ever so slightly higher up your leg, falling to play with the hem of your dress as he detached his lips from yours to suck on your collarbone with the obvious attempt of planting a hickey. 

Stan skillfully moved you both up to the headboard so that he could deepen the passion of your kiss and you quickly maneuvered yourself so that you were now straddling his lap. 

His growing erection pressed into your centre as he trailed his smooth hands down to the flesh of your hips, his lips dragging down your jaw to find solace in the crook of your neck.

You felt like you were on fire, Stan’s touch was magnetic and no matter how you’d been trying to resist him, it was impossible. You were addicted to how he made you feel. 

Neediness began to bubble through your tummy and you could tell Stan was feeling the same way as his hands were digging into your hips harder than before. Then, his hands began to carefully drag your hips across his hardness, slowly at first. 

You could feel every bump of his length through his thin sweatpants and your hands moved down his toned body to fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt. 

His hands began to move faster, dragging your thin panties over his hard, clothed dick. He detatched his lips from your neck when you began to let out tiny, little moans of pleasure, thankful for the little bits of stimulation Stan was feeding you. 

His eyes trailed down your body, admiring every single bump and curve: the strap of your dress falling off your shoulder, your soaking panties rubbing against him as his hands moulded perfectly with the fat of your hips. They then fell on your face, growing darker at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows, messy hair and plump, red lips from you biting down too hard on them. 

Likewise, you were admiring Stan, his sharp jawline clenching and unclenching every time you dragged yourself over his most sensitive spots, his hair uncharacteristically messy from your hands tugging on his curls. He noticed your movements speeding up and he flashed you a dangerous grin; a grin that would make even the biggest prude on the planet drop her panties to her knees. 

Acknowledging your shaky hands still fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, he slowed the movement of your hips with his strong hands and dragged you painfully slow now, refusing to let you continue with the rapid pace you’d set before. 

“You want this off, baby?” referring to his t-shirt. You nodded shyly, hands still fiddling with the hem. 

“Want me to take it off for you? Are you too dumb to do it yourself?” He stared up at you with a patronising look on his face. You groaned annoyedly, but deep down your cunt throbbed with anticipation.

“Just take it off Stan, don’t be a dick.” You glared down at him but your glare immediately switched to a look of shock as Stan’s hands had stopped your hips moving completely now, denying you any release that you were desperately craving. 

Narrowing his eyes playfully, he tutted at your lack of control. “Now, that’s no way to ask for what we want is it, sweetheart?” The corner of his lips tugged up satisfactorily as he took in your menacing glare, but also your glossed over eyes indicating your desperation for his cock. 

‘Oh, how cute,’ Stan thought pityingly. ‘The poor, little slut’s already gone dumb and I haven’t even fucked her yet.’

You breathed through your nostrils fiercely before succumbing to the begging of your aching clit and gave Stan your best doe eyes before tugging pathetically at the hem of Stan’s crumpled shirt. ‘Please take it off Stan, I’ll do anything, please..’ You pressed down on his length for extra measure just to make sure he would give you what you needed. 

A low hum of appreciation mixed with a strangled groan of pleasure escaped Stan’s throat and he mulled it over for a few seconds with that irritating smirk plastered on his face before nodding, clearly satisfied with your begging before he lifted his slender fingers to his collar and removed his shirt - finally. 

You took a moment to appreciate the art that was Stanley Uris' abs and sighed contentedly. It seemed your hands had a mind of their own as you wasted no time in rubbing your hands up and down his beautiful torso, gliding over the valleys and hills of his defined muscles.

"Enjoying yourself there, princess?" Stan chimed, clearly cocky that you'd spent about 30 seconds just groping him absentmindedly.

Tearing your eyes away, you glanced up at Stanley's face, adorned with a shit-eating smirk, one of his hands resting behind his head, the other still gripping the fat of your hip, rubbing gentle circles into your flesh.

Slightly embarrassed but, nevertheless, growing quite needy now, you rolled your eyes.

Eyes narrowing at the evil spawn, you thought 'The ego of this man is absolutely atrocious. How dare he try and make fun of me for admiring his physique when if I decided to strip naked right now, his reaction would probably beat mine.'

And then it clicked.

Focusing back on Stanley's disgustingly smug face, you did something you'd never done for Stanley Uris in your entire life.

You gave him a real genuine smile.

The apples of your cheeks beamed down at him and your eyes sparkled lovingly at the boy who was now slightly confused and, albeit, a little bit scared.

Slowly, you leaned down over Stan so your breath tickled his nose and your lips brushed gently against his, just in time to see his cheeks tinge red and his eyes flutter closed, like a naïve teenage girl who was experiencing her first kiss.

Aw, how cute.

Finally, you pressed your lips to Stanley's, so softly Stan thought he might've been kissing a cloud, and just left them there, in a gentle peck, before sitting up again to admire the look of bliss on Stan's face.

His eyes were fluttering open again and his breathing was shallow but fast.

This was the real face of Stan; he had finally taken off his mask for you.

He was so pretty, obviously you knew that already, but you couldn't get lost in his beauty again or your plan wouldn't work.

Then, when he dazedly smiled up at you and made to pull your head down so he could kiss you again, you teasingly began to lift up the hem of your dress until it had been lifted over your head and discarded somewhere on Stan's bedroom floor.

There you sat, on Stanley's clothed, throbbing cock, in just your white silk panties, the little bow just oh so enticing, and your bare, perky breasts on display for Stanley's greedy eyes.

His lips parted ever so slightly as he not-so-discreetly took in a sharp intake of breath. His eyes roamed hungrily over your exposed chest, and you knew you had him when his needy little hands reached up to thumb your erect nipples.

Arrogantly, you smirked down at him, your sweet, loving smile erased. However, Stan failed to notice, too enamoured by your naked body, like a toddler in a candy store.

"Aw, you're like a needy, little puppy, aren't you Stanny?" Your heart beat fast as you finally dropped the sentence you'd been waiting to release since Stan's cocky demeanour had surfaced.

Stan froze as he realised what you had done and his jaw clenched automatically, clearly embarrassed that he had let you entice him just how he had you not even a few minutes ago.

Narrowed eyes were glaring into yours and your confident façade faltered slightly as you realised how deep in shit you were now.

He was gonna ruin you.

However, Stan didn't flip you over dominantly so he was on top of you, or rip your panties off in anger like you had expected him to.

Gradually, he eased himself up his headboard so his back was resting comfortably against it and so the two of you were eye-level, 'innocent' doe-eyes levelled with furious, narrowed eyes.

His hands gently gripped you hips and moved you a little further up his chest, so he could remove his sweatpants, so slow and so patient you were so confused.

He looked deadly, that's for sure. But you'd expected him to be rough with you, teach you a lesson for being so naughty. All in all, other than being clearly vexed, he was treating you like you were a china doll.

As soon as his sweatpants and boxers were discarded, he moved you back to your old spot on his lap and carefully caressed your hips, his thumbs hooking under the straps of your thong and pulling at the sides, fiddling with them gently while intently drilling into your eyes with his own.

"You wanna be in control, huh, sweetheart?" He muttered so quiet you could barely hear but so full of malice your heart immediately sped up.

You had no idea what to say. No, you didn't wanna be in control. You wanted Stan to bend and contort you into any position he wanted, you wanted him to fuck your cunt until you couldn't even form a coherent word, you wanted him to paint the canvas of your body purple, pink and black, in the form of hickeys, bruises and mascara stains.

And you knew he knew that.

You knew by the look on his face, the restraint in his jaw, the rage in his eyes that he definitely did not want that either.

So why was he doing this?

Just as your brows started to furrow in confusion, Stan's thumb had started to rub harsh but deliberate circles over your clothed clit and you let out a gasp.

He tilted his head to the side slightly, furrowing his brows in faux confusion. "Is that... not what you want, baby? You see, I'm just a needy little puppy, right?" He spat at you, evidently fuming but clearly enjoying seeing you in such a state.

You shook your head and dropped your it onto Stan's shoulder, moaning softly as he used one hand to hook your panties to the side while the other found your soaking wet hole and gently inserted two very long fingers.

But, immediately he removed them.

Your head shot up in irritation but you relaxed and hummed contentedly as you realised that Stan was finally lining himself up with your entrance.

You lifted yourself up slightly to make room for his 'oh my god that's scarily big why am i only just noticing this' cock, fluttered your eyelashes closed, and waited for the stretch of him pushing up into you... but it never came.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Stan's eyes, still level with yours, looking bored and his hands, once again, behind his head, biceps flexed and causing a big distraction for you.

He looked at you pointedly, but, realising you still didn't get it, rolled his eyes and motioned for you to sit on his cock.

At this point, you would've jumped off a cliff if Stan asked you to if it meant he would grant you some form of release, so you carefully began to lower yourself down onto his tree-trunk of a dick, the stretch of it stinging slightly but the depth of it stimulating you in all the right ways.

You let out a guttural moan as you sat on the base, his cock bottomed out inside of you. You gripped Stan's toned shoulders with force and wiggled about slightly, trying to adjust to this new, amazing feeling and, as you wiggled, you noticed a slight tremor in his mask as his jaw clenched and his eyebrows briefly furrowed in pleasure.

But, as quickly as it faltered, it reappeared and Stan's stoic, unimpressed gaze fell on you once again.

"Well?" He rasped, as if what he wanted was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're in control, right, babe? I'm not moving a muscle."

You knew immediately that he was not kidding, so you bottled up the impatience you had for this stupid, stubborn man and put your game face on.

You could get off without help from Stan, of course you could. You didn't need his touch when you could do a perfectly good job with your hips and your hands.

'Fine.' You thought, glaring at Stan with pure hatred in your eyes. 'Suit yourself.'

So you began to move up and down on Stanley's cock, feeling every vein and twitch as you dragged your walls all over his length, coating it in your slick.

You gripped Stan's flexed biceps, his arms unmoving from behind his head as his eyes flickered between watching your face slowly morph into a dreamy, fucked-out expression, soft, pretty moans escaping from your parted lips every time the tip of his cock would prod at your g-spot, and watching your glistening, stretched out cunt swallow up his length, each time producing more and more slick so every time you slammed back down on his base, you could hear a squelching noise.

The only sign Stan was giving away of him holding any emotion was the twitch of his jaw and brow growing more frequent as the speed of your bounces grew quicker and harsher.

Soon, your bounces grew erratic as you craved your release, the only noises in his room being your desperate whimpers of pleasure, the sound of your wetness, and skin slapping on skin, along with the occasional grunt of approval from Stan.

However, you started to grow tired and out of breath as it had been nearly 5 minutes of you bouncing up and down on Stan's length, with no help from him and your determination to beat Stan at his own game was overwhelmed by your desperation to cum, and you knew you had to admit defeat because you were never gonna cum if you carried on like this.

Reluctantly, you sank down onto Stan and stilled with him deep inside you as you breathed heavily and whimpered with the desperation to cum deep in your tummy, your clit throbbing, begging for release.

Stan's furrowed face quickly changed to that of faux sympathy as he moved his hands to rest on your waist, rubbing gentle circles into the skin. "Oh baby, are you tired? Do you need my help?" He asked, patronising you just a little bit further by stretching out 'need' just to annoy you.

You had no time to be annoyed, however, because you could feel your release creeping just that little bit further away from the loss of stimulation, so you nodded your head frantically, practically begging Stanley to help you with your pathetic little doe eyes, glossy and desperate.

"Please, Stanny, please I need it, I need you, just please make me cum." You whined, your lips ghosting his ear, and gently kissing his cheek just for good measure.

That was all Stan needed to hear as he grabbed your neck, squeezing gently as he brought your face back to his and kissed you harshly, bruising your lips with his teeth as he dragged your lip with him, pulling away, and then releasing it.

"See, that wasn't so hard was it!" He smiled gently at you, pecking your plump, red lips and squeezing your neck in approval, before he moved his hands back to your waist, his grip turning nasty and he lifted you up right to his tip, then plunging his hips upwards into yours.

You choked on your moan from the sheer force of his thrust but soon gained your voice back as he continued his rough, rapid thrusting up into your eager pussy, practically dripping, begging for a long overdue orgasm.

You collapsed your tired aching body on top of Stan, your head buried in his neck, muffling your high-pitched moans from the ears of your drunk parents downstairs.

Stan moved his hands down to your ass and gripped the flesh harshly and his thrusts were slamming repeatedly into a spot that made you clench fiercely down on him and shriek with overwhelming pleasure.

Stan groaned into your ear as you continually clenched around him, whispering filthy praises into your ear making your legs tremble and your stomach flip as your impending orgasm was getting closer and closer.

"Can you hear yourself, princess? Can you hear the noises your pretty pussy is making?" The squelching of your wetness was embarrassing to say the least and you could feel Stan smirking without even having to look at him.

As he kept hitting that same spot, you could feel yourself so close to the edge as your legs trembled and your moans grew louder and higher.

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna come, Stanny." You managed to babble out through your whimpers as you felt that overwhelming rush of pleasure build up deep inside you.

Stan lifted your head up and grabbed it with both of his hands whilst still thrusting repeatedly in and out of your sopping cunt, forcing you to look into his eyes.

He had a look of pure concentration adorning his face, brows furrowed, jaw clenched and hair messy, letting out little breathy moans of his own every now and then.

"That's it princess, I wanna see that pretty face when you come all over my cock." And the coil snapped.

You let out a scream of pleasure as your entire body jolted, your orgasm washing over you, your toes clenching and your pussy spasming around Stan's length.

You collapsed onto Stan once again, letting out tiny moans, clearly exhausted from the intensity of the orgasm Stanley had given you, and the spasming of your cunt had clearly not been lost on him as his relentless thrusting had begun to grow sloppy.

Stan was moaning quite loudly in your ear now, a death-grip on your ass cheeks as he fucked up into you, chasing his own high.

You knew he needed a little push so you sat up slightly so you could whisper in his ear breathy and raspy like someone who was recovering from one of the best orgasms they'd ever had in their life, "I want you to come inside me."

The words that make every man orgasm on the spot did not lose their effect on Stan as he let out a loud groan of ecstasy and his thrusts slowed until they came to a stop, clearly having done what you asked.

He dropped his forehead to yours and grabbed your hands, fiddling with them as you both caught your breath.

Holy shit.

You didn't know what to do as you both just lay there gathering your thoughts, attempting to comprehend what just happened.

However, you knew you couldn't stay in this post-orgasmic bubble forever so you gently lifted yourself off of Stan's softening dick and got up to look for your dress.

You were halted, however by a hand closing around your wrist.

Turning around, Stan was lazily grinning up at you with a look of victory on his face as he was dragging you to lie back down on the bed with him and you couldn't help but smile back at him, full of a mysterious feeling for the boy who was just so beautiful.

How could you say no?

Climbing back into bed with him, you both turned to face each other, him still grinning at you, and you studying each and every freckle and blemish on his skin, realising that you loved each and every one of them.

You loved them.

Oh my god.

You loved Stan.

Suddenly, you burst out laughing and Stan jumped slightly before a grin erupted back onto his face as he asked what was so funny.

You managed to get through your laughter, barely, the words that you never thought you'd say in your life. "I- I'm in love - with - with you." Before you immediately started giggling again uncontrollably.

Stan joined in on your laughter, his shoulders moving up and down from the force of his laughs as he breathed out "I'm in love with you too."

You both laid there giggling uncontrollably like a pair of middle schoolers, laughing at your own stupidity.

Once the laughter died down you smiled up at Stan and nuzzled yourself into his chest, planting a few soft kisses there as he pulled you in closer and buried his nose into your hair.

You were drawing shapes on his arms, daydreaming in the comfortable silence when you heard Stan mutter into your hair something inaudible.

You sat up gently looking at him quizzically for a second until you noticed the look of pure adoration on his face that was directed to you before he said gravelly and clearly exhausted, "I hate you so much." before he buries his face into your neck and peppered you with kisses.

You giggled and whispered, "I love you too, stupid."

[emotionaldepravity]

Yandere! Obito x Reader Scenario

I'm genuinely so unwell for yandere Obito right now. Or maybe that's just me about Obito in general.... This is a very long post, and decently canon compliant. I'm willing to write more, but this specific storyline has been in my brain.

-Obito didn't start off as a yandere. He was the sweet and kind boy we all know. He understood boundaries and right from wrong. Its why he was able to love Rin, but never try to force her to love him back.

-When he sees Rin die, he truly believed there was no one else in the world who cared about him. His grandmother was dead, and after Kakashi was the one to kill Rin, any respect he had for his teammate died.

-Though Madara's manipulation of the boy convinced him rather easy to give up on the world, a small part of him wondered if he is truly alone. With the task he was taking up to become the savior of the world, he needed allies.

-As he replayed his childhood over and over in his mind, he realized that someone else besides Rin cared about him, you. You often chatted with him, but he never really thought much of it. You weren't Rin after all. However, he did remember that you asked about his grandmother, didn't tell him off about being late, and even offered to tutor him once in a while.

-You even told him that you supported his dream of being Hokage. Of course you had to explain that Rin was the one who told you about it. Obito would have never have confided in you about his dreams.

-However, that was then. He had much to consider now especially with Kakashi's "betrayal" still burning his heart.

-He had a lot of time to think about what he should do about you. How would you fit in his dream world? Would you want to help him?

-Most of his worries centered on whether you still cared about him for all these years. Surely you of all people would have moved on. After all, its not as if he was totally sure your feelings were even strong enough to be useful to him.

-One day, when he expected to spend sometime of his own at Rin's grave, he saw you walking around. You paid respects to the war monument running a gloved finger over his name. Bingo. He could work with that.

-Something irked him though. If he wasn't Obito anymore, how could he bring you over to his side? What could "Madara" say that you'd be willing to listen to? No, no that wasn't the real problem. He could find a way. The dark circles under your eyes were enough for him to be certain that more deaths than his had effected you.

-So then what was it? Something told him he'd know if he spent some time studying you. Within two days, he was able to find out anything he needed to know about your schedule, including where you lived.

-He didn't know what he was looking for as he scanned your apartment. It was plain and about what he had expected from what he remembered about you. He almost left as soon as he arrived, but he still lacked the answers he had come there for.

-A rather innocent selection of framed photos sat on your desk. Some of your family, some of your friends now, some of your summoning animals, all of these didn't stick out much in his mind. While there was none of you and a singular person, he just assumed that any romantic trysts were short lived for you. He pushed down the feeling of relief he had at the thought.

-In your bedroom, he saw it. It was clearly a shrine. Though it was nothing like picture board he had of Rin. It was truly a shrine to pay respects to the dead. A well used incense stick sat precariously in its holder next to a very small picture frame. He might have passed over the sight if it weren't for the fragrance of fresh flowers mixing with the smell of ash. The little vase was filled with wildflowers and a singular chrysanthemum. It felt a bit eerie even to him staring at the image of the boy he once was.

-He wondered, do you die every day when you wake up like he did? Did you... miss him? Clearly he was important to you otherwise it wouldn't be his picture sitting there. You must have loved him.... You must still love him. This was perfect! All he needed was to convince you that you could be with him in the Infinite Tsukuyomi, right?

-Once the idea latched into his head it just wouldn't leave him. The thought that you'd do anything for him. That as long as it was him, you'd be willing to betray everyone. No else mattered to you right? No one else had the honor of being prayed for every day so it had to be true. His thoughts about your devotion intoxicated him. He wanted to throw caution into the wind, but his desires would be fulfilled much later. The genjutsu's version of you would get to confess to him and he'd let you have a taste of him before he married Rin. The fake you who cried for the fake him wasn't someone he needed. Certainly, he could wait.

-He couldn't.

-You start to notice things missing in your apartment. At first it was benign things, like a worn out hair band or a pair of chopsticks you ate with more than the others. You chalked those things up to carelessness on your part.

-Next, the number of flowers you placed in the vase seemed to change. Usually it was the wildflowers you picked from the forest, which didn't bother you. Maybe you dropped one on the way back home. The week the carnation went missing, you pretended that you didn't remember buying it.

-Then, came a bra or panties you swore up and down you knew were in your dirty clothes. You particularly liked them, but maybe your non-shinobi friend that looked after your apartment accidentally took them home when she helped wash your laundry during your last mission.

-Finally, you noticed your journal from when you were a kid missing. It wasn't something you handled much so you just assumed that you lost it in moving. It hurt since the little trinkets you kept taped to the pages were all you had of some of people now.

-Obito kept your things in the Kamui dimension. They were the safest there. Where he could protect them. Especially your diary. His most prized possessions. It was so personal. It was oddly thrilling to be the hero , the object of desire, the prize to win. He'd never felt so loved.

-Zetsu would have bring him out of his stupor. He was wasting time stalking you. Obito would have to remind him that he was the one in charge. However, he had much to do and he needed to move pieces around in other villages. He'd have to come back for you if he fond the time.

-Obito would try to manipulate things to get you to desert the village. Maybe he'd ensure a close teammate of yours was killed or that you'd see a particularly cruel atrocity so you'd be disillusioned with the world. He wants you to come with him willingly. Pawns that weren't staunchly loyal would only hurt him in the long run. He would hate to have to put you down instead of giving you the dream you deserved. He would never purposefully tell you who he really is unless he was sure . It would be hard to keep away, but seeing you serving him would keep his desires in check. He could keep an eye on you properly this way. You might even smile for him if he played his cards right.

-If that wouldn't work, he would only kidnap you if you somehow recognize him when you see him as Tobi/Madara. It would be out of pure excitement. Of course you'd recognize him! You have everything about him memorized. You'd know "the man you loved" no matter what happened to him! Years didn't mean anything to you.

-He'd try to act stoic for you, but on the inside he was bursting. It must be overwhelming for you to even believe he is alive after all this time. He'd cherish your tears whether of joy or sorrow at the proof that it really is him.

-Nothing would prepare him for a cold or confused reaction. Depending on how much you understood about the Akatsuki you might even hate him for what he had done. That would just be proof that this you is fake.

-If you thought he was ugly, he wouldn't even feel sad. "The me you'll get to love in the Infinite Tsukiyomi won't have these scars. Everything will be to your preference. Don't you want to make that happen? Doesn't that sound like a perfect dream?"

-He wouldn't kill you if you continued to fight him. He'd just leave you to starve in the Kamui dimension alone . As long as you didn't stop him, he wouldn't hurt you. That's all he would need.

-Feeding into the delusions he had been crafting is more dangerous than trying to refute them. It would mean that he'd feel justified in stalking and stealing your things. It would mean that you really do want him to "save" you from this cruel world.

-He'd expect you to fight on his side no questions asked. In return, he'd let you be close to him. He'd give you a bit of intimacy that could be built upon in the Infinite Tsukuyomi. It doesn't matter if you say you don't want it, he knows you are just acting embarrassed for being called out. He'd show you your journal and let you know he understood everything. Straying from this path once you're on it would lead to the death of anyone you have ties with. He would make sure that you'll have no distractions.

-He wouldn't accept that you'd be happy with just being with him if you went that angle to convince him. Obito knows deep down that you would much rather be with the version of him who returned to the village and became Hokage. He isn't that man. Even if he finds himself more in love with you than Rin, he can't just go back to living a normal life. Nothing would feel real. Nothing could feel real.

-Alternatively, if he sees you again during the Fourth Great War, he'd be able to keep himself in check better. He wouldn't want to kill you and would be less likely to lash out if you were angry with him.

-He'd be more focused on converting you to his ideals. Though he'd offer you getting to be with him, he'd save it as a last card. If that didn't work he'd just break your spirit so you wouldn't get in his way.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

“The updates are making me like Idia more, but in the same way you'd like a character for being pathetic” I’m shocked you didn’t like Idia at least from what I remember? He’s basically the same as Rollo (a character you do like I think) and in more ways than one. They’re both gloomy looking guys and traumatized big bros that are self righteous and pathetic. What kept you from liking Idia before if you don’t mind me asking?

[Referencing something I said in this post!]

Okay, confession time: when I was a little kid (I’m talking like 7-10 years old), I was SUPER into Greek mythology and more specifically the story of Hades and Persephone. I ate up ALL the Hades and Persephone retellings/reinterpretations I could find and actively hunted for more 💀 so you’d think I’d like Idia, who is twisted from Hades, given how I gravitated to Octavinelle because of my attachment to The Little Mermaid in my childhood…

I think what puts me off of Idia in spite of his similarities to Rollo, a character I do really love, is a combination of Idia's appearance and his attitude.

To tackle the shallower aspect first, I actually don't like characters that look "too" gloomy. I would say Rollo is stoic-looking, but not gloomy? He has a pretty neutral face most of the time and the only gloomy thing about him at a glance is the dark circles under his eyes. With Idia... There's a LOT going on here. The hair is definitely unique, but I've never been into super long hair. The nature of it kind of overshadows his face and Idia usually looks miserable as a default. I've mentioned before that I'm unnerved by his coloration too; the super pale skin plus the blue lips is reminiscent of a corpse and, well... while I do see there being an audience that finds him beautiful, I don't think that's a cute look for him.

Now, his attitude. I'm not going to fault Idia for being passionate about his hobbies, as we all have our niches that we're super into. What irks me is how Idia expresses himself and acts out on behalf of those interests. He talks down to people who "don't get it" and takes other measures to defend the things he likes that I think is crossing a line. For example, he tracks down the IP addresses of Ignihyde mob students that defaced his favorite idol group's website. In the EN version, Idia threatens to doxx the mobs too (though he never does, this was just a localization decision). Yeah, you could do that I guess... but should you? 😭 The other characters also do questionable things (as a J word fan, I cannot deny this) but those actions are usually so outlandish no one irl would do it (like how Azul is a high school student that runs his own shady business). Idia's behavior, meanwhile, embodies some very real and very toxic aspects of fandom culture. I think part of why I disliked Idia at first is also his manner of speaking; it's riddled with so much internet lingo that it's hard to take him seriously sometimes. This is even more true of the EN version of the game, which has added even more slang than was in JP. Like... sorry, am I NOT supposed to be giggling when OB Idia is making threats while talking like an enraged gamer (both in EN and JP)? There is a ceiling on how much pathetic I can take in one sitting, and Idia far exceeds it every time he talks. Other characters (like Rollo making cheesy villain speeches, Azul being teased, Jamil's DOKKAN, etc.) have their moments of funny ha ha-cringe as well, but at least I can still see them in a serious light.

Books 6 and 7 are enhancing my opinion of Idia solely because they focus on the "traumatized big brother" part to his character. In Glorious Masquerade too... Idia gets the courage to call Rollo out because he knows their experiences are so similar. I think the storyline was done very well, and I loved seeing how Idia grows from an event that no doubt affected him deeply and still continues to influence him to this day. It's clear that he cares deeply about both Orthos and will step up to protect them. I LOVE THAT FOR HIM, it's not as though Idia is completely throwing aside one brother for the other, he's acknowledging them both as his "true" brothers. The way he goes from laughing to crying in his post-OB flashback... Idia getting so mad at us attacking Phantom Ortho with lightning... the willingness to "go" with OG!Ortho to the world beyond... apologizing to Robo!Ortho for falling for the dream's promises of eternal happiness... Aaaah, it's just too good 😭

DIHLBASOFYIAYVYEBfsWPYWPF WHAT CAN I SAY... I like me a reliable onii-san character 🤡 I'M NOTHING IF NOT PREDICTABLE

[nalyra-dreaming]

If you don't mind, for the anon wanting a list of Lestat being jealous or possessive:

Lestat stopping the record and shooting daggers toward Claudia with his arms crossed over his chest when Claudia returned home.

Lestat's demeanor instantly shifting and verbally lashing out right after Claudia told him "a quick stop to pick up Louis."

Lestat glaring at Claudia when she interrupted their dance at the ball.

Lestat appearing visibly annoyed when Claudia and Louis were speaking telepathically throughout the series (ex.  “Not if we are going to have secrets”, “I know she’s talking to you.”

The pre-fight scene when Lestat yelled “Louis. LOUIS! The first sight of her and you were just going to up and leave me?” or  “you're going to leave me?” in the coffin room if you consider Lestat's recollection to be accurate version.

The very awkward "an old love?" Lestat's demeanor abruptly shifting when Louis returned home from the bayou with Jonah.

Lestat visibly irked when Louis stated that he was going to see Grace after Lestat asked him if he wanted to go out tomorrow resulting in a biting "fine".

Lestat inviting all the soldiers back to his place and slowly losing his composure until "I thought you had a type? I thought you would be pleased?"

"It could be her. But unlike Claudia,  I am the one currently standing in front of you. With all the right appendages."

I know most of these examples are from Louis' recollection, but I'll include them for now until we are explicitly shown or told otherwise. Jacob and Sam did say on the NY panel that "there is not one wrong story or one right story, there's not one liar and in truth sayer, we all remember things in different ways". And obviously this comment didn't hold up entirely, but some of these things included on the list were not from Louis's perspective or have been corroborated to some extent, like the soldiers situation because because this is how Daniel incriminated Armand about lying about saving Louis.

Also, if Louis is not telling the truth about these moments, then there's a possibility he wasn't telling the truth about his reactions and responses to certain situations either.

And please forgive my formatting, my phone does this and doesn't let me correct it without adding or deleting numbers and throwing off the spacing further.

Hey!

So first off - thank you! (And anytime...)

But..... (forgive me nonny)

Most of these are not "jealousy"... at least not with the romantic inflection. And I'd argue that most actually stem from another place even emotionally.

That has nothing to do with jealousy imho. Lestat is annoyed, aggravated, and likely hurt, because Gabrielle... did not return. For him. But Claudia did. For Louis. There is a lot at play, a lot we will yet get to see, but he is not jealous of Claudia, or even of Louis to be picked up if you so will. He is gnawing on the fact that Gabrielle did not.

That is not jealousy either. That is fear, and anger. At the audacity that Claudia would care to try to take Louis from him - and the fear that Louis might accept.

At the ball Lestat is very much angry, but he is not jealous, he explicitly does not press the point - because the more than sardonic "if he'll have you sister" (and Louis' lowered eyes) makes it very clear that he actually does not need to be jealous - he had Louis on his side, and he knew it. It didn't stop anything (because Claudia had already set everything in motion), but... that's another matter.

Now that's not jealousy either. That's being hurt and aggravated - and rightfully so, because Claudia is intruding there and Louis lets her. Claudia is no child there anymore. She knows what they're doing there. Neither Lestat nor Louis had that kind of relationship with Claudia, at least not in the show.

See 2. And also because he stayed low with Louis for years, and we know how it then exploded.

(and 8.) Well, the whole Jonah thing is what I meant there. THAT was jealousy, and founded one.

That was anger at a (perceived) rejection. But why would Lestat be jealous of Grace? Also, Lestat's irritation with Louis and his attachment to his family was based in the rite of passage - he knew how it would hurt Louis ultimately.

See 6.

Now that... is a mix. Because that scene reeks of despair. It is not jealousy, not really, though Lestat is rejected by Louis and "his books", just like he was ignored by Gabrielle and "her books", but that is not jealousy per se... it is the feeling of rejection paired with the bitter realization of not being enough. And this "not being enough" is something that expresses itself in hurt and anger then.

I'm sorry I don't see this as you do, but I do think that "jealousy" is too ... flat/short a term for the reasons and feelings behind these scenes, for the most part. There are always like 10 things at play simultaneously, and I do think that "jealousy" is actually quite rare, as a single emotion.

[sapphic-agent]

I really hope my ask won't be seen as mean, hope to word correctly....bc your last post about how Eri and Shig do share some common ground. I agree but it irks me how LoV stans use this to make shig sound not so bad.

Many fics and arts where "shig saved Eri" exists as Eri is an accessory for Shig and nothing else.

I do see the paralels here. I do wonder about the mother....did overhaul killed her?

It's very convenient for the heroes to label Eri's quirk as good ...bc if she had just decay...she would be label as having a bad quirk. Maybe the heroes wouldn't care much. (Makes me wonder where are the healing quirks or medical advancement in this world)

But while they have a similar backstory...how Izu would possible know? I sincerely ask here bc AM went radio silence regards Shig to Izu, same with Gran and the police did a really lousy investigation (I'm assuming is lousy bc we don't see what they did and whatever they did it was one time thing) and didn't share the infos with Izu.

Does Izu knows about the nomus?

Im even surprised he knows shig is TENKO...but of course, such reveal is underwealming as fuck and him and Nana don't take at all.

Izu is mistreated by the narrative and no one talks to him ever.

Not to harpy on your post bc I agree this could have been useful....but like how Izu would know anything about Shig? Unless Shig tells or Izu becames the best hacker ever...or reads mind...he can't know. Ever.

I've said this before, but the reason Izuku doesn't understand Shigaraki is because they haven't interacted enough prior to the Final War.

Their conversation at the mall was a good moment. It shows that a) Izuku has the capacity to resonate with a villain's intent AND disagree with their actions (Stain), b) Shigaraki at this point didn't have a goal or direction, and c) it IS possible for Izuku to understand why hero society is corrupt. It also highlights the differences between them, attempting to show them as complete opposites.

The mall scene was a great way to explain the dynamic between them. And it's something that should have been expanded on throughout the story.

Admittedly, I don't know how Shigaraki's backstory would come up. But I'm sure it wouldn't be a hard thing to do. Didn't All Might pull up Tenko Shimura's disappearance? Maybe Izuku figures it out on his own somehow. Idk.

But to me, it doesn't even specifically have to be Tenko's actual past. It could be an implied thing that Izuku learns from watching how people treat Eri. Hell, part of him already has a clue from his fight with Shinsou.

(One thing I actually hate about Izuku's character is his inability to acknowledge the corruption of society despite being a victim of it. He started off being able to do this with Stain, but for some reason that just went away. He studies under Endeavor, even defends him to Dabi and tells Todoroki he's ready to forgive him. Lady Nagant spelled it out for him and he just... Doesn't react. Doesn't even think about what she said. This is on Horikoshi's awful writing decisions, but it's the one criticism of Izuku that's 100% valid)

Eri shouldn't be used for Shigaraki's redemption. I honestly wouldn't want her around any of the LOV, that's putting her in danger to make another character look better. It's the same issue that I have with Aizawa making Bakugou watch her.

But I do think that Izuku's experiences with the people around him- which includes Eri- should give him a broader worldview. That's typically how development and growth work. If Izuku was going to reach out and try to save Shigaraki, it should have been with an understanding of how society failed Shigaraki.

Saving him also could have meant a lot of different things. Saving Shigaraki from AFO's influence/brainwashing wasn't a bad goal. Saving him from himself, though, is different. People have to want to change, you can't make them. You can give them support, but Izuku wasn't in a position to do so because he's, y'know, a sixteen year old who isn't even an official pro hero. Of course he wasn't equipped for this. Most actual pros wouldn't have been

[bibibbon]

Wait, did Hori completely skip over their second and third year at UA? Or is the graduation talking about a different year?

Love how there's still absolutely ZERO introspection from anybody about the war, what drove Aoyama's parents to force him into being the traitor, Tokoyami and Izuku possibly being Quirkless, or Aizawa being such a shitty teacher that he never noticed the UA traitor being one of his own students.

And Shinsou can go kick rocks. I've never liked him since I learned how pervasive Fanon!Shinsou is in the fandom, and seeing his Goob from Meet The Robinsons ass being rewarded for his victim mentality really irks me. Again, love how Aizawa supposedly hates favoritism despite turning around and favoring Shinsou (and Bakugou).

#BringIzuku'sFluffyHairBack

Hi @nutzgunray-lvt 👋

No hori didn't completely skip over 1A's seconds and third year. The time skip was only a few days (which bugs me even more) so I was talking about mirio and his classes graduation. Personally I feel like it's too early to do such a thing but I mind of see it as hori making a full circle moment with what he mentioned in the war arc.

Oh my Iam so mad that there is no and I mean NO INTROSPECTION about what everyone or anyone just went through!??!?! Like y'all just went through a whole war and there is nothing acknowledging that!!!! Heck not even last chapters hospital scene made an effort in acknowledging what went down. The only type of acknowledgement we get is mirio's speech talking about how the heroes are trying hard to go back to square one and how they know there is a lot of work cut out for them but other than that complete radio silence which is weird as hell.

I mean we have seen people die in that war arc, many suffered injuries or lost things, many are probably mentally or physically scarred or both and hori opening no acknowledgement to that and trying to go back to normal is just horrible writing. The fact that it's been a few days since the war and they're going back to school is horrible in itself.

The series in itself doesn't even bother to mention aizawas faults as a character or teacher. Look I got into MHA because of the fanon promise of dadzawa (so Iam bias and have a soft spot for it) but dam horis writing of aizawa is such a let down to what fics and friends have told me about dadzawa. Also it's such a shame that aizawa apologises to izuku mid battle using his first name btw and then we are never brought back to that moment it's simply a one off. Also the simple lack of intropsection and information coming from every character is seriously annoying me it's like I can tell that they're simply puppets that hori is horribly controlling.

Also yuuga deserves better I have talked about how I wanted hori to use the idea of transfer students and students dropping out but this was unsatisfactory. Iam not saying that yuuga shouldn't of dropped out but Iam saying that there was no point considering that he went through that whole ordeal saying that if he fights that the education system may overlook his treachery but now he is leaving?!?!?!?

I like the potential that shinsou had but in all honesty he is way too underdeveloped for anything. There hasn't been any acknowledgements of his own mistakes and flawed ideology, we never see his interaction with Izuku and him learning that izuku isnt privileged, we don't see him apologising to ojiro for insulting him, we don't see him actually warming up to 1A rather he seems to be happier in his own class. I have talked more about shinsou and what he could of been here

Honestly it never made sense to me why aizawa likes bakugo so much when bakugo is like a carbon copy of his childhood bully so🤷‍♀️. Shinsou I kinda get but dam it's not a good look for sure.

#BRINGIZUKUSFLUFFYHAIRBACK

Horikoshi has no reason to take away Izuku's fluffy hair!! I need it to comeback and I beg for him not to give izuku a disgusting undercut like those aged up fan arts do. Also best Izuku is MHA 411 izuku!!!

[crusherthedoctor]

Hey all, hope everyone's doing good. Thought I should give an update on my current perspective on things around here, as it's shifted for reasons I'll get into.

In a nutshell, I'm feeling better than before... but I also think it's time for me to semi-check out of current Sonic discussion.

By now, you all know that with the exception of Superstars and Dream Team - and Jimbotnik, because of course - I've not been enthusiastic about much of the current stuff. Whether that be the likelihood that they'll continue with a Frontiers direction, the SA2 milking that has made me more sick to death of its influence than I thought was possible, the Year of Shadow in general not being all that enticing if your top ten does not include him, IDW still causing the same repetitive back-and-forths with its characteristically terrible decisions and disproportionate praise from fans who don't actually buy the comic, various other bits and pieces that plant further Eggdad seeds into people's heads, a bunch of other stuff that I'm just apathetic about while everyone else goes crazy over them... it's not been a great time for me. I'm the Garfield, and the current direction is the Monday.

That would all be one thing, but as you may expect, it's the fandom that really irks me. I don't like how it's considered necessary to make every post a bestseller in order for your opinion to be seen as valid and insightful. I don't like how you're expected to not criticise something just because it's popular or "iconic". I don't like how everyone dedicates themselves to the same old lengthy discourse that will continue to not change anyone's minds either way, since the only people listening are the ones who already agreed with them. I don't like how you have Flynn/Archie/IDW stans on one side, and an increasingly common "Japan only, no one else should ever touch the series, also the Japanese fandom is the only one with good people in it, I was born in the wrong country uwu" mentality on the other side.

And... I don't like that I've brought these concerns up so many times before when I know it'll always fall on deaf ears. Why do I do this? Why do I bother? For the fandom, I guess. But if the fandom doesn't even respect me, if my words are always doomed to ring in an empty hallway, why should I bother?

While all this has been going on, the Paper Mario Thousand-Year Door remake has been on my mind quite a bit, as it has been for a lot of folk. As someone who has always loved TTYD, as well as the original N64 Paper Mario, I'm happy to report that I absolutely adore the remake, and quickly considered it a gold standard as far as faithful remakes go. :) There's a lot of reasons for that, but that's best for another time. Anyway, after a certain point, it occurred to me... hasn't it been a while since I've been able to just relax and join in on the hype for something? Hasn't it been a while since my opinion lined up with that of the majority? Hasn't it been a while since, regardless of not actually posting, I felt like I belonged somewhere, and wasn't being made to constantly feel like I'm worthless because I'm not an artist, animator, etc?

I think this is something I've been needing for a long time now. The irony of it coming from the bing bing wahoo man is not lost on me.

After how the past few years in the Sonic fandom have felt like a classroom more than anything, watching everyone repeat the same Why ___ Is Secretly Good/Bad three hour manifestos over and over, and flogging themselves for being Not-Japanese, can you see why the simple pleasures of "hehe Vivian :3" would appeal to me? Can you see why I'd prefer to unwind? I made a valiant effort, but now, I can't force myself to keep up with shit that I'm not passionate about for the sake of a community that doesn't care about what I have to say anyway. I need to find myself a place on here that I can be at ease with.

So what does this mean for my blog? Well, nothing too jarring, just that my focus may shift a little for the time being. Despite what all of the above may imply, I'm not turning in my Sonic badge. I still love the franchise, even if I'm not so fond of its overall current direction. And obviously, I still love Eggman, that'll never change. I'll still answer asks about the series, talk about things I like, reblog stuff I like, work on Stellar, spread Egg Propaganda, and so on. But unless I'm asked about them in certain contexts (ie: "how would you improve this character"?), I refuse to talk about IDW, Frontiers, or anything else whose contents and fandom circles cause me migraines.

Not because toxic positivity, but because after the joy of gushing over Vivian TTYD, and remembering the feeling of belonging, I can't do this again. I can't change Tails calling himself Wildly Inconsistent. I can't change The End being a nothingburger. I can't change Lanolin being an arsehole. I can't change Surge's shilling. I can't change how unprofessional the IDW crew is. I can't change what they're doing with Eggman, and various other characters. I can't change any of these things, no matter how much I or anyone else rants about them, and half the time, no one is seriously listening anyway. So many words for so little results. So I need to move on, stop wasting my time, and turn my attention on things that actually make me happy instead of just... deflated. Maybe if I do that, I can belong again. Maybe when the direction inevitably changes again in the future, it'll feel like it came faster.

So yeah. That's where I'm at now. I hope you guys can understand.

[hanafubukki]

So Hana; I came across a post talking about unpopular twst opinions and was wondering if you had any.

Hello Violet 🌸💚🌷

I hope it’s okay for me to call you Violet 💚🌷

This is a rather interesting question 🤔 and I had to think on it a bit. I honestly don’t know if some of what I say is unpopular or not, so I guess I’ll express a few of my opinions that I have. ☺️🌺

I guess before I list them I should say that this is my opinion only. I don’t mean to hurt anyone by expressing them nor am I calling out anyone. Literally just my thoughts. You’re allowed to agree or disagree✨✨

Normally, I would assume I wouldn’t have to put a disclaimer such as this because everyone has their own opinions and we should all have an open mind but I’ve seen the internet lol and wowza on how some act to such things lol 🌺🙏

I hate the guest room. Personally, I’m not into that kind of mechanics in gaming. It’s not for me. The fact that we have to do it to level up friendship levels irks me. And it’s a complicated system too which is another annoying aspect. I also kind of blame the guest room function for personal stories being lowered since those have been replaced with furniture. It’s just an extra chore that I’m not really into.

Event wise: I think we have too many octa (+ ortho and ace) in them. My diasomnia bias aside, I don’t think the other characters get enough spotlight. When was the last time Ruggie was in an event? Cater? Riddle? Jack? Kalim? Rook? Deuce? I know octa make them money but still, give the others more spotlight? I don’t count the beach or Halloween event either. Because Halloween, half the cast is in it and beach event was similar. Even New years I don’t count, because eventually, we will get them all in new years outfit. The usually four character events is what I’m speaking of because that’s when you get proper screen time and development for each character. I can literally go on lolol

I don’t know why this would be unpopular but it seems it might be? But I don’t hate RSA. They have a lot of potential story telling wise and their side of things. And I know there’s biasness with NRC and we wanting them to win, but I feel there’s more to RSA than we know. Like how we shouldn’t judge villains, we shouldn’t judge the “heroes” either.

Jp schedule wise I don’t think they are too slow as many believe. I think for the working female class, which the game is aimed at, the scheduling is perfect since it was made for them after all. It gives them time for daily life and twst gaming. Doesn’t mean I don’t get impatient either lolol

On the other spectrum, EN is going too quick. With events and main story. Slow down. What are you trying to accomplish except burn out your fanbase?

I don’t want an anime. We will get one. There’s a high chance and I’ll watch it obviously. But I honestly don’t care for one. The issues that an anime will bring…is a lot.

I don’t think the gameplay is boring. As mentioned before, the game was made for the female working class. So the gameplay is to the point, and depending on the event, can be challenging. But grinding wise and all that? It’s pretty working class friendly. If I didn’t have the auto lessons and battles, I wouldn’t be playing it. It’s because of those mechanics that I am. Thats what stops me from playing many mobile games. The constant forced to play and keep track. Hence part of why I’m not into Hoyoverse games.

I don’t really care for “this place in twst = this place in IRL.” to me, it’s a game in a fantasy world. Is it interesting to see some of the influences? Yes, of course. But that’s it. I’m playing this game for the fantasy setting, the magic, the story, and the characters. I don’t really care to add, realism, I guess you could say? (I’m trying to escape reality okay? Why would I want it in my games?? 🤣🤣)

I wish we had more magic in my magic world. And I think it mainly applies for book 7 for me personally and how “wow, tech is going to beat malleus and save the day” but I kind of wish that isn’t the case. Yes, it makes for fun story telling and memes. But, for a magic based dorm, I want a magic based solution. That and the fact, I don’t care for the implication how magic is slowly being taken over by technology. Kind of hits close to home you know?? With all the AI shenanigans.

I hope two certain popular theories aren’t true and I’ll leave it there. My personally thoughts on them is, I hope it’s not that predictable and I had hoped for a different route for such characters/events.

I’ll stop there before I make a whole essay for you to read lmao 🤣🤣 I have more thoughts that I could share but this is already so long 😆

I don’t know if this was a “unpopular opinion” or more me rambling but I’ll let you decide that Violet 🙏💞☺️

What about you? What are some of your thoughts?

Would love to hear other’s opinions as well ☺️🌺

[ganondoodle]

so i sort of half accidentally did the end of totk on monday, i had over 130 hours and slightly over 50% of the game done and did the second to last fight with 3 hearts left and no way to heal but fairies after i gave up multiple times thinking the game might be trying to force me to fight a certain way xD

so im still playing it and am aiming for the 100% but i dont think theres gonna be much more to discover story wise the game is really fun and has a lot of detail and love put into it that you can really see, the music is fantastic as well, some of the characters get more love which is great but the story is … well disappointing but not surprising, especially in its treatment of ganondorf, who still feels incredibly flat as a character, which was to be expected but also … you cant fault people (including me) for faintly hoping theyd do something more interesting tho i will say the end fight is really well done and i cant think of a way to top that in terms of epicness xD

anyway, some unfiltered thoughts and opinions in no particular order (keep in mind i know its viddy game logic uwu but still some things can really destroy the immersion; and also i like to think too hard about the stuff i care about so take this with a grain of salt, i never expected the story to be world changing but i want to remind you that i am criticizing it bc i love this franchise)

--what the hell happened to all the sheikah tech?? botws story gets mentioned a few times but never is it mentioned what happened to all the tons of tech lying around everywhere? if they dismantled the towers for purah to build her new ones around i guess thats fine, but all the srhines? the titans ??? THE SHRINE OF LIFE??? its all gone, esepcially the shrine of life irks me bc the cave is still there and its still called by its bame but its nothing but a cave in a vague shape of how the buidling was it absolutely drives me crazy bc its so dumb?? even if it all stopped working for some reason why would you dismantled it all and even then where did the material go?? why would you dismanlted an neitre building like that anyway?? if you want to have a cave there just have it be half collapsed, if all sheikah tech has gotten useless just leave it there but overgrown?? and why is all of purahs tech still working then? zelda doesnt seem to care about it anymore either even tho shes been so obsessed with it for so long? the titans how would you even MOVE them?? you CANNOT tell me that all this tech that survived tens of thousands of years just went poof within a few years; and sometimes it even feels .. insulting? like you know how much robelo cared for cherry and now shes tiny and just serves as a way to buy fotos for your collection? the fact that the shrine of life is fully gone but the cave is vaguely shaped like its interior and where the bed used to be is a healing pool of water too? like idk if im just insane but it feels like 'haha lol remember what used to be here? get it? the water heals you like the bed in the shrine of life and lol there was the stairs HAHA remember? its gone now for no reason.lmao.' to be clear i like having some mysteries and all but that is just …. so weird? when i discovered the shrine of life i was so taken aback i didnt know what to do, it really broke my immersion, by alot even, it just makes it feel even more like all sheikah tech was replaced by much cooler (tm) sonau tech

--what happend to the sonau people? we only know that rauru and mineru are the last two remaining ones back then but … what made them die out like that? this is by far not as important to me as the issue with the sheikah tech but still feels like a point that could have been mentioned

--as much as i like the open world and how free you are to do things your own way but, regardign the dragon tears i think they should have been locked more behind story progression, i got all of them rather early on and it made it a lil frustrating to play through the other story parts bc you know the truth but you cant tell anyone and everyone around you is acting like a dumbass running after fake zelda while the real one is floating around above you, and i know thats partly my fault for getting them all so early but it still felt like some could have been more well hidden or locked or something since theres no hint to when it would fit to do which one; i expecpted impa to travel to each one but it seemed like she appeared on only a few here and there- additionally i fully expected her to be more important, that she would have an actual involment trying to help zelda undragonfy but that turned out to be very wrong lmao

--why are the enemies in the underground mining sonanium? ganondorf didnt seem itnerested at all in any of their tech, only in the mystery stones (only one too, he didnt seem to want any more of them either) they dont use it for anything? at least the ones on the surface collected stuff they could eat or use for fighting?

--did mineru really build herself a robot body just to fight ganondorf for a bit and then leave? as the last of the sonau, even tho long dead too, why wouldnt she tell their history and knowledge or something and instead if just helping a lil in the fight and then go poof (i half expected purah to be a surprise sage since the spirit one would have fit her i think)

--the zelda being the white dragon plot point lost alot of weight to me when it was just .. resolved like that in the end, i know she spent thousands of years like that and all but it seemed like a much heavier decision that later on felt a little less flat after fidning mineru even tho i felt like i didnt care at all at first bc of the way i found out ,and i half expected there to be an extra mission to try and find her soul again since that apparently gets lost when you do the whole dragon thing, but in the end that wasnt a problem at all, two ghosts and link (somehow naked again) blasting her with some magic(tm) and boom shes back and well and fine woohoo it was a non problem after all i didnt expect her to stay dragon since that would mean the end of the legend of zelda basically, but still it took away alot of the weight of her decision to me? like i get undragonfying her before the end would be difficult since you can get material off of her but still i hoped for something other than boom it resolved itself and i thoguht and worried about it for nothing honestly a post game or even another title where the main focus wouldnt be desstroying yet anyother one note evilest guy of them all and isntead the goal is to bring zeldas soul back and undragon her or something would have been a cool idea tbh tho i know its unrealistic

--did ganondorf think turning himself into a dragon would end the world somehow? did he mean the lil evil goo clouds he spit at you in the last fight to end the world? and how come that he was vunerable to fight? none of the other dragons could be hurt and for an 'immortal' dragon he sure went down fast also how did the stone get back on his forehead? you need to eat it to dragonfy yourself and zelda doesnt have her stone out either (i know viddy games logic but still) (on another note, gan shoving half his arm in his own mouth felt really cursed to watch)

--into WHAT exactly wanted gan to reshape the world into?? only destroying it is such a non reason if you want to rule it? theres nothing left to rule if you kill everything in it?? he just gonna play cards with some bokblins or what -i really wanted to fight ganondorf on the surface, not in his lil miasma incubation cave again :(

--so …. why he evil? are we really doing the and WHOOP suddendnly theres the eviliest guy of the world and he hates your guts for some reason thing again? no tension with the gerudo that seemed to follow him in the lil cutscene we see and the ones that went on raurus side? no actual origin? does he have ANYONE to talk to normally or did he just surround himself by monsters all the time or abadon everyone that once followed him once he got his power up?? you can make any design or fight as good as it can possibly be but in the end its still gonna feel hollow if the character has no character besides evil even the fake zelda wasnt actually him and just a lil puppet made of miasma so even him fucking with people is a little less interesting when he was actually just marinading in his lil goop cave, and the lil hand wink he gives you at phase two can only do so much lmao

--ganondorf is cool and all, but tbh he feels more like the evil miasma goop guy than anything else --why are the old sonau ruins in hyrule so different from the rest? like we know now that they arent actually a civilization from the sky alone but were even in the underground too, and all of their ruins have that blocky white style to it, the supposedly sonau ruins in phirone for example, albeit they share the dragon theme the style on the outside is very much different? and the ancient ruins from the other races dont match it either --are the sheikah descendants of the mixing of sonau and hylians? the white hair and third eye theme would fit to the only alive sonaus we see having white hair (fur?), the literal third eye and their affinity to techonology similar to the sheikah, and zelda having both light and time powers would make sense if its yet another descendant thing, but that would mean zelda was at least part sheikah .. (ngl white haired zelda might look pretty neat actually) but also … it didnt seem like sonia and rauru have been together all that long and no mention or even hint to them having children … which given that both of them die would be an important thing to mention no?

--why cant you do anything with the dongos but feed them????????? i wanna ride them :(

--where is kashiwa????????????????? they talk about him like hes a lost legend

--putting in all the amiibo stuff is cool and annoying at the same time, i spent 5 hours fighting my way throguh the underground to follow treasure maps and found 3 nigh identcal link hats from past games in a row, then two other parts of similar, then two aiimbo weapons and then jsut yesterday another one from a bigger quest that i expected more of; getting the armor sets of past games is cool if you want them but if i did i would have just gotten the amiibos back in botw, my inevntory already feels super bloated with all the new and old armor sets and now the amiibo stuff as well even tho i have like .. half of it all atm (and dont go and argue 'oh so complaining about more content for free???' yes. yes i am.)

--whats with this game and making link almost naked? rauru saving you from death? naked. (annoying) survival shrines? naked. weird teleport to alternate ghost dimension to blast zelda with magic power tm to solve all problems? naked.

--(added in edit) im glad dorephan didnt die!! i fully expected him to have died offscreen or something to make way for everyones favorite fish

--(added in edit) so are definitely other lands besides hyrule if yona came from there, also lol

--the story feels, espeically once you see the last cutscene, very …. uncomfortable to me if dare to think about it more than just taking everythign as its said to you, like … the oh so perfect descednants of the gods(what) marry a normal hylian lady and sourround themselves with perfetly obedient faceless servants of the other races so the perfect and good kingdom tm is born and oh suddendly theres an evil brown man (makign him grey doesnt change the implications, if anything, it makes it worse bc they wont even stand for it and instead are trying to hide it behind uuuuh no no its fine hes blue actally kinda way) from the desert that attacks the perfect good kingdom and king, then he swears alliance to them only to betray and murder da queen right away to get his hands on a super power the perfect and good king held and would have never never used it in a bad way nono and now they need to defend it by all means and at the end woohoo zelda has now again the perfect kingdom with no opposition except the yiga who are (as much as i love them) mostly played for laughs or .. well, evil(tm) as epic and cool the dragon fight was, zelda being the slim tiny white/gold/blue dragon and ganondorf being the evil spiky big black and red dragon and them literally being called white/black dragon feels like wow they arent even trying to hide the black and white storytelling huh (i know its a design trope to the bad be black(color) and the good anything else and spiky vs round and soft blah blah but that doesnt make it any better .. maybe even worse? idk)

the way nintendy was keeping stuff a secret and hinting around so much made me feel like it would finally be a little more nuanced and then it turned out to be even flatter than before and all that secrecy(?) was only to keep dragon zelda plotpoint a secret, something that was resolved no problem in the end anyway (i didnt need zelda to stay dragon but .. it all just lost so much weight the way it was done at the end)

-- (added in edit) master koga is the best character and no one can beat him, the most joy i felt was seeing him again and i am not joking, i wish i could talk to him normally tho without him being able to see through my yiga disguise :( im so glad he didnt die tho bc if he actually went to gan he would 100% be dead within seconds

--(added in edit2) i forgot to mention but was just reminded that link getting his arm back felt super weird too, so really everything that meant major changes got reversed basically ... coool ...back to status quo i guess, couldnt he if he wasnt missing it at least have it be discolored somehow? or scarred? any reminder? zelda too even, could she also have some sort of scar or similar due to her transformation ??

--(added in edit2) so where did the mystery stones even come from? gans and zeldas are gone after dragonfying i guess so ...what?

so in summary, im not eloquent enough to properly analyse all the problematic/questionable stuff and put it into the right words, but these are my random thoughts just spilled out, theres gonna be things i missed, forgot, or gonna think about later, maybe ill add it maybe not

again take it with a grain of salt, the game is still one of the most fun games i have ever played, my problems with it lie majorly in the story, its still very much worth playing!

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

For the prompts Malec as Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce 🫢

Magnus as the one of the most successful and famous pop star ever and Alec as a famous football player who won 2 Super Bowl

As much as Alec loves football, he hates interviews and having to talk to the public. He knows he is lucky enough to live this dream, but he’s not really made for paparazzi and red carpets. He’s meant to stay inside his home and gang up with Jace on Izzy’s cooking.

But alas, life doesn’t always work the way you want and Alec is forced to appear on this interview by PulseCapture Insider. Alec thinks it’s the stupidest name for a channel but so are most of them.

He’s not really here for himself. He’s here for something else—he’s here to set the record straight. Not that he needs to, but because he wants to.

It’s the least he could do.

He’s barely seven minutes into the interview when he’s hit with the question. He’s not surpised because they’ve gone through all variations of the ‘how great was that touchdown’ question.

“So, now that you’re here. We believe it’s a great opportunity to ask you the million dollar question?”

Alec rolls his eyes, internally as he replies. “And what’s that?”

“About your new whirlwind romance with none other than Magnus Bane,” the interviewer comments.

There’s something about the way the interviewer says Magnus’s name that irks Alec. He’s not sure why.

“We’re dating, yeah.”

The interviewer, Sebastian looks a bit surpised, as if he didn’t expect Alec to answer so easily.

Media is so fucking weird. They’ll hound you until you’re forced to tell your truth but they’ll also hound you if you tell your truth easily. It’s insane on every single level and while Alec’s famous, he’s not familiar with the level of scrutiny that actors and singers have to deal with. He’s a sportsperson. There’s limit to that. But celebrities, their lives are on constant watch and Alec hates that.

He’s not sure how Magnus ever deals with it.

“That’s great,” Sebastian breathes.

“Yeah. Magnus is great.”

There’s a moment of silence and Alec guesses that all of Sebastian’s questions revolves around proding Alec. Now he needs a new line of questioning.

He passes a few comments about their relationship before he asks. “So, a lot of people are saying that Magnus Bane is with you for the money. Care to comment on that?”

Out of all the ludicrous things anyone can ask him, Alec believes this one takes the cake. He’s baffled by the judgement in people’s minds.

“If anyone were to be in this for the money, it would be me,” Alec smirks.

Sebastian frowns. “What?”

“I make 18 million dollars a year. Magnus makes around 150. His hair costs more than my entire house,” Alec points out.

“Oh.”

“Anyone with a single brain cell and a working laptop would be able to find out this. I’m guessing you only have one of the two things,” Alec smirks.

The interview ends shortly after that. Alec has a flight to catch after that so the next few hours pass easily. He’s exhausted by the time he reaches his destination.

He enters the building and the watchmen lets him in as Alec is on the list now.

Three minutes later, Alec is inside the loft and he searches for the other man. Alec’s not surprised when he finds Magnus in the balcony.

Magnus knows he’s coming, Alec had informed him earlier.

“Hey.”

His boyfriend turns and even though he knew, even know they’ve been texting the entire time, there’s a beaming smile on his face as he sees Alec.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Alec smiles as he steps forward. Magnus makes space for him on the couch and Alec sits there carefully. This- this, between them is still relatively new so Alec is careful sometimes. Even though whenever he’s with Magnus, he never wants to think again. He never plans or prepares. He just does.

“Hi, baby,” he breathes as he finally connects their lips. Magnus’s smile grows against his face and Alec can feel the heat grow in between them.

“I missed you,” Magnus says quietly, as he brings their forehead together.

“Me too,” Alec replies and pulls Magnus in for another kiss. They take it slow this time, their bodies shifting closer to each other.

“I saw your interview,” Magnus says after a while as he lays against Alec’s chest, playing with his fingers.

Alec hopes he’s not said more than Magnus wanted them to. But they’ve talked about this. There would be no rules. They could both say whatever the fuck they wanted.

“And?”

Magnus turns and there’s a mischievous grin on his face as he replies, “I didn’t realise you’re in it for money, Alexander. I am hurt.”

A loud chuckle escape his lips at the words. “I hate to break it to you but it’s true, baby.”

[lariskapargitay]

So I’m on tumblr and there was a post about the Doctor and ginger like the actual food not the hair color. And I was very confuzzled bc I’m like ‘why is ginger and doctor who a thing?’ So I googled it, and apparently ginger gets Timelords absolutely sloshed.

I then go back yo Tumblr and search for more ginger doctor content bc that to me is hilarious and I guess I missed it in the show but I found out 13 carries around *AN ENTIRE BAG OF GINGER CANDIES*!

Like she just has the equivalent of this on her person?! What the actual fuck, you little alcoholic?!

Also the fact that it’s never really brought up that 13 is essentially a functioning alcoholic (while piloting a whole ass spaceship mind you) is part of my biggest issues with her series overall. There was SOOOO many good ideas buried in mehh writing. Seeing her essentially becoming an alcoholic could have been amazing, like maybe Graham was sober and could have spotted it and talked to her about it especially after she crashed the TARDIS and puts them in danger but we just get a line of ‘oh shit, she’s basically carrying a flask of vodka’ and then nada.

The Master stealing her body could have been AMAZING, perfect chance for a body swap episode, Jodi would have fucking KILLED it and omg Yaz struggling with the fact the Master looks and sounds like her Doctor and is a LOT more touchy-feely than the Doctor? I would have died. But nope, just put him in her clothes and call it a day.

The Doctor being in prison for thirty YEARS to the point she started talking to herself? Amazing! Fantastic, we love that idea! Surely that must have affected her, given her a bit of PTSD, made her question her sanity a bit? Oh she just apologizes for some reason and then it’s never brought up ever again and we only spend 3 minutes with her in prison before she’s rescued? Got it.

An alien that takes the form of something you want to protect and the Doctor doesn’t see any past companion or Yaz, just a random child? Like it irks me, bc the amazing ideas are there, but nothing happens with them.

[weirdwriter69]

Does it bother anyone else that Comte and other characters never try to explain why Vlad is wrong or try to argue with him on his foundation? It irks me to no end when they just go "No, that's bad" without any reasoning. I do not like Vlad's morals, but I can understand them. It is unfair to amuse that all the residents have the same morals, so how do they reason that Vlad's overall plan is wrong? Like no one tells him that if he controls all human thought that he could be taking a key factor away of what makes someone human or how much of a husk of a life everyone would lead. I wish they explored this more because every time I think MC or Comte will try to explain how his reasoning is flawed, they just go "that's messed up", and Vlad magically changes his mind a little bit. He has been chasing this ideal since he was little and has likely had it for hundreds of years, and just being told "yooo, that's bad. put the knife down" stops him??? What the fuck, Vlad? Cybird, you could have an interesting conversation about morality and how it isn't always clear what is good or bad. It would add more depth to a lot of the characters too to see how they rationalize their behavior or highlight how they don't. Side Note: It also bothers me that Faust's experiments are never clear unless you're playing Sebastian's route. Even then, his motivations are vague, but he makes interesting points. I just... he can be so much more complex outside of "evil scientist does fucked up things". His route touches on his past and some religious stuff, but when he goes "ahaha, you would be an interesting test subject", I just don't feel like he is more that an archetype. This is me ranting from memory, so if anyone knows where stuff is that disproves my memory of these claims, please show me. I want to have hope. I could out of the depths of road trip recovery with these thoughts lol.