#I love when people ask me about Sisterhood

[franstastic-ideas]

Later down the line, but at some point right? "ChampionLegacyShipping" I briefly considered DandelionShipping but it was already on the A to Z Pokemon Shipping Database. Because well, LeafGreen and Leon's name comes from Dandelion. Hence why his japanese name is Dande. I tried using something with folklore/fairytales, lion and plant connections, found nothing XD Oh, but they both come from quiet, peaceful towns. But SleepyTownShipping lacks spice. HumbleBeginningsShipping??? Lmao I'm starting to feel stupid. GreenLionShipping? Tell me about Sisterhood 👀

I may be biased due to my deep love of flowers, but Dandelionshipping is my favorite from these suggestions.

In the language of flowers, dandelions represent resilience, growth, and making wishes come true, something I feel is in line with the themes of the series as a whole.

But the name has apparently already been taken, so back to the thinking board, I suppose.

(INCOMING UNSKIPPABLE CUTSCENE)

Sisterhood is an alternate universe starring the female protagonists with a different timeline compared to canon. Several characters' ages have been altered, and each protagonist begins her journey at eighteen or older.

This universe also blends aspects from all versions of the core series, so the events of XY and RSE/ORAS in Sisterhood are as though Pokémon Z and Delta Emerald existed.

Or that's the objective. The same can also be said for the events of USUM, they're implemented as something akin to a DLC that takes place in SM's post postgame.

So I'd say the universe is mostly canon compliant when it comes to the plots of the games, but there's a great deal of character expansion that happens here, and sometimes that means tweaking a few things for the sake of the story I'm trying to tell.

For example, Volo didn't purposefully seek out Giratina in Sisterhood. He found Giratina weak and injured in Turnback Cave, and although logic, common sense, and basic self-preservation instincts told him otherwise, he decided to help.

It wouldn't be an alternate universe if there weren't alterations in the universe, after all.

But one of the things I take most pride in about Sisterhood is that each protagonist has her own personality.

There's the silent but vibrant Leaf, the unceasingly compassionate and gentle Kotone, the hot-blooded and brawny Touko, the mysterious and cold Akari...

So you may understand now why a character page is on my list of things to write. Each girl even has her own title!

One last detail is that, although every story in Sisterhood is written with the intention of being possible to be read as a standalone, all of them are actually connected, much like the games themselves. There are several references to one another in the text, but it's not at all necessary to read everything.

[blueskittlesart]

deeply refreshing to see someone critical of Swift who also like, genuinely likes her. Like i'm neutral to positive on her, but the online discourse has been absolutely rancid. flipping between "Taylor Swift has never done anything wrong ever and she's a fucking genius" and "Taylor Swift is the worst lyricist of all time and also a bad person" is exhausting, so thank you for like. nuance or something lmao

not to make it serious for a sec but i genuinely think that being able to like things that are bad is really important. like I think that it's an important skill to be able to look at something and see what you personally enjoy about it and then take a step back and acknowledge that objectively it's flawed. and to also be able to acknowledge that liking something isn't necessarily an identity or a moral stance. and i think that fandom space in general could really benefit from more people taking the time to learn how to do that. it's okay to like things that are bad

[n3xii]

What Are People's First Impression of You?

this post is aimed at giving you a insight at what other people's first impression of you are. To choose your pile, allow yourself to be drawn to the perfume that feels most prominent to you.

I am selling personal readings at the moment, I offer customized questions, aura readings and a few other interesting topics! to book a reading, look here

PERFUME ONE

other peoples impression of you: nine of pentacles, three of wands, three of cups

First of all, the nine of pentacles corresponds to venus in Taurus. This is the card of self sufficiency, pampering and rewarding yourself for hardwork. this card also signifies a person who has a keen sense of fashion. This tells me that people's first impression of you is that youre very well dressed, attractive and polished. you give poeple the impression that you care about how you look but not because you want to impress others, but because you enjoy pampering yourself and feeling beautiful. People get the sense that you are very self sufficent, that you work hard for your own success and that you're willing to treat yourself to a new bag, some new wardrobe or some new makeup when you have achieved something. The three of wands expands on this by saying that you give the impression that you are someone who has a vision for their future, you give people the sense that you are on a mission and that you are out to achieve something. the three of wands is someone who has a clear path ahead of them, they're taking action and setting their own goals into action. I feel like people get the impression that you're very "self made" that you havent had to rely on anyones help or support to set your own goals into action. you're someone who is very motivated and willing to take the lead even if there is no one there to validate your actions. The three of cups tells me that people get the impression that you are very social and lively, perhaps you give people the sense that you have lots of friends and that you like to go out alot. The three of cups is a lovely card, and honestly im hearing "a girls girl" which tells me that you give people the impression of sisterhood and safety.

PERFUME TWO

cards: three of swords reversed, two of swords, and ace of cups

the three of swords reversed tells me that peoples first impression of you is that you have healed and recovered from something truamtic and emotionally overwhelming. the three of swords reversed is a card of healing and rebuilding yourself, I feel like people get the sense that you are trying to repair yourself at the moment and that you are recovering from a loss or extreme diaspointment. The two of swords tells me that people may receive this impression that you're at a cross roads, that you're trying to make a decision from a place of trusting yourself and not relying on other people's input, people get the sense that you're trying to internally find clairty about your situation in life at the moment. Additionally, the ace of cups is a beautiful card to get about other people's first impressions of you. This is of a blessing or a miracle, I feel like some people get the impression that you have come into their lifes at the right time and at the perfect moment, that you bring people a renewed sense of hope. I feel like people get the sense that you're someone who brings a fresh, loving and bright energy into peoples lifes.

PERFUME THREE

cards: three of pentacles, five of cups, and page of cups

Ok, the three of pentacles is a card of skills, teamwork and communication. I feel like you're the type of person eveyrone wants to have on their team, a person other people look forward to working with because you bring alot of knowledge to the table, additionally, you bring a dynamic and flexible attitude that makes you very easy to talk to and ask questions to. however the five of cups makes me think that people get the impression that you're very self depreciating, I think other people see how valuable and helpful you are but you only see what makes you imperfect. I dont know why but I just strongly get the impression that people feel that you are way too hard on yourself. The page of cups here tells me that people perhaps also get the impression that you're younger than you are, or that you are extremely open minded. Your bring a "childlike" perspectives to certain things, and I feel like you make people laugh with how you react or interact with others.

[fallstaticexit]

The Art of Being Seen - a Nancy Landgraab story

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔗𝔴𝔬- 𝔘𝔫𝔦

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

Part II - Uni -After a traumatic outing that tears her away from her first love, 19-year-old Nancy Landgraab turns to her faith and her relationship with Geoffrey as a way to cope with her longing for Vanessa. Just as she starts to put up her walls, she meets five women, each teaching her valuable lessons about herself and about life.

Transcript under the cut

Transcript:

Nancy: Heavenly Father, help me to find peace in Your love and wisdom.

Nancy: Grant me the courage to resist temptation and to stay true to my faith. Help me understand Your will for my life and to trust in your plan. Help me...

Nancy Narrates: [For two years, I prayed until my voice grew weak]

Nancy Narrates: [Until my knees bruised from kneeling]

Nancy Narrates: [Until I forgot the color of her eyes]

Nancy: Ok, we can go now.

Geoffrey: How do you feel?

Nancy: Like I’m going to throw up. I hate crowds.

Geoffrey: You’re going to do great, Nancy.

Nancy: Are you a bettin’ man?

Geoffrey: I am now.

Nancy Narrates: [The tenderness I’ve developed for Geoffrey over the years surprised me]

Nancy Narrates: [When he returned from holiday break, I was suffering from a heartbreak I thought would kill me. All he could do was hold me as I mourned]

Nancy Narrates: [In the end, he was all that I had]

Nancy Narrates: [Loving him was the least I could do]

Becca: Hello! Have you accepted Jesus Christ into your heart? No? Think about joining our bible study group! There’s free pizza every Thursday!

Darling: I don’t know shit about this club if I’m being real with you. Coach is making me do it. Something about building your resume, don’t ask me. You joining or what?

Siobhan: A Landgraab on campus? Now that’s a treat.

Becca: [squeals] I know you! I can’t believe it’s really you!

Nancy: I’m sorry? Do I know you?

Becca: I’m Becca! Becca Clarke? I won the Landgraab Foundation Scholarship! You’re the reason I’m even here!! I am freaking out right now! My Nana will not believe this!! [gasps] Would you be interested in joining my bible study group? Of course you would! Is this your boyfriend? Sooo handsome!

Becca: Can I just say, that the Foundation is a true blessing from God. The opportunities you give to people like me is- [sniffles] sorry, I’m getting emotional.

[muffled voices]

Nancy: I- I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I thought you were-

Morgan: It’s cool, I get mistaken for all the other freaky witchy chicks that go here. [smirks] That’s a joke, by the way. I’m the only one. I’m Morgan Fyres. Interested in tarot card reading?

Nancy: Fyres? Is your father the owner of the hotel chains? Dominic Fyres?

Morgan: STEP father, actually.

Siobhan: If you’re looking for real Fyres royalty, then look no further. Siobhan. No need to introduce yourself; I know exactly who you are, Nancy Landgraab.

Morgan: [grumbles] Annnnd cue the cameras.

Siobhan: I’m the president of Theta Omega Pi, the same sorority Queenie Landgraab pledged to. She proudly hangs in our hall of fame, so it would be a privilege to welcome a true legacy into our sisterhood.

Becca: Hey! I found her first!

Morgan: How about you two back off? You’re bringing bad vibes to my stand.

Siobhan: Relax, creature of the night. I was going to discuss Nancy’s future with Theta.

Morgan: Maybe she wants to start tarot reading? This isn’t some business opp, fake Barbie wannabe.

Becca: T-t-tarot!? The devil’s board game!? The Landgraabs are Christians! She wants nothing to do with that, right, Nancy?

Siobhan: [sighs] Find your own Landgraab, Virgin Mary. Grown-ups are talking.

[distant bickering]

Darling: The fuck is a Landgraab?

[lure-of-writing]

Never been good enough

Authors note: I haven't written in forever so please forgive me if this isn't the best but I would love to hear what you think!

Summary: You would never be good enough for Ariel

Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: Arguing, curse words, mentions of death, Elain slander, Tamlin makes an appearance

Part two: Left in regret

Part three: Why can't We?

There was always something so enticing about Azriel that you could never put your finger on. To simply put it he was fascinating. Being a part of the inner circle for as long as you have meant that you put your feelings for him aside, did what you thought was best for the group. Not only that but Azriel never gave you any signs that he was interested in you and there was no way you would let him know about your feelings. What if you guys dated and it didn't work out? Or worse, what if you told him and he didn’t feel the same way? These types of thoughts made a home in your head and they made it a point to consistently remind you that Azriel would only ever be a friend. But hey, better a friend then nothing at all, Right?

That was until Rhysand met Feyre and in turn met Nesta and Elain. This is where your downfall began. You were truly happy for your high lord and new high lady but could have done without her sisters. Nesta was always ready to pick a fight and tear you down with her words as if she were some wild animal backed into a corner that would bite if you tried to pet it. The comparison wasn’t far off, she basically was a wild animal. Elain on the other hand was, well, contemptible at best. From what you knew Elain was basically loved by all in the inner circle but you. There was just something about her that irked you to your core. In a world that praised the strong and belittled the weak, her innocence bothered you. Why did Feyre have to do everything for her sisters, especially the middle one? As an older sister yourself you would have made any sacrifice necessary to protect your little sister. In fact you did. Maybe that's why you resented the middle sister. 

Before the new additions were made to your family life was perfect, before under the mountain of course, the group was a perfectly balanced number and each person had their person. Rys with Armen, Mor and Cassian, you and Azriel. The group would spend long days giving each other a run for their money with stupid bets and at night you would have an even longer night getting drunk at ritas, but ever since Ryhsand met Feyre things changed almost instantly. It was like the people you once knew completely changed over night. You still knew who they were to their core but you didn’t recognize who they had become. 

Cassian bowed to an unwavering, impolite, ungrateful human turned fae also known as Nesta, he was willing to die for someone who would never give the time of day to even acknowledge that he existed. Amren found company in her ruthlessness, found friendship and understanding in her unbothered face. 

Mor found sisterhood among the complexities of healing with Feyre, through the grief and joy and thousands of other emotions one feels when finding themselves after trauma.

Ryhsand found his mate, the one he never thought he would meet. The one he was willing to die for as long as that meant she was safe.  

Azriel saw the need to protect someone as delicate as Elain. So he did. 

And you, you found a changed group of people before your very own eyes. 

“Azriel can I please hold the fancy special dagger?” the Shadowsinger simply stares at you from the other side of the ring. Today had been training day for everyone excluding Amren, if you asked her she would say it didn’t pertain to her, and while the boys took turns sparring you were teaching Mor a new fighting technique you learned recently. “No” the short answer was no surprise to you at all. “Why not? I even said please and I never say please” the inner circle could not wait to witness this scene unfold for this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence but considering that you were Azriels favorite amongst the group even if he refused to say it, they thought that maybe one day you would wear him down enough to the point where he lets you hold the truth teller. “y/n I have never let anyone hold that dagger and you will not be the first. You are more than capable of handling yourself without my blade.” “Exactly I am more than capable of handling a dagger Azriel. One day I will get the truth teller in my hands just you wait.” he simply raised his shoulders in a shrugging manner as if to say “yeah I’m not concerned”

To say you were surprised that Azriel gave Elain the truth teller would be an understatement but honestly you should of seen it coming. Not even a few days before he was rushing into the hybern camp to save Elain without any second thought. There was never a time in the five hundred years where Azriel threw himself into a situation like that where he didn’t at least take some time to plan everything out. As a spy yourself you knew that at least having a fraction of a plan could save your life but it appeared Arizel was willing to die to save her. Feyre's sister be damned. So to watch from afar as he handed over his dagger to inexperienced hands was truly a gut wrenching experience. How could your closest friend of literally hundreds of years spend his potentially last moments with someone who was basically a stranger instead of a true friend? It was a revealing moment, it either showed how kind he was to try and help a defenseless person have a means to defend themselves if the time came where it was needed or he truly had changed and no longer cared for you. You would have your answer sooner than you had hoped. 

For as long as you have existed you were trained as a spy for the cover up of an  assassin. It made you as deadly as anyone else in the inner circle, maybe even deadlier since no one ever saw their death by your hands coming. So when the time came to go to war you were ready. The Battle was bloody and ugly and cruel. It was long and it felt never ending for every body you cut down it seemed there was ten more to replace it. When you watched as Cassin dove from the sky just as the cauldron unleashed its power amongst the world, the fight seemed hopeless. How were you supposed to win when hybern had that kind of power to be used whenever the king wished? But as a warrior in your own right you just wished that when you died upon this battle field that it wasn’t for nothing. That everyone in your family made it home by the end of this war, you may not recognize your family anymore but they meant the world to you and you just wanted them to be safe no matter the cost. 

Seeing help arrive re-established your hope that Hybern wouldn’t win and it pushed you to fight that much harder but the renewed sense of vigor made you lose focus and that was your downfall. A hybern soldier came charging at you with the anger of a thousand suns and sliced your stomach in one quick motion and before you knew it you were one the ground bleeding out. 

The inner circle was checking on Cassian when an unexpected figure came walking in with your limp body in their arms. “Oh gods, y/n!’’ Mor was the first to stand up and gawk at you in Tamlins arms before the healers directed him to a place where they could properly work on you. Nothing was said as the healers started working, as the inner circles' minds were racing and as Tamlin was leaving. “Thank you” Tamlin didn’t even stop to acknowledge Rhysands form of gratitude. Azriel was the first to speak “How did we forget about her?” no one had an answer.  

Once back in Velaris with your healing underway you could tell that something was off within the group besides the obvious effects of a battle like that and a gut feeling told what it was. You could feel this sense of guilt every time you stepped foot into a room and you knew it was that they forgot about you, they never said that they did but while you were unconscious you could hear everything, and what you heard broke your heart. You were becoming an outsider in your own family. 

You watched day by day as Amren bickered with Nesta, Ryhsand flirt with Feyre and cassian with Nesta, watched as Elain and Azriel danced the line of lovers and watched as you were slowly distanced from the group but it all came to a head after a heated argument with Elain. You were sick and tired of her acting like she was helpless when she wasn’t. She was cauldron made and she needed to start acting like it or else it would get someone killed or even herself. It happened on a training day. 

The sun was beating down on your tired body and the whisper of a breeze was doing little to help and listening to Elain ask Azriel for help was driving you up a wall. “Azriel can you help me? I don’t think I'm doing this right?”  all she was doing was stretching and she needed help with it? “For fucks sake Elain do you want him to spoon feed you and wipe your ass for you while hes at it?” Everyone stopped at your outburst and stared at you. Nesta looked like she was ready to rip off your face but Azriel beat her to it “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you watched as she shifted her body to be behind his as if she knew he would fight her battles for her. “What it means Azriel” you stalked into his space until you were face to face and watched over his shoulder and Elain moved to seek comfort between her sister and the high lord and you couldn’t help but scoff at her theatrics 

 “Is that all this group ever seems to do is baby her! She is not a child, she can handle herself. She doesn’t need you to teach her how to touch her toes Azriel but heaven forbid poor sweet Elain has to do something on her own for once. I mean my gods what aren’t you willing to do for her Azriel? Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t you give her the truth teller?” Azriel was quick to interrupt “Is that what this is seriously about?” if looks could kill he would be dead because your glare is cutting him up into pieces “I wasn’t done. You gave her your dagger, you went into a hybern camp to save her, you answer her every single beck and call as if she's not fully capable of doing things for herself. You all enable this, every single one of you!” you point to every member of the inner circle “ And I have had enough of this bullshit! Its ridiculous! Elain loves to play sweet and innocent but really she just loves having people dote on her and not having to do anything herself.”  Everyone knew you were seething for they could see the redness creeping up your neck and into your face. And apparently you pissed off Elain

 “So what if Azriel did those things for me it has nothing to do with you so mind your own business.” you knew she wasn’t as nice as she seemed. “This has everything to do with me! I used to be his best friend, me! Not you! I watched everyone change when your family came along and it ruined mine! I have been in love with Azriel since the day I met him and yet I’ve had to watch him fall for you, who he hasn’t even known for two seconds! I heard him say that they forgot about me on the battlefield after hybern! So yes this is about me, I am an outsider in my own family!” The silence was deafening after watching you fight to speak through your tears and cracking voice. No one dared to move for fear of upsetting you even more or maybe it was the weight of your words keeping them in place. Azriel went to place a hand on top of your shoulder but you were quick to step out of his reach. “Y/n I had no idea you felt that way” again you couldn’t help but scoff “Of course not because you were too busy with sweet Elain to notice anything else.” he shook his head as if in a silent no “I am so sorry that we forgot about you there is no excuse it should of never happened. I-we never knew you felt this way, felt like you were being pushed away. But y/n why didn’t you ever tell me that you had feelings for me?” something broke in Azriels heart watching you cry, watched as your face scrunched in pain while you fought back sobs from taking over your body. Something pulled him to comfort you but he knew better than that. He couldn’t, not with Elain here.

“I have been telling you for five hundred years Azriel how much more do you want me to do? I may have never flat out said it but why do you think I stayed up waiting for you to come home after missions, or why I defended you against the teasing, or why I showed you my love in a thousand different ways but you never noticed even though you are the head spy master of the night court.” a sob racked your body forcing you to stop and Azriel wanted nothing more than to hold you until the tears stopped flowing and you felt whole again something in his soul was pulling him towards you but your next words stopped him in his tracks. “I never told you because to you it seems that I have never just been good enough. I have never been enough for you.”

[waitineedaname]

POV for the no excuses writing meme, please 👀 (i love this game so much!)

a bit of context: this is for my lesbingqiu wip inspired by that "can yuo put that out on me" tweet! the wip is from binghe's pov, so here's shen yuan instead. she strikes me as the kind of person to think being thirty makes her old (it does not lol)

--

Shen Yuan wasn't sure why Shang Qinghua had insisted on dragging her out drinking if she was just going to abandon her at the first sight of her situationship across the bar. She didn't care if Shang Qinghua insisted she needed to go out more! She had work to do! Never mind that her "work" these days mostly amounted to opening her dissertation document, glaring at it for an hour, and then closing it again. She was simply getting too old to go out drinking. She was thirty now; she might as well join a knitting circle if Qinghua was that worried about her social life.

She continued grumbling to herself as she lit her cigarette. It was much quieter outside the bar, though she could still feel the music thumping through the wall behind her. She would give Shang Qinghua another five or ten minutes to prove she hadn't completely forgotten about her, just long enough to take a smoke break, and then she'd leave. She could go home, change into her pyjamas, and spend the evening working through her reading list like she'd originally intended.

Her plans were interrupted by a sudden spike in the bar's volume as someone opened the door and stumbled out into the alley beside her. Shen Yuan nearly dropped her cigarette as she was suddenly confronted by the most absurdly beautiful woman she'd ever seen.

She wondered deliriously for a moment whether there had been a modelling event that she didn't know about, because there was no other explanation for a woman this gorgeous being loose in the wild. Her dress hugged her curves in all the right places, and she had the kind of artful curls that Shen Yuan thought only existed in professionally styled wigs. Her bone structure was fine, and her skin was perfect. Seriously, was Shen Yuan hallucinating?!

The woman was also, Shen Yuan realized, extremely drunk. She stumbled over her high heels, reaching out to support herself on the wall with a groan. Shen Yuan's hands itched to reach out and support her, but she resisted the impulse.

"Are you alright?" she asked instead. The woman looked up, startled, eyes wide as if she hadn't realized Shen Yuan was there. Absolutely no way those eyelashes were real. They had to be falsies.

The woman made a slightly incoherent noise, and Shen Yuan frowned. How drunk was she? She then abruptly stood up straighter, though she was clearly still supporting herself on the wall.

"I'm fine," she said, surprising Shen Yuan with a low, smooth voice like honey. "I just needed some fresh air."

Shen Yuan nodded sympathetically. Poor thing. "Drink a little too much?"

The other woman's lips pursed in a pout. "My friend ordered shots," she explained.

And then just let her wander off?! Shen Yuan would like a word with this friend of hers. "You should be careful with those," she cautioned. "They can get you drunk very fast."

The woman nodded with the earnestness of an eager student. "Jiejie is very wise."

Oh, she was far too cute. Is this what people were referring to when they talked about blessed interactions between drunk girls at a bar? Never mind that Shen Yuan was hardly buzzed herself. She wanted to pat this girl's head and give her more wisdom, even if this wasn't really her area of expertise.

"Would jiejie keep me company while I sober up?" asked the other woman, her speech slightly slurred and her dark eyes pleading. As if Shen Yuan could say no to eyes like that!

"Of course." Shen Yuan nodded. It was her responsibility, after all! A code of sisterhood, to look out for drunk girls! "What's your name?"

"Luo Binghe." She found a more comfortable position leaning against the wall, resulting in her curls spilling over her chest. Shen Yuan foolishly tracked the motion, then forced her eyes back up to Luo Binghe's face. Aiyah! That dress really left very little to the imagination! Wasn't she cold?! Should Shen Yuan offer her jacket? "What should I call jiejie?"

"Shen Yuan." She lifted her cigarette to her lips and took another drag in the hopes that it would make Luo Binghe's appearance less distracting. Luo Binghe was staring at her with an intensity that made her want to squirm. "Are you here for some special occasion?"

Luo Binghe just continued to stare at her for a while. Poor thing, she really must be drunk. Shen Yuan knew how slowly she processed things when she was drunk. She could be patient with the girl. "My friends wanted to celebrate me starting graduate school," Luo Binghe eventually explained. Her pretty features pulled in a slight frown. "I think it's just an excuse for them to get drunk."

Shen Yuan chuckled at the petulance on Luo Binghe's face. "Maybe, but that’s a worthy thing to celebrate. Congratulations on starting grad school."

"Thank you, Shen-jie." Luo Binghe's expression softened into a smile again, still laser-focused on Shen Yuan's face.

Shen Yuan took a moment to look Luo Binghe over again. Grad school, huh? Shen Yuan struggled to believe that, but she couldn't see why Luo Binghe would lie. It's just, Shen Yuan was in graduate school, and she felt horribly outclassed by the girl in front of her. With looks like hers, she could easily become an idol or something! She didn't deserve to waste away in academia like Shen Yuan, though she admired Luo Binghe's academic drive. And so young, too...

"You seem awfully young for grad school," Shen Yuan said. It could be that she just took good care of herself, but she wouldn't have been surprised if she'd said she was still an undergrad. "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-five," Luo Binghe said.

"Twenty-five," Shen Yuan repeated. Twenty-five! And she was here, talking to thirty year old Shen Yuan outside a bar. Shen Yuan's earlier impression was right; this really was not the scene for her. "I think I’m officially too old for this bar. People will think I’m a creep if I keep coming around here." She took another drag from her cigarette, feeling morose over her age. "When I graduated high school, you would’ve been thirteen. Isn’t that weird?"

It had seemed like Luo Binghe was sobering up, but she suddenly wobbled on her heels. She was staring intensely at the cigarette in Shen Yuan's hand. "Can you put that out on me?" she slurred.

Shen Yuan's heart rate spiked. Ah! How could she be so oblivious? What kind of helpful jiejie was she if she was blowing smoke in Luo Binghe's direction?! "Oh! I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked if it was okay to smoke near you. I’ll put it out." She quickly ground it out on the wall. Luo Binghe made a pitiful noise of complaint, but that's okay, Shen Yuan had this handled now! No more smoke when Luo Binghe had specifically wanted to get fresh air!

"I know it’s a bad habit," Shen Yuan attempted to make an excuse for herself, her fingers itching with nervous energy. "It gives me something to do with my mouth and hands. I guess I should get a fidget cube or something less bad for me, but…" She trailed off with an awkward laugh.

Luo Binghe's eyes were still wide and slightly wet, fixated on her hands. Poor thing, the smoke must've made her eyes water. She opened her mouth, but she was interrupted by the door to the bar opening with a slam.

"Bing-jie!" A girl burst out of the bar, covered in jangling jewellery and not much in the way of actual clothing. She latched onto Luo Binghe's arm, speaking way too loudly to be sober. "You left your Ling-er all alone in the bar!"

Luo Binghe's expression immediately soured, but based on the way she didn't shove the other girl away, it was clear she knew her. Ah, Shen Yuan realized. This must be the friend who'd ordered the shots. Well, she'd just been planning to keep an eye on Luo Binghe until she sobered up or a friend joined her, and here was the friend. Her company was no longer needed here.

"I should probably get going," Shen Yuan said, giving Luo Binghe a soft smile. She had been scowling at her friend, but when she looked back up at Shen Yuan, her eyes were wide and puppyish again. "Get home safe, okay?"

Luo Binghe nodded, once again reminding her of an earnest student. "I will, Shen-jie."

Shen Yuan waved and left the alleyway. She sighed and pulled out her phone to call a cab. Shang Qinghua could find her own way home. Serves her right.

Still, the night wasn't a complete wash. Even as she made her way home, her thoughts drifted back to Luo Binghe. Did she get home alright? Was she drinking enough water? Would she be too hungover in the morning? A girl that pretty and that drunk could be a real target for unsavory people. Shen Yuan didn't doubt that she could handle herself -- those arms of hers were impressive -- but she couldn't help but worry.

Ah, well. Worrying wouldn't do her any good. It's not like they'd ever see each other again.

She put thoughts of Luo Binghe aside and decided to put her energy towards preparing orientation for her department's incoming graduate students.

[stewiesclark]

Second Nature: Chapter One

Full Series

September 18, 2013.

“It’s Wednesday. I have class tomorrow, Grace and you know that I rarely go out then.” Harriet pleaded to the much shorter strawberry blonde in front of her.

“Okay, let me reiterate. Nic is going to be there and you know this part and I could use a friend, there’s nothing weird about it at all. You don’t have to drink, I just need a friend there,” Grace pleaded for the millionth time. She had been trying to convince Harriet to go out with her all week to this party and each plea was unsuccessful. Her philosophy was something along the lines of preferring to not get into straight people's business — it’s not her culture.

Harriet deadpanned her, realizing she was going to lose but figured she could use some leverage in this scenario. “What could I possibly get out of this?” She asked playfully but also very seriously. Whenever one of them wanted something that the other REALLY did not want to do they playfully leveraged each other. Some people would call it using your friends, but Grace and Harriet would call it sisterhood.

“Nic has a hot, tall friend, Harrie, I’ve already thought through all of this,” She answered with an air of glee to her. Harriet couldn’t exactly deny the offer. While Grace is going to try to get this guy to see her again, she could be talking to someone new which is always fun for her — first, she needs a way to find other queer people on this campus and second, she loves to get to know people.

Harriet decided to drag this out for a moment or two longer for the anticipation to build. She faked thinking thoughtfully for a moment and then reluctantly answered, “Fine. I’ll go with you,” which ended with her giving Grace a genuine soft smile.

When they finally ended up at the party, it was a fraternity house that was as dirty as they come. Grace was taking her to meet up with Nic and Harriet had never met the man, but just based on the immense anxiety he gives her friend, she already was NOT a fan.

When they met up things were awkward, to say the least. It was Nic clearly just wanting to have sex with her and Grace becoming very very very into him. “You’re Harper, right?” He yelled at her over the loud music as Harriet was deep into drinking a cup of ‘battery acid’.

“It’s Harriet,” She yelled back but also deadpanned at him, and in response he just shrugged. “Grace told me that you’re gay so I thought you could meet my friend.” Harriet’s queerness was very well known, she didn’t really try to hide it and she hasn’t tried to hide it since she was in middle school, but it always made her laugh that at these kinds of things, they would always put her with the other gay person.

The girl Nic introduced Harriet to was tall, kind of lanky, and really pretty, almost engraving with her eye contact. She had really rather enchanting blue eyes and very engaging features to the point where you could not look away. However, the issue with that was that she was so goddamn tall that looking at her for a prolonged amount of time would probably break her neck. Harriet was not even short at all, she was about 5 '7, but the girl she was looking at was tall. 

At this point in time, it was very apparent that she had been staring for a good while at her and that became apparent when the taller girl spoke up, “Hi, what’s your name?” She said kind of awkwardly but her posture was tall still while leaning in over the loud noise of the party.

She giggled a little when it became clear that she had been staring earlier which just made the other cock her head, “Oh it’s Harriet.” She smiled softly before asking her what hers was back. She knew well that it was Breanna Stewart, but she did not want to come across as a fan.

“Breanna,” she replied and she could tell by the look on her face that it felt nice to be able to say that to someone rather than being told who she was by another person even if Harriet did know who she was. After all, this was UConn where people eat, sleep, and breathe basketball. The only place that might be more bullish about basketball is the state of Indiana which is where Harriet called home.

Breanna pounded for a moment on what to say before going ahead and asking her, “Do you want to go outside? It’s super loud in here and I would like to be able to talk to you.” She smiled at her and Harriet returned that with a nod which was the best to do given how ungodly the noise in the party was.

When they got outside, they both had a cup of a punch which contained god knows what and sat on a bench to talk, “Soooo how do you know Nic?” Breanna asked her to tease her because she knew how much of a dick he could be (to put it lightly).

“Oh he’s very on and off again with my best friend and the only way he would talk to her is if she came here tonight.” Harriet grimaced, “What a catch!” She joked before taking a sip of her punch and asking the same.

“He’s my ex’s best friend and he invited me because he told me and I quote ‘this hot girl that is sadly gay is going to be there so I think you should meet her’.” She explained in air quotes which got a laugh out of Harriet.

“He’s a character alright.”

“Enough about him though, what brings you to UConn?” Breanna asked inquisitively because she knew why she was there but other people’s reasons were always interesting.

She thought about it for a moment and how she wanted to answer this question, “Academic scholarship and I have family who live around here.”

“Oh wow so you’re like smart smart,” She teased.

“So what brings you to UConn?” Harriet posed the question back.

Breanna paused, not quite sure how to answer it exactly, “Basketball but that’s really not interesting at all.”

“I mean it is interesting, that’s a whole other life that most people have never lived.” She said kind of sounding philosophical of sorts.

The two kept talking about Harriet’s schoolwork which was in Economics and Engineering and Breanna’s experience with basketball and how she ended up here. They both went into detail, but not so much detail to the point where it was too much detail or too much for comfort.

Once they both realized hours had passed and Breanna had to be up in like three hours it became a problem, “Oh shit! It’s so late, can I have your number?” She asked which took Harriet off guard because she always gets shocked when people want to talk to her especially when someone like Breanna wanted to who was (in her head) out of her league.

She gave her her number and teased, “Wow this is a bold first move, just make sure you remember to talk to me with how busy you are.” She made a joke out of this since a piece of their conversation had been about how Breanna was so busy with the combination of basketball and schoolwork that she barely had time to eat.

“Well maybe Nic did one thing right by having us talk and don’t worry I’ll remember to talk to you,” She said kind of flirtatiously leaning close to her which made Harriet go insane inside and as she was thinking about it Breanna moved near her which made Harriet go, “you have to sleep,” She said placing her hand on her cheek and rubbing it. 

“I do, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Then before Harriet knew it they had parted ways and Harriet was thinking about the things she said and her expressions that made her go insane and at that moment she realized, I’m fucked. 

[may-bee-its-just-me]

Dearest, Mocha

I'm a month late to friendship day, but here's to celebrating our long-term friendship! Been friends since 8th grade (about 7 yrs now???) and I can't imagine what my life would have been like without you. Ever since the beginning you've inspired and encouraged me to continue writing and drawing characters and their wacky little worlds. From cringey teenage roleplays on Google Hangouts, to our Tumblr blogs of today - From angsty "my oc do not steal ™" plotlines, to fleshing out complex stories of overcoming adversity (while still keeping some cringey tropes) - You've encouraged me to continue trying to create new and better ideas and build on my skills. You help keep my creative spark burning, and for that I'll always be thankful.

I've been asked before why of all the people that have come into my life, why you're my best friend. "What makes her different?". And to that, I had a hard time figuring out for a while. That's because every person I've befriended and held close, I had taken a little piece of them and sewn it into the core of my being - And so, trying to figure out why of everyone I've sewn into the patchwork of my person, you stand out as my best friend, was hard. I love deeply. I'm ride or die, within reason.

Today as I was eating breakfast (at noon, naturally) and starting the coloring process for these drawings, I figured it out.

You and I have never gotten along perfectly. You have never fully understood me. You've even at times made passing remarks or slightly judgmental looks at my quirks. You have never "Read me like a book" as some others have.

In the beginning, you and I used to rip each other's throats out during arguments and almost stopped talking to each other completely. And that fact is what hit me - While my other friends had loved the good parts of me, loved the healing or healed parts of me - You loved me when I was nothing. When I was spitting at the world, mad at everyone and everything, you loved me. You saw me at my worst and still you stuck around. Some of our other friends from middle school knew me back then, but none had seen me in the light you did and yet every time my behavior caused you to back away for your sake (and vice versa), we always came back together and we came back stronger.

And even after a good chunk of our conflicts passed over- You had been repeatedly separated from me by outside forces for different lengths of time, and yet every time - You came back. You fought and clawed to keep me in your life, and I did too. All odds stacked against us, we are still here. We're thriving. We've been able to heal and grow up together.

Now we're adults, both of us heading toward our 20's and yet it still feels like last year we were in middle school typing away at our Harry Potter Drarry ship or Eddsworld apocalypse romance fanfiction roleplays. Here's to many more years to come - Creating even more stories, growing into adulthood, and walking in sisterhood as the seasons of our lives continue on ever changing.

I love you bestie,

-Bee. 🐝

[livingbreathingdreams]

Pedro Pascal Character Fics 💖

• DIN DJARIN • JAVIER PEÑA • JOEL MILLER • FRANKIE MORALES • JACK DANIELS • DIETER BRAVO •

🌸 Slow burn [because I’m a sucker for endless buildup] ⎮ ⚪️ Friends to lovers ⎮ 🧡 Personal favorite ⎮ * There is cheating (by the main characters, which I don't condone, but the story is so good I'm making an exception)

//

Din Djarin

Series

❤︎ A Fresh Start @theidiotwhowritesthings 🌸🧡

When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

❤︎ To the Bone @honeydjarin 🌸

Your soulmate is a bounty hunter, one who intends to collect the price on your head, even if that means bringing you in cold. You can’t run, can’t hide, can’t avoid the inevitable, so you intend to weaponize your silence.

❤︎ home is wherever I'm with you @saradika

When it appears the droid repair will take longer than expected, Din finds himself taking Karga up on his offer for the parcel of land. And when you go to give your new neighbor a warm welcome - you never imagine that it would be the very man you haven’t been to stop thinking about.

❤︎ Of Constellations & Creeds @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa 🌸

Everyone loves the Alpha and Omega Fated Mates for Life troupe so, what if The Mandalorians were a society of Alphas, a dying race because your sisterhood of Omegas are becoming more and more rare by the day? You and Din were mated before you were born, your futures written in the stars–and that pissed you off, both of you. At least in the beginning.

❤︎ of beskar and kyber @penvisions 🌸

You’ve been on the run for as long as you can remember, from a lot of different people and a lot of different things. Everyone seems to see you as either a prize to show off or a captive to exploit. You had been successful in keeping a low profile and evading brief captures. That is until your mother contracted the Guild and the Mandalorian came to possess your tracking fob. Will he be the reason your freedom is no longer something attainable or will he be the one to help you achieve it in ways you never anticipated? 

❤︎ unearthed @grippingbeskar

Royal!Reader, arranged marriage, need I say more?

//

Javier Peña

Series

❤︎ Teach Me Tonight @storiesofthefandomlovers ⚪️

Y/N and Javier both have things to talk about when he visits her apartment one night. Y/N tells her partner about her crush on Brad from the CIA and reveals that she is a virgin and has barely been kissed. She wants to make sure she can impress Brad and asks Javier to educate her on all things sex and seduction.

One Shots

❤︎ going slow @ezrasbirdie sex hurts and Javier is an angel 🌶

❤︎ Favours Repaid @pascalispretty Javier doesn't like leaving a lady unsatisfied 🌶

//

Joel Miller

Series

❤︎ Honeyed @softlyspector Tattoo Artist!Joel AU 🌸⚪️🧡

You hate being touched, but you might be willing to put aside your discomfort for a tattoo from Joel.

❤︎ a stranger's heart without a home @morning-star-joy 🌸⚪️🧡

Sleeping with Joel Miller was supposed to be a one time thing. When the older brother of your closest friend showed up in Jackson, you hadn't expected him to stay more than a day. You'd both given into a brief moment of passion before he left, and that was the end of that. It didn't matter, you were never going to see him again. Then Joel returns a few months later, and screws up everything about the comforting life you had established in Jackson.

❤︎ Yearling @justagalwhowrites 🌸⚪️

After years of surviving in the wilds of Wyoming after the cordyceps outbreak, you find yourself in Jackson. It's a town filled with friendly faces and the kind of world you hardly remember, let alone can connect with or understand. But one man - Joel Miller, another loner, like you - makes you think that trying to find your place in society again might be worth it.

❤︎ SOMETHING TO FIGHT FOR @auteurdelabre 🌸* [buckle up this one is devastating friends]

After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever. The only problem is your best friend Maria is dating his brother and their construction company has been hired to renovate where you work. In an effort to support your friend, you’re thrust into the unwanted job of babysitting Joel’s young daughter one night. As time goes on you’re not expecting to find a confidant in Joel Miller but when you do, you wonder how you ever survived without him.

❤︎ Maintenance Request @burntheedges Modern AU 🌸

Hot Construction Guy is the bane of your existence - he seems to only pop up at the worst possible moment for you, every time you see him. There’s no way there could be something more there. Right?

❤︎ Roommates @punkshort Pornstar!Joel AU 🌸⚪️*

Your roommate, Maria, introduces you to her boyfriend's brother. You hit it off immediately, but when you find out the true nature of his profession, you both decide to remain just friends. But once the four of you eventually move in together, things get... complicated.

One Shots

❤︎ Good as New @forever-rogue Joel stitches you up

❤︎ Body of Water @lambsigh body hair insecurity, soft!Joel

❤︎ skinny dipping with Joel @swiftispunk shy/innocent reader

❤︎ give in @futureman Joel shows you how to love yourself 🌶

❤︎ adoration @morallyinept cancer/mastectomy 🌶 [part of BODIES a Collection of Pedro Boy & Real Body Reader One Shots]

//

Frankie Morales

Series

❤︎ the layover @goodwithcheese 🌸

One night can change everything. (Frankie and reader are both parents so children will be present occasionally, Frankie is such a good dad.)

❤︎ Shared Breaths @frenchiereading 🌸

On the first day of school you meet single dad Frankie Morales and his daughter who is enrolled in your first grade class. As the year progresses, what started as parent-teacher conversations grow deeper, your encounters grow more frequent and feelings that you shouldn’t entertain for a student’s parent are becoming harder and harder to ignore. 

One Shots

❤︎ acts of service @swiftispunk you've never had your pussy ate and your best friend Frankie helps you out 🌶

//

Jack Daniels

Series

❤︎ Palomino @fuckyeahdindjarin 🌸🧡

Unable to get a refund for a week-long horse-riding pack trip you'd booked with your ex, you decide to go solo. As it turns out, a rebound with a cowboy named Jack while traversing the wild landscapes of Wyoming might just be what you need.

//

Dieter Bravo

Series

❤︎ Celestial Navigation @write-and-buried 🌸🧡

Dumped and drowning in a summer storm, you duck inside a coffee shop to hide from your broken heart. Covered in plants and hand drawn images over exposed brick, it seems like a slice of heaven. The owner brings you a blueberry muffin and a promise; you'll fall in love with him before the new year.

❤︎ Sweet Creature @wildemaven 🌸

A washed up movie star with a failing career, fresh out of rehab and looking to turn his life around. He moves back to his small hometown to take a break from stardom and help his sister out with his niece— He’s traded the high-life for school runs and crafting. What he doesn’t except is to meet you, his niece’s school teacher who couldn’t care less about his extensive filmography or his dwindling fame.

❤︎ starstruck @ezrasbirdie ⚪️

What happens when a lonely dieter bravo actually answers an Instagram message from a fan?

❤︎ A LITTLE SUN @auteurdelabre 🌸⚪️

As a PA to megastar and mega man-child Dieter Bravo you've had your fair share of headaches. Getting accidentally pregnant with his baby however takes the cake, especially when he offers to pay you to be his surrogate. You just weren't expecting to fall in love with him along the way.

❤︎ bright lights @ezrasbirdie 🌸 Neurodivergent!Reader

Dieter Bravo is a man so complicated that his personal assistant needs her own personal assistant just to keep up with his demands, and that’s where you come in. Part time, flexible hours, and a free place to live—you can’t imagine a more perfect gig. You don’t even mind the budding crush you have on Mr. Bravo; that is, until your boss falls ill right before awards season, leaving you to pick up the slack.

One Shots

❤︎ Puppy Love @deakyjoe 🌸 Your neighbour Dieter's dog is the only comfort you need during stressful days. Well, maybe her and her owner.

❤︎ Love To Hate @deakyjoe 🌶🧡 You hate Dieter Bravo more than anything. So why are you asking him to sleep with you? coworkers to lovers

[ketterdamskaelishprince]

ada the mirrorball/chameleon, a very vague and weird conversation on her character (ep 37-40)

going to off the bat make this abundantly clear that I JUST LIKE TO TALK!! if you think anything is outrageously wrong that's ok :)

anyways, this stems from me rereading nevermore and just, with hindsight, feeling a bit silly for my first opinions on ada. when i first read nevermore, i felt this overwhelming annoyance for her, and at times definitely hated her. especially at the beginning. she was a nuisance. but, i think like many others, as i continued, i just began to feel bad for her. and on my reread, i think that's just more prominent than ever.

i'm going to just be talking about general stuff from episodes 37-40, because if i talked about anything else i could probably talk until my jaw fell off. especially about her spectre, but let know if you want any rambles about that or not!

for this, i'm very much just going to ramble and then show you little pictures of where i picked this up!

so in episode 37, which as a quick summary is when ada is talking to lenore in the bathroom which can be summarised by this webtoon comment:

anyways, so as covered they have a big conversation in the bathroom where ada basically says to lenore that maybe she misjudged her and maybe they should team up/be tentative friends. it's part genuine from what i can tell and also part manipulative. but what's interesting about the conversation in the bathroom is what ada does.

take this for example:

i have absolutely no idea why that was the first thought that poked out to me, but here we are! the more i looked at it, the more i thought it was odd.

at first, i thought of it like a teen girl desperate to make friends, the same urge you get to sit beside your friend and just paint each others nails and the yearn for the closeness of a friendship where you swap clothes and stuff. girlhood and sisterhood. you know, that stuff.

but then i thought about it a bit more (and you know, could be reading a bit too much into this so excuse me if i am) and i thought about what we know about ada. obviously, this doesn't come in these episodes, but later in the series we're shown (i think) that ada fell in love with a rich man basically, and was murdered by him (i think!! correct me if i am wrong !!!) and we know she wasn't of the same class as him, something we become even more aware of in the next few episodes.

anyways, i thought about it, and then i thought about lenore and then i was like "oh is this something to do with class" and after reading too much into it i can conclude IT DOES HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH CLASS!

i think, if we look into it, ada's conversation could also suggest that ada wants to be lenore– not in the emo sad lesbian who's divorced sense but more she wants to have the life lenore has and wants the attention. i think ada sees lenore and maybe thinks subconsciously about the way she speaks and walks and assumes she's of high social standing. and since we're aware she isn't (especially with the way she says certain fancy words wrong) i think ada latches onto this and in the act of asking for trading blazers, i think she essentially is saying she wants the respect and status lenore has.

because what's one thing we definitely know about ada? she wants to be loved, she basically admits this to lenore as well in this episode.

and we already see lenore and annabel's little back and forth and the fact that people "flock" to lenore. so, i dunno guys, maybe this is ada saying she wants that? she wants that respect and she wants to be adored, loved and seen. but as herself, she doesn't get it.

again, me looking too closely into it.

but i dunno, there's something to be said about this whole scene in itself and the things ada does.

like here she's curling her hair with her fingers, something annabel literally does all the time. in that way, she tries to use people the same way annabel does, or what we see annabel do later. she curls her hair, tries to act all coy and tries to act like what she knows lenore is susceptible to. she does it i think not totally out of malice, but a place of insecurity because she wants to gain validation from her own little group. but it's funny because, even in this act, ada still fails to embody annabel. a wolf in sheep's clothing is still a wolf, and ada is still ada even if she desperately tries to act like somebody else.

then there's also the dinner scene in episode 38. we know that each of their meals is based on what they would've wanted as their last meal. and what's ada's?

beluga caviar and champagne. both items that are absolutely rooted in the upper class. beluga caviar, fun fact, is also the most expensive type of caviar! ada's whole meal is a need and a want to be like the upper class and the obscenely large bowl of caviar just shows it. also, this whole scene (i think) is our first hint that ada isn't as, i dunno, posh (?) as she claims she is. of course, that's if you ignore when she doesn't pronounce things right.

then, if you look to episode 39, you kind of see more of ada's character and how she acts.

here you see ada only pipes in when she's gotten confirmation that there's something behind it. ada is the type to stand behind anything so long as she has support– something so deeply rooted in her insecurities. take this and then take the fact girl barks like a dog in ep 40 into account, and you see something so overwhelmingly sad about her character. rereading this just made me pity ada even more.

i think, as a side note, i see a lot of people in webtoon comments and then some on tumblr make connections to morella and ada being similar, almost like two sides of the coin. and to an extent i agree with that. i think the different lies how in how they react to montresor in this episode.

you see here that morella practically pleads with montresor to stop, but ada just blindly listens. she becomes, almost, a bit pathetic here. and also, sidenote, i cannot reread this episode with having to put my phone down and take a lap because this baffles me every single time. but i read it because wow yummy artstyle. ANYWAY.

you see ada truly desperate here. desperate to be loved, desperate to be accepted, desperate to be finally seen as somebody who has worth and value and desperate to be adored by them all and most of all: to be seen by annabel as a worthy friend or pawn, whichever she can get.

i think this is truly heartbreaking when you read it, because ada just wants to be loved and she'll do anything for it. i think in that way, morella and her differ. because morella is completely different to ada in the fact that even if she wants to make friends and to please people, she has a level of respect for herself and an overwhelming sense of empathy which trumps any insecurity. ada is the complete opposite in that aspect. her need to be loved and her insecurities trump her morals and her decision making skills.

and idk, i think there's something so sad about humiliating yourself and knowing you are humiliating yourself just so you can get somebody to notice you. i think it's just so fucking sad, and i can't look at ada and think she deserves to be hated anymore.

she might be a brat, but guys she's a brat with trauma and crippling insecurities and i think in some twisted way i love her.

anyways yeah, that's the end of my ramble!

[gatheringbones]

wickie stamps, from I am your Frankenstein, from leatherfolk: radical sex, people, politics and practice, edited by mark thompson, 1991

[“My activism began right after the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., with a donation to the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. In my twen- ties, in hopes of reaching women like my momma who were locked away from their children, I joined forces with men and women whose families, like mine, were imprisoned. A decade later, I expanded this work to include battered women who were incarcerated for killing their abusers. Although my activism has spanned the communist and anti- intervention movements, it was in the anti- psychiatry, the women's health, and eventually the violence- against- women movements that I would directly wage war against the madness in my past.

For over half my life, I've sat on dozens of progressive boards, volunteered thousands of hours, held down back- breaking, poverty- level movement jobs, and attended many protests. I have watched fellow activists collapse, and institutions and movements I fought to build dissolve. Because of ill health, poverty, breakdowns, and emotional abuse, most of my peers have left political work. My activism is the only weapon I have ever had against the domestic violence, alcoholism, homophobia, and sexism that have maimed me, my family, and my friends.

Since coming out as a sadomasochist, I have felt a perpetual scream of rage against a movement that has betrayed me. I do not know if I will ever be able to express how deeply I have been wounded. For my sadomasochism has turned me into a pariah. The compliant face of sisterhood, which once comforted me, has now cracked open to reveal a poisonous Medusa's head. My movement is now just like my familial home, a house filled with hissing vipers.

After twenty years of movement work, I am alone again. Right before a scene, in my leather or my lace, I sit on the edge of my bed and wonder, where are all those women activists to support me now? Where are they for my lover, who is much more experienced than I, and has paid dearly for pursuing her desires? If I tarry too long she must come into the room, sit down beside me, and hold me while I cry. Where is the army of women- “proud sisters" is what they said- to cheer us in our courageous act?

When an ex- lover who was angry about our breakup grabbed me and threatened my life, where the fuck were my sisters, so concerned with violence against women? Could I have found a haven in the scores of shelters I helped build? Or found my image in their literature, the words I helped write? Could I have asked for a return of the support that I’d given them? Or, now that I am a sadomasochist, are they wedded to their vicious theories that heap more blame on me than my lifetime of abusers?

In my family, words— in the form of eagerly awaited letters— were the only thing I had to cling to. Words, mailed across the madness, the miles, and the years, are the most cherished and untarnished heirloom that has been given to me. Violence and disease took everything else. Somehow in words we could love, laugh, and be the family we knew we weren't. When I received letters from my incarcerated momma, I would sit, late at night, cross- legged on my bed and gather them into a big pile on my lap. Then I drew them up into my arms and tried to squeeze the love inside of me. In my letters back to her I intentionally let my tears drip onto my childlike scrawl just in case she might not know that I was devastated from the loss of her or that my daddy was scaring me. To this day, when a letter from my sisters or my stepmother arrives, I carry it for days. Words were all we had.

And it is now words, the gift of my demolished family, that have become my source of strength. They are carrying me through rage and agony for a movement that has maimed me. With words, I can stake out my ground and wage my war. If I do not let their hatred against me come too near, I will not be hurt. For I am beginning to break the silence about the sickness within my movement. It is a way to help her heal. During those dark times, when my movement's fascistic sexual theories and hollow voices almost convince me I am sick, it is my anger rechanneled into clear prose that snaps me back from the edge that my feminist comrades persistently nudge me near.

There are amends to be made, reparations due, and many questions that in my writing I am beginning to ask. I want to ask," You, who demand accountability for batterers and rapists, what about the last decade of S/ M women you abused, denounced, and banned from your meeting places? When are you going to hold yourself accountable for your own violence against women?

After twenty years of devotion to a movement, I find myself searching for a new place of solace, and some reflection of myself. But where can I turn? To a movement gone mad? To old friends who love me but who, as I journey deeper into S/ M, feel so far away? To old theoretical iconoclasts- Andrea Dworkin, Mary Daly, Marilyn Frye my life- roots that now lie rotting? Or to the new leathermen and women in my life whom I know so scantily and whose support I need so desperately? When the final limb breaks and I am pitched into my abyss of fear, many eyes will see, but what hands will reach out to break my fall?

Although my voice is in growing disharmony with the matriarchal movement, I have decided that I will not betray that which bound my wounds. For she taught me to sound the depths of my rage and forge my fury into a sword to wield against my enemies. She gave me back the memories of my blood sisters and taught me to love my momma for her courage. She led me into my lesbianism, and eventually into my sadomasochism. But now she writhes in her own poisons. So while her sexually neutered goddesses are napping, I will slip into her lair and, with pen filled with my family's blood, confront her with the madness that she's trying to say is mine.”]

[shakesthewizard]

Hi please explain about fabianxadaine???

Okay since you asked so nicely here's the fucking thing about Fabadaine

First, some background info

Before we dive in, you should know a couple things. For one, I'm a firm bad kid polycule truther. You could truly pitch me any pairing/grouping of those kiddos and I could find a really ineresting and/or sweet dynamic to eat the drywall about

You should also know that I'm gonna most likely remember some details during this analysis - if you spot them, please let me know by putting them in a bottle and throwing them into the ocean.

Second, some character meta

Adaine O'Shaughnessey is a girl with a lot of courage. It's sort of her defining character trait. The idea of "a wizard with an anxiety disorder" brings to mind someone pretty timid, who's afraid of speaking their mind. But from her first appearance, we see clearly that to Adaine, her disorder is pretty explicitly medical. On her first day of freshman year, she's already talking back to her horrible parents and trying to stand up for herself. Long before she gets access to medication, her disorder hinders her the way an asthma attack might; it has no bearing on her willingness to do the courageous thing.

Relatedly, Adaine thrives under adversity. Not abuse or mistreatment, mind - what I mean is that she likes it when people push back at her a little, so that she has opportunities to test her ideas and opinions against dissent. Look at her dynamic with Aelwyn in season three. Those two bicker and banter; they poke at each other, but it's how they're expressing things like concern or pride.

You could argue, probably well, that this is a product of sisterhood, and a product of their history in particular. But I think there's more to it than that. We see throughout the show that Adaine is a person who cares about exceeding; about learning and growing and achieving great things. It's classic wizard.

Adaine is the child of the wealthy and the important, and that shapes everything about her. It influences her struggles; her abandonment issues in particular. But it also shapes her goals, her values, and her attitudes. She seeks recognition for her skills and her labor, and she wants the people she loves to challenge her so that she can grow and make them proud.

Fabian Seacaster is the son of a famous man and a natural talent. His showmanship is clear and evident from the first moments we see him, and it's reflected in his character build from the start. He's a Champion Fighter, after all.

This showmanship is, frankly, a testament to Lou Wilson's masterful understanding of characters. That single trait can be picked apart to help us understand everything about him.

Fabian is a showman because he was raised as the scion of an up-and-coming house; given every tool he needed to learn his parents' skills, and to prepare him to take the Seacaster name when the time comes.

Fabian is a showman because he believes wholeheartedly in his own greatness. His whole life, he's been surrounded by tutors whose whole job it has been to mold him into the perfect son, and they were paid enough to care about doing it right.

Fabian is a showman because he knows he's earned his own arrogance; wealth or not, pampered lifestyle or not, we see him scold his fencing teacher when he goes easy on him. Fabian isn't blinded by his privilege (or at least not entirely) - he genuinely cares about being the best, and he'll give up the luxury if it means greatness.

Fabian is a showman because he's deeply anxious. Bill and Hallariel clearly love their son, but being the only child of a world-famous pirate, tasked with being their emissary to Solace for future generations, is an unbelievable amount of pressure. Fabian has to be perfect to the world outside. He can't just be good; he can't just be great; he has to be Fabian Aramais Seacaster, Son of the Famous Bill Seacaster!

Fabian is a showman because he has to figure out who he is, somehow. Who is he, outside of his father? He certainly doesn't know, but suddenly he realizes he has to know, for his own sake. So he does what any kid does when they're trying to figure out their identity - they act out.

Finally, what I understand about Fabadaine that nobody else does

Fabian Seacaster and Adaine O'Shaughnessey are the children of the wealthy; the important. They're both second generation Solesians, sent out to represent their families. They're both ambitious people who are trying to achieve great things outside the expectations of their parents. They're both proud and straightforward, prioritizing their values over social niceties.

Adaine and Fabian both carry the swords of their dead fathers.

To put it simply - Fabian and Adaine are really good foils for each other, and I dislike when their dynamic is reduced to classic highschool boyfriend/girlfriend tropes.

As an example, a number of fics I've read have Fabian pursuing Adaine, and that simply doesn't hold up. Let's be honest here - Fabian has terrible taste in women, and has a bad track record of making the more self-destructive choice whenever romance is on the table. I have no doubt he likes Adaine, but he would also know that she'd hold him accountable and challenge him when he makes stupid choices. No, Adaine is the one initiating here.

The thing that really draws me to this pair is because both of them need and want to be challenged, but each of them has a different attitude towards challenging others, and it makes for an active dynamic that can evolve in a lot of interesting ways.

You know what, check back later. I need to write fic about this.

[rita-repulsa-ke]

First Meeting

“What’s your name?”

“Rio.”

“You’re gorgeous, you know.”

“I do. I like to hear you say it, though.”

Agatha looked at the bodies around her, then back up at the woman leaning against a tree, toying with a knife and studying her as if she were a tome worth deciphering. She didn’t need to ask if the stranger was a witch or even what her specialty was—one look with the Sight and she could see how strong she was, a column of green and black flame, power such as Agatha had never seen.

So the only real question was whether Agatha would be able take her to bed before she inevitably killed her.

“What’s all this then?” Rio asked, flicking her knife to point at the bodies.

Agatha looked around the clearing, clicked her tongue in dismay, as though she’d only just noticed the desiccated corpses at her feet. “Would you believe I walked up and they were already like this?”

The other woman gave her a toothy smile. “Do you know, I wouldn’t?”

“Then I guess I probably killed them.” Agatha spread her hands, shrugged like ‘what are you going to do’. “Want to get revenge?”

“Hmm. Should I?” Rio strolled out and examined the bodies, poking one with a booted foot.

“Seems like the right call,” Agatha said, arms open, inviting attack. “Sisterhood and all that. Go ahead, give it your best shot.”

Rio burst into high-pitched, grating laughter, annoying to hear but pretty to watch. “Do people actually fall for that? You so clearly want me to blast you!”

“Honestly? All the time,” Agatha said, only a little disappointed. “But then, most people tend to overreact to this sort of thing. You’re taking it very well.”

“I’m used to bodies.”

“Ooooh. Very mysterious.” Agatha sauntered forward, keeping one eye on the knife and the other on Rio, the latter simply because she was great to look at. “I like a little bit of mystery. Keeps me on my toes.”

“I’d prefer to sweep you off your feet.”

Agatha was more and more pleased Rio hadn’t chosen to blast her straight away. This was going to be fun. “Normally, I do the sweeping. For you, I might make an exception.” She wouldn’t, but she knew a challenge when she saw one and she did love a challenge.

Even if the challenge in question had an extraordinarily grating laugh, a shrill shriek of delight. “Oh, Agatha Harkness, you’re going to be fun.”

Agatha went still. “How do you know my name?”

“I know more than that about you. The Salemite coven killer. Matricide. Witch-slayer.”

Agatha didn't react outwardly, except to cross her arms across her chest. "You're very well-informed."

"Well, you've killed a lot of people. That kind of thing gets my attention. And look at you, so much power for a single witch, and all of it stolen."

Agatha couldn't tell if she was being complimented or insulted. "Have a problem with that?"

Rio shook her head. "Not at all. I want you to keep going. I want more bodies. I'm greedy that way."

So the gorgeous green witch was also crazy. That was fine with her, sexy and crazy could be an exciting combination, at least for a while, and after that, well, there was all that glorious power, hers for the taking. "Come with me then," Agatha purred, her voice husky with promise. "I'll get you all the bodies you want."

For a moment, Rio fixed her with a look that speared her in place, a butterfly on corkboard. Her breath caught in her throat in a very literal sense, her lungs frozen in her chest, unable to expand. Something vast and unknowable examined her as she might have examined a particularly interesting bug, right before she crushed it underfoot.

And then Rio looked away and she found herself gasping for air. "Keep talking like that and you really might sweep me off my feet," the other woman said, her hands behind her head, the smile on her lips a bloody gash, a wound in the world.

For a brief moment, Agatha had the sense to be terrified.

Then she simply refused to be. So the other woman had some tricks, that only made her more interesting.

And Agatha had some tricks of her own, especially in this particular game.

She stepped forward, cupped the back of Rio’s neck and pulled her closer, then kissed her, a rapacious, demanding kiss. She knew she was good at it and from the way Rio clutched at her, the other woman agreed, melting as Agatha worked a different kind of magic with teeth and tongue. When Agatha pulled back, she gave Rio the self-assured smile of a witch who had never doubted that she could have anything she wanted, including the woman in front of her. “Watch me,” she said.

Rio swallowed, struck briefly mute, and Agatha was already strolling past. "Come along then, darling," she called without a glance back.

Behind her, Death, the final hour, the last breath, touched her lips, murmured a very quiet 'wow' and trotted after Agatha.

Want to read some of Rio’s thoughts on Agatha? Try the thief

Want to read a post-breakup fic where Agatha tries to pierce the veil between the living and the dead and maybe even succeeds? Try the veil

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

She Likes You Anyway

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: Foster care (please don't read if the subject matter is triggering for you!) Word count: 1,705

You sat on the couch, staring at the door and furiously tapping your legs. Casey squeezed your hands between hers to keep them from shaking. Even so, you rocked slowly back and forth, the rhythm and movement calming you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Casey asked, a concerned expression on her face.

“Well, it’s a little late to turn back now.”

Casey sighed and circled her thumbs over your hands. “What are you worried about?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, that I’ll be a shit parent?”

“Hey,” she said, grabbing your head to hold you steady.. “We’ve been over this. You are kind and empathetic and you make people feel safe. And you’re great with kids.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, slowing your tapping.

“If anybody should be worried, it’s me,” Casey added. “I really didn’t want a baby.”

It was your turn to comfort Casey now. She tried to look strong–she always did. But she was biting her lip and picking at the corner of her nails, telltale signs that she was more anxious than she let on. You drew circles with your fingers on her thighs.

“You’re gonna do great,” you said. “We already did the most important thing right.”

“What do you mean?”

“We kept the siblings together.”

Casey shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” she mumbled.

“No, Case,” you said, your voice emphatic. “I’m definitely right. You don’t get it as much because you don’t have siblings. My siblings are my life, you know that. It would have killed me to be separated from them. And we–you–said yes to a baby, even though it’s not what you planned for, so they could stay together.”

Casey exhaled shakily and leaned her head against your shoulder. “What if we fuck up our foster kids, Y/N?”

“I mean, at least we had good intentions,” you replied, chuckling slightly.

“I’m serious!” she complained, pushing you slightly.

“Look, we’re gonna be fine. And they’re gonna be fine. You’re spiraling more than me now. We gotta pull it together.”

You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and breathing her in. You both jumped when a knock on the door interrupted your silence.

Casey stood quickly, smoothing her hair, then extending a hand to you. “Well,” she shrugged. “Here goes.”

You’d been given almost no information about the kids. All you knew was that there would be three of them, and one of them was under a year old. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t out-of-your-mind nervous. Three kids for your very first foster placement. But the bottom line was that there were three kids who needed a place to stay, where they’d be safe and loved and together. And you and Casey could provide that for as long as they needed it.

You opened the door to a very frazzled case worker with a baby on her hip, a toddler holding her hand, and another child hiding behind her back.

Casey invited them in, always better with the formalities than you, and the caseworker nearly ran to the couch, shoving the baby into your arms. Your maternal instincts, honed from years of big sisterhood, kicked in, and you quickly cradled him in your arms. You breathed him in, that specific, powdery baby smell, that reminded you so much of your brother when he was this age.

“Hi,” you cooed at him. “Hi, little man.” He immediately clenched his fists and bawled, squirming in your arms. “Okay,” you said, running a hand through his dark curls. You repositioned him so that his face was pressed into your chest and bounced him around the room.

You looked at Casey and the caseworker, who sat on the couch over a pile of paperwork. You’d never been more relieved to have a lawyer for a partner. You also smiled to notice that the toddler, a little girl, was seated in between them, sucking her thumb, and that Casey’s hand was resting on her back.

The two of you made eye contact across the room, and she furrowed her eyebrows at you, as if to ask, Are you okay? You nodded back, pressing the sobbing baby closer to your chest, and whispered, “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

The oldest child sat on the opposite end of the sectional, fiddling with a fidget spinner. Her shoulders were hunched protectively inward, hood pulled up, and she avoided your eyes as you walked closer.

“I bet you know the best ways to calm him down,” you said, sitting down next to her as the baby hiccuped in your lap, red-faced.

The older girl shot a furtive glance at you, then looked away again.

“What’s his name?” you asked.

“King,” she whispered, so quietly you almost couldn’t hear.

“King,” you repeated. “Cool name for a cool kid, huh?”

Hearing his name seemed to calm King down a bit, and he leaned into you, spent. You rubbed his back absentmindedly and turned your attention to the withdrawn girl on the edge of the couch.

“I’m Y/N,” you said. “And, uh, the lady over there is Casey. I know you probably have a lot of feelings right now, and you might be scared.” The girl tensed. “That’s okay. And you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But Casey and I are gonna make sure that you’re safe and taken care of, and we’re here for whatever you need, okay?”

She was silent for a long time, reaching out a finger to let King wrap his hand around it. You’d just about given up on any further conversation when she said, “Are you gay together?”

You grinned, trying not to laugh. “Yep. Yeah, we are.”

Her face scrunched up, like she was thinking very deeply about your relationship.

“I’m Imogen,” she finally said.

“Nice to meet you, Imogen.” She still wouldn’t look at you, but it was a start. And who were you to judge, anyway? You didn’t like eye contact either.

“She’s really pretty,” Imogen said, inclining her head toward Casey, who now held the toddler in her lap.

“She is.” You leaned in closer to Imogen, as if to tell her a secret. “I really lucked out.”

“She’s taller than you.” Day one, and Imogen was already laying it all out on the table.

“She sure is.”

“And your hair is like a boy.”

“Yep,” you said, running a hand through it.

“She likes you anyway.” You couldn’t tell if this was a question or a statement.

“Seems like it,” you confirmed, adjusting King in your lap as he snoozed. “I mean, I hope so. We live together and everything.”

“Why?” Imogen asked, finally meeting your eyes. Hers were defiant, almost angry, a dark brown that deepened in the fading light.

“Why do we live together?”

“Why does she like you?”

You grinned. Casey would die when you relayed this conversation to her later. She’d lord it over you for years.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Must be my winning personality.”

“You’re funny,” Imogen decided, scooting a little closer to you.

“Thanks,” you replied, pleased with the progress you’d made. “What’s your sister’s name?” you asked, nodding toward the toddler on Casey’s lap.

“Laylie,” Imogen groaned. “She’s annoying.”

“Yeah, I get it,” you commiserated. “I have a little sister, too.”

“She always colors everything pink.”

“You don’t like pink?”

“No,” she said, emphatically.

“Well,” you said. “We’ve got three rooms for you guys, so if you want to sleep in your own room, you can.”

Imogen squirmed. “No, I want to stay with Laylie.”

“Okay,” you assured her. “That’s fine, too.”

“Sometimes she cries at night and I have to help her stop.”

You watched as Imogen bit her fingernails. You wondered where these kids had come from, what they’d been through, why they’d ended up here, at your and Casey’s house at 4:00 pm on a Tuesday. But you wouldn’t ask. They’d tell you when they were ready.

“You’re a good sister,” you said. “But, you know, if you want to keep sleeping or if Laylie’s being annoying, you can always wake up me or Casey and we’ll help Laylie. Plus, I think she already likes Casey.” You pointed at Casey, who now stood at the door with Laylie on her hip, saying goodbye to the caseworker.

After the door shut, everything stood still for a moment. Everything would change, you realized. Everything had changed. Casey sat down in an armchair across from you, letting Laylie down to explore, and  you just looked at each other. You couldn’t say exactly what was in that look, but it was I love you and We can do this and Watching you do this makes me love you even more. You knew things wouldn’t always be easy, that tomorrow could be terrible, but you’d handle that like you handled everything: together.

“I’ve met Laylie,” Casey started. “But who else do we have here?”

“This is Imogen,” you said, gesturing to the girl next to you, who’d retreated into her sweatshirt again. “And King.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Imogen,” Casey said, sharing a glance with you to confirm that Imogen’s shyness wasn’t just for her.

You stood and stretched a bit, King limp in your arms. “Are you guys thirsty? Imogen, you want to come to the fridge and pick a drink? We’ve got juice boxes, lemonade, water, maybe even a soda or two.”

Imogen nodded. You walked over to Casey and, before she could protest, placed King firmly in her arms. “Here, hold him. What do you want? Water?”

Casey glared at you, equal parts stunned and scared. You smiled at her and shrugged. She was scared of babies, scared of how vulnerable they were, afraid to hurt them. You knew she’d have avoided holding King for as long as possible. You also knew this was ridiculous.

You rummaged through the fridge with Imogen, Laylie reaching up to you for a juice box. When you turned around to look over the kitchen island, Casey was running a finger across King’s dimpled chin. She planted a kiss on his head and smiled softly at him, and you knew it was all going to be okay.

[cocoabeloved]

GIRLS WHEN "it is literally impossible to be a woman. you are so beautiful, and so smart, and it kills me that you don't think you're good enough. like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong. you have to be thin, but not too thin. and you can never say you want to be thin. you have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. you have to have money, but you can't ask for money because that's crass. you have to be a boss, but you can't be mean. you have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas. you're supposed to love being a mother, but don't talk about your kids all the damn time. you have to be a career woman but also always be looking out for other people. you have to answer for men's bad behavior, which is insane, but if you point that out, you're accused of complaining. you're supposed to stay pretty for men, but not so pretty that you tempt them too much or that you threaten other women because you're supposed to be a part of the sisterhood. but always stand out and always be grateful. but never forget that the system is rigged. so find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful. you have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line. It's too hard! It's too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you! and it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault. i'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us. and if all of that is also true for a doll just representing women, then i don't even know.

[medics-secret-shipfic-folder]

I have been reading this fic basically nonstop , I started yesterday hating Cheavy’s guts and here I am today crying about him in chapter 12

GOOD LORD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME ☹️

YES! I'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE!

Ok all jokes aside I do want to hijack this ask to talk about something that I haven't really spoken about, and that's why I think Cheavy works so well in tbtf. It comes down to four major points that makes him sympathetic without taking away what makes Cheavy a fun character in the first place, that being his attitude and temper.

1 - Cheavy is outclassed in tbtf: In the comics, Cheavy was a threatening antagonist thanks to both his own team, his willingness to get his hands dirty, and his own underhanded fighting style. He had the upper hand for the brief period he usurped Gray Mann. But in tbtf? Cheavy is outclassed by EVERY other antagonist. The Shadow Blight, the Disciples, the DAPC, Alexander - they all outshine him in terms of their presence and how threatening they are. Cheavy is just a mercenary, the Shadow Blight and Disciples are ELDRITCH GODS. Cheavy isn't "the big bad" anymore because there's an even bigger bad to remind you what the stakes are. It's easier to sympathize with someone when there are comparatively bigger problems at hand. It's that age-old joke of "here's an incompetent villain, now here's the REAL villain to knock them down!"

2 - Cheavy is a complete wackadoodle in tbtf: Cheavy's attitude and temper are his most defining characteristics in the comics, they inform his presence as an antagonist. But in tbtf? They've been redefined as vehicles for comedy, and Cheavy is so completely out of his element that everything in the fic baffles and confuses him. And it's funny! It's funny seeing him be utterly incredulous at the Resonance Arks, its funny watching him cuss out a giant flaming salamander! And more to the point, this incredulity makes him out to be someone who is completely done with the apocalypse. He's only been here a month and he is SO sick of this shit. And there's also the implication that this man is starting to lose it a little. The other mercs have largely adjusted to the situation, but Cheavy still needs a moment to yell about his predicament. It's good! It's funny! It makes Cheavy far more endearing to the audience!

3 - Cheavy is completely pitiful in tbtf: With all that said, there's also this sense of pitiful emptiness to Cheavy. The more you read, the more you realize that Cheavy is pretty damn pathetic. He's spent most of his life endlessly fighting for survival, whether it be against his abusive father, his Golden Child siblings, fighting for the Sisterhood and BLU, or fighting for his life in the apocalypse. His life has been one long string of brawls with no real end to it. He doesn't really have a purpose beyond it and thinks that it's all he's good for - its a life that is utterly pitiful and hollow. Moreover, when you see Cheavy at his most vulnerable in chapters 13 and 17, you get to see the emotionally raw and broken man that he's been hiding for decades. When the mask of the "Big Bad Boss of BLU" slips, he has nowhere to turn to. It works to keep his characteristic attitude intact, while also giving you a glimpse into the vulnerable man underneath. Its very heartwrenching, and I've been told that these particular scenes have made several people cry over Cheavy. Its a very sensitive and sympathetic nerve to pull on. It's hard to be scared by someone who just wants one thing in life...

4 - Cheavy is utterly devoted to Cmedic: And this here is the crown jewel of the piece that makes everything work. Cheavy is COMPLETELY devoted to Cmedic to a degree that most people would find unhealthy. We've seen what Heavy's do when their Medic's are threatened, and Cheavy cranks that up tenfold. He adores Cmedic, he loves him, he can't bear to see anything happen to Cmedic. He risks life and limb for Cmedic, he throws himself in front of an eldritch god to protect him, he comforts Cmedic when he's revealed to the The Marker, he comforts Cmedic in chapter 15 in a scene that is completely heartbreaking. Cheavy would GLADLY lie down on a fucking sword for Cmedic - and this devotion informs everything about Cheavy, right down to his virtues and vices. You see how adoring and doting he is, and you wonder "what kind of person does Cmedic have to be to cause this kind of behavior?" And then you see Cmedic, and you get it. Cmedic is deeply loving, inordinately kind, and extremely passionate about everything he does. He's a delight to be around, as seen in how quickly he becomes friends with Medic and Heavy. Cmedic is wonderful, intelligent, empathetic - he's everything that Cheavy has ever wanted in his life. Cheavy loves Cmedic so much that he'd put himself in grave danger just to make the world a slightly safer place for him. Cmedic brings out the best in Cheavy, and you see that everywhere in tbtf. When Cmedic is around, Cheavy is shown to be understanding, patient, gentle, and...well, even a bit of a flirtatious goofball. We see the little irrational quirks and idiosyncrasies that make Cheavy human. You see what drives him, and you want him to be happy. You see the side of him that made Cmedic fall in love with him, and it works wonders to garner sympathy from the audience.

And this is why I think Cheavy works SO WELL in tbtf. His "bad" traits from the comics are recontextualized for comedy, but there's also plenty of quiet, serious, and touching moments with Cmedic that adds a shitton of sympathy to his character. And its the comedy that makes those serious moments hit so much harder.

Anyways, thank you for coming to my Heal and Steel Tedtalk.