#I just think they’re such a fascinating couple and there’s so much going on between them that we never got to see

[sondheim-girly]

ok chat we doing this! this is mostly based on the musical versions of the characters.

-it’s kinda irrelevant, but for the sake of keeping track of when this stuff happens we’re gonna say that during canon bob is a senior in high school and Cherry is a junior

-Bob first starts to like Cherry wayyyyy back in the day

-like middle of 8th grade (so that it fits with my other head canons lol)

-she’s one of the only socs who won’t follow his lead without question, which he likes

-and he kind of likes that she’s just completely not interested in him

-he hasn’t really had that experience before, as the perfect charming soc who everyone loves

-anyways during sophomore year he starts to actually flirt with her more and kinda shoot his shot

-but because she only sees the him that he presents around other people she’s just so not interested

-anyways at the end of his sophomore year there’s this big soc party

-and Bob sees cherry standing with some socs staring into space clearly looking miserable

-this is definitely inspired by the lyric “I tell my friends I like their parties wishing i was somewhere else”

-normally she puts on a mask at times like these to seem as though she’s having fun

-but things are getting worse at home and it’s just too loud and she can’t stand it that night

-and Bob just got there so he’s not drunk yet, and he sees her and decides to ask her if she wants to get away

-he loves her so much in that moment 😭

-but she’s all like “I told you I’m not interested Bob 🙄”

-but he’s like “you really look miserable”

-something about how earnest he seems convinces her to go with him

-they end up driving around for hours, and that’s when she sees the side of him that he keeps hidden

-she’s shocked by how sweet and considerate he is

-the next day he asks her out again, and this time she says yes

[crheativity]

Hello there! I came across your blog and enjoyed reading your post about the Overblot Squad Plushie Parts. I was wondering if you would consider writing a Part 3 where the Squad discovers that their plushies have been stolen. It turns out that the culprits are their Vice Dorm Wardens - either Kalim (since Jamil is Vice Dorm Warden) or Ace (since Trey wouldn't do that). I'm curious to know how the Overblot Boys would react to this situation. Have a pleasant day/night!

SUMMARY: Someone took the Overblot Squad’s plushies! How do they react?

WARNINGS: T*cked in Riddle’s section, sorry if Malleus’ wasn’t that good, writing his was really tricky.

COMMENTS: Hehehehe as soon as I read this my immediate reaction was “oh they’re screwed.” 

Part one - Prefect making the Overblot Squad plushies of their respective Seven member - can be found here. Part two - Prefect making the plushies clothes and accessories - can be found here.

He. Is. Ticked. ALL of Heartslabyul is on lockdown until he finds whichever culprit was bold enough to steal something from him! And stealing something that his beloved made from him? Heads are going to roll.

Riddle literally stops people from leaving Heartslabyul and searches every room himself. He, unsurprisingly, finds plenty of contraband, but doesn’t find his beloved plushy anywhere. He’s almost in tears. He really doesn’t want to tell you he lost it, but all hope seems to be lost-

That is, until Ace hands back the plushy with a sheepish apology. He explains that he had to drop something off in Riddle’s room and accidentally knocked the toy into the trash can. He stole it to clean it and was gonna sneak it back. He didn’t think Riddle would notice that quickly!

Ace still loses his head, but only for a week instead of a month, since he had good intentions. Riddle remains snippy at Ace for months afterwards, though.

Walking into his room, Leona realises that something is wrong. You - or at least, the plush you made for him - is missing. He spends around an hour searching his room for it and ends up being extremely irritated when all traces of it are gone. He doesn’t want to admit to his dorm members that he actually misses it, so he tries to sleep without it for a couple of days.

This makes him even more irritated.

Eventually, he wears himself down enough to ask Ruggie what had happened to it. Ruggie groans and explains that the smell of you coming from the plush and accessories was waaay too much for any normal beastman, and that he (along with other Savannaclaw members) had gotten fed up with it and hidden them.

Leona offers Ruggie 2,000 thaumarks to return them. Ruggie doesn’t think twice. 

Azul is sobbing ALL DAY. He is INCONSOLABLE. Octavinelle is getting embarrassed at the fact that their dorm leader - the best and brightest among them - is an uncontrollable mess over the fact that his toy is missing. But what can he do? That’s his best friend, gone! He’s looked everywhere and he can’t find it! What will his Angelfish say? He can’t bear to imagine the look on your face when he tells you he lost it!

He literally pays people to help him find the toy, yet no matter how much money he throws at them and no matter how hard they look, it’s just gone. It’s almost like someone stole it… no, he can’t think like that. If someone really did steal it, he’d probably never get it back! He just wants to hide in an octopus pot.

The Tweels are torn between thinking it’s hilarious and wanting Azul to shut up already. Eventually, Jade returns the plush, explaining that he thought it was fascinating and wanted to study it closer, yet didn’t think Azul would agree. (He also wanted to see Azul’s reaction to his favourite plushy being missing.) Azul is in TEARS of RELIEF and hugging that plushy. He refuses to let it out of his sight anymore. It will go with him (almost) everywhere. Floyd thinks the whole situation is hilarious and will NOT stop teasing him about it.

Jamil at first doesn’t seem like he’s phased. However, those who know him notice the ticks; the muscles in his face twitching with annoyance whenever he’s asked to do anything and the sarcastic comments he often thinks and not says become mutters under his breath instead. He becomes a lot more aggressive in his tasks - forgoing the typical, painstaking care he usually takes for finishing his tasks quickly and shutting everyone out.

He remains this way for several days. People start to get vibes from him and avoid him, which annoys him even more. He just can’t get it out of his head. Why is he so annoyed? Is it because every time he thinks of the missing doll, he thinks of you, upset at him for losing it (whether you actually are or not)? …maybe. He won’t let himself admit it either way. 

A couple of days later, Jamil finds the doll - sitting on Kalim’s bed. He’s immediately interrogating Kalim. Kalim happily explains that in trying to help out Jamil, he decided to try and help clean his room. He knows that the doll means a lot to Jamil, so he wanted to get it cleaned for him! Jamil appreciates it but he’s also this close to losing his temper. Please, just, next time, tell him first, okay? sheesh.

Vil is going to lose his mind. His doll has gone missing. He cannot find it anywhere. He’s already torn apart his room at least three times and called every single studio he’s done a photoshoot in or acted for in the past two months, asking if anyone had seen it. Yet no traces have been found. He has a headache. 

On top of that, Rook has been acting particularly frustrating recently - constantly checking up on his mood and popping out of the most random places. It’s almost as though the universe has coordinated this on purpose.

Wait.

Upon confronting Rook, Vil finds out that his theory was correct; Rook did in fact steal the plush. Apparently, he’d “wanted to see the beauty of Vil’s yearning for the precious thing his beloved made for him,” and so he’d hidden it for a while. Vil’s this close to shaking him by the shoulders, but at least he’s got the plush back.

Pookie? Pookie is missing! Uh oh, that ain’t good. He’s gotta find him, quick. The gacha banners are about to change and he already pre-farmed the mats needed for the character he wants. How’s he supposed to hit those 0.6% odds while without the Little Guy?

He’s tearing apart his room, trying to find the skrunkly before server reset. There’s no way he would’ve taken the toy outside to touch grass, right??? So it’s gotta be in here. Except it’s nowhere to be found. 

He’s about to give in to some totally cringe behaviour - going and looking for it outside - when Ortho shows up, holding the marketable plushie. Idia is snatching it from Ortho and spinning it around the room before flopping on his bed, before realising how cringe he just was. At least he can do his gacha rolls now?

(Ortho’s really confused. He just took it to wash. Did he do something wrong-? Oh well, as long as his brother’s happy now)

As soon as Malleus discovers the plush toy is missing, the rain starts. As he continues to look and ask around for it and doesn’t find it, the rain gets worse. Eventually, NRC has a full-blown hurricane on its hands. 

The weather stays like this for a good two days. Classes have been cancelled as asking students to walk across campus in that much of a downpour would lead to a school-wide riot. And Malleus is still sulking in the corner about his missing plushie.

That is, until a sheepish Lilia surprises Malleus with the plush. He explains that it must’ve fallen in with the laundry and gone through the wash. Since the weather has been so erratic lately, it had to go through the dryer too rather than be dried by the sun, which is why no one noticed where it was for so long.

The rain instantly clears. Malleus hugs his plush and decides to take her to visit you. All is right in the world again. 

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[hearts-4-vicky]

PT.2 WITH KKURA AND CHAE??? omg.. u just got back and it was so good

CALL OVER YOUR HOMEGIRLS ★

Sakura Miyawaki x Fem Reader + Kim Chaewon

Sequel to IN FOR IT

warnings: dom kkura, pillow princess reader, overstimulation, possessive kkura, fingering, MOMMY KINKKK, they’re competitive, petnames, tits i fuckin love boobs, uh chaes jst there, jealous chaewon, edging kinda.., oral, smut(duh), slight angst, chae n reader r bad at communication, thats it…

Wc: 1k

not proofread 😞

“shhh.. shut the fuck up.. anyway, got more for me sweet girl? cmon baby, let mommy hear your pretty voice..”

Sakura started making way to you, stripping herself of clothing with each step. you stiffened, fascinated by her gorgeous body “gonna be a good girl and let mommy play with you?” she grabbed your thighs and pulled you til your lower half was near the edge of the bed. kkura kneeled between your open legs before looking at chaewon, seemingly asking her for permission to begin.

kkura started leaving soft, feather like kisses on your inner thighs, before kissing around your clit. chaewon, wanting to be included, crawled over to you. latching onto your puffy nipples, her tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. you whimpered, but what left your mouth was not chaewon’s name, but sakura’s.

both girls met eyes, seemingly exchanging thousands of words in a couple of seconds since sakura had started licking at your leaky hole. you squealed, pushing chaewons head further into your tits. though, she felt someone push her away just seconds after

Chaewon left your nipple with an audible pop, leaving it swollen and coated with her spit. “wha- kkura unnie! what’s your problem!-“ she confronted the older, before getting cut off “you said she was mine for the night, huh? don’t break that promise chaewon..” sakura went back to teasing you pussy, never pushing her tongue any further. it pissed her off, yeah, but chae wanted you to cum first. she set your head on her lap, watching you squirm around from delicate touches

“mommy… please! jus wan your pretty mouth on my needy cunt!” you whined out to the older woman,

sakura parts from your cunt, sitting up to look you in the eye “hmm? so bossy baby.. mommy doesnt think you deserve it yet.. gonna let her play with your pretty boobs and finger your cute lil pussy?” she moved one hands toward your neglected nipple, rolling it between her fingers. the action earned breathy whines from you, which made chaewon more frustrated.

sakura had her left hand circling your cunt, before putting her pointer finger in, rubbing her thumb against your clit. she never moved the finger in your pussy, wanting to edge you a bit

“ mmhng!—fuck—mommy! s’too much f’me!” your squeals were too cute to her, barely able to contain yourself and you haven’t even started yet?

“oh? m sorry baby but your moans are too pretty for me to stop now..” kkura pinched your nipple harder and started rolling your clit between her fingers, making you cry out in chaewons arms. the latter couldnt help but scowl at the elder girl, how could she make you melt this quickly?

sakura ignored the jealous pupu, shoving her fingers knuckles deep into your needy cunt, using her palm to rub against your clit. she retracts her fingers slowly, loving how you whine out her name before slamming her fingers right back in “gha!- mm.. mommy- so.. soo good” your back arched off the bed, burying your head into chaewons stomach. kkura giggles at this, she loves when a pretty girl turns to putty in her hands. your pretty noises had her creaming her panties, she wanted nothing more but to have you ride her cunt while chaewon watched. maybe next time.. she thought, “ my princess so cute like this! gonna cum for mommy, baby? go ahead..”

with that, you squirted all over kkura’s fingers, leaving no area uncovered. she rubbed circles around your arm, comforting you as you squirmed around.

chaewon watched all of this, feeling a pit form in her stomach each time you moaned another woman’s name. she didn’t introduce you as her girlfriend and this is what she gets. her pretty girl or, sakura’s pretty girl makin a mess on the sheets. she had enough, she didnt wanna share anymore.

“get out.”

“huh- excuse me?”

“you heard me.”

sakura scoffed, muttering a quick ‘cockblocker..’ before gathering her clothes and leaving the bedroom

chaewon let you catch your breath before confronting you, since you were so distracted by your orgasm that you didn’t even notice sakura leave.

by the time you fully recovered, you quickly searched for sakura, the woman responsible for the mind numbing orgasm you just had,

“where’s-“

“the fuck was that?” chaewon was livid, seeing you melt in sakura’s embrace made her feel weird. maybe it’s because your hers, only hers. “what was what?” playin dumb only pissed her off more “you were whoring your pussy around…” she was up in your face now, visibly shaking before you. “thought you were mine? what the fuck happened to that!?” she gripped your shoulders, hard, hard enough to leave deep red marks. “none of this would’ve happened if you— had just introduced me as your damn girlfriend!” you trembled in her hold, terrified of the look in her eye.

“stupid fucking bitch..” chaewon muttered, before turning on her heel towards the door, swinging it open.

“wait! chae-“ the door slammed shut.

hi my lovesss🩷 im so sorry i havent posted that much this month :( ive been busier and had little to no motivation to write.. but i hope this makes up for my absence 🎀 thank you for the support you guys 🫶🏼🫶🏼 theres over 400 of you .. like damn. if you ever wanna ask anything, please go ahead !! (as long as its not weird like some of the anons on here..) i promise that ill post another fic this week and to be more active in the upcoming month ! might make this a lil series this is so silly >.<

stay safe and i love you guys soooo much

- Vicky 💋

[merakiui]

omg I’m just imagining serial killer floyd on death row and interviewer darling! floyd explaining in uncomfortable and graphic detail about how he’d fuck darling to consummate their marriage (because in his mind, they’re already married). just imagine how uncomfy it’d be for his darling or the guard who’s there supervising the interview !! >.<

serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd serial killer floyd

👁 👁 Floyd going into such hyper-specific detail with his consummation fantasy that it even manages to unnerve the usually stone-faced guard………. it was already so tense in the interview room, but now it’s even more so as Floyd continues to ramble on and on, all with that shameless, genuine smile of his. What’s worse is that, as delusional as he may be, he really does love you in the sweetest of ways. He talks of flowery weddings and all kinds of sugary promises between couples, but you know that’s only the surface of a very deep, dark sea.

Floyd who leans as close as he can get and, with his cuffed hands, pantomimes pulling his cheeks apart in a smile. “Why the sad face, Shrimpy? Wedding nights’re supposed to be happy, so ya shouldn’t frown so much,” he says with that silly giggle of his. If he wasn’t a vicious killer, you could just chalk him up to a delusional admirer of yours, but with his sordid past you’re well aware of just how dangerous he is with this new obsession.

According to Floyd, killing you wouldn’t be very fun. He likes to make you squirm and flinch, but that’s all he’ll ever do. Real fear isn’t a pretty picture on your face. If it’s anyone else, it’s exhilarating. But it’s conflicting when he imagines you as a stiff corpse chopped into pieces. When you try to understand his way of thinking, he’ll merely tell you it’s “cuz I like Shrimpy” and leave it at that. So far you’ve yet to fully grasp his character. He’s strange, but perhaps that’s what makes a killer so fascinating. They are human, yet they commit such gruesome, inhumane crimes.

But sometimes it’s hard to imagine Floyd as a brutal killer when his love for you is, albeit lustful and salacious, mostly pure and fluffy.

[bohemianblasphemy]

HIIIII I’VE COME BACK TO TUMBLR FOR THE FIRST TIME IN LIKE OVER A YEAR, IM PIIIINIIIIINNNGGG BAD FOR DEAN WINCHESTER 😭

I’m an apprentice and was wondering if you could just blurb or write (or literally whatever you want/think of!!!!!) about being a fellow hunter in a long term relationship with Dean, traveling motel to motel and eventually living in the bunker with them, setting up an area and tattooing the boys (but mostly Dean) on slow days when we’re bored just sitting around in the bunker. (My vision is super based on knowing his character was supposed to be YATTED but it got cut due to budgeting-ugh).

Maybe also being a witch or something idk just thinking of plot lol hehe I’d be happy with LITERALLY anything! And if you’re uncomfortable doing this or just don’t feel like it that’s totally cool too!

Anon, I love you - this request is just *chefs kiss* Dean Winchester with tattoos would be the death of me.

I wasn’t sure how to implement the witch element into these headcanons but I hope this is okay!✨

Dean Winchester x tattoo apprentice! Reader

It was hard to get a lot of practice in especially out on the road, moving between motels and all the hunting you and the winchesters do- but once you all move into the bunker and settle in, you made it your mission to create your own little corner.

Dean had always been supportive of your tattooing. He is absolutely fascinated with the process of watching you tattoo- whether it’s creating your designs or practicing them on fake skin, he’s always watching.

He would also help you set up your space and help you buy supplies.

Dean always wanted tattoos, but was never sure of what he wanted to get. (Definitely has a secret Pinterest board of tattoo inspiration)

He loves to go through your designs and is in absolute awe of how talented you are. Sam would often find him just going through them in his down time, zooming in on every little detail.

As soon as you are ready to tattoo real skin, Dean is ready to be your Guinea pig.

“I’m ready sweetheart.” He’d say with a cocky grin, but he wouldn’t tell you he’s absolutely shitting bricks. But as soon as that needle hits his skin he’s like “oh… that’s not what I thought it was gonna feel like.” And he’s totally fine.

Sam would eventually get a couple small tattoos from you, his pain tolerance isn’t as good as deans but he still sticks it out like a champ.

You start off with smaller tattoos on Dean, gradually going to biggest more intricate pieces. Some having deep meaning, some because he thought the design was cool ( which would be like 90% of his tatts)

Since you both had been together for a longgg time, you know he’d get something that symbolises you.

He’d also get something for sam 😭 (you just know he cried when he showed it to him.)

Dean just admires your focus and how beautifully you do your work, he’s just such a proud boyfriend of his talented amazing partner.

You’d have to constantly remind him of tattoo aftercare because he can get a bit lazy with it.

“No Dean you can’t scratch your tattoo it’ll ruin it.” “But it’s so damn itchy!”

When the tatts are healed he can’t help but feel so much more confident in himself. Every reflective surface he sees he just flexes his arms and smirks.

If anyone asks about where he got his work done he perks up right away. “Oh yeah my partner did them, they’re amazing right?” And just rambles about you and your talents.

Lovesss when you trace over the work you’ve done on him with your fingers when you’re laying down with each other.

[peachesandfictionalmen]

Jason Todd/Red Hood Headcanons

Very much dcs deadpool vibes

Like being the comedic relief of the Batfam

helps to deflect from the trama

Patronizes the criminals while patrolling to the point of annoying whoever he’s with

Loves to cook when he has the time but ends up defaulting to gym bro chicken and rice if he’s not just getting takeout to begin with

Loves milkshakes (I have no further explanation)

Is meticulously organized and well adjusted

Definitely has a headboard and amazing hygiene (almost directly because of Alfred lets be honest)

Picked up random rich boy habits from Bruce and dick

Like I imagine the entire batfam wears expensive underwear

Probably not much of a drinker, besides the occasional whisky or beer

I imagine he’d enjoy cigars tho

I saw someone say he’d smoke cigarettes especially when stressed and I can definitely see that

After all he’s been through I don’t think he’d be much into vices even though he has every reason to

He probably thinks they’re stupid

Prefers to either wallow or start punching shit when the mood strikes him

The depression workouts go hard tho

Totally drives a blacked out muscle car

Has an indoor mini herb garden and some house plants

Could definitely see him having a big dog

Definitely had a hoe phase when he first came back to Gotham

Like he’d go to bars and just wait for women to approach him

Got really good at playing pool and likes to bet thousands of dollars with people he knows can’t afford it just for kicks

Has so many books he’s close to having a library

Never forgets anyone’s birthday

Has weapons everywhere, pockets(even in his civilian clothes), every room of his home, in other peoples homes, vehicles, like he goes for change in his pocket and pulls out a switchblade or a batarang he stole

Has to force himself into exposure therapy to acclimate back to society (dick definitely forced him to sit at a coffee shop a couple times a week)

Finds women’s makeup routines fascinating

Listens to Eminem and just late 90s early 2000s rap during patrol

Or jazz, there’s no in between

This is really long- whoops

I’m honestly not even done

[octobobble]

Hi. Thought about Thespius and Click Clack a bit too hard. Rambles under the read more

Hello. So.

This pairing is peak, I’m stating that right now, LoveStory is a REALLY FUCKING GOOD ship, there’s so much between them that’s incredible which is why I’m writing this because if I don’t tear into the seams of why Thespius and Click Clack work I think I may die.

First of all, just on the surface, they’re very well written and presented. A writer and his editor, having been working together since before ever becoming gods, and yet one struggles to confess and the other represses his feelings and simply refers to the other as his bestie.

The god of love is the one struggling to confess, which is really funny. This is your domain my guy. And then the god of storytelling, an editor, whose job is to dig into the finer details of a story and make it as good as it can be, can’t seem to notice that the other is stupid in love. It’s awesome.

However we are here for me to dig into it past that. I am pulling up my conspiracy board full of notes and photos because there’s so much symbolism packed into this one relationship.

First of all, Thespius. Thespius is the god of love and mirth, “a love for love and a passion for passion”, who cares so much about the art he makes and sees it all as creations born of love and passion. He ascended first of the two, and seems to be the only god during the game that retains a mostly human appearance, down to things that would likely be considered imperfections (he has a tooth gap!). The things he writes come from the heart, from love and passion, but he can’t bring them out on his own, so they go to Click Clack.

Click Clack is the god of storytelling, which is fascinating, because he’s not a writer. He’s an editor. A job that is often completely overlooked in the creative process and yet incredibly essential to a story. Thespius writes and Click Clack edits, making sure that the story Thespius wants to show the world can be told as well as possible. The fact that he’s commonly referred to as the god of teamwork also adds to this. He works with Thespius to make art.

Click Clack also has a pretty distinctly inhuman appearance. He’s nearly completely black and white, is small, round, and well. He looks like a cartoon wearing a goofy mask. He even tells you that it’s a mask if you insult him, no one knows what his true face is. He looks like an old timey cartoon, like the early days of Disney. Unlike Thespius, who lives in a tent in a field, Click Clack lives in a penthouse, he has his very own ivory tower in what’s basically the downtown of a city.

The story that you go through in Hobbyhoo is about getting them together, yes, but there’s insane symbolism packed in it all. Thespius, the god of love, the writer of the script that Click Clack is editing, is passive. He can’t get the courage to tell Click Clack how he feels, whether it’s his feelings or his issues with how his scripts are being changed. Click Clack, thinking that Thespius wants fame for his writing, is editing out all the love from the script. A story written by the god of love is being sanitized in order to be as marketable as possible. Thespius and Click Clack are a queer couple, Thespius is very visibly trans, Oh Partner Mine is a love story between two women, a character that symbolizes company executives quotes a statistic that comes from a real life statistic about queer rep in media.

Their story is inseparable from the real life struggles of queer art, Click Clack ignores his own feelings for Thespius and erases the queerness of the story for fame. In an attempt to help Thespius, he’s erasing the love in the story. Thespius, the original writer, isn’t brave enough to fight to keep the story queer, can’t find the confidence to confess his own feelings to Click Clack. It’s not until you make Click Clack realize that the love he was erasing from the story, the relationship he refused to let the two female leads have, mirrors the real life queer relationship that he’s been ignoring and denying between himself and Thespius, that he realizes what he’s done.

Their story, their LoveStory if you will, is about queer art. It’s about accepting your feelings, about how art is a group effort, about how you shouldn’t censor and sanitize what you want to write just for the sake of popularity. Art comes from the heart, from passion, from love, and you should never EVER scrub it down into something digestible and unchallenging for the sake of popularity. So go out there and make art, even if it’s weird, even if it’s queer. Make art, and make it out of love.

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn into BG3: Chapter 11

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 11: It's time to visit Auntie Ethel and thank her for helping you out with your hand. It's only polite. Hangovers, redcaps and monster hunters won't stop Tav from thanking a kind old lady!

Word count: 4.1K

A/N: The word count really got away from me on this one.

The next morning you can’t remember too many specifics about the night.  You have the blurry picture of Karlach laughing, sitting by the water with Wyll, and someone laying in a pool of blood.  You shiver at the incomplete memory.

Despite your hangover you’re chosen to go out with Tav, Astarion, and Wyll to go visit Auntie Ethel.  No amount of protests are able to keep you at camp, because Tav assured you there was no fighting and you were just going to thank a kind old lady for her help!  It’s only polite!

Halsin still had things to clear up at the grove so rather than wait around for him you were volun-told to make the trip.  And since you couldn’t say what Auntie Ethel truly is, nor warn them about the Gur bounty hunter…you went along.

As you walk down the hill beside the blighted village you’re expecting to see the hag on the road with Mayrina’s brothers.  But they’re not there, and neither is the basket of poison apples.

The illusion of a beautiful sunny land isn’t there, either.  Instead you find yourselves in the swamp, the smell of stagnant water and algae strong, as well as blood.  It would be easy to miss, you’re not sure how you can tell the scents apart yourself, but it’s there.

“Not quite what I pictured when she said to visit her teahouse,” Wyll says.  He’s looking at the dilapidated bridge and debris spread around. 

“Seems like a good point to turn around,” Astarion suggests.  “I’d prefer not to get my boots wet.”

“It’s just water.”  Tav starts moving through the deeper water that flows through the swamp before the  broken bridge that leads to the island.   Begrudgingly, the vampire follows.  

Wyll steps into the water and offers you his hand to help you across.  You take it gingerly and step forward, only to be met with solid resistance from what should be liquid.  You both look down, your foot atop the water.

You put more weight on it, adding your other leg and letting go of Wyll’s hand.  “I guess Gale was right about the enchanted boots.”

Walking on water seems excessive for someone from a city like Baldur’s Gate.  But after a couple more careful steps and a few jumps you laughed.   For a brief moment your worries and hangover are gone as you hop around on top of the little creek, fascinated by the murky gap between you and the earth.  You spin in a circle then quickly steady yourself, dizzy, but also because you notice the three men you’re travelling with are grinning at you.

You clear your throat and cross your arms, heading to dry land.   “Sorry, that’s just…cool.”

There’s a certain sparkle in Tav’s eyes that tells you he desperately wants to do the same.   You tell him, “I’ve seen your feet, they won’t fit.”

His sparkle fades at the same time his tail dips towards the ground.

“Braaaaagh.”

The sound makes you flinch.  On the little island are the redcaps, apparently still thinking they’re disguised as sheep.  Two are atop the rocky hill in the middle, while a third wanders near the water.  It makes another strange sound that’s supposed to be a “baaaaah”.

Tav approaches it, squats down, and with complete seriousness lets out a loud, “Baaaaah!”

Wyll hides a snicker behind one hand and that’s when you finally notice it.  He has horns and a red eye.

“You have horns!” you shout thoughtlessly.

“Well, you were properly thrashed last night, weren’t you?” Astarion questions.  “And even this morning?  Or are you just blind?”

“I, uh, sorry Wyll…”  You’re about to ask when Mizora showed up but think better of it.  “What…”

“I wondered why you didn’t ask last night,” Wyll says.  There’s a hint of a laugh in his voice, but the sadness over his change is still there.  “I was tasked with killing Karlach, and since I haven’t, I’ve paid the price.  My patron Mizora…”

You’re given a quick rundown of Mizora visiting him when he was with Lae’zel and Shadowheart.  

At the end of his story you ask, “So last night you had…”

You gesture at his face, and maybe the innocence of the question is what makes him smile.  “I’m afraid so.”

“I am so sorry,” you repeat.  At least you had an excuse for not noticing last night, but you were so used to seeing him in game you didn’t give it a second thought this morning.

“It’s not your fault.  It was my decision.”

“No, I mean—well I’m sorry for that, too—but I’m sorry I didn’t notice.  I’m so selfish, I was moping over nothing while you were—are—in pain.”  You bite down on your thumb nail and try to remember talking to him by the water but it’s so blurry now.  Not only were you moping over imaginary problems, he went out of his way to make you feel better when he had very real, life altering things to deal with.

“I appreciate that,” Wyll tells you. 

“But—“

Wyll holds up a hand.  “I have seen enough to know that you truly didn’t notice.  Not because you were too selfish but because you…”

“Because I…?” you ask. 

Wyll shifts uncomfortably.  

“Because you’re naive,” Astarion says.  “And I say this with love, darling, a little—oblivious.”

“Astarion,” Wyll warns.

“I didn’t say dim this time.”

“Astarion!”

“I am not stupid!” you shout.  The redcap startles, hollow eyes on you. “I just don’t…I don’t know things about…things.”

You frown.  They’re talking about you when you’re not around?  You hadn’t considered that.  Of course they did—they talked about each other, too, so why not you?

“To clarify,” Tav adds, “only Astarion called your dim.”

“You did jump in front of a loaded crossbow for a goblin.”  Astarion arches a brow at you, probably thinking how you had called yourself stupid at the time.

Your frown turns to a pout.  You grumble something about moving on from the subject in hopes of never having to discuss it again.  You begin to walk around the redcap with a wide gap, eyeing it warily.

“Now you’re afraid of sheep?” Astarion asks.

“No,” you reply.  You look at the vampire quizzically.  “But that’s clearly not a sheep.”

The men exchange confused glances.  You’re very tired of getting those looks.  

“It’s a redcap?” you say to them.  “Isn’t it?  I’m pretty sure that’s what they’re called.”

Wyll studies the redcap—or sheep as he sees it—as it moves towards you.  It lets out an awkward sound between a growl and a bray, but when you don’t reply it’s sneer deepens.  There’s a shift in the air, a static shock that stretches around the area in what you can only guess is magic.

“Ohhhh, a redcap,” Tav says.  He takes two steps forward, pulls his right leg back then thrusts it forward to kick at the creature.  His boot connects with its middle and despite the weight of the redcap it soars through the air.  

It goes so far you only hear a distant splash of water.  Astarion claps at the distance.

The other redcaps are not quite as entertained by Tav’s actions.  They screech from the hilltop, one jumping down while the other moves its hands in the air.  Roots tangle around yours and Tav’s legs, locking you in place.  The one now on your level charges towards you only to be sent flying by a red bolt from Wyll—eldritch blast.

Astarion lazily throws his dagger at the one on the hill and when the blade lands in its eye socket the vines around you shrivel and die.  You step out, shaking each leg of any remaining debris.

“So you saw through the illusion,” Wyll states. 

You survey the area, that static ring gone.  All you can offer is a shrug—you passed the perception check you guess.  But you can’t tell them that.

Tav loots the bodies of a small amount of gold and alchemical ingredients while Astarion retrieves his dagger.  Wyll offers theories as to how you were able to see the redcaps, but it all comes back to the enchantment on your clothes.  Whatever protection they gave you from harm could be linked to the fact you haven’t had to clean them yet—they still appear pristine despite the blood and dirt you’ve lain in.  In fact, you haven’t felt the need to even wash the sweat from your skin.  Powerful enchantments indeed.

Tav leads the group forward to Auntie Ethel’s house, all of them a little more suspicious of the old woman now that the swamp is no longer disguised.  After the elation of walking on water you’d forgotten about the Gur waiting around the corner.  As you approach the bottom of the hill he’s waiting on, you grab Astarion’s sleeve between your index finger and thumb.  “Maybe we should wait here.”

“What’s wrong?” Wyll asks.  You don’t let go of Astarion’s sleeve even when he tries to pull away.  You wet your lips, eyes darting between the vampire and the direction of the Gur.  Just a few more steps and he’d be able to see you; he can probably already hear you.  

You tug on the sleeve again.  “Ast—you should stay here.”

He finally yanks out of your grip and smooths the sleeve where you’d been holding.  “And why should I do that?”

Because there’s a hunter around the corner looking for you and he might actually recognize you.  Because things are slightly different than in the video game I remember in my past life where you’re a character and not a person. 

Because I don’t want you to have to remember how you died and that you can’t escape Cazador, not yet anyway.

You can’t find a reasonable answer.  

Astarion huffs out a sigh.  “Is this one of your weird feelings Karlach was going on about?  Am I about to die if I take another step?”

You flinch back.  “What?  No, I just…what are you talking about?”

“You seem to know when death is coming,” Astarion explains.  “The goblin, then Arka—who confessed her suicidal plan in a drunken stupor last night by the way, to her friend right outside my tent.  Ugh, I had to send them away just so I could get some sleep.”

You look at Tav and Wyll, the vague image of Arka laying in a pool of blood coming to mind.  

Astarion adds, “You sniff out death like a bloodhound.”

“I just have a bad feeling,” you finally mumble.  

“It’s okay,” Tav says.  “If anything tries to hurt Astarion I’ll take care of it.”

You smile as he gives you a thumbs up, wishing you could believe him invincible.  

“Let’s go see if we get to kill something, now,” Astarion says excitedly.

“Perhaps some precaution is in order,” Wyll suggests.  “Tav and I will take a look first and signal if it’s safe.  Agreed?”

Astarion rolls his eyes but nods.  “Don’t have all the fun without me.”

Tav and Wyll move ahead and around the corner.  You hear their voices as they speak with the Gur, but can’t make out the words.  Then, Tav’s head appears around a rock and he waves you over.  He’s smiling at least, which probably means he wasn’t told anything about what the man is hunting.

You keep yourself a step ahead of Astarion as you follow Tav.  Once at the top of the hill the Gur hunter nods to you as greeting.

“He’s a monster hunter,” Wyll says to you.  Like that is going to somehow comfort you, even if you didn’t know what you know.  

Astarion questions what terrible creature he’s hunting and the scene is triggered.  You gulp as the Gur says he’s hunting a vampire spawn named Astarion, and you can’t help but notice the look Wyll sends you.  It’s a mix of apologetic, confusion, and concern.  Concern for you or Astarion, you aren’t sure.

The hunter mentions he needs Astarion alive. 

“Well here he is,” Tav says, waving a hand at the vampire beside you.  “This is Astarion.”

“What?”  You and Astarion shout the word at the same time, gawking at Tav.  You step to the left and in front of Astarion.

“What are you doing?” you question.  

“Yes,” Astarion agrees, “what in the hells do you think you’re doing?”

“It can’t be…?” the Gur says.

“But he is looking for you,” Tav says innocently.  “And he wants you alive.”

“That doesn’t make it better!” you shout.  You grip your staff with both hands, ready to hit someone—and that someone might be Tav.  

Your fury at the tiefling in that moment almost overshadows the phantom limb as it reaches out into the swamp behind you.  Almost.  Something…twitches.  It’s not you, nor that strange feeling in your head, but something moves.  You can feel it, slow at first but getting faster as feet drag through mud.  You feel grimy water on your skin, the need to follow orders—your orders.  It’s not you feeling this, someone else is, not unlike the connection the tadpole gave you.  

The Gur pulls his crossbow from his back and tries to aim at you, or Astarion behind you, but he isn’t given the chance when something launches over your head and onto him.  He screams as the creature bites his jugular, blood squirting—squirting!!—from the wound.  You shout and jump back only to collide with Astarion.  He sets his hands on your arms to balance you, and then pushes you out of the way as he watches the Gur get killed by—

“Didn’t we kill those little things?” Astarion asks, pointing at the redcap that tears into the hunter's body.  It’s moved on from his neck, now clawing at his stomach.  You watch on, eyes wide and unblinking, breath held in your chest.  Another redcap, this one missing an eye, hobbles past you and joins his companion. 

“We did,” Wyll confirms. 

You’re holding your staff in front of you, still ready to whack someone until the Gur stops struggling.  You let out the breath you were holding.  When you finally blink you see that the eyes on your staff are glowing a lovely violet.

The redcaps grunt, facing you now that their task is complete.  Your eyes dart between the staff and them, and back again.  “Please tell me I didn’t do that.”

“I think you may have,” Wyll says.  “And it seems you may be a necromancer of some sort; you didn’t even need to utter a word to bring the redcaps here and do your bidding.”

“That,” you say, pointing to the corpse, “is not my bidding.”

But you can’t deny that you feel a string of connection to the redcaps now—puppet strings.  Your strings, using them like marionettes. And you can’t deny the way the redcaps watch you like they’re waiting for your next command.  You want to drop the staff, but your body won’t listen.  Because it has to be the staff, right?  It’s cursed or enchanted to let you raise the dead!  Finally you let go of the wood and let it fall to the ground with a clatter.

But the redcaps stare on. 

“It’s okay.”  Wyll tries to comfort you but you’re having none of it.

“No, it’s not okay!” you yell.  You point at the body again.  “I just killed that guy!”

“And for Astarion, no less,” Tav chimes in.  His voice brings you back, somewhat grounding you from your hysteria.

“And you!”  You point to the tiefling.  He flinches back at your fury, having the gall to look innocent with his wide eyes and tail tucked.  “Why did you tell him about Astarion?”

Tav doesn’t get to answer when one of the redcaps launches itself at him.  He’s quicker to react than the Gur and grabs it before it can claw or bite out his throat, and uses the momentum to swing around and throw it about as far as he kicked the first one. 

You picture a string between you and the redcaps, and then a pair of scissors snipping them away.  There’s a moment of hesitation in the remaining redcap, but it soon falls over.  Dead, again.

You sniffle, holding back the burning tears that begin to line your lower lashes.  “He was going to hurt Astarion.”

Maybe Tav had a plan and that was why he told the truth.  Or maybe he just can’t help but be honest, thinking he could bargain with the Gur into leaving Astarion alone.  But you can’t wrap your head around it.  And rather than focusing on the glowing eyes of the staff, that have now faded, the fact you just killed a man with two undead redcaps, you focus on your anger at Tav.  It’s so much easier to be angry than sad.

You step towards him, pull back your foot, and kick him in the shins with all your might.  He has leather boots on, and he’s a barbarian, so he probably doesn’t feel it much, but you kick him again. 

He hops away on one foot, grabbing at his minor injury.  “I’m sorry!”

“He was gonna take Astarion!” you shout. You step towards him only to feel two hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place.  

“Perhaps this argument can wait,” Wyll says.  He doesn’t let you go when he looks at Astarion.  “Why did he want to capture you, not kill you?  He said it was a sacred duty from his people—that’s no small task to be given.”

You shrug Wyll off and cross your arms, facing away from Tav.  Tears slip down your cheeks  as you regain control of your breathing.  You rub at your face with one sleeve.

“How should I know?” Astarion asks.  He’s putting on a front, you think.  “He was most likely sent by my old master, Cazador, to bring me back to Baldur’s Gate.”

They discuss the possibilities—why a Gur was sent, what Cazador would want with him rather than just kill him.  You keep your arms crossed, determined to hang onto the anger as fear creeps along the edge of your senses.

“Weren’t we here to thank a little old lady or something?” Astarion questions, hurriedly changing the subject.  “Perhaps we should move on, before any more hunters show up?”

You are more than happy to get away from the corpse, but the closer you get to Ethel’s the more your anger ebbs away and is replaced by fear.  There are so many things that contribute to that fear, so you hold onto the fury as tightly as possible and refuse to even look Tav in the eye, despite his many attempts at getting your attention.  He flits around you, begging you to say anything to him, sic another redcap on him even, but you’ve quickly come to realize that the silent treatment is the best punishment.

That anger takes you all the way to Ethel’s door, where Wyll knocks before entering.

Though the tea house is a little decrepit and sitting in the middle of a swamp, it doesn’t smell like it.  There’s a scent of a spicy tea in the air, and when you enter you find Ethel sitting where Mayrina is in game, sipping on a cup. 

“Petal!” she says, a smile crossing her features when she sees who’s visiting.  “I was worried you might not find the place.”

Ethel stands and approaches the bottom of the stairs, waving the group farther inside.  “Come in, come, would you like some tea?”

You do your best to hide the fear that creeps along your spine.  In the game Ethel could be a difficult battle, but that was only triggered based on the actions against Mayrina and her brothers.  With none of them there you couldn’t predict how things would go. 

From the corner of your eye you can see Astarion watching you.  He doesn’t stray too far from the group, but he’s never more than a foot away from you.  Maybe killing his hunter endeared him to you?  You should have gotten a few Astarion Approves from letting him drink your blood alone.

While your eyes had wandered around the tea house Ethel and Tav had begun their conversation.  He was also only a foot in front of you, and when you came back into the conversation Ethel was offering her deal. 

“That sounds like a poor deal,” Tav says.  He thrusts his thumb over his shoulder towards you.  “Apparently they can fall out after getting hit in the head hard enough.”

“I don’t think that’s what happened,” Wyll says.  He steps a little closer to you.  You’re starting to feel claustrophobic with all of them keeping so close to you so you take a step back.  

Ethel eyes the men and then you.  There’s recognition in her features but it doesn’t feel quite the same as when Raphael had stared you down.  “Your god must really love you to get rid of that little wriggler.”

You perk up, maybe too much and give away your eagerness.  “My god?”

Wyll casts a warning glance in your direction.  Don’t act desperate, it reads.  You wet your lips.  “How do you know it was my god and it didn’t just die?”

Ethel laughs.  “Let’s just say you’ve got a glow about you.  You all do.  You Chosen.”

The air freezes.  Everything slows…slows…stops.

Necromancer.  

Chosen.  

Control over the dead.  

Necromancer-Chosen-dead three-Myrkul-

You whirl on your heel, fall to your knees, and throw up the fruit that had been forced on you earlier.  You manage to get it into a nearby basket, but the purge doesn’t stop your stomach from turning.  Those words—chosen, dead three, necromancer—keep swirling in your mind.  You hiccup and release more into the basket.  

You tremble.  You’d never thrown up from fear before.  Motion sickness, sure, flue, totally.  But fear?  The shaking doesn’t stop, nor does the urge to keep vomiting.  All you can do is sit there on your knees, breathing heavily as the small dot that is your vision spins round and round and round.

Your head starts shaking.  “No, I’m not—I’m nothing.  Nobody!  I don’t matter.  I’m—”

You can’t be anyone connected to the main plot.  No.  You can’t be one of the dead three or a chosen, because you did have a worm in your brain for a while, and you were on the ship and—and—

“Take a breath,” Wyll says.  He kneels beside you, hands out and ready to wrap around you but only hovering above your jacket.

“I’m not…”

“Just take a breath,” he repeats.  “We don’t know anything for sure.”

He seems so sure, you think.  So solid, just like last night at the party.  How he can be so certain of anything right now is beyond you, and you know what’s coming.

You do as he instructs, your next few breaths are shaky but calming.  You wipe at your mouth with your sleeve, watching as the spittle soaks into the fabric then disappears completely.  “I need to—go somewhere.  Not be…here.”

You stand quickly, ignoring Tav as he calls to you.  You’re on the front porch when you feel something wrap around your ankle and nearly topple you forward.  You come to a stop and turn.  Tav’s tail is wrapped around your ankle and even when you stop it doesn’t loosen. 

“Please, wait.”  

You try to take a step forward but his grip is too strong.  “I need to go.”

“I’ll go with you.”  His tail tightens, desperate to keep you there. It pulls, trying to bring you closer to him even though it’s barely two feet between you.

“I want to be alone.”

“I’ll…I’ll be quiet.”  Gods, he’s giving you that look that makes it feel like you just kicked a puppy.  As much as you try to stay mad it’s fading into nothing but anxiety and fear, and a desperate desire to let him comfort you.  But you need to think, somewhere without distractions and far away from a literal hag.  Even if she hasn’t shown her true form.

“Tav,” you begin, pleading just as he is.  You look at him.  Really look at him.  You take in the black scleras that surround the dark blue of his eyes, the beginnings of wrinkles around his mouth from where he’s always smiling, the slight indent of crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes.   His white-gray hair shifts with the breeze, but his horns stop anything from getting into his eyes.  You wish it would cover his eyes–they’re far too teary for the light-hearted man.

Wyll sets a hand on Tav’s shoulder.  “Let go, Tav.  It’ll be fine.”

The tieflings lips press together, his tail unmoving.

“Tav.”  Wyll isn’t making a suggestion.  With one last desperate look at you Tav finally releases his hold on your ankle.  

You take the steps down into the dirt.  “I’m just going back to camp.  I’ll…see you there.”

Tav opens his mouth then thinks better of it.  Whatever he was going to ask goes unspoken.  Most likely another plea to get you to stay, or to allow him to follow.  

You turn and start walking through the swamp. 

Taglist:

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[imaginesbymonika]

From the dining table |Almost-Finale

Pairing: Damon Albarn × Gallagher! Reader

Plot: Everyone's favorite topic during the '90s and 'OOs; Y/N Gallagher. The mysterious and beautiful younger sister of the two loud brothers rarely spoke during interviews but played the guitar like no one else. And even though she never said a word about her dating-life, the list of her rumored boyfriends kept growing longer with each passing year. Yet, there was one name in particular that just kept on popping up...

Previous part | Masterlist

(2024)

“To be fair my first reaction, when I heard that you agreed to come on here was “there is no way”. Because I personally think it’s a very bold move to have you as the new Oasis’ spokesperson- you know, considering how little you used to talk during interviews.”, Seth Meyers explains, which makes both Y/N and the audience chuckle.

“Yeah, can’t blame ya’.”, the woman in front of him says:” But well, the spotlight has always been on my brothers and their relationship… especially because of their falling out. Which, by the way, was very real. Just wanted to put that out there. Because I have seen those interviews where people assume that behind the scenes everything was sorta alright.” “It wasn’t?”

Y/N shakes her head:” Not at all. They both truly didn’t speak to one another for over a decade. Not a single word. They understand very well, that the second they’re getting interviewed it’s going to the brought up: those nasty comments, the fights… they finally just started to get along again, why risk any of that. It’s so fragile.”

Seth scans her features for a moment before leaning back in his chair:” I guess you’re right. But, you know… you’re fascinating on your own. So I am more than happy to have just you on this show. How come you never spoke during interviews-?” He raises his hand and begins counting his fingers:” Or concerts, award shows, red carpets…”

“One thing about my brothers, in case you haven’t noticed yet-.”, she shortly faces the audience before once again looking at Seth:” They love to talk. A lot. I didn’t. So I figured, that I might as well just don’t. And to be fair, neither one of them cared much about it, did they?”

“The whole thing turned you into quite the enigma.”

“Loved it.”, Y/N exclaims while taking a sip of her water: “And in the beginning I sorta just wanted to see how people would react to this whole “me being silent”- act. But they were obsessed with it.”

“You never spoke and threw some of the best Hollywood parties of the ’90s and 2000s.” The statement makes Y/N merely roll her eyes:” Please. Those celebrities just came around because there was always cocaine at my place.” At that audience members gasp which only makes her laugh in return:” Whoops, I’m sorry. God. I thought that was general knowledge.”

Y/N faces Seth again:” My two brothers did it. I did it; plus everyone’s favorite celebrity did it.” She takes a sip of her water while Seth clears his throat, which makes a few people laugh:” Speaking of your beloved brothers- one in particular. Liam. He really loves being on the internet, doesn’t he?”

”He’s a man of the people.”

Seth once again giggles before reaching under his wooden table:“ And a couple of days ago, he posted something on X that kind of made everyone go crazy. But then he suddenly deleted it again. Only to tweet this a few moments later...“ He flips one of the cards around showing a tweet that goes “Brothers n sisters y/n made me delete me tweet cmon i am a grown man with me own thoughts and im getting supervised like a little boy HER ATTITUDE STINKS”.

The audience laughs while the woman only shrugs: “To be fair I do have his notifications on in case things like that happen.”

“Well.”, Seth says in between giggles and flips a second card around:” This is the tweet he deleted: “Liam’s karma is that Gene looks like a young Damon Albarn”.” Underneath that tweet are two pictures attached: one showing Liam’s son Gene next to a young Damon Albarn. Y/N looks at them both and laughs:” Jesus.”

“And Liam’s reply was…”, he flips yet another card around:” “No me karma is that he’s now sitting with us at the dinner table”. Y/N reaches for her drink while a small smile makes its way on her face.

“Is Liam talking about his own son or is he talking about Damon from Blur?” “Well, guess.”, she answers, now fully grinning at the host. A couple of audience members audibly gasp at her response, to which she simply laughs.

Seth leans forward:” Are you telling me right now that you are dating Damon Albarn?” The woman in front of him stares at him for a few moments before nodding her head. You could hear a needle drop. “Jesus.”, Y/N mutters:” It’s not like we haven’t dated before.”

“I beg your pardon?”, Seth’s eyes widen and his jaw drops. “Yeah, back in the ‘90s.” “During the time your band had this huge feud with Blur?”

“I do admit the timing was unbelievably shite.”

Seth leans back in his chair again and crosses his arms in front of his chest:” I cannot believe this. Truly.” She laughs at his reaction:” Well, it’s true. I don’t know what else to tell you.“

“And your brothers didn’t know about it?”, Seth asks tilting his head slightly:” They had no clue at all? I find that hard to believe.” A soft sigh leaves his guests lips:” I think maybe they had their suspicions, I’m their sister after all. But there just wasn’t enough evidence. I remember that one night-.”

(1996)

“I know for a fact you’re seeing someone.”, Liam unexpectedly says, making Y/N flinch. “What the fuck, Liam.”, she hisses, while looking down at her once white shirt, that’s now covered in red wine stains:” That was fucking expensive.”

Her brother merely rolls his eyes. Noel who’s sitting with his back turned to his two siblings puts his cigarette out. “Who is it?”, Liam asks. “What are you even on about? God, you’re so annoying!”, Y/N stands up and makes her way towards the small bathroom of their tour bus. “I know you’re seeing someone. It’s written all over ya stupid face, I-.”

“Hey!”, Noel cuts him off and turns around, he raises his finger:” Don’t talk to her like that. Be nice, for fucks sake.” Y/N who’s trying her absolute best to remove the big stains softly smiles to herself. “Whatever. I know you’re seeing someone, and I’ll find out who it is.”

“What if it’s Albarn?”, Bonehead asks, while mindlessly flipping through a Playboy magazine. Y/N swallows thickly. “Now don’t be ridiculous. Our sister has too much backbone for that, right?”, Noel says, sounding more than offended.

“Yeah.”, Y/N exclaims while keeping her head low:” Oh absolutely. You’ve never seen anyone with that much backbone…”

(2024)

“They would’ve thrown you out of the band.”

Y/N makes a face:” Liam might still throw me out.” It’s followed by a laughter:”He truly isn’t happy about it. But I’m his baby sister, so he’ll be alright. He has never been able to stay mad at me for long.”

“Y/N from Oasis is dating Damon from Blue.”, Seth mutters and shakes his head before turning to the audience:” If you haven’t been around in the ‘90’s you won’t understand how big of a deal that is.” He turns to face Y/N again:” How serious is it?”

“Oh very.”, she replies:” I’ve met his daughter, a week after we started seeing one another again. She’s lovely. I re-introduced him to my brothers a week after that. We-.“

“How did they react?”

“Guess.”

[sodasa-was-taken]

How subtle is the romance of G-Witch really: The language of romance and the bias in interpretation

First of all, I want to express my gratitude for all the feedback I've received. You guys are awesome. When I posted my first analysis, I had no idea how it would be perceived. Throughout my life, I've mostly been met with confusion, if not a bit of curiosity, when I've told people about my fascination with the romance genre. Even people who like the genre don't treat it with the respect I do but rather see it as something they can turn their brains off to. I was scared that people who saw my analysis would think that G-Witch, I dunno, had too much else going on to be considered a romance. I can't tell you all how validating it's been to get this much praise for writing about one of my biggest passions. Thank you so much.

This post is less an analysis of G-Witch as it's an exploration of the hypocrisy in how straight and gay romances are interpreted even by the queer community. I've engaged with a lot of female/male romances, especially when I was younger and thought I was straight, so it's quite surreal seeing similar stories being interpreted vastly differently based only on whether the main characters are queer or not.

There's been a lot of discussion about how explicit same-sex relationships in fiction should be. Many agree that the minimum for the characters to be unambiguously into each other is for them to kiss. That would be an ideal metric if the same applied to a man and a woman being into each other. It does not. For the vast majority of history, since people first started portraying characters in romantic relationships, explicit depictions of physical affection between those characters haven't been a thing. Depicting that sort of thing didn't become commonplace until the 20th century. For example, you would be hard-pressed to find any of the somewhat indecent positions Miorine and Suletta get into in a Jean Austin novel. Like, usually in a platonic hug, you lay your head on someone's shoulder or clavicle, and Miorine's burying her face in the upper part of Suletta's cleavage. How scandalous!

Of course, these views are centuries old, and the expectations of what should be included in a story about people getting together have changed drastically since then. Except in a lot of ways, it hasn't. Especially in manga, light novels, and anime, it can take real-life years for two characters to show affection through physician touch. Still, it’s expected that the characters are or will become attracted to one another and that they’ll end up together before the end of the story. Unless they’re the same gender, where not only is that not an expectation, but due to tropes such as Bury Your Gays, people are more likely to think one of them is going to die. That’s messed up. Being a main character in a romance or something adjacent shouldn’t be a death sentence for any character. Then there’s the fact that same-sex couples-to-be in fiction can be as forward as they want in their physical and verbal affections. Still, a straight couple-to-be that does nothing but bigger or just be the most prominent characters in their respective genders will still be perceived as less ambiguous. A man and a woman who get a bit flustered around each other are hopelessly in love. Yet, two girls sharing an intimate hug after a conversation about how neither wants their engagement to just be a transaction; that’s “totally platonic.”

Better yet, Hollywood has fine-tuned this to the point that the male and female leads only need to look at each other for about five seconds, and it’s enough to infer that they’re attracted to each other. This has become so ubiquitous that people have gotten confused when the leads are implied not to have gotten together despite having shown zero romantic intent. Having the character show romantic intent isn’t generally considered a requirement for them to end up together in a Hollywood film. No, seriously. All this is to say that literary and visual shorthand have always been and continue to be a major part of romances. Yet, the bar is much higher when it comes to the confirmation that two characters of the same gender are into each other. An author can use the exact same narrative tools that have become a staple of female/male romances/romantic subplots, and someone will tell you you're being led on for picking up on them.

The main reason for the high standards placed on same-sex couples is the desire for representation. If straight couples are allowed to or even expected to kiss at some point in the story, the same should be the case for same-sex couples. That said, kissing neither is nor should be the be-all and end-all of good representation. Yeah, straight couples get to kiss and have sexual relationships, but by all accounts, a significant amount of straight representation is absolutely abysmal. Lots of straight romances reek of sexism, outdated gender roles, and stereotyping, are toxic, and straight-up have a reputation for romanticizing abuse. If kissing or an “I love you” is the metric to which good representation is judged, two straight people who have zero chemistry or are downright abusive would be better representation than a same-sex couple whose relationship is built on mutual respect and support but who doesn't get to kiss or say “I love you” and that's ridiculous.

It’s also worth noting how people who tell others they’re crazy for seeing a queer story where according to them, there aren’t any, get characterized as needing to see something explicit to pick up that a story is or even just be interpreted as a queer romance. The thing is, most of these people aren’t dense; they’re willfully ignorant. They can pick up on the signs just as easily as they can in male/female romances; they’re choosing not to, even if it’s likely an unconscious decision. There seems to be a need among queer people to have depictions in media that even bigots can’t deny are queer. Why though? Representation is vital in helping to normalize the existence of various types of people, but for so many queer people, it just doesn’t seem to be enough. So what if some people wouldn’t get it unless the characters kiss? Those people will just start complaining about how they’re having queerness forced down their throats, and that’s their problem. There’s so much more to the queer experience than displays of physical affection, and this representation gatekeeping isn’t helping anyone. Normalizing same-sex couple kissing is important, but normalizing people of the same gender kissing is only going to normalize the kissing itself. If, for example, two people of the same gender get to kiss and then one of them gets killed off, that's the opposite of normalizing same-sex relationships.

Pulling from my own experiences, I've never been told that there was anything wrong with two people of the same gender kissing. Still, I saw same-sex relationships as inferior and believed being in one couldn't give me the life I wanted. I tried so hard to convince myself that I was straight and was only attracted to someone with a different gender presentation than me – because I was also an egg who told myself I was wrong for feeling uncomfortable for being referred to as my assigned gender at birth. Honestly, I thought that I would be happier if I didn’t even entertain the idea of getting together with someone with the same gender presentation as me. So, imagine how much it meant to me to see a show about two girls where one of them didn’t even think that getting engaged to another girl was an option, both of them having young men interested in them but asking each other to spend their life with them, and ending the show being married and being all the happier for being with the other. That's the kind of representation I've been looking for.

On a less serious note, I’d like to share an antidote from when I watched episode one for the first time. When Suletta sees someone floating around in space who appears to be in danger I didn’t initially consider that the person in question might be Miorine. The visuals planted the idea in my mind and the thing that confirmed it was the framing of the two inside Aerial’s cockpit. I couldn’t explain what I was picking up on, but to me, it was a dead giveaway.

[ponds-of-ink]

The Certified Pond Analysis of Scraptrap Voicelines

Because I haven’t talked about this rabbit’s voice lines as much as I should.

Buckle up. This is gonna get wordy.

-

So, going in the order of this video, we have:

“I always come back!”

The most quoted Afton line. And understandably so. This is the man at his most triumphant, even with his.. questionable suit-repair choices. The emphasis on “always” as well as the moderately louder volume really sells that confident air Springtrap continues to have in FNAF AR. Though, as we’ll soon see, this is not the only emotion he feels as Scraptrap.

(Also, before we continue: This gives me the first point on the “I can hear the smile in his voice” scoreboard. It’s a surprise tool that should help us later.)

”Bittersweet, but fitting”

…And by “later”, I apparently mean now.

There may be a smirk at the end, but it’s not a strong one. The overall line read is much more reserved here. Maybe even somber, if I’m inferring correctly. The choice of words is interesting here too. Whoever’s the owner of the Pizza Sim building, he may not be as fond of jumpscaring them as one would think…

”What a deceptive calling! I knew it was a lie the moment I heard it— Obviously, but it is intriguing nonetheless…”

Ah, yes. The big monologue post-Salvage. Couple of things I noticed here that aren’t debatable lore implications:

(1) Man’s rushing through that second half for some reason. Don’t know if that was an editing error, an intentional line read, or Scraptrap trying to.. reason with himself? Sound smarter than he thinks he is? I dunno, something about the pacing is off here.

(2) Oh, hey, first line with a “snake hiss”! This isn’t a consistent trait with his lines, but it’s a key feature that I use to differentiate Springtrap and Scraptrap during voice impressions.

(3) This man puts so much emphasis on words sometimes. So much so that I can not only hear the smile near the end, but I can also feel the eye roll during “deceptive”. And PJ Heywood never voice acted before FNAF apparently? H u h.

Anyway, moving on before I start implying that Scrap-Trap might’ve been lured in by a newspaper or something…

“Fascinating! What they have become…”

Another point to the “I can hear the smile” board. We’re on three points now; three and a half if you count “Bittersweet”.

This one I’ve already brought up before, but the abridged analysis is: This guy (unlike Glitch-Trap in that one Security Breach trailer) actually compliments his.. uh.. teammates? Workmates? ..Just realized that the relationship dynamic between the Salvage Gang doesn’t have an official term. Bummer.

That aside, it’s genuinely interesting that he doesn’t diss them at all. You think he would given his reputation, but no. He just has this twisted sense of “oh wow they’re so cool”.

…Come to think of it, has he directly dissed somebody in the games specifically? I’m not even sure if the “Deceptive Calling” monologue or the AR Springtrap lines count. AR Springtrap tends to boast about himself more than put the player down and Scraptrap was having an ‘I’m smarter than that lol” moment.

If I’m right, then I think I may have found a proper difference between a pretend Mimic Afton and the real one. Huh.

“How can I resist a promise such as this?”

Getting back to the main topic, we’ve got a return for the snake hiss and the emphasis on certain words. Also, add another point to “I can hear the smile”— Except it’s more of a smug grin than a bizarre, wide-eyed look of wonder.

Not sure what that promise is post-jumpscare, but I do know that this has a chance to play during the office sections. So the promise is either Henry’s lure or seeing his son Mike one last time. I dunno, dude, it’s all vague to me.

”That was easier than I thought it would be…”

AKA The line that makes me wonder “Dude, you good?”

No seriously. The quick halt in-between the second and third word. The sudden choke that happens at the end. Like his voice just properly broke for the first time in ages. The overall somberness of it all. There is literally no smile here and I’ve checked. There may even be tears starting to well up, but I obviously can’t be sure.

It’s even implied that he thought he’d had a tougher time fighting the owner! He actually assumed he wouldn’t win this easily!

Something about this feels.. unnerving. He’s not supposed to sound this upset. At least, not usually. So what, pray tell, is going on with this voice line?? Why was this the take Scott used??

“You may not recognize me at first, but I assure you: It’s still me”

Well, that’s one more point for the “I can hear the smile” board. Also, I believe this is confirmation of that ‘Springtrap switched suits after FNAF 3’ theory? That’s what it sounds like, at least?

But, hey, at least Scrap-Trap is canonically aware of the sudden shift in appearance. Let’s hope his potential FNAF World 2 version isn’t as nervous about it as I assume FNAF 6 him would be… If he had access to the internet, of course.

Also, for the one person who may or may not care about this: He’s using contractions here. I think it’s been established that he only uses these at certain times, but I can’t remember where exactly I read that analysis. Anyway, he’s unafraid about “slipping up” at this point.

One more thing…

Compared to AR Springtrap, Scraptrap is much more.. casual in tone, if that’s the best way to put it. Much more low energy, though his antics are anything but.

Like, yes, he’s still coming for you if you keep letting ads play on your computer. But maybe he’ll let you live for a few seconds longer just so you could turn the ad off? He’s not in a rush, as far as I can tell.

Maybe that’s another reason why my brain jumps to Scraptrap more than Springtrap. If he wasn’t tied to this “attacking the guard” business, he could probably chill for a second and give advice on paperwork. Wouldn’t last for long, of course, but at least one could potentially die knowing that you drank coffee with a much more business-savvy Spring Bonnie… Grungy though he looks. Springtrap, on the other hand, wouldn’t give you the time of day.

TL;DR:

PJ Heywood put more nuance into this guy than even I was expecting. Big round of applause, genuinely.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

TW: angst, uncomfortable situations, bdsm content, fire, blood

“What in God’s fucking name are you doing?” You ask yourself as you dig out the silky dress and golden bangles to wear tonight on this BDSM safari date. 

In theory, you know you absolutely cannot be Julian’s submissive. After a lot of googling, and a lot of video watching, the conclusion is that your smart, mindless mouth will have you bruised and crying more often than cumming, which sounds unpleasant (something you and your vagina can both agree on). It's not that the thought of his big hands swatting your rear as you lay over his broad lap is unappealing. In fact, you like that vision a lot. It’s the fact that he wants to do much more than spank you. Maybe that’s why he likes you, you realize, because you’re so bad at listening that he won’t need much of an excuse to fuck you up. 

Yeah, great thought to have before a date.

Your phone rings, and you’re not surprised anymore when you see Tom’s number pop up. He’s been calling almost twice a day now, that desperate ring cutting through your daily life so often that you have to keep the tone on silent most of the time. 

You suppose this is just his way of making sure you don’t forget about him while you’re taking back roads and long detours home to avoid his face. Ludlow scares you, but not in a way that Julian’s Mr. Hyde does. No, Tom’s fear factor is that you can’t go two seconds without thinking about him. 

The silky dress sits very nicely on your soft body, hugs and fans and dips in the right places. You can’t help but admire yourself in the mirror; hell, what’s a little bit of vanity every once in a while between you and your house plants? It’s not often that you feel good about yourself in the way the dress and the hairline bangles cinching your wrists make you feel. Eat your heart out, Julian.

Eat your heart out, Tom.

Julian looks good enough to eat, and you just might do exactly that before this night is over. You’re sure he can at least stay hard while you’re sucking the head of his beautiful cock (even without your arms tied behind your back), or you really hope so. I mean, you’ve never won any awards or anything, but the people pleaser in you has never had complaints, either. 

“You look wonderful.” He hands you a towering potted phalaenopsis orchid with a festoon of blooms so dark purple they’re almost black and leans down to kiss your warming cheek. You feel bad for the plastic wrapped flowers, so you ask him to come upstairs for a minute so you can settle them in their new home. 

“Wow, you love plants,” he muses, fingers playing at the waxy tip of your flourishing Queen of the Night cactus in the window.

“Well, I can’t have a cat or a lizard or snake or dog, so.” You give a tiny shrug, clipping off stems into the sink. 

“Snake?” He asks, leaning against the counter and watching you work. 

“Yeah, like a Ball Python or a Corn Snake.” 

“You just keep getting more fascinating, y/n.” You have your back turned, but can still feel his weighty stare, and it makes your skin crackle and pill, distracts you from the task at hand, causing the slippery scissors to veer and slice into your palm, glassy beads of blood forming at the base of the cut immediately.

“Shit,” you say, grabbing a towel from the counter and pressing it into the wound. 

Julian comes to your aid, a knight in shining armor ready to slay those dastardly scissors as he plucks them from you and tosses them onto the opposite counter. “Oh, darling.” He takes your sliced hand, uncovers it, blood immediately pooling into the basin of your palm and dribbling over the spillway of your wrist onto the kitchen tile. 

“Julian, it’s fine,” you tell him, trying to pull back half heartedly. 

“Wait.” The command of his tone makes your heart squeeze out a couple extra rivulets of blood for the floor. Black eyes travel up from your hand to your own, and you honestly have no idea why he is suddenly in this hellish mood again, but fuck, it really does do things for you that you can’t mention in chaste company 

“The floor is getting bloody.” You shift—more like squirm—under his shadow.

“What a waste. May I?” His eyes can’t decide what they want to look at—your crimson stained palm or equally if not more bloody face—and you forget that he asked a question as they hood and darken. 

He tugs you forward a tiny step, then kisses your fingertips, pokes his tongue out to lick at the sensitive skin there. “Y/n?” He murmurs against your pointer, inquisitive and, what? Hungry? Is that what you’re getting from him? 

“Huh?” 

“Can I taste you?” His lips tickle down your fingers, peck the top of your palm. 

Well, at least he’s not whipping your feet. “Yeah.” 

He presses the flat of his tongue against the fresh, oozing cut and licks a long stripe through the carnage. You have to grab onto him because your knees buckle and your vision swims black, but he’s got you anyway, arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up like you’re not made of heavy bone and fat and meat, protecting your pretty dress from that bloody floor. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, full Dr. Mercer mode again, lips still stained dark red, acting as if he didn’t just transform into a creature of the night before your very eyes. Your head and cunt throb in a strange, floaty numb tandem as you surface from the haze. 

You’re a nurse. You see blood all the time, get covered in it, have to scrub it out of your hair and from under your nails and use special laundry soap on your scrubs to avoid having to buy new ones every other day. That’s why you’re so confused as to why you almost passed out at the sight of Julian licking it off your palm in one of the most erotic displays you’ve ever witnessed in your measly life. 

Again? Asks your damp cunt. 

Hush, you admonish, ushering her back into her little broom closet chastity prison. 

“I’m fine.” You wonder why it took moving to LA to realize what a shit liar you are. And then, because you can’t really help asking with a giggle: “Are you a vampire?” 

He chuckles, fails in licking the settling red hue off his lips, and then guides you to sit on your sofa with the towel pressed against your palm. He gets you a cool rag from your bathroom, and presses it to your forehead. “Hold that there for me,” he instructs. “Where’s your first aid kit?” 

“Under the sink,” you thumb behind you. “But I’m fine, Julian.” 

He plucks a tiny kiss on your wrist. “You know, lying to me is bad for you.”

“Oh?” Your vagina asks, “and why is that, Doctor?” 

Julian is too easy. Sure, he prefers to have the upper hand, but as soon as you challenge him, he’s almost squirming with excitement. You wonder if you could make Tom squirm like that, see all the tough masculinity turn soft and peach pink with a well placed, “cuff me, Officer Ludlow.” 

“Because lying is naughty, and do you know what happens to naughty girls?” He leans in as if to kiss you. 

You lean right back, mouth open to taste your own thick residual copper on his sharp tongue, and sincerely hope the answer is they get fucked until they can’t walk. “Enlighten me?”

He boops your nose. “They don’t get kisses. Now, stay here.” 

You glare daggers at his cute butt as he makes to golden retrieve your first aid kit. 

“Thank you, Doctor.” Fuck me, Doctor. You bat your eyelashes at him while he cleans up your cut. It’s big, but surface level, warranting a tight wrap and no steri strips. 

You boldly brush the fallen, velvet hair from his eyes to see that toothy, knowing smile a little better.

“My pleasure.” 

“So…are you into that? Blood?” You’re not sure how else to word it or If there’s even an actual name for the act of eating blood for pleasure. Vladsexual? Bathory Kink? 

“That and other carnal taboos. I suppose I’m a bit of a roue.” 

“Okay, so what else?” 

“I don’t want to scare you.”  

“Too late, Julian.” You make it sound lighthearted, sugarcoat the truth, but if you’re going to get into this shouldn’t you know more about what he wants? 

“I won’t lie.” He looks at you, presses the finishing slice of tape over your gauze wrap. 

You retrieve your doctored hand to cradle on your ribs and maintain his gaze to the best of your ability. “I know.”

“I enjoy pain play. But that’s an umbrella term.” 

“Like hot wax? Caning?”

“Yes. You’ve done some research.” He seems like he’s thinking hard about how to word something, but there’s probably no eloquent way to put what he’s about to say. “Cutting. Piercing.” 

“What about infection?” 

“Aftercare, honey. You make sure it’s nice and clean. Do you want me to stop talking about this? You look paler again.” He rests his hand over yours. 

“It’s like you switch into someone else when these things.. come up? It scares me a little.”

He nods. “Part of the point would be to make you scared.” 

“That would help you?” 

It looks like he understands what you mean by that, and his face droops a little. Seems you’re both still thinking about that last disappointing date. “Yes.” 

“There are going to be people getting hurt at this club?” 

“Yes.” He cards a hand through his hair and it lays back perfectly where it once was. “There are other parts to it. Parts that are good. I would take responsibility away from you, make sure you eat nutritiously and often, give you a solid routine, pamper and spoil you.”

Why does that part sound worse than the getting cut and pierced bits? The thought of someone controlling your life, what you eat and do, it’s entirely unappealing. Maybe you’re a mess, but you like to be independent and free spirited. Tom was right about you wanting someone on your side, someone to take care of you and go to bat for you, but you’d still like to be on the field when it happens instead of tied up helplessly to the bench. 

You’re not saying anything, so he speaks up after a pause of tense silence. “We don’t have to go.”

“I know,” you say, “let’s leave before it gets too late.” 

***

You’ll be honest. You expected people on leashes scantily covered in leather, big medieval tower guards in hooded black cloaks, heavy metal equipment bolted to the walls and floor, maybe a stage with grandstand seats like in a fucked up little leather circus. 

However, the doors of the club are fairly normal, if not painted blood red. Dark, sultry, heavy bass music welcomes you as you walk inside. Most of the interior is classy, but unexpectedly underwhelming. The inside is carved marble, high ceilinged, low lit, tinged with dark red and purple lights. 

It reads like a vampy career fair. 

Banquet hall open floor, a pop up bar in the corner, booths and alcoves swollen with spectators dressed in bespoke club wear from Versace, Valentino, and Chanel. Some people choose to hide their identities with finely crafted leather masks. Some people chose to flaunt their faces openly, and you’re pretty sure you recognize at least one B level rockstar and maybe an actor from a distance.

The first thing you see as you go further inside is a man trussed in intricate rope, hanging from the ceiling. Not too bad. Actually, fairly tame, all of this. Well, more tame than the internet showed you. Mostly heavy bondage, maybe a nipple clamp thrown in here and there. Julian leads you to a carpeted venue with floor cushion seating in the far left corner and goes to retrieve some liquid courage. 

He hands you a wine glass of rosy, sweet liquor and you gulp it down immediately. 

“Slow down,” he says, squeezing your hand in reassurance. 

Instead of calming you, his bossy words incite annoyance. You’re a grown ass woman who needs alcohol to deal with something he wants you to attend, and you’ll be damned if you’re not going to drink as much numbing potion as you like. 

“I could actually use another one,” you tell him, standing and stretching. “Want some?” You eye his nursed, sipped from glass. 

He surprises you by handing you his credit card instead of arguing.  “No, thank you. Get as much as you like.” 

“Julian, I am not taking your card-“

You’ll never stop being surprised at how fast he can be. He’s so slow, thoughtful, calculated in his work that these sudden, long limbed movements startle you, especially when they bring him right against your body. 

He tucks his Chase back into your extended palm, frames your feet, and wraps a covering hand around your collar. “You are taking it.” 

The double entendre is not lost on you, and it brings that too often ache back into your toes and fingers and clit and every tip of your body, really. 

You want so horribly for his beautiful, cervix kissing cock to be inside you instead of swelling up against your tummy. And, you’ve never been a big fan of PDA, but, when in Venice…

You slip your hand between his hard and your soft, and palm that pretty trapped appendage, using your body to press and grind and get a better understanding of how deliciously he would fill you up.

Your power trip of the night is Julian groaning aloud, then halting this indecency and glaring down at you with a monstrous sneer. Before he can speak, you pipe up, soft and feminine, voice tinted with subtle hedonism. “Yes, Doctor.” 

You grab a mixed glass of vodka cranberry and take two extra shots courtesy of doctor money. Liquid courage. It's gonna be alright. Tell yourself that all you want, though, you still don’t feel completely safe here. Which is ridiculous because it’s an adult space with consenting people. Maybe it’s not your physical health you’re worried about so much, but rather your fragile psyche. 

When you get back with another shot and your mixed drink, the show has already started. You nestle down into the cushion beside Julian, and he scoots closer to press shoulders in what you think is an attempt at reassurance until he starts talking in your ear about the scene unfolding before you. 

“She’s bound to the chair with wool.”

“Wool? Why?”

“Fire resistant.”

Your heart slams faster against your ribcage, hands turn cool and clammy. 

“They have a wool blanket ready in case things go south.”

“Are they going to burn her?”

“Not seriously.”

What in the fuck is that supposed to mean? A burn is a burn, right? Whether first or second or third, it can still have detrimental effects on a person’s health. He’s a damn doctor, shouldn’t his years of medical training raise a hand to why this is potentially life threatening?

Despite the protest of your nervous system, you can’t look away. The man in the scene rubs something on her naked skin, in the middle of her chest, almost down to the hairless mound of her sex. “Isopropyl alcohol,” Julian says. He places his warm hand in the middle of your back like he’s trying to manually start your lungs back up. “Breathe.”

You do, let out a big whoosh of air and then take another in. The man lights a torch. 

“Fire torch,” Julian says, voice leagues deeper. His hand travels down, nuzzles into the small of your back and makes you let out a little noise that you’re grateful he can’t hear over the music and bustle of the club.

He presses the flame to her sternum, and she hisses, flinching away from the heat, from the flint that lingers on her skin. He extinguishes that same mini bonfire with his palm almost instantly, then creates more. The orange flame reflects on the tears of her cheeks, illuminates the fear in her blown pupils. 

Julian rubs little circles into your back, hips, grins when he hears you groan as his thumb slips up the hem of his dress. 

It goes on, and Julian has stopped explaining. Stopped moving those skilled fingers.  You’re confused, so you look over at him, and realize that you have not seen monstrous from this man yet—not until now. His handsome features are pulled in such an expression of raw, primal hunger, all for that woman’s pain.

You’ve seen that look on a man’s face before. It did not end well for you.

It’s that look on his face that gets you up on your feet, and you say in a voice you yourself hardly recognize, “I have to use the restroom.”

Julian looks disappointed, but he nods. When you’re confident that he’s not going to leap up and follow you, you make your way in said direction on shaking legs. However, once you round the corner out of sight, you are making a B-line for the exit, moving so quickly you almost stumble over your own feet, the desperate animal running through the woods, away from the hungry wolf. 

[mumms-the-word]

Mini Veilguard update!! Under the cut as per usual because there are early game spoilers here (I have thoughts!)

Explored most of Treviso and Minrathous, as much as I can before going to get Davrin anyway. Treviso is gorgeous and Minrathous is interesting (idk what I expected out of Minrathous but we’re also only seeing Dock Town so…we’re not really seeing much of the actual magisterium sector). I know there’s a big choice coming up because I got spoiled by people who don’t tag their spoilers (still mad about it) and it’s making me think

I read an excellent post about how DATV has essentially sanitized a lot of the lore to make the game palatable and on the whole I do agree. I feel like I’m getting LaCroix spritzes of lore flavor rather than bold and confident lore flavor. Don’t get me wrong, there is plenty of lore, plenty of callbacks to all three of the earlier games! It’s just…subtle? Or hidden in codexes

I think the thing that strikes me most is that for all the talk of slavery in Minrathous we don’t really see slavery at all. At least, I haven’t, this far in the game. Where are the magisters beating their slaves? Where are the merchants buying slaves because it’s Just How Things are Done? Obviously if slaves live in estates with their masters, then that explains why we don’t see a lot of them in Dock Town. But where are the conversations between Dock Town citizens where people are facing difficult choices to potentially sell themselves into slavery to feed their families? Both Dorian and Krem talk about these as realities in Minrathous and other cities in Tevinter.

As for Treviso, I think it’s beautiful and the fact that the Antaam has broken from the Qun and dissolved into war bands fascinates me. I think that’s cool! But the Crows baffle me. They’re too nice. It’s very odd. On the one hand, I LOVE Teia and Viago. On the other hand, they and Lucanis should be the exception, I think, for being Crows interested in freedom fighting and protecting Treviso. And maybe other Crow cells not in Treviso are still cutthroat brutal tormentors who buy children to train as assassins, as Zevran tells us, but we sure don’t get to see it in the game.

I can shrug and set most of it aside, lose myself in the beauty of the game and the charm of the companions (who I do like, a couple of weird conversations aside). But apparently I have to choose whether to save Treviso or Minrathous soon. I guess from the Blight? I don’t know details because I have tried my hardest to avoid spoilers lol so if you’re reading this DON’T tell me!

Buuuut

I don’t know. Right now that choice hinges on who I will disappoint (Neve or Lucanis) and who among the NPCs I may be willing to sacrifice (Hal the fishmaker, certain faction members, perhaps). I suspect, given how nice the game is being, that I won’t lose access to Teia, Viago, The Viper, Tarquin, Mae, or Dorian. I mean, I doubt I’ll see Dorian again but he’s a fandom darling. I’ll be very surprised if he dies. But I digress. The point is, I know it will feel like a sacrifice…just a smaller one than it could be.

Because the choice could be so much harder, so much more complex, if it was a choice between two obviously corrupt cities. Do I sacrifice Minrathous and call it a lost cause because slavery is so rife there, the magisters are corrupt, the Templars aid the magisters and not the people, and they keep sacrificing people for blood magic? Is full on destruction the only thing that will get the city to reset and recover in productive ways? Or do I sacrifice Treviso, which houses a bloodthirsty guild of assassins who buy and raise and train children to be killers, who is now under siege by reckless Antaam, who cannot be defeated by anything short of a major catastrophe? What if both cities were revealed to be more gritty and cruel than we actually got to see in the game? How do I choose which to save and which to allow destruction to come in?

Some of these elements are still present. But they’re buffed down. Maybe the game will surprise me! But for now I feel like I’m choosing between saving my favorite NPCs or my favorite aesthetic, rather than facing a complex choice over which city to save, knowing both the good and the bad and everything in between.

We shall see! I am off to the Anderfels (I think) to meet a couple of wardens and hopefully see Davrin soon. So I will update again soon!

Oh, PS: COMPLETELY baffled by the fact that Varric recognizes the lyrium dagger as being the red lyrium idol. Like, sure, fine, those two things are related, and its true that’s why Solas wanted the red lyrium idol (just see Tevinter Nights and the comics)

But bro they look nothing like each other!!

What do you meeeaaaaannnnn

“it has the same ring at the top” okay and?? One is blue and shiny and the other has twisted corpse figures and is red and crumbling and was also turned into a giant ass greatsword back in the day??

Super weird reveal, not a fan, but it was more funny than annoying so there’s that.

Anyway we press onwards lol

[lover-of-mine]

I truly feel like the fandom post 7x04 could be psychologically studied. Like I’ve never seen anything like it. Like it could’ve been a normal “obvious plot device couple no ones really invested in before the will they won’t they couple get together” time like in The Rookie when Tim and Lucy were dating different people before they got together. But because they’re both mlm ships everything typical went out the window. It’s like all the typical fandom stuff is flipped. Typically it’s fans of the fanon ship that are begging for crumbs and making up headcanons desperate to create depth and content that the show won’t give them. Somehow we’ve found ourselves in a spot where the canon ship is being treated like a fanon ship BY THE SHOW and the fans of said canon ship are livid because they feel entitled to more. And because the fanon ship is getting treated like the canon ship by the show fans of said ship are getting targeted more than I think I’ve ever seen (most canon ship fans just ignore the fanon shippers or roll their eyes at them but not much else from my experience)

It's like another anon told me the other day, people expect us to give Tommy a bonus just because he's a man when the show isn't giving us anything. It is very clear that this is just a device to make Buck bisexual, to get us to the endgame that is buddie, yk? They have been setting up buddie for over 6 seasons now, and now that Buck is queer there is no reason for them not to go there but since it since Tommy is a man, they expect the relationship between to go differently when the show isn't giving them anything. It is just a narrative device to get Buck from from point A to point B. And people kind of lost their minds about it. I think even the show itself didn't realize that people would like Tommy, because no one ever liked anyone they paired Buck or Eddie with and now they ended up with this situation. They clearly do not want to develop Tommy in any way and since he is just there, everyone that ships that wants the relationship to be more just because they build their relationship to be more in their heads. 5he show didn't really give them anything beyond the fact that he's a man. But in the end of the day they do have the defense of saying my ship is canon because as of right now, Eddie is not queer and Buck is dating Tommy. So I don't understand why they are this aggressive about the situation (I mean, I do, they got played by Lou and are fuming because they invested on something expecting it to be developed just for it to just be there). Because like the fanin couple has always been a thing, every show, every piece of media has that one fanon couple that people are obsessed with. And, yes there's a lot of talk about buddie right now because buddie is actually possible, and like it or not it's the ship that has 6 seasons of buildup. They don't seem to understand that the ship they created in their heads with the help of paid headcanons isn't what exists on the show. I would seriously ready a psychological experiment in fandom based on the past 6 months, because it is some fascinating shit. Just because he's a man, suddenly nothing else mattered. Is crazy.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Weird question but do you think its possible to become a zookeeper without a degree? I'm 29 and don't have the time, energy, or money to go back to college and fear I've missed my chance at my dream career. I'm not sure how to get experience or what I could possibly do to help my resume.

It’s definitely possible! Not super common, but possible - and much more so than it would have been a couple of years ago.

When I was in college (early 2010s) and wanting to enter the field, there was a pretty clear pipeline: four year degree, unpaid summer internships, then apply for a part-time or temp position somewhere, and volunteer somewhere until you get a first job. This is still somewhat of the way it’s done at bigger AZA facilities.

But, interestingly enough, things are changing. There’s two things really driving that. The first is the massive push for increased DEAI efforts in the zoo industry. After the big commitments AZA and many individual zoos made during the BLM protests in 2020, one of the big conversations that started was how inequitable zoo hiring and especially internship programs are. Requiring four years degrees and large amounts of unpaid labor before getting a job - and paying poverty wages once someone gets that job - biases success entering and staying in the zoo field towards people with generational wealth. I honestly didn’t think the advocacy that stemmed from those discussions would do much, and I’ve been very pleasantly surprised to see that I was wrong! There’s a been a lot of real movement towards creating paid internships and making hiring requirements more equitable. It isn’t happening everywhere, but I know it’s becoming more and more common (and last year there was a ton of presentations about this on the AZA annual meeting schedule, which is a huge deal). The other thing that’s happening is less formal, but equally fascinating. I’ve been present for a lot of discussions about how there’s a disconnect between what zoos are hiring for (formal education, complex resumes) and what skills the job actually requires. It seems like it’s easier to train people to work with animals and learn their behavior than it is to teach people practical skills like how to do manual labor without hurting themselves and operate heavy machinery. I’ve seen some discussions of how some of their most successful new staff have come from adjacent industries or even just other “blue-collar” jobs that involve similar types of work, regardless of what their academic background is. Which is great! Because that adds to equity and diversity of staff across the industry.

To start off the rest of my answer, there has to be a disclaimer that I’m not in hiring, so I can’t say for sure what will get you a job (and while I’ve volunteered and interned, I have never been formally hired as staff by a zoological facility). So my advice for the rest of this comes from watching and listening to a whole ton of industry folk for the past decade or so, and from what I’ve seen my friends do that’s been successful to get jobs in the field.

In terms of experience, the best thing you can do - and I hate to say this, because it does require a level of privilege to be able to do - is volunteer somewhere. It doesn’t have to be at a zoo. Anything that will give you some animal experience for a resume and references will be valuable: shelters, vet offices, riding barns, farms, even 4H. You need to be able to demonstrate that you’ve worked around a variety of species (even if they’re all domestic) and have people who can speak to the fact that you’re diligent, attentive to detail, and have common sense about things like safety protocols. If you can’t volunteer, try to find a job in any of these areas with similar skills. Or where you can learn them! Say you can’t get an animal care job, but you’re good at phones and people - you could get a desk job at an animal shelter, and help out with cleaning and animal enrichment when possible. Boom! Experience!

It’s also important to learn how to shape your current job experience to an application, which is something I can talk more about and maybe pull in advice from folk actually in hiring for. There’s a ton that can be applicable to animal jobs. Office work? You can probably speak to experience with proprietary software systems and record-keeping (which is a bigger deal than you’d think). Construction / landscaping / similar physical labor jobs? You know how to work hard in a range of weather conditions, keep a project on spec, have experience with complex project planning, and probably know a thing or two about basic safety stuff (don’t store heavy things above your head, lift with your legs, etc). You’re basically looking to communicate “I haven’t worked in this field, but here’s all the skills I have that will translate to this job.”

Realistically, if you’re coming in without a degree or a ton of animal experience, you’re much more likely to be able to get a job at smaller, non-AZA facilities to start (they might not even be zoos - there’s sanctuaries and petting zoos and all sorts of other professional animal care gigs). And this is fine and good! There’s lots of good ones out there. You can always use experience gained there to move up in the field, if it’s your dream to work at an AZA facility specifically. And a lot of people do that - you’ll hear some places talk about how they know they’re training zoos, because their staff get a foot in the door and then consistently leave for other facilities after a couple years. But there’s also a lot of reasons to stay with some of the smaller facilities. They’re often in areas with cheaper cost of living, and so a zookeeping salary will go farther. I’ve also seen that a lot of the smaller facilities - ones where like, staff know and interact with the zoo director frequently - tend to take better care of their staff. They may not be able to increase salary, but I’ve seen some of those facilities go the extra mile for their people in other ways when it’s possible. It’s a very different experience than being a small cog in the giant machines that are many AZA zoos. It’s the sort of thing you have to vet carefully, but when you find a small facility that really invests in it’s people, it can be very worthwhile.

You also have to think about the fact that you don’t have to start in zookeeping to get an animal care job! I’ve seen a lot of people start in education or in summer camp staff, and then use the relationship with the facility and their track record in those jobs to transition into animal care. Especially education, if you’ve got the skill-set, because you’re often working with ambassador animals or in collaboration with the teams that care for them. I’ve seen some people start in facilities or ground crew, too, but I think that’s less common. Getting your foot in the door somehow and building relationships is one of the biggest parts of getting a job in the field if you’re not following the traditional pipeline.

If you’re near enough to a smaller facility that you can visit regularly, do. Learn as much as you can about the zoo and what they do and what they’re involved in, to show that you’re interested and invested, and then go talk to someone there. Tell them exactly what you told me: this is a dream, and you’re really interested in their facility specifically, and you’re wondering what you should do to build a resume to apply for a job there. At worst, you’ll get some advice. At best, they might take a chance on you. I’ve heard of it happening. (The hardest part of this is, honestly, figuring out who to talk to - it’s not the sort of thing where you can just ask a keeper while they’re cleaning. But you can find opportunities, and then ask if there’s someone in management who might have time to answer a couple questions.)

So in short: yes. It’ll take some work and time, and probably some free labor, but it’s doable. More so now than any other time recently. Good luck!

[katealpha]

Hot Take

I ship Raya and Sisu over Raya and Namaari. Here’s why!

• The biggest reason. Sisu has an adorable, scrimblo human form that she can change into at will. Raya’s got the best of both worlds.

•Sisu and Raya would be around each other much more often, depending on what you’d have Sisu doing after the events of the movie. In my headcanon, Sisu went right to Heart after helping relieve Kumandra, and effectively became Raya’s roommate. Namaari on the other hand is a princess of another land and having her own responsibilities, may not have as much time for Raya.

• Sisu has nowhere near as much negative baggage as Namaari. Namaari is partially the reason why the Druun returned to Kumandra, and half of the reason why they were nearly screwed forever, with six years in between these two events of the two hating one another’s guts. Personally I’m not too sure what kind of romantic relationship could spawn out of those events. In Sisu’s case, Raya spent a quarter of her life trying to find her, and all her life fascinated and revering her. When she’s woken up, Sisu isn’t exactly what Raya had in mind, but she’s still the first positive social interaction Raya’s had in literal years.

• Sisu’s presence in her life made Raya a better person. The other biggest reason for me is that Sisu simply completes Raya in a way I feel like Namaari doesn’t. In the movie Raya distrusts everyone around her to an almost absurd degree. While her worry is understandable, Sisu is able to get Raya to lighten up and give people a chance after she had previously stated that she’d completely lost her hope in humanity. Sisu’s positive influence eventually got Raya to find hope that her father’s dream could become a reality, and she ended up adopting Sisu’s more forgiving attitude, and let go of the hatred she had for Namaari and her people.

•Losing Sisu sent Raya into a frenzy. While losing her father seemed to have traumatized her deeply, losing Sisu to that very preventable accident Namaari caused made Raya nearly kill for revenge. I think that says something about how deeply she felt about Sisu despite only knowing her for a few days at most.

•Her own death and the consequences of being revived can serve as something Raya and Sisu can overcome as a couple. Some people were bothered by how Sisu dying and coming back didn’t seem to have any consequences. I agree with this sentiment, which is why in my headcanon, Sisu is not only severely traumatized by the event, but has a chronic pain in her heart where the arrow hit her. This in my headcanon is the catalyst for Raya and Sisu forming a much closer bond. Trauma is something Raya knows all too well, and her having to help Sisu overcome it like the dragon once did with her, I feel can not just be very wholesome, but lead to bigger things.

•I just think Raya getting together with the titular “Last Dragon” is just a neat idea. Heroes falling in love with the things they’re sent to find on their quest is one of those tropes I really like, especially when that love is reciprocated, and Sisu is a character that very much represents the love that Raya loses and gains back over the course of the movie.

So that’s that. Personally I’d love to see more Raya X Sisu arts, as well as an official ship name like Rayaari. I don’t have anything against Rayaari, on that note. Raya getting with Sisu is just my own preference, and there are plenty of reasons why Raya and Namaari can work.

So what shall we call this ship? Risu? Saya? Raysu? Siya? Definitely let me know what you think of this.