#I don’t really know if I expect people to read this or not I just had to get it out somewhere

[bidisasterevankinard]

sentences sunday

I was tagged by @diazsdimples @midsummersmorn

guess what? I have sequel for this fix it mpreg (more likely 1 out of 3 sequels)

“Evan?”

His husband hums, still reading the wikipedia page, so Tommy takes the laptop from him, sitting it on his nightstand. 

“Hey, I was almost done,” Evan pouts and Tommy giggles, kissing this adorable face. 

“Sorry, babe, but I have something important I want to talk about with you while I am still brave enough.”

Evan rapidly blinks and Tommy grabs his hand, kissing Evan’s shoulder and then sitting on the bed, facing Evan and moving Evan so he faces him.

“Evan, you and Dany are the most important people to me. My greatest happiness,” his husband blushes and smiles and Tommy again asks himself how this sun hadn’t blind him yet. “For years, I was alone. Too lonely not just outside, but inside my body. Alone and scared. Scared to love and let people love me because it felt like I don’t deserve forever. Like I don’t deserve to keep happiness. Maybe not even feel it at all,” Evan nods, remembering their thousands of conversations after they got together, especially during therapy. “It took me a while to believe that you will stay. That I can keep you and Dany as long as I’m willing to work for it with you,” Tommy can’t stop himself from kissing his husband at this moment. “I have everything I wasn’t brave enough to dream and more than young, scared and pretty asshole Tommy deserved. And I promise it’s enough. But recently, I can’t stop thinking that maybe our family can have another little person?”

Evan adorably giggles, kissing his nose, “Tommy, are you asking about putting another baby in me?”

Tommy shakes his head in exasperation, but hugs Evan’s waist, “yes. I want another baby, because I think now is the best time as ever. I’m soon to be 45 and you are almost 36. I have only a year before I can go to retirement with a full pension. And my friend in the academy told me they would be happy to give me a job there. It’s a good schedule, not like shifts and I still will have good income, so money won't be a problem. Plus you think about applying for Lieutenant soon, as Bobby now actually thinks about retirement in a year or two as Athena planned hers too. And you need to study a lot for it. But before that we can grow our family and you would have time to grow in your career, studying during pregnancy, if you would want to do it again.” 

Tommy swallows, thinking if he's too selfish to add the next part or not. But he remembers he and Evan promised to have full open communication so he continues, but almost in a whisper.

“I also would be really happy to have a chance to share this experience with you,” he looks at Evan who nods to him with a sad smile. “We both know why I wasn’t here for you with Dany, and I left it behind. We left it behind, but I,” Tommy kisses Evan’s knuckles, “I really wish to have this experience with you.”

Evan, with wet eyes and one of the most bright smiles Tommy ever saw, kisses him before saying, “look at my browser history.”

Tommy frowns, but does as he is told.

And what he sees makes him chuckle with tears of joy falling from his eyes.

how to ask your husband about second baby

recommendations how to ask your husband about trying for second baby

how long it takes to get pregnant after stopping birth control

second pregnancy. what to expect

how to prepare your house for coming of second baby

how to prepare your oldest kid for coming of new one

Np tagging @powersuitup @hippolotamus @wikiangela @quintessenceofdust88 @theotherbuckley @weewookinard @queerbuck @repressedqueen @racerchix21 @typicalopposite @mmso-notlikethat @devirnis @loucifersbitch @lavenderleahy @bewilderedbuckley @bekkachaos @pirrusstuff @evansbuck-ley @desert--moonchild @actuallyitsellie @hyperfocusthusly @leashybebes @half-oz-eddie @bi-buckrights

[sugarcubetikki]

If you didn’t know, Christian Linke recently said that they weren’t intending to make Jayce and Viktor romantic but just to show a really close relationship between men which they believe is underrepresented in media.

Of course, as expected, antis have taken this as a way to shut down gay interpretations and bring up how “romanticising a relationship that is meant to be brotherly demeans it”. It is definitely important to have relationships that depict multiple forms of love and yes at its core we can all agree that Jayce and Viktor are two men who love each other.

I believe that despite what Christian Linke says, the way one chooses to interpret that love ultimately falls on the viewer, as their relationship/love can resonate with people in many different ways.

I personally view Jayvik to be partners, friends and lovers because it resonates with me as a queer fan. I personally see a lot of queercoding in the way they were written and that makes it hard for me to perceive them as not having a romantic love.

For example:

Viktor being shown to take Mel’s place in many scenes like Jayce hallucinating him with after Mel and he’s wearing her black eyeshadow.

Mel x Jayce sex scene overlaps with the scene of Viktor becoming entwined with the Hexcore in a way that it makes it difficult for you to even focus on Mel and Jayce.

Amanda mentioning that Viktor was projecting his relationship with Jayce onto Sky this season - the whole science-y bond.

Viktor making the “this is not the bedroom” joke when Mel catches him and Jayce trying to sneak into the lab.

This all resonates with me as queer comphet and their love for each other being superior to that of their romantic interests also feels very queer for me.

And I have the right to interpret them in that way. I respect the way Christian Link interprets them and has shown to depict them but I personally do not see their relationship in the same way and I believe characters are just as much as the audience’s as they are the creators so my interpretation is also valid.

(Also, creators genuinely don’t always agree with each other and they differ in opinions when it comes to interpretations of characters/relations whilst Christian Linke may not see their love as romantic. I believe there might be other creators who do which could explain some of the ambiguity in their scenes).

Also, to the antis, queer love is also a valid form of love, it can exist with/without physical intimacy and still be queer.

Perceiving Jayvik as queer does not demean their love for each other at all. Perceiving them as having a platonic or brotherly bond isn’t wrong either. All forms of love are pure. Queer or not. Jayce and Viktor’s love for each other is pure and can be seen no matter how you interpret it.

The beauty of a story or a piece of art is enabling the perceived to interpret it in a way it resonates with them and it may not be what the creator intended and it may not be what resonates with you but it is still a valid interpretation.

That is to say I also respect platonic readings of their relationship despite not personally seeing it because you have the right to interpret them in the way you want to. And I am asking you to do the same for me and give me the right to interpret them in the way I want to.

[msschemmenti]

girl next door 🏠 - 6

The light filtering in through the bay window was a natural alarm clock and as the delicious soreness thrummed through her body Y/n slowly came to wakefulness. Skin. Smooth skin. Tan skin. Pale skin. More importantly, naked skin. Sleepy eyes worked up the tangled limbs and settled on the blonde and raven hair mixing against the ends of her couch. One minute you’re reading a cheesy romance novel and watching Murder, She Wrote— and the next you're pinned to the back of the couch writhing in pleasure at the hands of your neighbors. And boy was she glad things had worked out the way they did. 

Y/n slowly peeled herself from the couch, quietly sliding out of the jumble of arms she’d been trapped in, and headed for the kitchen. Each step was fairly light, but a constant reminder of the steady rhythm Emily’s fingers had set the night before. She really had started her evening as any normal Thursday. Now that she was a little more settled into her school schedule, she was able to set a routine. Tuesdays and Thursdays were chock-full of lectures and when she left campus she often opted for a little reading or tv. And that is what she’d been doing when her doorbell rang and her lovely neighbors were perched on her porch. They did the casual small talk for a bit but after a while, it seemed JJ had lost her patience as she nudged Emily impatiently. The older woman sent her a pointed look but gave in to her prodding easily. 

“Someone's an eager beaver,” Y/n smirked as she propped her arm across the back of the couch. 

“She’s never been the most patient. We just wanted to clear something up that Garcia mentioned on girls night. You probably don’t even remember, you know so much was said at JJ’s heavy hand.” 

“Is this in regards to the openness of your relationship?” Y/n supplied with a laugh. Both women nodded with sheepish smiles and that only piqued Y/n’s curiosity more. She’d basically been forcing herself to forget those words for the past week and having it brought up now was not something she expected. 

“Yeah, Pen gets a little loose-lipped when she drinks. But we didn’t wanna leave you with the wrong idea about us.” Emily continued. 

“Oh, of course.” Y/n nodded.

JJ, having had enough of Emily’s introduction, took over. “Despite what Pen said we don’t really have an open relationship in the traditional sense. You know the both of us individually dating other people thing– definitely not our speed. But we have been known to invite women into the bedroom.” 

Y/n nodded in understanding and tried to quell the desire that was beginning to purr between her legs. Maybe Grayson was right and this was her chance at a rather good time. With that taken care of and Y/n’s favorable physical cues, everything seemed to shift a bit between the women. 

“Well, how do you normally find your honey? Is it like a dating app thing? I don’t know if you know this but that is very popular amongst straight couples in the south. It’s always a beautiful woman and then get to the second picture and it’s her ugly husband, just standing there holding a big ole fish.” 

Both Emily and JJ laughed heartily and slid closer to the younger woman on the couch. JJ was the one to reply, “No, no. We lean more toward in-person.” 

“Yeah, like we’ll go to a bar and if we’re looking for company to approach whoever catches our interest,” Emily adds. 

“Oh, you do the ‘my partner and i saw you from across the room’ bit. Makes sense that that’d work for you.” 

“And what does that mean?” Emily asked teasingly, eyebrows raising in amusement. 

Y/n’s cheeks heat a bit under the blonde’s gaze, “Well you know. I just think it takes a certain amount of confidence and charisma to pull that off.” Y/n explained looking between both Emily and JJ before continuing. “And I think I’ve made it very clear how attractive you both are. There’s no way that doesn’t work in your favor.”

JJ seeming to have had enough of being subtle grinned, “And Is it working now?”

And boy was it. 

After they’d played her body like a fiddle, she’d been far too spun to tap into any of her manners. Her head was pillowed against JJ’s abs and her eyes were closed before she knew it. She’d fallen asleep on this couch dozens of times now, but this was the easiest sleep had ever found her. Thoroughly fucked and wedged between two beautiful women. What more could she ask for?

“Good morning,” Y/n spoke softly gazing over the back of the couch, watching as the older women came to.  She’d draped a robe over her shoulders and was nursing a cup of coffee in the kitchen when she heard the women start waking. JJ was the first to crack an eye open with a pleased smile and a hum on her lips. Emily was less graceful, grumbling and rolling out her neck. 

“God, I’m getting too old for post-coital couch sleeping,” Emily mumbled.

“Sorry, that’s my fault. Want some breakfast before you hit the walk of shame?” Y/n grimaced behind her mug.

JJ chuckled as she pulled her shirt over her head, “Is there something to feel shameful about?” 

“I don’t think, but if that couch could talk I’m sure it’d have a few things to say.” Y/n shrugged extending her mug of coffee toward the women. “Come on, if you don’t want any food you can bum a cup of coffee off me.” 

-

A little later into the day after Emily and JJ headed home, Y/n finally decided to wash her neighbors' lingering touches off her skin and try to have a productive day. After her shower, she pulled some of her music history classes’ reflections out and settled into her desk to grade. She twirled a red pen around her thumb and index finger as she leafed through the pages and fought her way through most of the pages. She’d just made it through her fourth reflection when her phone lit up with a call, from Grayson of course. 

“You’ve been fucked and I’m extremely jealous right now!” Grayson exclaimed as soon as she answered the call. 

“There is absolutely no way you should know that. I haven’t even spoken yet.” Y/n whined, rolling her eyes. 

“You of all people should know, I’m essentially a sex detector. The sex isn’t up for question, what is up for question is who you were fucked by? I don’t recall hearing about any dates this week.” 

“No dates, Susan was enough to put me off DC dating for a while. I took your advice and was completely open to what appeared on my doorstep.” Y/n shrugged teasingly. The squeal that followed was one she was very familiar with. 

“Fuck yes! Details now. There is no way you had a porno-style threesome with your super hot FBI Agent neighbors, loose on a Thursday evening. This is big for you. You never have fun anymore.” Grayson rambled. 

Y/n scoffed in offense, “Hey! I have fun. And just for that, I think I might withhold details of my best sex-capade as a punishment.” 

“Best?! They’re the best sex you’ve had?” Grayson gawed giddily. 

“Trust me when I say– I forgot my body could feel like that.” 

-

JJ and Emily fell apart breathlessly and gazed up at the ceiling of their hotel room. It’d been two weeks since they’d finally given in to their desires and thoroughly enjoyed their neighbor physically. And since then, that seemed to be all they could think about. It was like the night with her was branded in their brains. And as much as they’d already known this– they really couldn’t stop at one time. It wasn’t like they hadn’t tried others. They’d gotten the itch almost instantly after they left Y/n’s home and in an effort to stick to their one-time rule, they’d found themselves in one of their preferred dimly lit bars. There were dozens of women to choose from and they’d even decided on a perky blonde who’d been fishing for their eye for a while. But there was something so irritating watching and listening to the woman come to a rather noisy release. And both women left fairly unsatisfied with the sweet release of their neighbor on their minds.

“We’re fucked.” JJ groaned as she turned her face into Emily’s neck. 

“No shit.” Emily hummed lightly. She let her hands run through JJ’s mussed hair and replayed the last hour of their time together. It really hadn’t been more than a passing thought in her mind, but something about watching JJ’s muscle contract against her stomach brought the taunt out her lips. Come on Jen, you can do better than that. Y/n rode me better than that, don’t you remember? And it really hadn’t taken much after that. 

“One time you said, one time…” Emily poked. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Maybe one more time, won’t hurt.” JJ shrugged. “Or two more times.” 

Emily groaned, “Oh listen to yourself. You’re already adding more hypothetical times.” 

“I’m just thinking about equity. I’ve been thinking about shoving my head between her legs since we left. And I know if I get to do it, you’ll wanna do it. And then if we’re being fair– it’d really be my turn to have her grinding across my stomach. That’s not even touching on stra-” JJ listed, working herself right back up. Before she could continue on, Emily’s hand crawled back between her legs knowingly.  “Maybe two more times won’t hurt, hm?” JJ reasoned brokenly, hips meeting Emily’s hand as she chased another orgasm. 

- 

 “Well Howdy Agents,” Y/n smiled as she eyed the two women on her doorstep. She’d been deep in one of her guilty pleasure romance novels waiting for dinner to finish baking when the doorbell rang. After their rather scandalous escapade, she wasn’t too sure how to engage with the older women. 

“Hi,” JJ smiled, eyes already sweeping over the younger woman’s form. “You busy?” 

“Not at all, just waiting on dinner. Come on in.” Y/n shrugged ushering both women in and toward the kitchen. “I’m assuming y’all have just returned from catching some crazed maniac?” 

“Yep, Texas is very hot right now. Not pleasant at all.” Emily grumbled, leaning on her propped elbows to get comfortable. She watched as JJ leaned against the counter next to the younger woman, with hungry eyes.  

“Oh yeah, Texas isn’t particularly high on my list of places to visit. But at least they’re down a serial killer– for now.” Y/n called over her shoulder as she pulled the dish out of the oven. “Are y’all hungry? I’ve got enough to feed an army here.” 

Making sure the hot dish was safely out of reach, JJ slid right against Y/n’s back and settled her hands on her waist suggestively. “Could we add you to the menu tonight?” 

Y/n hummed softly leaning into JJ’s hold easily before turning to meet both women’s desire-blown eyes. “Absolutely.” 

And so began a rather delicious pattern that neither woman wanted to break.

[lolashifts]

SHIFTING ISN'T SPECIAL

please bare with me on this one bc it might be a bit longer than i expected (and excuse my very bad title-naming skills 😭)

in this essay i will try to put down in words exactly what i realised today as i started my first day into reprogramming my mind, something that i’m doing while following reya singh’s method. what is that?

shifting IS easy.

yes, i know everybody says it, but it’s the truth and i’m not telling you this as someone who shifts regularly to her drs, because i don’t (yet!). however, it did just click in my mind why people always say it and mean it. and i feel incredibly stupid for not understanding it waaay earlier than just now, 4 years into my journey.

now, let me walk you through the thought process behind this.

in reya’s 4-day method for reprogramming your mind, she instructs to write a list of your beliefs and non-beliefs. this may sound really silly and kinda useless at first - believe me, i woke up this morning thinking “what exactly am i supposed to do after that?” - but there’s a valid reason for it, which is to help you delete from your mind the idea that shifting is like a superpower that’s simply not for everyone and very hard to reach, when that is not the case at all!

in my own beliefs list, i’ve written “i am capable of shifting” right in between “i can speak english”, “i can write and read” and “i can eat --” (and some other things like “i can’t eat gluten”, bc i have celiac disease, “i can dream”, we all do! and “i can lucid dream”). you see where i’m going with this? i’m putting shifting in the same category as things we all normally do, that we sometimes don’t even think about doing since they’re such a natural activity. to this list i could add “i can breathe”, because we do it automatically, without even realising unless we focus on it. the same can be said for drinking or eating really, if you’re angry or thirsty you just go and get whatever pleases you the most and not dwell on it.

in the non-beliefs list, i’ve written obvious things like santa and the easter bunny (which isn’t common here in italy tbf but yeah) and sentences like “i can’t swim”, “i can’t draw”, “i can’t eat strawberries” and in between them also “i don’t fear shifting”. here, the point is that all these listed beliefs are stuff i know for a fact to be false: i can swim perfectly, i am an artist and i love strawberries + i’m not allergic to them or anything. by placing shifting there, i'm stating that just like i KNOW i can swim or whatever, i also KNOW i'm not scared of shifting.

you’re literally gaslighting your subconscious mind into believing what is real for a fact and what isn’t.

after writing down this list, which can be done on paper just like on your preferred device, i reread everything twice explaining to myself why i chose these things and why they are beliefs or not. that’s how i realised that shifting is easy. when people talk about it “clicking” they weren’t lying!

shifting isn’t special, this is what the list thing tries to prove you. it’s not special because, just like breathing and eating and reading, we do it subconsciously everyday. take your own first language: you speak it naturally without having to doubt it, and if you know a second language well enough like i know english for instance (my mother-tongue is italian) then you can even start talking to yourself and think in that language without having to search up translations.

what’s the difference with shifting then?

the difference is that shifting hasn’t been taught to us in the same way as a language has been, all throughout school. the same thing goes for reading and writing: we read and write naturally because we’ve been taught how to when we were young and it’s now engraved in our brains, just like with learning our first language, which is something we normally do thanks to our teachers, our families and the people around us, of course. this doesn’t happen with shifting in most cases, as we all know, which means it’s normal for it to take a bit to grasp as a concept and existing thing/activity. it’s natural, most of us human beings just don’t know about it, nor that we’re capable of doing it.

this is why i said it’s not special: just like breathing, everybody can do it (and so do you)!

going back to the non-beliefs list; i should also add that as a society we usually are taught what to believe in from a young age, and specifically what is believed to be a fantasy, a dream, or something real. as grown-ups, though, we have the right to believe in whatever we want, like shifting. as a realistic person, i understand that some people may have a hard time believing something as great as shifting could be true, because it genuinely doesn’t sound like it! so yes, this is also a factor that can and does make it harder for someone to trust their guts and expect to wake up somewhere that’s only fictional here.

shifting clicks for everybody at different times, but i hope this post will help some of you here understand it better and know that what more experienced shifters say always has a meaning, you just need the time to properly reflect on it to get it!

when it clicked for me a few hours ago i felt a huge rush of adrenaline and happiness bc yes, i can actually shift. i’m just overcomplicating it for no reason and so many of you are doing the same!

it’s okay though, we’ll all get there <3

(psa: if you saw any grammar mistakes or anything NO YOU DIDN'T and also please don't mind if this rant doesn't sound logical, i tried my best to explain myself like i wanted to 🥲)

[strnilolover]

NNN - matt sturniolo - family issues

!Warming! : this writing may contain sensitive topics for some people, including family fighting and burn out. please read with caution if family arguments or arguments in general easily trigger you.

You had slammed the cabinet door shut harder than you expected to. Your mothers words cutting your skin like a knife, your patience snapping like a taut rubber band that had been stretched too far. “I can’t believe you just said that.” you gritted, turning to her.

Your mom stood across the kitchen, arms crossed, her eyes narrowed in irritation. “I said what I said. You’re always lounging around, doing nothing, while I’m the one keeping this house together.” she spat out.

“Are you kidding me?” Your voice rose as you turned to face her, incredulous. “I vacuumed the whole house this morning, cleaned the bathroom, and scrubbed the kitchen. I’ve been running around all day trying to keep this place livable while you’ve been sitting on the couch!” your voice raised more — you were irritated and upset.

why can’t she just see how hard you work?

“And yet, the laundry is still sitting in the basket, isn’t it?” she shot back, her tone sharp and cutting. “You can’t even finish one thing properly!” her own hands slammed against the counter as her words left her lips.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, shaking. “I can’t do everything! I’m one person! You don’t even notice the things I do unless there’s something left undone.” you could feel the tears brimming in your eyes — but you couldn’t let her see she was affecting you, you had to be strong.

“Oh, poor you,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Life is so hard for you, isn’t it? You act like you’re doing me some huge favor by cleaning, but you live here too. It’s your responsibility.”

You stared at her, your chest heaving. “Do you even hear yourself? I am doing my part, and then some! You’re the one who doesn’t lift a finger but still complains that nothing’s good enough.” you choked out.

Her face twisted in anger. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that. You have no idea what I deal with every day, keeping this house running and keeping you in it!” she screamed, coming around the counter and getting closer to you,

“Keeping me in it? Are you serious right now?” you echoed, your voice trembling more with disbelief and hurt. “You act like I’m some freeloader who doesn’t contribute. I’m breaking my back trying to help you, and all you do is tear me down!” Your said. “And on top of everything, I worked a full shift this morning. What more do you want from me?”

you were trying, you really were. Did she not see that?

Her scoff was sharp, cutting through the room. “Oh, sure. You do barely the minimum and expect a medal. Maybe if you spent less time pretending to help and more time actually contributing, I wouldn’t have to ask you for money all the time!” she was almost in your face now, you could feel her breath fanning you.

You stared at her, your hands trembling with frustration as you leaned back a little. “Are you seriously throwing that in my face? Every time you ask me for money, I give it to you. Every single time. Do you even know how hard it is to keep my job and still manage everything at home?”

She shook her head. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint,” she snapped. “You live here. It’s your responsibility to pitch in. Or do you think you’re entitled to a free ride?”

“I do pitch in! I’m doing everything! I pay bills when you’re short, I clean up after everyone, and I still go to work to make sure I can cover my own expenses. What do you even do besides sit there and criticize me?” you snapped back, leaning forward from your leaned back position — though that might not have been the best idea.

Her nostrils flared as her eyes turned dark, and she jabbed a finger at your chest — the force digging into your skin making you wince slightly. “Don’t you dare take that tone with me. I’ve sacrificed everything for this family, and all I ask is for you to pull your weight.”

“Pull my weight?” you repeated, your body beginning to tremble more from your overwhelmed emotions. “I’ve been carrying this house on my back, and you know it! But sure, let’s pretend I’m the problem. It’s easier for you, isn’t it?” you sniffled slightly, the words barely making it past your lips and you tried to keep it together.

“You know what?” she snapped, throwing her hands up. “If you hate it here so much, then maybe you shouldn’t come back. Go find somewhere else to stay if you think you’ve got it so bad.”

Her words stung, piercing deeper than you expected. “Fine,” you said, your voice cold and steady despite the tears beginning to spill over your waterline. “I will.”

Grabbing your keys and slipping on your shoes, you muttered under your breath, “Maybe you’ll finally notice how much I actually do when I’m not here to do it anymore.”

“Don’t come crying to me when you realize how easy you have it,” she called out as you slammed the door behind you.

The cold night air hit your face, mingling with the tears that spilled over as you made your way to your car. Your hands were shaking so badly that it took three tries to get the keys into the ignition.

You barely registered the drive to Matt’s house, your mind replaying the fight over and over like a broken record. By the time you reached his front door, your tears were coming harder, the lump in your throat so heavy it hurt to swallow.

You hadn’t even raised your hand to knock when the door opened. Matt stood there in sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair tousled like he’d been lying down, but his entire demeanor shifted the moment he saw you. His brows furrowed in concern as his eyes scanned your tear-streaked face.

“Baby,” he said softly, stepping aside to let you in. “What’s wrong?”

As soon as his arms opened, you crumbled into him. The second you felt his warmth and smelled the familiar scent of his cologne — something woodsy and comforting — you broke down completely. Your hands clutched at his hoodie as your sobs wracked your body.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just let it out.”

He gently guided you into the living room, keeping you close as he sat down on the couch and pulled you into his lap. His large hands rubbed soothing circles on your back while his other hand cradled the back of your head.

“I-I can’t do it anymore, Matt,” you finally managed to choke out between sobs. “She doesn’t see anything I do. She doesn’t care. She just — she just keeps tearing me down.”

“Who?” he asked softly, leaning back just enough to look at you. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Who’s tearing you down?”

“My mom,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “She said I don’t do anything, but I do everything. I worked this morning, cleaned the whole house, and then she asked me for money again — like she always does — and still told me I don’t pull my weight. It’s like… no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough for her.”

Matt’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with anger. “That’s not fair. You work so hard, and she has no right to treat you like that. I’ve seen how much you do, how much you give. You’re amazing, and if she can’t see that, then that’s on her — not you.” he said, holding you tighter to him.

You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks. “It just hurts, you know? I’ve been trying so hard to keep everything together, and she acts like I’m nothing but a burden.”

“You are not a burden,” he said firmly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Do you hear me? You are not a burden. You’re one of the strongest, most selfless people I know. She doesn’t deserve you.” he stated, making sure you knew his words were true.

“But she’s my mom,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “I want to make her proud. I want her to see that I’m trying.” Matt’s expression softened, and he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours. “I know you do. But you don’t have to destroy yourself to earn someone else’s approval, especially hers. You’re enough just as you are, okay? You’re more than enough.”

You let out a shaky breath, fresh tears spilling over, but this time they weren’t just from sadness. There was something in his words, in the way he held you, that eased the tightness in your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He shook his head, “You don’t have to thank me,” he said gently. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He adjusted you in his lap, tucking the blanket tighter around your shoulders before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Listen, you’re staying here tonight. No arguments. I’m not letting you go back there like this.” he muttered against your temple.

“I don’t want to go back,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Then you won’t,” he said firmly. “This is your home tonight, and for as long as you need it to be.”

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back, and his voice was soft when he spoke again.

“You know you’re not alone, right? You’ve got me. Always.”

You sniffled once more. “I know,” you whispered. “I just… I feel so unappreciated sometimes. Like nothing I do matters.” you could feel the self doubt settling into you now — from your mothers words earlier. Were you really not doing a good enough job?

“It matters to me,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “Everything you do matters to me. I see you, and I’m so proud of you. You’re doing more than anyone should ever have to, and you’re doing it so well.”

You looked up at him, your heart clenching at the sincerity in his eyes. “You really mean that?”

He hummed, “Of course I do,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it until you believe me. You’re incredible, and anyone who can’t see that is blind.” And a soft laugh escaped you, he grinned, his thumb brushing your cheek. “There she is. There’s my girl.”

You felt your cheeks flush at the nickname, and for the first time all day, the tightness in your chest began to ease. “Do you want to talk more about it, or do you just want to relax?” he asked gently. “Relax,” you said after a moment. “I’m too tired to think anymore.”

“Good call,” he said with a smile, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “How about something stupidly funny? Or do you want me to cook something for you first? I can make you those pancakes you like.” You shook your head, leaning into him. “Just stay with me.”

“Always,” he murmured, pulling you closer.

He put on some random comedy show, and you both sat in comfortable silence for a while. His hand never stopped tracing lazy patterns on your back, and every now and then, he’d drop a kiss to the top of your head. By the time you started to drift off, your body nestled against his, you felt a little lighter than you had in days.

© strnilolover

a/n : am i self projecting? maybe. but i’m not in that situation anymore and haven’t been for over a year. but please, if any of you are in this kind of situation, know that there is always a way out. don’t be afraid to ask for help. (i also wrote this on the bus without my glasses so i’m so sorry if some parts may not make sense)

[sapphicslaylist]

I am in agreement with the above, but do want to add an additional perspective: people often forget that Smitten is, and always has been, a very accurate and in many ways tragic depiction of codependency.

He is extremely untethered, obsessed with the classic “bleeding out for your love” romantization, and is completely not ready for a relationship. He is actively drawn to characters who hurt him (Proto/Damsel, and Witch/Thorn, both of who does so in self defense, and Razor, MoC, and Burned Grey, where he presumes she hurts him out of love). His understanding of love is a false and fucked-up notion that he has to suffer to be worthy of her, that he needs to be hurt, and he needs to tend to her and ignore himself. This is how lines like “don’t mind my sacrifice” come up; he believes he is helping. He really does. Is it manipulative? ABSOLUTELY! But he is unaware of this in his own crusade.

Does this in any way justify his actions? NO. IT DOES. NOT. Smitten needs to stay the FUCK AWAY from Damsel, and reevaluate himself before being prepared to romance. The only reason that Thorn works is because that is someone so worn down and exhausted that she does need someone to trust and love her despite the past; she, much like him, is also not relationship-ready (note the fact she is still LITERALLY BLEEDING OUT with fresh wounds/needs to psychologically & physically heal first) but gravitates towards that spark regardless due to her own conflict and the belief that she’s in the wrong for it. Thorn herself was stabbed in the back first, fought back, and once again took the dagger in fear it’d be used against her in Witch’s cycle. When this wasn’t the case, she blames herself entirely for not reading LQ’s behavior correctly; something which is common in victims of abuse and domestic violence when they gain the upper hand over their captor. It feels wrong to them because they’ve been trained to be subservient. Thorn has no clue who she is anymore due to breaking out of the rubric, and can only revert to the past if harmed or step forward very muted alongside him. This is part of why I prefer the abandonment & Slay attempt routes for her characterization; she needs time to rediscover herself. They both need time.

So how does this link back to codependency?

Smitten is a caretaker. He believes it is his responsibility to take care of women he does not know very well, because he is under the assumption he needs to “save” those who are hurt. He sees the hurt, but not the reasons why; he presumes in Damsel that rejection is a judgement of his character opposed to lack of connection. He just so happens to judge Thorn correctly because their desires match up. Given the context of the situation, he is also convinced that his inaction will cause the death of The Princess, and that would be blood on his hands SPECIFICALLY. He is a traumatized, unstable, and dangerous man at times driven by a misled desire to help, and often hurts instead.

This is a very common pattern with people within these relationships: believing serving one (or several) people is their job, to white knight, and to rescue. He is the deconstruction of Prince Charming and aptly points out the masculine side of fairytale expectation in ways it’s not often explored. It is gender roles depicted as something which can destroy a good heart and warp them into something which counters their beliefs.

In essence: is Smitten healthy? NO. Man needs some serious therapy.

Is Smitten malicious? Quite the opposite. He desires not to have the Princess harmed and take her pain away, but forgets that pain is part of being alive. By taking her ability to feel pain unto himself, he removes her agency in her own grief.

Now, the big one: is Smitten EVIL?

This isn’t ABOUT good or evil, is my answer. He is flawed, he is absent, and he is the bloody, brutal truth of how codependency trap both people. These relationships are not talked about enough and are often mischaracterized by lacking information. The game does it beautifully, and I wish that more folks would consider this.

Tl;dr Smitten is not defendable. But to characterize him as willfully malicious and harmful goes against the grain of his entire gimmick and frankly needs to stop.

SLAY THE PRINCESS PRISTINE CUT SPOILERS)

Hey so I’m not the only one who played this route absent mindedly and came back to really think about it and get very concerned right?

One of the things I wanted to say is how UNCOMFORTABLE this line from smitten is

I CANNOT defend you anymore 🙏

On a real note, reexamining this. It’s very on-brand for him. Even if it is a VERY concerning thing to say. I love the smitten but gee golly gosh times like these make me remember this guy is not mentally ok.

Like, telling a girl you will “give her everything she doesn’t know she wants” after she said she doesn’t want to live in a cabin with an actual stranger feels very. Interesting. I don’t have any nice words to say about him in this chapter. I feel like more or less it was so jarring to me. It is in character tho wether I like it or not

I also did this, I didn’t know we could do that

[just-horrible-things]

The courtyard is small and square, a scant span of paving tiles boxed in on all sides by the austere concrete walls of the building. Although sunlight glints off the windows of the highest floor, none reaches the ground. In the centre, a square bed of weathered and greening wood supports a clump of struggling, anaemic greenery.

There are two benches, their design functional to the point of brutality. The first hints of rust are just starting to set in where the grey paint begins to chip. On one of them sits a girl with her knees drawn up into the body of her oversize hoody. Sky blue sneakers peek from under the hem. She is reading a slim paperback, its corners crumpled from rough handling.

The general is a tall woman with steel-gray hair. The decades have added fat beneath her chin and around her middle, but her back remains straight as an arrow and her brisk walk does not tax her stamina. The sharp shoulders of her uniform jacket do much to conceal any softness beneath. 

The girl only looks up from the page when the general stops directly in front of her.

“You are Nikef,” states the general. “Called the Annihilation.” “That’s my name.” “I am General Dejhain. It was my understanding that you are to be supervised at all times.” Wordlessly, the girl points at the camera affixed to the side of the building, its unblinking lens watching over the courtyard.

“You will be part of the Andrazh counter-offensive,” the general continues. “Yeah.” “That places you under my command.” The girl has not moved from her position. The book remains open in her hands. “Are you looking for my handler?” she asks. “No. I came to speak to you, Nikef.” “I don’t really do that.”

“I make a point of speaking to as many of the people under my command as possible. Especially the exceptional. And you are the most exceptional that there is.” Her tone does not make it a compliment. Exceptional – an exception, an abnormality. “All my orders go via my handler. That’s the protocol.” “I understand the protocol. I’m not here to give you orders. I’m here to understand you.” “That’s not part of the protocol.” “It is my protocol.”

The girl closes her book. It disappears into the voluminous front pocket of her hoodie.

“You want to understand me? Go watch the Tempest footage.” “I have studied the failure of the Tempest Project. I have seen the footage. You are very impressive.” “That’s not what most people call it.” “I am a military woman. I am not squeamish, and I know the value of a weapon when I see it. You are very precious, Nikef.” The girl’s upper lip twitches, but she says nothing. “Or did you expect me to be afraid of you?” The general’s smile is a thin, worn thing. “I’m not afraid. You are a patriot. A hero. I have no intention of abusing you.” “Glad to hear it.”

For a brief minute, there is silence. The general has the unmoving parade-ground posture of a lifelong soldier. The girl has a different stillness. She still sits casually, knees against her chest, hands buried in her pocket with her book. But there is a wariness in her, the subtle tension of an animal poised to flee – or to spring. Her eyes never move from the eyes of the general.

“Come,” the military woman breaks the silence. “Walk with me. It’s warm inside, and the cafeteria has snacks.” “Aren’t you worried about disrupting my diet?” The general quirks an eyebrow. “I’m not aware of any dietary restrictions.” “Maybe you should check with my handler.” “I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of selecting your own food. Or abstaining, as you prefer. Come on.”

Reluctantly, the girl slides her legs out from under her hoodie and stands up. Above her brightly colored sneakers she wears plain, dark sweatpants. The general turns, and doesn’t look back, fully confident that the girl will follow. She does, but she casts a long look over her shoulder at the watching camera as she does.

“I’d like to get to know you a little,” the general says once the outside door has closed behind them. “You’ve read my file. You’ve seen the tapes. What else is there to know?” “Your loyalty and your commitment to your duty are remarkable. I get the impression that you aren’t often acknowledged for this, but you should be. You are an example to us all.”

The girl remains silent, trailing several steps behind the general. Soldiers stop and salute as they pass.

“I’d like to understand what motivates you, if you would be willing to share.” “It’s very simple.” The girl shrugs her shoulders, although the general is not looking at her. “I’m a weapon, there’s a war on. What else would I do? Hide under a bed until the enemy come for me?” “After what was done to you, it would be difficult to fault you for turning your back on military life.” “I think most people would find it very easy to fault me.” “Well, perhaps. It’s as simple as that, then?” “It’s as simple as that.”

“Would you like anything to eat?” the general asks as they approach the double doors of the cafeteria. “Or a beverage, perhaps?” “Nah,” the girl says. “I ate already.”

The general continues on. The girl hesitates, falling a little further behind, but she follows until they come to a single door flanked by a pair of soldiers. They salute smartly.

“What is this?” the girl asks. “An office I have appropriated for the duration of my visit. Don’t mind the honor guard, their presence is a matter of formality. I thought a little more privacy might make our conversation more comfortable.” At a gesture, one of the soldiers opens the door, and holds it open for them. The girl hangs back. But after a second, she follows.

The general pulls up a chair and sits not behind the desk but to one side, inviting the girl to do similarly. The girl does not sit. She watches the door close, then turns dark, untrusting eyes back to the general.

“I can see that I am failing to set you at ease. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” “Talk to my handler instead?” the girl suggests. “I have a question that I would rather ask you directly. It is a little personal. I would wait until I knew you better, but I’m not sure when I will next have the chance. I am only here for the afternoon.”

More silence.

“Perhaps I should cut straight to the point.” The girl says nothing, but she tilts her head very slightly. “Have you put any thought toward the topic of reproduction?”

The girl blinks. “What?” “Reproduction. Having children. I know it is early.” “I’m fifteen.” “Not too young to have thought about it. Many girls your age already know whether they want children. Do you see that being a part of your future?” “I haven’t thought about it.” The girl’s tone is flat. “I would like you to think about it. Not to put too fine a point on it, it is a matter of national military interest. It’s likely, after all, that your children would inherit at least a portion of your exceptional ability.”

Very slowly and casually, the girl slides her hands out from the front pocket of her hoodie to let them rest by her sides instead. “I want my handler,” she says.

“I’m not asking you to make any decisions now. And obviously you are still too young to bear a child. I would just like you to think about your options.” The girl is silent, and very still. The general appears to take her silence as a cue to keep talking. “If you have no interest in raising children, you also have the option of contributing your genetics without needing to have any involvement at all with the children. There are medical procedures to extract eggs from the body – it’s a very small and safe surgery, nothing to be worried about. Your medical records indicate that you’ve reached reproductive maturity, so you could contribute your eggs at any time, if you so chose.”

“I want my handler,” the girl repeats.

“No one is going to force you to do anything. I merely wanted to make you aware of the option.” “I will not accept surgery.” “Of course, I understand. You could be awake for the entire procedure, if that would make you more comfortable.” “I’m not going to have surgery.” The girl’s voice is clipped now. “Any surgery. I’m not going to make children for you. I’m not going to give you babies to make – a new Project Tempest, to cut open, or whatever you want to do to them. No. No way.”

The general remains unruffled. She does not frown, but she exhales slowly through her nose.

“I see,” she says. “I must say I am disappointed. I had expected a soldier of your commendable loyalty to understand the importance of your unique abilities to this nation. We must all make sacrifices–”

Blue-white light floods the room as the girl lights up from within. The nerves beneath her skin glow blinding-bright Cherenkov blue.

“Do not talk to me about sacrifice,” she growls.

The general begins to raise her hands in a gesture of placation.

The door behind the girl is thrown open.

The girl does not turn, but before the soldiers are even inside the room, slivers of steel have begun to peel from the barrels of their guns, rising as dust into the air like twisting plumes of candle-smoke.

One drops the gun immediately. The other cries out, but keeps a hold of the disintegrating weapon.

“Touch me and die,” the girl says flatly. “No one is going to touch you,” the general insists. “No one is going to force you to do anything.” “I want my handler. Where is my handler?”

[lyrakanefanatic]

i might be biased bc she’s my fav but i do think that the reason why people hate lyra for being “whiny” is because they genuinely don’t know what to do when they’re reading about a jlb character whose sadness is always a part of them

like with avery she had gone through so much but was always able to cope with how she felt, and she had a very good support system (after book 1 that is 😬😬) like the hawthornes and jameson to help her out whenever she was feeling upset

and with cassie she had gone through so much but could still put her emotions to the side when she noticed that other people were going through “harder” things, and when she needed to solve cases (poor girl was still sad a lot of the time though ☹️☹️)

but with lyra her sadness consumes her. usually we start jlbs books with just the characters living their normal lives, (well tig, tgg, and the naturals at least) before they get this big opportunity and events happen that progressively break them down and ruin their mental health before building them back up again stronger, but for lyra she’s sad at the beginning, she’s sad when she’s getting broken down, (finding more and more about her father in the game and all the flashbacks) and she’s sad at the end. this girl is literally just depressed and y’all are acting like she lit hawthorne house on fire and danced on hannah rooneys grave just cause she doesn’t know how to cope with her emotions yet 😭😭🙏

and in case you guys forgot, the only people who know what happened to her father and are capable of sympathizing with her for it in any way is a literal grandma who was involved with tobias, whose wife had a part in lyras fathers death, and an ACTUAL HAWTHORNE 😭😭

like yeah averys support system wasn’t that good either, and cassies could have been better, BUT AT LEAST THEY HAD SOME KIND OF FOUND FAMILY SHIT THAT THEY COULD SYMPATHIZE WITH?? jlb really said “yessss found family trope for you” to avery and “found family trope for you” to cassie and then looked at lyra like this:

this last part is a joke btw, but because you guys are prob going to say something, (or maybe not idk) she does have a family, but there’s a lot of struggles with her telling them her problems because its not really expected of her. idk how many of y’all are the eldest child but there’s that and also this shame that lyra feels with being upset all the time because its so unlike the old her and she feels she owes it to her family to be like her old self, happy and communicative

[drakorn]

Rewriting Veilguard Part 1 - The World State

Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.

Expanding Veilguard's World State Editor

Like many of us, I was disappointed with the total amount of choices carrying over from past games being only three, one of which dealt with romance, two with decisions made in the Trespasser DLC, and all of them being from Inquisition. This already set the precedent that we shouldn’t really be expecting the game to be as connected to our unique Thedas as we have come to be used to from previous titles—no more uniquely flavoured codex entries, no more small but sweet cameos here and there that make the world itself feel like a larger place that we had helped shape.

Given The Veilguard’s very troubled production history of multiple delays, staff layoffs, and all-around restarts of the entire project, it is honestly a surprise that we even got three choices, so credit where credit is due. They made with what they had. But what if The Veilguard had this vision from the start? What if there wasn’t any of this meddling? What if Bioware simply had more time and control? What if they could truly let us import the World State this game deserved?

Now, for this hypothetical rewritten playthrough, I’m going off from the fact that the Dragon Age Keep will not be used; I actually found it a neat idea to tick my three choices in the character creator, and it would have probably been better had Inquisition done something similar. Why do I think that? Because it means we are not running into any dangers of servers potentially shutting down, leaving us trapped in the canon we happened to have imported last. Converting the Keep into an offline editor was a good idea, but unfortunately not executed nearly enough as, let’s face it, we all expected. So we’re gonna have some fun for Veilguard.

Disclaimer: I’m going to refer to the game’s title as Veilguard from now on, not “the” Veilguard. I really don’t like the change of having a “the” in a series of otherwise one-word, or one-number, titles.

Of course, we have to be realistic about this. It is virtually impossible to implement every single decision from across all three games, and those that can be implanted can’t alter the main plot too much. Certainly, we like to imagine and picture things, but let’s approach this from an actually doable point of view.

Right, so imagine you just finalised your Rook, and then get a screen titled “Past Adventures”. Not just “The Inquisition”. And it would take up the entire screen instead of being shoved somewhere in the corner of the final CC page, which many people missed. I could have missed it too, had I not known beforehand that it was going to be there!

It would say something akin to “You can customise the protagonists and several events from the games Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II, and Dragon Age: Inquisition. These choices will have both major and minor effects on the plot of Veilguard. If this is your first Dragon Age title, you would be advised to skip this section for now, as you may otherwise risk getting overwhelmed. A default World State has been pre-generated for the game.”

Why did I add this disclaimer? Because it would show us, right from the get-go, that we respect both new and old players. If you’re a new player, feel free to skip this part as it won’t matter to you anyway and, quite frankly, you wouldn’t want to spend an eternity in the character creator doing things you might not even be familiar with. But if you’re a returning player or someone who has read up on recaps and watched countless lore videos, come on right in, we’ve got you covered, don’t worry! We know how much time you spent meticulously crafting your World State for Inquisition, so join us and customise to your heart’s content.

If you choose to not skip ahead (honestly the only time I would click “skip” on that shit is if I was a new player), you will be presented with three tarot cards, one shows the griffon, the Grey Warden symbol, one shows Kirkwall’s heraldry, and one shows the Inquisition’s banner. Here’s your previous three games. And now we get to customise them a little. The little gremlin in me would be quite gleefully rubbing his hands at this prospect.

Past Adventures: The Blight

We open the first slide and are immediately hit with a crimson screen and an ambient reprise of several of Inon Zur’s themes from DAO. I loved this part in the game, when you click to customise your Inquisitor and are immediately hit with “Calling the Inquisition”. Really great stuff for early emotions. Now let’s actually customise things.

The Hero of Ferelden

I do not expect us to actually be able to recreate the Warden in the flesh, but I believe they should be at least brought up in conversation or mentioned in codex entries and letters. Here are the things we get to customise about them specifically:

The Hero: Here, we get to tick the race, gender, class, and background for our Warden. Again, no character creator, just fancy tarot cards. But guess what? That would already be more than enough for what we can do. At least we know the game acknowledges their continued existence.

The Warden’s fate: Did the Hero of Ferelden perform the ultimate sacrifice?

Romance: Who did your Warden romance, if at all?

The Companions

Now that our Warden is set, we jump over to DAO’s companions. Each companion has their own little mini-section. The first few questions will always be “Did you even recruit them? And if so, did they survive? If so, were you on good terms or not?” These questions, depending on the answers, will immediately lock or open the more specific ones. Which are, as follows:

Did the Warden have Morrigan perform the Dark Ritual?

What is Alistair’s ultimate fate?

Was Sten reunited with his sword?

What happened to Loghain?

What happened to Marjorlaine?

The Battle of Ostagar

What happened to the prisoner at Ostagar?

The Arl of Redcliffe

What is Connor’s fate?

Is Isolde alive?

Did you help Bevin and return his sword?

The Urn of Sacred Ashes

What happened to the Urn?

The Nature of the Beast

How was the situation between the Dalish and the werewolves resolved?

A Paragon of Her Kind

What happened to the Anvil of the Void?

Who rules Orzammar?

Did the Warden help Brother Burkel create a Chantry in Orzammar?

Did the Warden prove the Legion of the Dead was connected to a noble house?

Did Orta join the Assembly?

Warden’s Keep

What happened to Sophia and Avernus?

Denerim

Did the Warden complete Slim Couldry’s crime wave?

Who rules Ferelden?

Who killed Urthemiel?

Awakening

What happened to Nathaniel?

What happened to the Architect?

What happened to Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine?

As you can see, I have not included all the choices, just the ones I think can be carried over in both realistic and interesting manners. Not all of them will heavily feature in the game; in fact, many of them are for flavour and codex entries only, but there is still merit in those. We know there is a whole lot of stuff happening in the South thanks to the letters the Inquisitor regales us with. So let’s put some world-state uniqueness to those letters. But in this rewrite, some of these choices will, in fact, feature in a more substantial manner.

And that’s Dragon Age: Origins done! Moving on to the next one!

Past Adventures: The Tale of the Champion

When we enter this screen, the CC assumes Kirkwall’s orangey-yellow tone and we get a reprisal of the key DA2 themes by Inon Zur, the most prominent one being, of course, Hawke’s family theme. This one is not going to be as big as DAO, but there are a few important factors nevertheless, especially concerning possible deaths and survivals.

The Champion of Kirkwall

Unlike the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke will actually be customisable in this one. Because no matter whether or not they were sent to the Fade or Weisshaupt, there is always the potential for them to still be alive. So, here are the choices regarding Hawke:

The Champion: Here you can customise Hawke’s gender, class, and personality.

Who did Hawke romance, if at all?

The Party

Pretty much every companion’s card, aside from a few, will have the questions “Did you recruit them?”, “Are they still alive?”, and “Were they friend or rival to Hawke?” at the forefront. Most of it is gonna be flavour, but it’s still my flavour, dammit!

What happened to Bethany or Carver?

What happened to Isabela and the Tome of Koslun?

What happened to Fenris and Danarius?

What happened to Merrill, her eluvian, and Clan Sabrae?

What happened to Bartrand?

What happened to Anders when the Chantry exploded?

Did Hawke approve of Ander’s actions?

Did Aveline marry Donnic?

The Tale of the Champion

Did Hawke protect the Bone Pit from all its dangers?

What happened to Feynriel?

Did Hawke let Zevran go?

Did Nathaniel survive?

Did Hawke side with the mages or the templars?

Fewer choices are carrying over here compared to DAO, but many of the events that occurred in DA2 are only relevant to Kirkwall’s immediate fate, which is already resolved by the time of DAI. Many of these will be flavour again, but some of them, I’m not going to say which, will definitely have a bigger impact.

Right, we’re done with DA2, let’s move on to the last one!

Past Adventures: The Inquisition

And here we get to the big one, the game that most directly impacts much of DAV’s story. We click on the last page and get the green shades and DAI’s ambience themes, a beautiful reprisal of Trevor Morris’ great hits. I would like to once again reiterate how emotional the CC music made me feel here when I was playing the game. Let us now customise our choices.

The Inquisitor

While the Hero of Ferelden will be a background figure in letters and codex entries, and Hawke more of a minor character with a significant role, the Inquisitor will have a much larger presence. Just how large, you’ll find out soon. But for now, let’s customise them:

The Inquisitor: Here you can customise your Inquisitor’s race, gender, class, and specialisation. Their personality as well, for while it wasn’t as apparent as with Hawke, the Inquisitor does still have a distinct range of dialogue choices. You can still be diplomatic, lighthearted, or even rough.

Who did the Inquisitor romance, if at all?

The Inner Circle

As with the other companion sections, pretty much all slides here will feature the “Did you actually recruit them?”, “Are they still around?”, and “Are you friends or not?” questions. Alongside a few specific ones that will definitely have more of an impact here.

Did Dorian resolve the issue with his father?

What happened to Blackwall?

Did the Iron Bull remain loyal to the Qun?

Did Cassandra rebuild the Seekers of Truth?

Did Cassandra discover the book of secrets and what did she do with it?

What happened to Harmond?

Which path did Cole choose?

What happened to Solas’ friend?

Did Varric track down the red lyrium source?

Did the Inquisitor give Vivienne the heart of a snow wyvern?

How was Cullen’s lyrium dilemma resolved?

How did the Inquisitor help Josephine resolve her family’s fortunes?

Was Leliana hardened or softened?

The Path of the Inquisitor

Did the Inquisitor embrace or denounce their title of Herald of Andraste?

Did the Inquisition side with the mages or the templars?

What was the general principle upon which the Inquisition was founded?

Who rules Orlais?

Who stayed behind in the Fade?

What happened to the Grey Wardens after Adamant Fortress?

What happened to Samson or Calpernia?

Who drank from the Well of Sorrows?

Did the Inquisitor respect the rituals at the Temple of Mythal?

Who became Divine Victoria?

The Inquisition’s Influence

Did the Inquisitor ally with the Hinterland cultists?

Was the rift in Crestwood closed?

Was Caer Bronach captured?

Did the Inquisitor make a deal with Imshael?

Was Suledin Keep captured?

Was Griffon Wing Keep captured?

Was Sutherland’s company formed?

What tone did the Inquisitor’s judgments take?

Jaws of Hakkon

Did the Inquisitor learn Ameridan’s fate?

Was Hakkon slain?

Did the Inquisitor share the truth about Ameridan?

The Descent

Did the Inquisitor stop the earthquakes from destroying the Deep Roads?

Trespasser

What is the ultimate fate of the Inquisition?

What is the Inquisitor’s final goal regarding Solas?

Again, this looks like a lot, and it is, but bear in mind that a lot of these will only have minor impacts on the story in the form of cameos and codex entries. However, there are several major DAI choices that will have significant impact.

For our hypothetical rewrite, I shall not list every single choice I made for my imaginary playthrough. Instead, I shall reveal them as we go along so as not to clutter the space too much. And it’s a bit more fun this way.

And that’s the World State editor finally done! I believe all of these choices are able to feature in some capacity, be it big or small. But no matter if it’s a big world-changing consequence or simple flavour texts and cameos, it will still be our Thedas, our own unique version of it that we helped shape.

Now that the past is dealt with, let’s look at the present. Next time we’ll talk about Rook, the six factions, and why a DAO-style origin story selection would have not only been beneficial but very doable.

[vodika-vibes]

Hello! Can I request a little fic where the Reader (GN) is with Mereel and they're kind of the opposite of him in personality (quiet, a little more reserved in public, a little more hesitant) and they're worried they won't measure up to him in the long term?

They just think he's so great and charming and charismatic that people seem to trip over themselves just to talk to him (in Legends, he has a reputation among his brothers for being a bit of a ladies' man/flirt), and it makes them wonder if they deserve to be with him.

So, they voice their insecurities to him bc communication is important and he assures them that he only wants them.

Thank you in advance!

Opposites Attract

Summary: Mereel is everything you ever wanted with a partner, but you’re not blind to your differences. And sometimes you can’t help but wonder what he sees in you.

Pairing: Mereel Skirata x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1226

Warnings: Reader is self-conscious about their relationship

A/N: This is a good request, I love it. But I also love Mereel! Thanks for making it~

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You don’t like parties. They’re too loud, and there’s too many people, and you never know what to say to them. It’s not like you’re the most interesting person in the world, after all.

And so, every time  you come to one of these parties, you find a comfortable place in a corner, near a window, and you read something on your comm or play a game, and you just wait until the party is over.

This has never been your scene. 

You’ve always been a little more quiet than your peers. More reserved. More hesitant. You wouldn’t be surprised if none of your old classmates even remembered your name, let alone your face.

The only reason you come to these parties is because of Mereel. Your boyfriend is an extrovert, not to mention he’s handsome and charismatic. It’s no surprise to you that people trip over themselves to get to talk to him.

It’s also no surprise to you that he’s so popular with women at these parties. No doubt more than one of these women are hoping that he’ll take them home for the night. 

There was a time he would, after all.

Though he hasn’t done that since he started dating you.

Your gaze lifts from your comm, and the book that you’re reading, and you find Mereel with ease. As you expect, he’s surrounded by women, and men, who seem to be doing their best to win his attention.

You don’t blame them. 

Mereel is gorgeous, after all. He looks especially good in the loose fitting tee-shirt and jeans you bought him. 

A tiny smile lifts your lips when his gaze meets yours, and he tosses you a grin and a wink, before he continues talking to his adoring audience. 

You really do love him so much. You love him when he’s being charming, you love him when he’s being goofy, and you love him when he’s being annoying.

But, the more you go to these parties, and the more you see how Mereel interacts with the people around him, and the more you see just how popular Mereel is, you can’t help but wonder if maybe he deserves better than you. Or, maybe you don’t deserve to be with someone so amazing.

You know that some of his friends here think that you’re not good enough for Mereel. They haven’t been shy about making comments to you. Though lately it’s become much more subtle.

It’s only a matter of time before Mereel starts getting invited to these parties with a note asking him to leave you behind when he comes to these parties. 

And then what?

Your best guess is that Mereel will realize that you don’t fit this lifestyle, and he'll apologize to you as he breaks up with you, and then you’ll have to find a new job because watching him hook-up with his flavor of the week would destroy you.

You jump when a light, familiar, hand landson the top of your head. Mereel is standing over you, a worried look on his handsome face, though it quickly turns into a warm smile when you shoot him a bewildered look.

“You alright, cyare?”

You nod, even more confused, “Yes?”

His dark eyes scan your face, looking for…what, you aren’t sure, but after a long 30 seconds his hand moves from the top of your head to cup your cheek, “Let’s get out of here,” Mereel says after a moment, “I’m starving.”

You squint at him suspiciously, “Are you sure? You looked like you were having fun.”

For a moment, he looks like he wants to say something, but instead he just grins and brushes his thumb across your cheekbone, “Yeah, cyare. I’m ready to get out of here.” He offers you his hand, “Come on.”

You watch him for a moment, and then you take his hand and allow him to tug you to your feet. You’re not going to complain about being able to leave this party early. 

You hope he’s feeling alright, though. He never wants to leave these things early.

Mereel tugs you out of the house, and into the brisk air of the night, his hand tight around yours. Not so tight that he’s hurting you, but tight enough that you have the feeling that he wants you close.

After several minutes of quiet walking, you bump your shoulder against him, “Are you feeling alright?” You ask, “You never want to leave those parties early.”

He glances at you, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You stare at him, doubtfully.

Mereel laughs softly, “Really, cyare. I promise I’m feeling fine.”

“Alright, if you say so.”

Several minutes later he stops and turns you so that he’s able to take both of your hands in his, “Cyare,” Mereel squeezes your hands and then brings them to his lips to kiss your knuckles, “Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You looked sad at the party,” He explains.

“Oh, that.” You shrug, “I was just thinking.”

“What about?”

“How long before your friends start asking you to leave me behind when you go to these parties,”

“They wouldn’t.” You shoot him a look, and Mereel has the grace to look sheepish, “They might ask but I wouldn’t do that.”

You sigh softly, and slowly thread your fingers with his, “Mereel,” You hesitate, trying to think of how you want to phrase this, “I know I’m not like you.” You finally say, “I’m quieter, more reserved…”

“Cyare, that doesn’t bother me.”

“You deserve better than me and everyone knows it.” You blurt.

Mereel stares at you for a moment, “No one thinks that, cyare.”

“You don’t hear how your friends talk about me when you aren’t around.” You correct him quietly, “And they aren’t exactly welcoming to me.”

He’s quiet for a moment, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrug again, “They’re your friends.”

He releases your hands and cups your face, “You’re more important to me.” Mereel leans in and bumps his forehead against yours, “Do I want to know what they say about you?”

“Probably not.” You admit.

He scans your face again, “Okay. Then we won’t go to those parties anymore.”

You blink at him, surprised, “You don’t have to.”

“I love you.” Mereel counters, his voice serious, “I don’t want to spend my time with people who make you feel bad for being you.” He gently tilts your head back so he’s able to brush his lips against yours, “You are my choice. Always.”

“Even though I’m not like you?”

“If I wanted to date someone who was like me, then I wouldn’t have asked you out on a date. And I wouldn’t have moved in with you.” Mereel counters, very logically.

“Your logic is illegal when I’m feeling self-conscious.”

Mereel laughs and kisses you again, and then again, “Alright. If my logic is illegal, how about we go home and I show you just how much I love you.”

“I thought you were hungry?”

His grin widens, “Starved.”

Your face heats as you note the way he’s looking at you, “Well, I guess we should head home then.” You reply.

And Mereel laughs before he catches your lips again. You’re not worried about your place in his life anymore…though you might be a little worried about what he’s going to do to his former friends.

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[otaku553]

Haha

[cozymochi]

ok. @ anyone wanting to ask for wardrobe drawing meme crud. I will repeat this AGAIN.

I suppose i will LINK my last post about this boundary. And if nobody wants to click that link, here’s a screenshot of the linked post:

And if that isn’t clear, he’s a screenshot of the boundary tags in the screenshot:

And if that isn’t clear, here’s an Image ID of the boundary tags in said screenshots: [[Screenshot of purple text on a black back background reading: “#Am NOT doing 1 or the last one.” END ID.]]

For the Record: #1 is “Underwear” and #22 is “A Fig Leaf.” I have already said several times that I’m not doing those prompts. Period.

This is the second strike.

I have three strikes. After that I’m closing this up and tossing out the rest in there too.

I am literally begging you guys to please stop testing me and crossing the one single boundary I ask for. Least of all try skirting around it, I’m not dumb. I genuinely have zero obligation to do this and I gain nothing from it.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Outdrawn

f/f contemporary romance

two cartoonist who’ve been rivals since uni, and now have competing webcomics online, have to work together on the relaunch of a cult classic at the comic press they both work at

they both struggle with art-related physical and mental health issues, and complicated families

[halojalex]

we do nOt talk about this interview enough bc ;-;

[mikauhso]

Small fandom rant, feel free not to read.

I don’t really care what an artist has done as a person, unless they’re like literally hitler or someone who you’d punch in public for their crimes, I find it a bit sad and annoying how so many artists online are willing to tear down someone else’s art to say “I did it better.” It’s one thing to give constructive crit in good faith, and it’s another to make an OC-ified version of canon out of your love for something, but creating something out of spite will almost always ring hollow for me. I see so much good art duct taped to posts about how “here I fixed it” or “lol you can’t draw” and I think back to the time when I learned the phrase, “you’ll attract more flies with honey than vinegar.” It disheartens me to see artists and people I’d know to be kind and constructive not extend the same kind of care hey show irl to someone online based on their parasocial relation to them. It’s such a low-stakes game and people will act like a mid show having characters they enjoy is the end of the world, and in doing so will take personal snipes and make insults at the art instead of addressing the actual problem head on, because it’s easier to derail and funnel attention and love towards yourself instead of ask that others improve. I love redesigns born of love. I love rewrites that try to see an artist’s vision, but at a certain point I wonder if people even like what they’re making art about or if they’re slapping something recognizable over top of it in order to ride trends.

The internet normalizes clout chasing to the point where I feel like we do it almost instinctively. That little insult or sly comment at the end of a post, that’ll sway people to your side. Saying why you don’t like some person despite not knowing them. It’s valid to have your opinions but I wish people would act like they would in the real world. You wouldn’t go around and scream at someone who you saw post this one thing one time. You wouldn’t punch someone based on a rumor, or verbally berate them in a restaurant. Yet people post so much shit online and it’s so normalized that we don’t even register it as a sign to log off anymore.

I feel like social media is something incredibly important for communication, but it’s currently designed in a way that centers ourselves and how much dopamine we can get, whether it’s at the expense of others, ourselves, etc. And we’re part of the problem too, we refuse to change and recognize that maybe internet points aren’t worth it and maybe it shouldn’t matter what people think of us. And maybe it’s an opinion I have but I shouldn’t judge someone based on what fraction they put out on the internet of themselves. Maybe I should cook myself a snack or go out for a walk or sit on the balcony or in the yard, talk to a friend face to face. Again, I love what the internet has done for accessibility but every accessible thing is locked behind a service designed to ignore vitriol and anger towards one another.

I guess I fall prey to this too, but I’ve seen this pattern happen again and again and again. There are people behind everything that’s made, and unless it’s ai or something stolen, an artist put their time and heart into it. It’s part of the game to have tough skin but I wish it didn’t have to be a necessity because of spiteful people.

I guess I should add an addendum, this is about a pattern I’ve seen in many a fandom. This isn’t about the morality of a show’s crew or whatever, that’s a conversation for another day that I’m not getting involved in because the personal lives of others are no business of mine. Hah, there I go again. But in all seriousness. I’ve seen it in Hazbin Hotel. I’ve seen it with High Guardian Spice. Velma. Steven universe. The owl house. Any new show I’ve seen come out where someone decides to have a moment and say “I will create out of spite and a need to be seen.” I wish artists didn’t feel the need to ride trends and that we’d value each others’ work as much as something put out by Disney. But that too, is a post for another day.

[prisonpodcast]

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