#about about a completely unreleated character from a completely unreleated game in a completely different franchise

[evilsciencebox]

I was looking at the crash 2 game manual i have with how it described n gin as being a physicist and it reminded me about just how crazy smart he actually is because it’s not just physics he’d specialise in. you can add mechanics in relation to physics, engineering, computing, obviously mathematics, astrophysics considering he built space worthy crafts and weaponry so that likely includes chemistry among other things too.

he can also be a skilled musician while he's at it as well. he’s a lad with a passion for learning, ya know?

[that-spider-witch]

Leaving this "meme" that 2 or even less people will be able to understand and that no one but me will find funny here because it won't fucking leave my autistic brain.

Don't even ask, just keep scrolling.

[wiitchkins]

Main fields of mistria takeaway so far is I think.... More so than maybe any other farm-sim/harvestmoon-like since like early early harvest moon- this game places a lot of love and care on its characters & their relationships. It's a town that genuinely feels like a community, the npcs all have their own interpersonal relationships completely unrelated to you.

Repeat dialogue has been so minimal & in fact i keep getting surprised by the townies like. Talking to me about things I've done like hitting certain points in the mine, delivering certain mini-quest items to other npcs, dialogue hinting to/leading up to holidays/special events. Like reacting to my presence in the town.

Like. Even the bachelors/bachelorette have such thoroughly established friendships/relationships already that even if there was a rival system, I'd really have to rack my brain about who'd be paired with who because it could go so many ways because they all act like they know eachother for real! They're not always all in the same exact friend group either like the DnD group is different from who talks in crowds together at festivals (which is also different each festival!) or who hangs out in the evenings at someone's house or who drinks together at the inn or who etc etc!! It varies day by day! Ah! I could not even begin to figure out set schedules for these character because it does genuinely seem to vary day by day so much AND evolved as you go through the year/hit new story points... my god...

[dammit-sammit]

instructions unclear about whether we’re judging their ability to serve cunt or be a cunt here. I love them both very much but they are both pretty insecure and use picking apart other people’s insecurities as a first defence mechanism so I think if you put them in a room together, previously undiscovered heights of MLM hostility would be reached. And then they would both be sad and need a hug.

If we’re talking about *serving* cunt then I’m sorry I think this is a draw.

They are both very loveable little jerks though. OP’s decision to pit two bad bitches against each other was very cruel but very shrewd.

People who only vote for characters they recognize I rebuke thee

[cceana]

Arcane Highschool!AU

characters - vi, caitlyn, jinx, sevika, ekko, jayce and viktor content - 7.1k words, cliche highschool tropes, gn!reader, just pure fluff also a little reverse comfort

A/N this was so fun to do, cant believe i finished this in 1 day ahahahahhaah. this is my longest work yet so hopefully you guys enjoy it <3

— Star Athlete!vi and Band!reader

You’ve spent most of your high school life flying under the radar as the band’s flute player—quiet, responsible, and perfectly content in your niche. Your days revolve around early-morning rehearsals, sheet music, and the steady rhythm of practice. It’s predictable, comfortable.

That is, until the school’s star athlete, Vi, always in whispers and cheers, bursts into your life like an unrelenting storm.

Shes everything you’re not—loud, brash, impulsive, and dangerously confident. The type who winks at the crowd after scoring the winning goal, whose swagger fills the halls, and who’s constantly making headlines for their fiery outbursts on and off the field. You’ve heard the stories: the scuffle at last week’s game, the heated argument with the coach, the rumors of detention slips piling up.

You’d barely exchanged more than a few words with her, but that changes when the school decides to host a collaborative pep rally—complete with a showstopping performance featuring both the sports teams and the band.

When the coach volunteers them to help promote school spirit by playing a surprise number with the band, you’re horrified. So is she.

“I don’t have time for this,” she scoff when she gets dragged to the band room. “Why don’t you all just play louder or something?”

Your teacher assigns you the unenviable task of teaching them how to play an instrument. You can practically hear your friends giggling behind your back as you pull them aside, thrusting a trumpet into their hands.

Vi groans, slouching in her chair like a bored kid in detention. “What’s the point of this? Everyone’s here to watch me win, not play this stupid thing.”

You bristle at their cocky tone. “Well, if you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the entire school, I suggest you try.”

VI then gives you a smirk, leaning in just a little too close. “Oh, you think I can’t do it? I’m good at everything.”

It turns out, she's not.

The first few lessons are a disaster. She blow into the trumpet like she's trying to blow out a candle from across the room, their fingers fumble over the valves, and she keep snapping, “This thing is broken!” every time it makes a screeching noise.

But underneath all the bravado and eye-rolls, you start to notice something. The way she glares at the trumpet when she messes up isn’t just frustration—it’s determination. she hates failing, and she hates it even more that they’re bad at this.

“I’m not giving up,” Vi declares after her third failed attempt to hit a note. “I’m not letting some dumb piece of metal beat me.”

The more you work together, the more cracks appear in their tough exterior. she's fiercely competitive, yes, but also surprisingly quick to laugh at themselves when the trumpet sputters out the wrong notes. Her cocky grin softens when you praise even her smallest improvement, and she starts showing up to practice earlier than you do.

One afternoon, as you’re packing up your sheet music, you catch them staring at the band photo on the wall. “You guys practice this much all the time?” Vi asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“Yeah,” you say, surprised. “It’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it.”

she nod slowly, her usual swagger replaced by something contemplative. “Never thought about it like that. I guess… it’s kind of like training, huh?”

That’s when you realize she's not as invincible as she seem. Behind the hot-headed confidence is someone who works just as hard as you do, who’s just as passionate about what they love—even if they show it in a completely different way.

And when the pep rally finally arrives, with the gym packed to the rafters, she surprise's everyone—not just with how she learned to play, but with how she step aside during the performance to let the band take the spotlight.

Afterward, as the crowd cheers, she give you a lopsided grin. “Not bad, huh? Guess I’m pretty good at this whole teamwork thing.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide your smile.

The pep rally is over, and the gym is buzzing with energy as people file out, still cheering and talking about the unexpected performance. You’re gathering your things in the corner of the stage when you hear footsteps behind you.

“Hey,” she calls out, her voice softer than you’re used to.

You turn to find her standing there, holding her trumpet in one hand, the other rubbing awkwardly at the back of her neck. For once, her usual cocky smirk is nowhere to be seen, replaced by an expression that’s… almost nervous.

“Uh, so… you were pretty great out there,” she says, her eyes flickering between yours and the floor. “I mean, you’re always great, but, like, today—you really killed it.”

You blink, caught off guard by the compliment. “Thanks. You were pretty great too. You didn’t even mess up the solo.”

She laughs, a warm, genuine sound that makes your chest flutter. “Yeah, well, I had a good teacher. Guess I owe you for that.”

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Maybe. But you did the work. I’m impressed, actually. Didn’t think you’d take it so seriously.”

She steps a little closer, her usual confidence creeping back into her voice. “Yeah? So, I impressed you?”

Your face heats up, and you roll your eyes to hide it. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” she teases, but her grin softens as her gaze lingers on you. For a moment, neither of you says anything. The noise of the gym fades into the background, and all you can hear is the faint hum of your own heartbeat.

She looks down at the trumpet in her hand, turning it over like she’s stalling. “You know… I used to think band stuff was just… background noise. Like, nobody really notices it. But being up there, seeing how much you guys put into it…”

Her voice trails off, and when she looks back at you, there’s something in her eyes that makes it hard to breathe. “It made me notice you more.”

Your breath catches. “Me?”

“Yeah.” She takes another step closer, so close now that you can feel the warmth radiating off her. “You’re not just some quiet band geek who hangs out in the background. You’re… amazing. And I’ve been an idiot for not seeing it sooner.”

You open your mouth to reply, but the words get stuck in your throat. She’s staring at you like you’re the only person in the world, and for the first time, you don’t feel small or invisible. You feel seen.

“I know I’ve been kind of… impossible,” she continues, her voice dropping lower. “But I don’t want to screw this up. So if I asked you to, I don’t know, grab milkshakes or something sometime… what would you say?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “I’d say… as long as you don’t try to play the trumpet during the date, I might say yes.”

Her laugh is loud and bright, and before you know it, she’s grinning down at you. “Deal.”

The gym lights flicker as the janitor starts cleaning up, and you realize you’ve been standing there for what feels like forever. But as she walks you out, her shoulder brushing against yours, you can’t help but think that maybe this impulsive, hot-headed star athlete isn’t so bad after all.

— Childhood Bestfriend!caitlyn

You and Caitlyn were inseparable once, two halves of the same whole. Summers were spent running through sun-drenched fields, plotting grand adventures, and swearing eternal friendship under the stars. But that was years ago, before her family moved away to chase bigger opportunities, and you were left behind with only memories of her bright laugh and unshakable confidence.

Life moved on, and so did you. By high school, she’d become little more than a bittersweet memory. Until now.

When she walks into your homeroom on the first day of senior year, it feels like the air’s been knocked out of you. She’s taller now, with an effortless grace that makes the room go quiet. Her uniform looks somehow sharper on her, her long, dark hair falling in perfect waves. There’s something in the way she carries herself—poised and self-assured, like she owns the world—and maybe she does.

Her family name has become a symbol of power and wealth. She’s been in the headlines, her achievements as a youth advocate already earning her a reputation as a fierce voice for justice. And yet, when her gaze scans the room and lands on you, her face lights up with the same brilliant smile you remember from childhood.

“Hey,” she says as she slides into the empty seat beside you, her voice low and familiar. “Long time no see.”

You’re too stunned to do anything but nod.

You quickly learn that she’s not just here for nostalgia—she’s here with a purpose. Between rigorous AP classes, she’s working on a project to bring awareness to systemic issues in your town. Meetings, interviews, and late nights at the library seem to be her norm, and it doesn’t take long for her to rope you into helping.

At first, it feels surreal being around her again. The girl you once knew has grown into someone so driven, so ambitious, that it’s almost intimidating. She seems untouchable, like a shooting star too far away to reach.

But every now and then, the cracks in her polished armor show. When it’s just the two of you poring over notes at your kitchen table, she leans back with a sigh and pulls her hair into a ponytail, muttering about how she wishes she had more time to breathe. And when you laugh at her frustrations, she throws a crumpled piece of paper at you, her grin wide and mischievous.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” she says one evening, her eyes soft as they meet yours. “Still the only person who can make me laugh when I want to scream.”

It’s during one of these late-night sessions that the air between you shifts. You’re sitting on the floor of her family’s impossibly grand living room, surrounded by papers and laptops. She’s wearing a sweatshirt that’s too big for her, a far cry from the polished image she presents to the world, and you can’t help but think about how beautiful she looks like this—unguarded and real.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” she says, tilting her head to look at you. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” you lie, your heart racing under her gaze.

She raises an eyebrow, leaning closer. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying.”

You hesitate, your pulse hammering in your ears. “It’s just… I can’t believe you’re here. That after all these years, we’re… us again.”

Her expression softens, and she shifts closer until your knees are almost touching. “I’ve missed you too, you know,” she says quietly. “It’s been so hard, being away from everything I used to care about. From you.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy and electric. You want to say something—anything—but the way she’s looking at you steals the breath from your lungs. Her dark eyes search yours, and for a moment, the world seems to still.

“Do you ever think about those nights we spent under the stars?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, swallowing hard. “All the time.”

“I do too,” she admits, her hand reaching out to brush against yours. Her touch is warm, grounding, and yet it sends a jolt through you. “Back then, I always thought we’d have forever. And when I left, I realized how much I hated being wrong about that.”

You’re not sure who moves first, but suddenly the space between you disappears. Her hand lingers on yours, her thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin, and you’re acutely aware of how close her face is to yours.

“Tell me if this is okay,” she murmurs, her voice trembling just slightly.

You nod, barely able to speak. “It’s more than okay.”

And then her lips are on yours, soft and hesitant at first, like she’s afraid you’ll pull away. But you don’t. You lean into her, your hand sliding up to tangle in her hair, and the kiss deepens—sweet and full of years’ worth of unspoken feelings.

When you finally pull back, she rests her forehead against yours, a breathless smile on her lips. “I’ve waited so long to do that,” she says, her voice tinged with relief.

“Me too,” you whisper, your heart soaring.

As the night stretches on, you realize that the girl you thought you’d lost has come back into your life, not as the same person she once was, but as someone even more extraordinary. And for the first time in years, the future doesn’t feel so uncertain—it feels full of possibilities, with her by your side.

— New kid!jinx and Class president!reader

You’ve worked hard to get where you are. Every meeting attended, every speech prepared, every carefully crafted decision—it’s all been for the sake of keeping order in the chaos of your high school. As class president, your name carries weight. You’re the dependable one, the one who keeps everything running smoothly, the one who always has things under control.

Until Jinx shows up.

The whispers start on her first day. The new girl. The one who doesn’t seem to care about blending in. She strides into the building like she owns it, her uniform already disheveled, her blazer slung over her shoulder, and a wild grin on her face.

It doesn’t take long for her reputation to spread. She’s unpredictable, impulsive, and utterly magnetic. Within a week, she’s already broken half the school’s rules, talked her way out of three detentions, and somehow charmed half your classmates in the process.

And for some reason, she’s decided you’re her favorite target.

It happens during lunch. You’re sitting at your usual spot, surrounded by student council members, going over plans for the upcoming fundraiser when she walks up to your table.

“Class president,” she says, her voice dripping with mockery and something else you can’t quite place. “Mind if I join you?”

You glance up, already annoyed. “I’m busy.”

She smirks, pulling out a chair anyway. “That’s cute. You think I was asking.”

Your friends exchange uneasy glances, but she doesn’t seem to care. She leans back in the chair, her sharp pink eyes locked on you, as if she’s trying to unravel you with her gaze alone.

“You’ve got a real stick-up-your-ass vibe,” she says casually, plucking an apple from the tray in front of her. “I like that. It makes messing with you way more fun.”

You glare at her, trying to keep your composure. “Do you need something, or are you just here to waste my time?”

Her grin widens, and for a moment, you see a flicker of something wild and untamed in her expression. “Maybe I just like watching you squirm.”

She becomes a constant in your life after that. You find her waiting outside your classroom, lounging against your locker, or casually walking into student council meetings as if she belongs there.

“Do you ever stop?” you snap one afternoon, cornering her in the hallway after she’s disrupted yet another meeting.

“Stop what?” she asks innocently, tilting her head.

“Whatever game you’re playing.”

She steps closer, and for the first time, you notice just how intense her gaze is. “Who says it’s a game? Maybe I just like you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and electric, and before you can respond, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving you standing there, utterly baffled.

It’s not until much later that you start to see the cracks in her chaotic facade. One night, you find her sitting alone in the empty music room, the piano keys beneath her fingers. She’s not playing, just pressing random notes, her usual manic energy replaced by a quiet stillness.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say, stepping into the room.

She doesn’t look up. “Neither should you.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. Then she sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I bet you think I’m crazy.”

You hesitate, caught off guard by the vulnerability in her voice. “I think you’re reckless and impulsive and… exhausting. But no, I don’t think you’re crazy.”

She finally looks up at you, her eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. “You’re too nice for your own good, you know that?”

“I’m not nice,” you counter. “I just… I think there’s more to you than the act you put on.”

Her lips twitch into a small, almost shy smile. “Careful, president. You keep saying things like that, and I might start to believe you.”

The more time you spend around her, the more you realize how deeply she feels everything. Her chaos isn’t just for show—it’s a shield, a way to keep people from getting too close. But with you, she starts to let her guard down.

One evening, she shows up outside your house, her hair messy and her eyes wild. “Come with me,” she says, grabbing your hand.

“Where are we going?” you ask, letting her drag you down the street.

“Anywhere,” she replies, her grip tight. “Everywhere. I don’t care.”

You end up at the park, sitting on a swingset as the stars blink overhead. She’s unusually quiet, her hands gripping the chains tightly as she stares at the ground.

“You ever feel like you’re spinning out of control?” she asks suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You glance at her, surprised by the question. “Sometimes.”

She exhales shakily, her fingers brushing against yours. “You… you make it stop. Just for a little while.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you don’t know if it’s the raw honesty in her words or the way her fingers linger against yours, but you feel something shift between you.

It happens later that night, as you’re walking her home. She stops in front of her house, turning to face you with an unreadable expression.

“Why do you put up with me?” she asks suddenly, her voice soft.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“I’m a mess,” she says, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I break things, I hurt people… I’m not like you. I’m not good.”

“You’re not perfect,” you admit, stepping closer. “But you’re not as bad as you think you are, either.”

She looks up at you, her eyes shining with something you can’t quite name. “You’re going to regret saying that.”

“Maybe,” you say with a small smile. “But I don’t think so.”

Before you can overthink it, you lean in, your lips brushing against hers. She freezes for a moment, like she’s caught off guard, but then she kisses you back, her hands clutching at your sleeves as if you’re the only solid thing in her world.

When you finally pull back, her face is flushed, and she’s breathing hard. “You’re insane,” she mutters, though there’s no heat in her words.

“Takes one to know one,” you reply, grinning.

She laughs, the sound light and genuine, and for the first time, you feel like you’ve truly seen her—every broken, beautiful piece of her.

—Troublemaker!sevika and Tutor!reader

You weren’t thrilled when your teacher assigned you as her tutor. You’d heard all the rumors: skipped classes, biting comebacks that left people reeling, and a permanent spot on the troublemaker watchlist.

Her reputation painted her as unteachable, untamable, and entirely uninterested in anything resembling authority. When your teacher insisted she “just needed guidance,” you couldn’t help but feel skeptical.

The first session confirmed it.

She slouched into the library ten minutes late, her bag dragging on the floor, and dropped into the chair across from you with a loud huff.

“Look,” she said before you could even greet her, “I don’t need some perfect little know-it-all telling me what to do.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I’m just here to help.”

“Sure,” she scoffed, leaning back in her chair. “Let’s get this over with.”

Her tone was cutting, her expression bored, and yet… there was something about her. A quiet intensity lurking beneath the surface, like she was daring you to break through her tough exterior.

Each session felt like a test of patience. She was sharp, no question about it, but her attitude made every interaction a battle.

“You’re not even trying,” you said one afternoon after she tossed her pen aside for the third time.

Her eyes snapped to yours, hard and unyielding. “Don’t act like you know me,” she said coldly. “You think I don’t try? You think I don’t bust my ass every single day?”

You froze, startled by the edge in her voice.

She leaned forward, her gaze cutting through you like a blade. “I don’t need this. I don’t need you. I’m here because they told me to be.”

For a moment, you considered walking away. But then you saw it—just the faintest flicker of something vulnerable beneath her defiance.

“You’re right,” you said, keeping your voice calm. “I don’t know you. But I know you’re capable of more than this.”

Her jaw tightened, and she looked away, her fingers drumming on the table. “Whatever,” she muttered.

But she didn’t leave.

Slowly, things started to shift. She showed up on time—barely. She started taking notes—reluctantly. And every so often, she’d let her tough exterior slip, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the real her.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling session, you handed her a worksheet.

“You’re getting better,” you said, offering her a small smile.

She snorted. “Don’t get all sentimental on me.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying you’re improving.”

“Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath for a thank-you card,” she replied, but there was a hint of a smirk on her lips.

Her walls were still up, but they were starting to crack.

It happened on a rare quiet day in the library. She was hunched over her notebook, her brow furrowed as she worked through a particularly tricky problem.

“Got it,” she said suddenly, sitting up straight.

“Really?” you asked, leaning over to check her work.

She shoved the notebook toward you, her smirk firmly in place. “Told you I’m not dumb.”

“I never said you were dumb,” you replied, meeting her gaze. “You just make things harder than they need to be.”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe I like a challenge.”

“Or maybe you’re just stubborn,” you teased.

Her smirk softened, just for a moment. “Takes one to know one, princess.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the way she said it, her voice low and almost… fond.

After weeks of late afternoons spent together, you found yourself walking her home one evening. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the quiet streets.

“You’re not as bad as I thought,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You blinked, surprised. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Don’t push your luck,” she shot back, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

When you reached her house, she stopped at the gate, turning to face you. Her usual confidence wavered, just slightly.

“Why do you bother with me?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

“Because I see how hard you work,” you said honestly. “And because I think there’s more to you than what you let people see.”

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without warning, she stepped closer, her hand brushing yours.

“You’re a real pain, you know that?” she murmured, her voice soft but firm.

Before you could respond, she leaned in, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was as bold and unapologetic as she was.

When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, but her smirk was firmly in place.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she said, turning toward her door.

You smiled, your heart racing. “Too late."

—Artist!ekko and Muse!reader

It was one of those golden autumn afternoons, the kind where the sunlight made everything look softer, warmer, like it belonged in a painting. You’d escaped to the park during your lunch break, clutching a well-worn book in one hand and a coffee in the other. It wasn’t the first time you’d come here for a little peace and quiet, but it felt like one of the rare times you’d actually get it.

You settled on a bench near the fountain, a cozy corner of the park where the only sounds were the gentle trickle of water and the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

The moment you opened your book, however, you felt it—a faint, almost electric sensation prickling at the edge of your awareness. Someone was watching you.

Glancing up, you spotted him.

He was sitting on the grass a few yards away, sketchpad balanced on his knees, pencil flying across the page. His hair fell messily across his forehead, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to reveal forearms speckled with faint smears of paint. Despite the chaos of his appearance, his focus was absolute, his gaze darting between you and the paper as if you were some rare discovery he couldn’t afford to lose.

You furrowed your brow, unsure whether to feel flattered or alarmed. “Can I help you?” you called, your voice cutting through the quiet.

He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and stood quickly.

“Sorry,” he said, striding toward you. “I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

His voice was smooth, tinged with an earnestness that made it hard to stay annoyed.

“I’m an artist,” he explained, gesturing to his sketchpad. “I know this sounds weird, but you’ve got this… look. The way you’re sitting, the way the light hits you—it’s perfect.”

“Perfect?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“For a piece I’m working on,” he clarified, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Do you mind if I sketch you? Just for a little while.”

You hesitated, studying him. He didn’t look like a creep—just young, maybe a little unkempt, with an intensity in his eyes that was hard to ignore.

“I’m not really dressed for a portrait,” you said, gesturing to your casual sweater and jeans.

He smiled, and the way his face softened surprised you. “It’s not about the clothes. It’s the way you carry yourself.”

The compliment was unexpected, and it caught you off guard. “Alright,” you said slowly. “But just for a few minutes.”

“Great,” he said, dropping to the bench across from you with a grin that felt like the sun breaking through the clouds

It turned out he was a prodigy, a young artist with a growing reputation in the city. His work had been featured in galleries, and he’d even won a few prestigious awards. But for all his talent, he was surprisingly down-to-earth.

“I don’t really like the whole ‘genius’ label,” he admitted one afternoon after convincing you to pose for him again. “It just makes people think I’ve got everything figured out. But most of the time, I’m just trying to keep up with my own ideas.”

You quickly realized that his art wasn’t just a skill—it was his lifeline. He spoke about it the way others might talk about breathing. And for some reason, he’d decided that you were his muse.

“Why me?” you asked one day as he sketched you in his studio. The walls were covered with half-finished canvases, each one brimming with vivid colors and raw emotion.

He glanced up from his sketchbook, his eyes soft but focused. “You’ve got something about you,” he said simply. “A kind of… light. I can’t explain it, but when I see you, I want to create.”

His honesty was disarming. There was no pretense in his words, no calculated charm. He spoke as though his heart was an open book, and every word was written in your honor.

“Do you say that to all your muses?” you teased, trying to lighten the moment.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I’ve never had one before you.”

As time went on, you got to know him beyond his talent. He was fiercely independent, refusing to rely on anyone for his success. His compassion, however, was what surprised you most. He spent his weekends teaching art classes at a local youth center, his eyes lighting up as he helped kids discover their own creativity.

“They’ve got so much potential,” he said once, his voice filled with quiet pride. “They just need someone to believe in them.”

It was clear that he poured himself into everything he did, whether it was a painting, a lesson, or simply spending time with you.

One evening, he invited you to his studio after hours. The space was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of paint and turpentine.

“I want to show you something,” he said, guiding you to the center of the room where a large canvas stood covered by a cloth.

With a dramatic flourish, he pulled the cloth away, revealing a breathtaking painting. It was you—your pose, your expression, every detail captured with such tenderness that it felt like staring into a mirror of your soul.

“Is that… me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his gaze steady. “It’s not just you,” he said softly. “It’s how I see you. Strong, radiant… inspiring.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“It’s beautiful,” you said finally, your voice thick with emotion.

“So are you,” he replied, his lips curling into a small, genuine smile.

There was no grand confession, no dramatic moment where everything changed. Instead, your relationship grew in quiet, unspoken ways. The way he brought you coffee when you visited his studio. The way he asked for your opinion on his work, genuinely valuing your thoughts. The way his hand would brush against yours when he passed you a sketchbook, his touch lingering just a second too long.

One day, as you sat together in the park where you’d first met, he turned to you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, “I’m not sure I’d be able to do this without you.”

“Do what?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Create,” he replied simply. “You make it… easier to believe in myself.”

You smiled, your heart fluttering at his honesty. “I think you’d do just fine on your own.”

“Maybe,” he said, his gaze never leaving yours. “But I don’t want to.”

—Bestfriend!jayce

The two of you had been inseparable for as long as you could remember. From elementary school to your final year of high school, your lives had been stitched together with countless shared moments—late-night study sessions, chaotic group projects, and lazy afternoons spent at the local diner. You were the grounded one, the planner, while he was the dreamer.

He was everything you admired in a person: ambitious, creative, and unrelentingly passionate about making the world a better place. Whether he was organizing a charity event for the school or advocating for a greener campus, he didn’t just talk about change—he embodied it.

“Alright, hear me out,” he said one afternoon as you sat in your favorite spot in the school library. His voice was alive with energy, his words spilling out faster than you could process them.

You glanced up from your notes, already bracing yourself. “This is going to be another one of your big ideas, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” he said with a grin. “It’s what I do best.”

He leaned forward, spreading out a sketchbook filled with colorful doodles and bold handwriting. Each page was a mix of blueprints, campaign slogans, and notes for an initiative he wanted to pitch to the student council.

“I’m telling you, if we can pull this off, it could really make a difference. We could partner with local businesses, raise money for community programs, and even involve the younger students—”

“You’re going a hundred miles an hour again,” you interrupted gently, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Not when I’m onto something good,” he replied without missing a beat.

That was him in a nutshell: a whirlwind of ideas and determination, always moving forward. It was both inspiring and exhausting to keep up with him, but somehow, you always did.

For all his big ideas and boundless enthusiasm, he had a softer side too—a side he reserved just for you.

One Friday night, he showed up outside your house, honking his car horn until you came outside in your pajamas.

“What are you doing?” you hissed, glancing around to make sure your neighbors weren’t watching.

“Get in,” he said with a grin, leaning out of the driver’s side window. “I need your opinion on something.”

“You’re insane,” you muttered, but you climbed into the passenger seat anyway.

He drove to a quiet hill on the outskirts of town, parking near an old tree you’d both claimed as “your spot” years ago. He pulled out a notebook from his bag and handed it to you.

“These are my ideas for the youth outreach program,” he said. “I need to know if I’m being too ambitious.”

You flipped through the pages, your heart warming as you saw the effort he’d poured into every word and sketch.

“This is incredible,” you said softly. “You’re not just ambitious—you’re inspiring. People are going to listen to you.”

He looked at you, his expression unreadable. “You really think so?”

“Always,” you said, your voice firm.

For a split second, you thought he might reach out to take your hand, but instead, he leaned back, staring up at the stars. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

After particularly grueling school days, he’d find you at your locker, holding out your favorite drink or snack without a word. When the stress of finals hit, he’d sit beside you in the library, quietly working through his own assignments while offering words of encouragement.

And then there were the moments when his usual confidence wavered.

“Do you think I’m crazy?” he asked one evening as you sat on the hood of his car, staring up at the stars.

The two of you had just spent hours planning his latest project, a school-wide fundraiser for a local shelter. Despite his ambitious plans, his voice was quieter now, almost hesitant.

“You? Crazy?” you teased, nudging him playfully. “Absolutely.”

He laughed softly, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t completely fade.

“Seriously, though,” he said, turning to you. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m aiming too high. Like, what if I can’t actually pull all this off? What if I fail?”

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You won’t fail. You’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. And even if something doesn’t work out the way you planned, it doesn’t mean you failed. It just means you’re brave enough to try again.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, the air between you felt heavier, charged with something unspoken.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The moment lingered, and as he pulled back, his hands stayed on your shoulders. His gaze searched yours, and for the first time, you saw a vulnerability there that he usually kept hidden.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for a while now,” he began, his voice soft but steady.

Your breath caught. “What is it?”

“I don’t just care about you as a friend,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I mean, I do, but it’s more than that. You’ve always been my anchor, the one person who gets me, who believes in me even when I doubt myself.”

Your heart raced, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. “I think I’ve always felt the same way,” you said quietly.

Relief washed over his face, followed by a smile so genuine it made your chest ache.

“Then we’re in this together,” he said, reaching for your hand. “Like always.”

From that day on, your friendship transformed into something deeper, something stronger. His dreams grew bigger, but now, they weren’t just his—they were yours too. Together, you were unstoppable, a team bound by shared passion and a love that had been years in the making.

Whether it was planning for college or brainstorming ways to change the world, one thing was certain: with him by your side, anything felt possible.

—Enemies to lovers!viktor and reader

From the moment the new kid transferred to your school, it was as if the universe had dropped a puzzle piece into the wrong spot. He was a contradiction: introverted yet razor-sharp in class discussions, quiet but with an undercurrent of passion that seemed to burst through in unexpected moments. His snarky comebacks and aloof demeanor were practically tailor-made to clash with your confident, no-nonsense approach to everything.

You couldn’t help but notice how he kept his distance from everyone else, often retreating to the farthest corner of the library or lab. Despite his unassuming presence, he somehow managed to infuriate you with his brilliance. Teachers fawned over him, classmates whispered about him, and you? You glared daggers at him every time he raised his hand in class to counter one of your arguments.

The first real confrontation happened in science class. It was a group project, and your teacher, in a cruel twist of fate, paired you with him.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath.

He barely glanced at you as he set down his notebook, already flipping through its pages. “It’s not my favorite pairing either, but let’s just get this done.”

His tone was clipped, and his eyes barely met yours.

“Oh, so we’re starting with passive-aggressive remarks? Good to know where we stand,” you shot back, folding your arms.

He sighed, finally looking at you. “Look, I don’t care if you like me or not. I care about getting an A on this project. If you want to argue, fine, but at least do it while we’re running the experiment.”

His bluntness took you off guard, and for a moment, you were speechless. But you quickly recovered, rolling your eyes. “Fine. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you take over.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he muttered under his breath, already scribbling in his notebook.

Working together was like a storm brewing in slow motion. You were both stubborn and headstrong, constantly butting heads over the smallest details.

“Why are you doing it that way?” you snapped one afternoon as he adjusted the settings on the experiment’s apparatus.

“Because it’s the correct way,” he replied without looking up.

“You didn’t even let me explain my idea!”

“Your idea would’ve blown up the circuit.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“Let me guess—you’re the kind of person who thinks trial and error is the only way to learn?”

He finally turned to face you, a faint smirk playing at his lips “And you’re the kind of person who thinks you’re always right,”

The tension crackled like static electricity, but neither of you backed down.

It wasn’t until a late-night study session in the empty library that things started to shift. The project deadline was looming, and you’d reluctantly agreed to meet outside of school to finish your work.

He was unusually quiet that night, his usual snark absent as he stared intently at the data on his laptop.

“Hey,” you said, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

He hesitated, his fingers pausing on the keyboard. “Just tired. And frustrated. I want this to be perfect.”

Something in his tone softened your usual defensiveness. “You know, it doesn’t have to be perfect. You’re allowed to mess up sometimes.”

He gave a faint, humorless laugh. “Not really. Not when people are counting on me.”

The vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard. For the first time, you saw past the walls he’d built around himself—the pressure he carried, the weight of expectations.

“I didn’t realize you were dealing with so much,” you said quietly.

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Why would you? We’ve been too busy trying to outsmart each other.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Fair point. Maybe we should call a truce—for now.”

He smiled, just barely, and it was the first time you’d seen him let his guard down.

As the project progressed, the two of you started to find common ground. You discovered his love for science wasn’t just about theories and equations—it was about helping people.

“Why are you so passionate about this?” you asked one day as he carefully calibrated a piece of equipment.

He hesitated, then said, “Because I want to make a difference. I has a chronic illness, and I’ve spent years struggling with treatments that barely work. I want to change that for me, and for anyone else going through the same thing.”

His words hit you like a punch to the chest. You’d always thought of him as cold and detached, but now, you saw the fire that drove him.

“That’s… incredible,” you said softly.

He shrugged, his cheeks tinged with color. “It’s just what I care about. What about you? What drives you?”

You hesitated, caught off guard by the question. But as you opened up about your own dreams and ambitions, you realized something had shifted between you.

On the night before the project was due, you were sitting in his garage, putting the final touches on your presentation. It was late, and the two of you were running on caffeine and adrenaline.

“Here,” he said, handing you a mug of tea. “You’re going to burn out if you keep pushing yourself.”

“Look who’s talking,” you teased, taking the mug.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the garage filling the space.

“You’re not so bad, you know,” he said suddenly, his voice low.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that your idea of a compliment?”

He smiled faintly, looking down at his hands. “I mean it. I’ve never met anyone who challenges me the way you do. It’s… refreshing.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you looked away, pretending to focus on the data. “Well, don’t get used to it. I’m not going easy on you just because you’re finally being nice.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said, and there was a softness in his tone that made your heart race.

[grims-local-pkmn-irl-hub]

How to Write Engaging Anons

I’ve spoken to a lot of people behind close doors and we have all come to a realization: PKMN IRL as a community isn’t the greatest at sending engaging anons,,,

A lot of anons tend to get off track from what the blog runner is trying to do or will send completely unrelated anons during a plot moment on someones blog which can be incredibly frustrating for the blog runner.

So, I’ve decided to compile a little “guide” to help.

Look over the recent posts of a blog to see if they’re doing anything that could be considered plot relevant before sending an anon. Are they vague posting about something? Did they cut off a tangent too short? Did they mention they have stories to share if anyone wants them? Did they say something off or slightly concerning? ASK ABOUT IT! Ask them to elaborate! Ask for more detail!

Try and keep asks on task if a plot hook/point is currently happening. It is incredibly discouraging for a blog runner to see the notif for an anon only to open it and it have nothing to do with what they are currently trying to reveal/be engaged with. Do not latch onto a bit like your life depends on it because you are most likely just tiring out the blog runner who just wants to share interesting character/story info. Bits have a time and a place.

Don’t have a character that would realistically send that anon? Then don’t send it as that character, send it as yourself. The blog runner and character will not know the difference. This also has an added benefit of baiting a character into talking about something you know your character can then interact with. Anons are great for interaction in more ways than just asks.

Worried someone already sent the ask you’re about to send? SEND IT ANYWAYS! A blog runner would much prefer two of asks of generally the same question than zero asks! And it shows that people care enough to ask that question twice! It gives the blog runner something to think about when writing!

Don’t have any idea of what anon to send without an ask game? SEND THE SUPER “BASIC” ONES! I promise you that very basic questions like “how do feel about this”, “why do you say that”, “you mentioned [this], can you elaborate more” ARE LOVED BY BLOG RUNNERS!!! So much can be understood about a character’s mental state or attitude depending on how they choose to answer these questions. They’re “basic” and “overused” because they are really good questions to ask!

Try and engage critically with a character! Remember! This is an RP community! We are playing these characters as if they are real so you need to treat them like people! For example: Telling a very clearly mentally ill character that their thought process isn’t healthy and that they should just go to therapy isn’t the most helpful anon and it especially isn’t when that seems to be all the blog runner gets when they’re character gets like that. A good way to try and engage critically is to ask similar questions as above such as “why do you think that” along with some others like “can you walk me through your thought process”, “do you know when you started acting/thinking like this”, etc.

IC Hate Anons. These anons are fun and good! They can be very useful for story telling and showing off certain aspects of a character! They can also be super draining especially when that seems to be all that a character gets when trying to do plot hooks/points. It can make a blog runner’s motivation wane and deplete when all it ever seems like is that anons want to use their character as a punching bag. A good way to negate this is if you send an IC hate anon is to quickly follow it up with an anon that’s trying to engage critically and is asking questions and treating the character as a person. This allows for a blog runner to have choices on whether they want their character to be a punching bag right now and get beat down or would rather follow the anons line of questioning.

Ask games. I know I’m beating a dead horse here but SEND AN ASK TO THE PERSON YOU ARE REBLOGGING FROM. The blog runner will see you reblogging it from them and be waiting for an ask to come in and then it never does. Send an ask. They are literally pre-written most of the time. Okay that’s all I have to say here. 👍

Make sure the anon has some sort of substance. Even when sending anons outside of plot periods make sure the anon has something the character and blog runner can actually feasibly answer. One word anons that are just “yeah” or “okay” are incredibly difficult to respond to. So is randomly being sent quotes or things that just generally have nothing to do with the blog or pokemon in general. People have an easier time when being sent asks about their character’s pokemon, family, friends, most recent stupid post, etc. I have about 40 anons rotting in my inbox for @/espers-n-espurrs because they have nothing to respond to. And this isn’t to say silly/dumb anons shouldn’t be a thing. They should be but they should also be something someone could reasonably reply with besides just replying with “why the fuck did you send me this”.

In all, remember you are not only engaging with a character and their story but you are also engaging with a blog runner. You may never know their name or have a one on one conversation with them but the asks you send their characters do have an effect on the blog runner.

Show that you are engaging with their character, show that you care about the story they are trying to tell.

Reblogs are important for interaction but in my mind asks are the backbone of this community. A good ask and a good response allows for a good chance for others to be able to interact with the response IC.

But yeah, remember, the blog runner is still there behind that screen, you are still interacting with them when you interact with their character. Give them something to work with when you send an ask.

[sharpth1ng]

how do you envision billy and stu’s bedrooms? cause every scene in my head it’s completely different to how it was in the last and i need to have the same thought whenever a scene comes across in one of their bedrooms

^^Alright so I have actually drawn Billy's room! this is the background of a piece that will be on my patreon once i feel like i have enough content to actually launch it. I wouldn't say this is exactly canon, I started working on it before I started writing Debaser and there's some stuff i would switch up, like some of the movie posters. There's also the non-canon Maureen VHS which they obv don't have because they didn't film that. But yeah this is a basic idea of what Billy's room looks like to me.

As best as I can tell this is the bedroom they shot as Stu's room.

^^As you can see it has a ridiculous number of doors, and we know the door to the attic is behind the camera because that's where Sidney goes during the chase. We also know the two doors on the left side lead into the hallway, again because of the chase scene. The door on the right I'm going to guess leads into a bathroom, because another door leading to the hallway or into another room would be sheer insanity. This one bedroom has four fucking doors and none of them seem to lead to a closet.

^^^From the movie we can see more of the right side of the room. There appears to be a fireplace mantel, likely bricked off and not functional. Stu is using it as a shelf, it looks like there's some tapes and maybe a trophy there. We can also see his TV and some posters on the wall- someone has made a post where they identified these posters but I can't find it rn (thank you tumblr's broken search function). If anyone knows the post I'm talking about please feel free to link it!

^^^There's also at least three things that look like they could be one of Billy's flannels in this room. We never see Stu wearing blue or plaid in the movie and imo from his costuming it doesn't seem like his style so this detail is pretty funny to me. Billy is just leaving his repetitive wardrobe all over Stu's room. Gee I wonder why.

So that's basically Stu's room in the movie. The way I see it in Debaser is a little bit different, but in many ways the same. First big difference: a maximum of three doors. One to the hall, one to the bathroom and one to the attic storage space. Two doors to the hallway just feels homophobic. Another difference is that I imagine his TV somewhere at the foot of the bed, just makes for a much more comfortable watching experience.

I also imagine him with a lot more on the walls.

^^^Chip Sutphin's (also a Matthew lillard character) room from Serial Mom is a good example with all the Fangoria posters and stuff. Imo Stu is definitely reading fangoria.

(Unrelated side note can I just say i can’t see Chip's girlfriend Birdie without seeing pre-transition Billy. The Blue plaid, the short brown hair, the horror obsession) ⬇️

Like, this is Chips girlfriend and best friend. This movie came out in 1994. I can't. ⬇️

Ok, side note adjourned, back to Stu's bedroom.

Overall I see it as a lot more packed and messy than Billy's. There's more on the walls and more on the floor. I also think he's got a big ass shelf of tapes and video games, and probably some leftover action figures from when he was a kid. I think he kept more of his childhood stuff like that than Billy did. He doesn't play with his action figures anymore obv, but he hasn't thrown them out.

So yeah, that's sort of an idea what their rooms look like in my mind! I do plan on drawing Stu's room at some point but these kinds of detailed room drawings take me so much time, I'm not sure exactly when that will happen.

Edit: Ps you can read what’s written in the notebook in Billys room, please do

[agaypanic]

My Babysitter's a Vampire Simp Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

***

Benny

Casts spells all the time just to see you smile

FLOWERS!!! So many flowers, conjured at any moment

Your locker becomes a garden tbh

Would do anything for you

If you need help, he’s there in a heartbeat

If you have a problem that can’t be fixed with a spell, he’d probably try to create his own

Favorite pastime is playing games with you

Especially when you’re playing in his room because, more often than not, you’re sitting on his lap

Your guys’ favorite game to play is Minecraft

���Y/n, where are you?” Benny asked as he built a house for the two of you.

“I’m on the other side of the hill.”

“Why are you so far away? It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“This side has more flowers.” He looked at your screen, and sure enough, you were picking flowers in a field. “The house has to be pretty.”

“Y/n, I dunno how to make the house look like you.” Benny pinched your side with his teasing and you giggled, squirming around in his lap. He kissed your temple before going in to start putting structures inside the house. “Now get over here before I have to go get you.” 

Reluctantly, you left the field and made your way to the house. Making sure to close the door behind you, you ventured inside and found Benny’s character in the bedroom.

“Aww! You put the beds next to each other.”

Rory

BIGGEST SIMP OF ALL TIME I SWEAR

The second he sees you, he’s a goner

Benny and Ethan gotta pull him down bc he starts floating

Carries all your stuff without you asking

Walks you to class all the time, even if his class is on the other side of the school

Saves a seat for you at lunch even tho it’s your unassigned assigned seat at the table

Practically has heart eyes anytime he looks at you

Talks about you all the time to his friends

They could be talking about something completely different, but he’s determined to make you the topic of conversation whenever he can

“Oh my gosh, that reminds me of the time Y/n…” and the two things will be COMPLETELY unrelated

You immediately spotted your boyfriend and your friends by your locker when you got to school. Rory seemed to be going off on some tangent, and it must’ve been going on too long because the others looked like they were about to murder him or themselves. To spare your friends, you walked fast to meet them. Rory sensed you before you could speak, turning to look at you with vampire swiftness.

“Y/n!” He looked at you like a puppy who hadn’t seen its owner in hours. When you were close enough, he peppered your face in kisses, much to the group’s disgust.

“Hey, Rory.” You laughed when he eased up on the affection, moving to greet everyone else. “Hey, guys.” They replied with their own greetings while you opened your locker. With each book you took out, Rory immediately took it from you without saying a word. “Rory, baby, you don’t have to.”

“Oh, but I insist, honeybunch.” The warning bell rang, and everyone dispersed. Rory walked you to your first period, something he did every day without fail.

“Okay, you better go. I don’t want you to be late.”

“Don’t worry, sweet thing. That’s what superspeed is for.”

“Superspeed you shouldn’t be using in public.” You took your books from Rory and gave him a kiss to tide him over for the next hour. “See you after class?”

“Always, baby.”

Ethan

Soooo nervous about being around you

Whenever he touched you, he’d get visions of the two of you together

That just made him fall harder for you

Makes flirty remarks based on his powers

“I had a vision we made out” kinda stuff

Memorizes everything about you

He believes every detail is important

Whenever he’s around, don’t even think about paying

Even if he’s broke, he’s paying for your stuff

You and Ethan were in line at some fast food place, all he could afford. You would’ve offered to help pay but knew attempts would be futile. As nice as Ethan was, he was also stubborn. Soon it was your turn to order, and you didn’t even speak, Ethan relaying your regular order perfectly, down to what sauce you wanted. He then let you lead him to whatever booth you wanted.

“You know, I don’t mind paying one of these times.” You commented before taking a sip of your drink. Ethan shook his head, dismissing the thought.

“Y/n, for the thousandth time, it’s fine. I really don’t mind.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.” Your boyfriend grinned, reaching to take your hand. He looked down, watching his thumb rub back and forth over the back of your hand. You saw a slight smirk and knew what was coming. “I just had a vision.”

“Oh really?” You bit back a laugh, flipping your hand over to interlock your fingers. “What happened in this vision of yours?”

“Well, first of all, the food is very delicious.”

“Oh, good.”

“And second, I ask you something very important.” This piqued your interest very much.

“I think you should ask me now.”

“Sorry, babe, I ask you after we get our food.” As if waiting for the cue, your order number was called. Ethan grinned, kissing your hand as he stood from the booth seat. He left, and when he returned with a tray of food, you were impatient.

“Okay, ask me the question. I wanna know.”

“Okay, okay.” Ethan distributed the food between the two of you before looking at you expectantly. “Who gave you the right to be so pretty?”

“Oh my God, Ethan.”

[katapotato55]

how to make your writing be remembered forever and possibly be well loved.

(incredibly stupid and silly fanfiction line at the end of this post) I know that title is incredibly daunting but listen, its very simple. you ready?

MAKE STRONG CHARACTERS

"but kat! surely its not that simple! " nononono listen. bear with me. I want you to think of your favorite thing. Now ask: what do you remember the most about the thing you love? I will go first:

I love team fortress 2. and guess what: this game has been around since 2007, and was in development hell since before I was even born. The game has been around for 16 fucking years. And guess what? in the strong year of 2023 team fortress 2 Is STILL getting memed about. and do you want to know the crazy part? the character designs to the naked eye are not special at all. ok sure from a designer standpoint, these are very well designed characters made so that you can easily tell who they are based on their silhouette. but from the average joe.... tf2 is iconic but overall it looks ok. it doesn't seem special to a stranger to tf2. look at this completely random and arbitrary example of a game in the same genre:

I don't know shit about the characters in overwatch. Yeah i have a BASIC idea on what their personality is like based on voice lines and some videos i guess... but in-game they just exist. these characters are brightly colored, they have beautiful unique designs, hell they have even more diversity such as robots and people from other cultures! but i don't remember shit about these characters. Maybe I remember the ice lady and tracer, but nothing else. and yeah part of overwatch struggling right now is incompetant development, BUT: The characters in team fortress 2 are SO remember-able because the characters have such a vibrant personality. I am an orange box owner, its been a decade and a half and I am still remembering this game and enjoying art about it.

"but kat! that is a comedy game! Overwatch is a very serious game! are you saying comedy is needed to make a character more noticeable?" no. though I think allowing your characters to lighten up every now and then would humanize them. Not full on goofy, just give them something that makes them likeable. and if you cant do that, you can STILL make a compelling character even though they are mostly seriousness. I have an even more awfully thought out example:

kung fu panda is a masterclass in making a serious comedic movie somehow work. Master Oogway.... he isn't a comedic character at all. Yeah we made memes about him, but ignoring that, he is a wise and resourceful person. He is at calm and has faith in this intuition. there are a lot of characters like this. What makes Oogway stand out is that he is also a little bit kooky and sassy.

this youtube clip sums up what I mean. It is a funny line, it fits the character, and It doesn't ruin the seriousness of the moment. Some of the most successful series in history have something about them that has appealed to people. In my opinion: characters with strong personality and interesting traits is always a good way to ensure your writing is successful. The second most important is the characters bouncing off of each other in terms of their chemistry with each other. There is a reason why I spent years playing the first Destiny game and all of the DLC, but I remember fuck all about the characters. I think I maybe remember the bootleg star lord robot guy.

A writing exercise

here is an exercise to get you in the spirit of character making. step 1- get a random character from a random bit of media. In this case let me bring you master Oogway. Step 2- Get a completely different character from a completely unrelated series. I am going to give you Scout from team fortress 2. step 3- write a random ass thing about them interacting. Think about how the characters would react to each other and why. Think about each characters values in life and think about how they would bond and conflict with each other. Think about characters similar to the character they met in the past and how they reacted then, and if they have never interacted, make something interesting with it. Step 4- keep experimenting. Once you get into the spirit you can apply this to any new character you could want to make anyways thats it byeee- "arent you going to do that ?" do what? "make a writing thing about oogway and scout. " ........

Scout: let's go turtle you got nothing on my speed- Oogway: The one who first resorts to violence shows that he has no more arguments. Scout: that sounds like chicken talk! come on tough guy let me have it- Oogway then proceeds to make scout eat shit before vanishing in a cloud of cherry blossoms and dust from the desert. If this post isn't popular I want you to know my dignity was lost for nothing.

[adachimoe]

Atlus, please tell me the lore behind Adachi's mp3 player

Even just looking at Adachi, he doesn't exactly have the image of someone who gives a shit lol.

And this is intentional. Soejima talks about this aspect of Adachi's design in the P4 Design Works. Adachi is said to be an elite officer, one of the best of the best, and Soejima thought an elite might be smart, but lacking in other areas. For this reason, Soejima designed him with that crooked tie and messy bedhead.

That's certainly a common thing in fiction - someone who's good at one thing, but a complete space case in something unrelated. Though he comes off as incompetent in-game, to the extent that him showing competency in December surprises Dojima lol. And even when you get into the real dumb plot stuff that I write 10k words about, it took him like 4 months to figure out that "people can come out of the TV". Ma-Maybe his record was better at his old station.

Even in what Atlus has mentioned about the setting for P4 that doesn't get discussed in-game, Adachi's red tie is something Dojima gave him, and only because Dojima got tired of seeing him wear the old shabby tie he wore before and gave him one of his spare neckties.

If Dojima had never just given him a different tie to wear, I imagine Adachi would still be wearing his old shitty tie until it completely fell apart... Is Adachi pathetic enough to try and like... tape a tie together? Probably.

Him not caring too much about appearance and being a messy guy seems to extend to other aspects of his life. Even in his character profiles for P4 and P4AU, both say he's terrible at cleaning his room and the P4 one also says he sucks at filing paperwork lol.

This continues in his P4AU narration. The investigating detective pulls out 3 pieces of "evidence": A TV which ends up being used to get Adachi into the plot, a model gun which fits with his hobby being doing gun maintenance at home, and some kind of random off brand iPod-esque thing.

The actual music player itself is unimportant. Instead, it's used for a little characterization moment where Adachi confirms that it is indeed something that's his (he even remembers how he got it!), but he didn't particularly care about it and just left it wherever.

All things considered, I get the mental image of Adachi being the kind of guy who uses that meme 13-in-1 ~for men~ product, and his room is just a mountain of cup noodles and piles of random bullshit. Maybe there are more iPods and model guns to be unearthed from underneath his other stuff.

All of this is only talking about the more physical and material aspects of him, but I think you can extend this to who he is as a person and his mentality as well. Granted, some guys in real life end up being useless slobs as adults because they're used to their mom/sister/family/etc babying them, but uhhhhhhh from what Adachi says about his past, we can instantly rule that out with him.

(Edit: As a comment pointed out, upon re-reading this this does sound weird. When I wrote this, I was thinking more about doormat pushover moms. I don't see Adachi's mom doing domestic stuff as her babying him as a child because it strikes me as the Default Gender Role thing where the dad makes the money but the mom takes care of the household. And from how Adachi talks about it, you get the impression she wasn't hyper attentive towards him, as if she did like the bare minimum lol. Adachi's attitude towards the whole thing also strikes me as different than the dudes who grow up as spoiled little kings in their households.)

It seems pretty sensible to correlate his physical state and the way he uses it to express a lack of care for himself to something going on in his brain. Adult burnout, depression, lack of self-esteem & self-worth, all of the above.

I like the random anecdote about the music player, especially since it's him. A bingo game at a New Year's party............... A bingo game at a New Year's party???????????? Adachi, you went to a New Year's party? Hoooly shit dude I don't even do that.

Since he was in jail during New Years 2012 and only arrived in Inaba during spring 2011, for him to have won it during New Year's implies this is from before the events of Persona 4. E.g. it's not something Dojima dragged him to. I assume it was some work-related New Year's party when he was still stationed in Iwatodai. Keeping up appearances for the higher-ups? Did he just want free food? A bit lonely and wanted company and absolutely not gonna say that outloud? (All of the above?)

In both his P4 dialogue and his P4AU inner thoughts, he tends to look down on others. He's annoyed by the old woman at Junes (...though his voiced line on rank 6 expresses he liked her doting on him), he calls the protagonist a dumbass (...but only after admitting he misses him, Dojima, and Nanako), he doesn't think he'll ever get married (even tho I'm available).

And yet, as little blurbs like this go to show, we know he still participates. ♪(´▽｀)

Did he even use the iPod thing before chucking it? What did he put on it? Idols or something? Answer me, Atlus.

[utilitycaster]

i keep seeing people say that OF COURSE Bell Hell's haven't grown or changed, it's only been 3 months in campaign! and it's been nonstop! and every time I see that, I gotta admit 1. okay so you admit they haven't grown, cool. 2. that feels like a watsonian answer to a not-quite-watsonian complaint. iirc, m9 were only a few months longer than BH by the time their campaign ended, and it's been pretty comparable irl time. Both bell's bells and m9 had significantly less 'in world' time than vm and the m9 grew and changed plenty.

Because there's a discrepancy between 'time in game' and 'time at the table' for actual play, using 'in game' time as an excuse for...anything, feels thin. Because it still FEELS like three years both to us and the players! Does that make any sense or am i losing my mind? cause every time i see answers like that I feel a little crazy for feeling like it's almost entirely unrelated to complaint they're trying to address

No, it makes complete sense. I discussed this here as well but on some level it's like ok so they haven't changed! Turns out they suck, and the fact that they haven't changed means we have a party that still sucks. Like, if your point is "I don't like this character trait", someone saying "well it makes sense for them to have it" doesn't fix the core problem of you not liking it. This is a repeated problem in discussions in this campaign. I think Liliana dying would have been narratively interesting; I literally give zero fucks whether it's deserved, because she isn't real and I'm not a believer in Calvinism nor instant karma in real life and plenty of people die for unfair reasons and I happen to really enjoy exploring that and how people respond to it in fiction. You can't have a conversation with someone who, when you say "I'm not a big fan of vanilla ice cream, do you have chocolate?" says "but vanilla is literally a complex flavor made from orchids?" (Also yes, the Mighty Nein are a great example of a party who were already more closely bonded about a month and a half in, following Molly's death; the entire campaign was almost a year long though a bit shorter in terms of time together due to Happy Fun Ball time dilation. For reference, Bells Hells have been together 4 months and 5 days, and the Mighty Nein, at that exact same amount of time, were exploring the second Uk'otoa temple, and a number of them were already rethinking their whole deal at that point.)

I don't currently have any original posts to make re: criticism of Campaign 3 until next episode, most likely - I'm reblogging well-made posts I see, and obviously I'm answering asks, but I said this more briefly in the tags of another post earlier and I'd like to elaborate, but this has been a problem for me, at least, the entire campaign:

Campaign 3 has a small but loud contingent of fans who are utterly incapable of tolerating the idea that other people hold different opinions than they do and post them on their own blogs (often even not in the main tag). They respond to this with abuse and harassment; with a constant switching of direction to the point of self-contradiction; and with doubling and tripling down on statements I personally find to be bigoted. They are, in my opinion, small-minded, unintelligent, self-absorbed people who are so locked into, as I said here, an Us vs. Them mentality that so long as there is anyone who doesn't like them they will never be happy. They have gotten, narratively, almost everything they wanted thus far, but they'll never be happy so long as someone openly disagrees with them. Like, if the fact that your ship is the most popular one for this campaign on ao3 is so important to you, why are you so pressed about a few people disliking it? If liking Campaign 3 means you're a good anticolonial leftist and you're therefore allowed as a white person to mock the experiences of any nonwhite person actively dealing with the consequences of colonialism why do you need the support of The Bad People Who Don't Like It? If you can be broken by anything less than universal adoration, then, well. Break, bitch.

Essentially, think "the personality of Elon Musk in a broke 20-something whose main interests are cartoons aimed at a grade school audience, and a three sentence incorrect summary of Marxist theory that they use to justify whatever they already wanted to do," and you'll get the picture.

My advice therefore is that it's not really worth arguing, and frankly, there would be little to no discourse if they weren't so pathetically insecure that a post saying "The structure, pacing, and message of Campaign 3 are all weak and inconsistent, and Bells Hells have so little motivation they fail to be heroes, villains, nor antiheroes" sends them into an extended tantrum because the OP didn't append the words "I think" or "I feel" at the beginning of every statement, as most of us assume any reasonable adult would understand that a person posting on their own blog is posting their own opinions. (And, frankly, appending those words doesn't really help half the time because most of them are ultimately mostly outraged that someone would dare think or feel things that they don't.)

I am making posts about my thoughts on Campaign 3; I think most other people with criticism thereof are doing so as well. I will only be convinced otherwise by Campaign 3 itself being better, and I think it's probably too late for it to do so, and I will not be swayed nor intimidated by people who, see previous paragraphs re: my thoughts. My advice to you and anyone who's saying "wait a second" is to trust your gut; everything you said here seems like a pretty good assessment. If it helps, back away from the fandom and see what you feel without the influence of others (including me!) posting, and go with that.

[golvio]

Quietly obsessing over the fact that, based on how you can get to The Fury in the base game, Voice of the Stubborn will be the common denominator of the two possible starting routes, but also that his role in Fury might change depending on whether he’s the second or third Voice you meet.

I don’t remember exactly which interview I heard the devs say this, but I remember them saying that the second Voice you met was usually less helpful in the Chapter II they appear in, but the third Voice who appears in Chapter III is more helpful in that their advice guides you towards a conclusive ending to the relationship/story you’ve built with the Princess in that particular loop. But I don’t remember there ever being a route where you can get the exact same Voice from two different circumstances (unless Voice of the Paranoid can show up in The Wraith from Spectre’s direction, in which case I’m being a dum-dum).

In Adversary > Fury, Stubborn’s a perfect mirror of Adversary in that he’s accepted his role in the story as Her Eternal Enemy and enjoys it so much that he doesn’t question it. Contrarian being introduced serves as a potential destabilizing, deconstructive influence who might encourage him and Fury to start questioning their respective places in the narrative. Meanwhile, Tower > Fury has him introduced as the third voice in a manner that seems similar to his appearance in Den, where he sees himself as protecting us from a bully by encouraging us to stand up for ourself and fight back instead of meekly accepting our role as prey. But he also has no prior relationship with Fury and therefore no time to get comfortable in his role as Enemy, nor has Tower-Fury ever encountered an aspect of us with quite as willful and unrelenting as Stubborn.

Still, I don’t think it’s going to be just like Den where Stubborn is only helpful in the ending where you try to slay the Princess in revenge. I think there’s a reason why he’s in both versions of the route, even if it feels like Fury’s going to be a radically different character based on which route you approach her from, much like the Greys. I think, like the Greys, there’s a common theme to her route that makes both versions converging on the same role make sense despite the two versions of her being completely different characters. Fury’s route has this theme of literal and figurative deconstruction as both versions of her are denied what each sees as their purpose, throwing the cycle of violence/domination between us off its axis though not breaking it entirely, and then this possible theme of exploration/self-exploration as she takes us apart to try to figure out what that means. For whatever reason, Stubborn needs to be there, regardless of whether he’s initially helpful or not. And the updated Fury route will have the most new dialogue, sprites, and music out of all the upcoming new content for The Pristine Cut, if not all the base game routes in general. I find that extremely suspicious. There is something more the devs want to say with Fury, and, again, Stubborn has to be there for it.

Not to mention that, even though he was born to fight and perfectly happy with the idea of fighting Adversary forever, the only other time we’ve ever seen him truly at peace was The Wild, where he lays down his arms and willingly wants to be one with her. And then this route is another one that involves the Princess going inside of us in a very bizarrely intimate way. On top of that, the Tower being a very surprising route for me because she only ever seemed truly interested in the Long Quiet beyond allowing him to be “a priest or a pet” was when he was resisting her and trying to fight back, whether in Tower (before he actually makes her bleed and everything goes wrong) or in Apotheosis, where she seemed genuinely curious about what he was going to do if he tried to stop her.

Like…the update announcement said there was going to be a “new ending.” Is it going to be a character-specific ending like Stranger, where her route left such a massive loose end that she needed to have her own ending to give her and Contrarian’s story closure? Are we going to get that but with Fury and Stubborn? I mean, we can’t have a story about the breaking of cycles that possibly involves poor Stubborn having his own existential crisis and then leave both him and Fury hanging, can we?

[cripplecharacters]

oh yeah another question abt intellectual disability: what do people with moderate id speak like? i assume they wouldnt be perfectly articulate but i know making them talk like cavemen would be bad too. i do want it to be clear that they have language difficulties, but im not sure how to do that realistically. so what kinds of grammar errors are actually common? would it make sense to have them mix up words with similar pronunciation, or have difficulty discerning the differences in implications between words with similar meanings (like "pretty" vs "attractive")? do people with id ever 'imagine context' the way people(well, me) do when half-asleep where the brain mishears a statement as something completely unrelated? would spatial and situational awareness be impaired? also this is kind of a different question but if you can give advice on what to do with game mechanics for an id character in an rpg, that would be nice! i already have the stats figured out for every character and theres no stat that i think would be strongly affected by id but in terms of depicted fighting style and other mechanics maybe thered be some stuff informed by it (i cant do anything too complex though, im using rpg maker vx ace). idk! im spitballing here. main thing i need to know is how to write dialogue for a character with id ^_^

Hey, we have a post somewhat about this that you might find useful, I'll try to go over the other questions below.

Keep in mind my ID is mild (and on the milder side of that) so my answer will be all second-hand knowledge from talking to people with moderate ID in my SPED years.

A lot of it will depend on what condition causes they have. People with Williams syndrome have very “normal” verbal skills majority of the time, and you can't really tell in my experience. On the other hand if they're autistic you can potentially guess from the tone of the voice e.g. they speak in a very loud and monotone way. People with Down syndrome are very likely to have a speech disorder, someone with cerebral palsy might slur their words, etc.

A lot of people with ID might be less talkative than your average person (there's definitely exceptions). So your character could use shorter sentences, simple sentences (in the grammar sense), prefer to use other forms of communication for things that don't require speech (e.g., nodding instead of saying “Yes, I agree”, or doing a thumbs up, etc.), or have to be prompted to actually answer/take part in the conversation.

I personally don't recall ever hearing the “mixing words with similar pronunciation” in someone's actual speech, maybe unless they learned the language from reading rather than hearing it. If that's the case, then ID could affect their speech more than if they didn't have it, otherwise I'd assume that the character might have brain damage or is maybe hard of hearing and simply mixes them up because they can't recognize/hear the difference between them.

Mixing words based on specific meaning makes much more sense in my opinion (probably because I do that myself). Synonyms or words that might make sense in one context but not the other are the worst. Your example here is great. When someone has ID they might take away the wrong meaning out of a word and use it incorrectly because of that. E.g., their parents used to take them camping to a forest with lots of bugs, they don't like bugs, they can later call something “foresty” to mean “with lots of bugs” even if it doesn't have much to do with an actual forest. This might make more sense for a character with more severe ID (or if they're just young) but using “attractive” when you'd normally say “pretty” makes sense for someone with moderate ID in my opinion.

Something that can also affect speech of someone with ID is word repetition. Not really in the echolalia sense (though it can be that too) but just using stock phrases that get repetitive over time. I try to edit it out from my posts, but you can still kinda see it. For some people it will be ending most sentences with the same word, for someone else it will be starting two paragraphs with the same three words without realizing even though they're right next to each other or overusing “maybe” and “if” to start sentences.

As for the “imagining context” while mishearing something, I'm not sure if I know what you mean by it, so I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I don't do it.

Situational awareness is definitely impacted for all people with ID but to different degrees. I don't know if it's part of the diagnostic criteria, but it might as well be. When the person's ID is mild it might look like someone who's just kinda unaware of what goes around them, maybe don't recognize that they're doing something that could end up badly. The more severe the intellectual disability the more obvious it is, the person might elope (wander off) and not be able to find their way back, not be able to use cooking utensils safely because they don't recognize the risks in real time (not really in the “not realizing that the knife is sharp” way if they have moderate ID, more like “not realizing that you need to be careful when putting things on hot oil, or you can get burned”), assuming that people are automatically safe to be around, things like that.

Spatial awareness doesn't affect everyone, but one of the biggest comorbidities of ID is dyspraxia, which does affect it a lot. There are people with mild ID with severe dyspraxia, and severely ID people with no dyspraxia. It varies.

Unfortunately I have never played any RPGS, and I'm not really familiar with the mechanics. Here's an old ask about intellectually disabled characters engaged in combat, hopefully it's useful?

If you want some real-life resources for hearing how intellectually disabled people talk, I really recommend this playlist. It's a bunch of interviews with people with Down syndrome and you can see that they're all very different from each other despite having the same disability.

I hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[paper-mario-wiki]

what's ur favorite erb?

i dont have "favorite" as much as i have "the ones i watch every now and again".

"Blackbeard vs Al Capone" i might just like the way EpicLloyd speaks as Capone, but i also cant help but be utterly entranced by a shouting match between to middle aged men who want the other one to be scared. Favorite verse: Capone 1 (of 2)

"Wonder Woman vs Stevie Wonder" although this one still has the signature simple and cheesy bar structure that ERB is known for, this is PEAK in terms of performers. nicepeter and epiclloyd (the main guys) are great, but after the first 30 videos it became very easy to detect their individual deliveries and cadences. t-pain is pretty iconic in his performance of stevie wonder. Favorite verse: Stevie 2 (of 3)

"Stephen King vs Edgar Allan Poe" watzky was unfortunately cursed by god to forever look like a little twerp, but he works with it really well and it fits very well for the real-life twerp that was Edgar Allan Poe. and zach sherwin is always a charismatic force to be reckoned with, his uniquely clever writing style and flow shining. Favorite verse: Stephen King 2 (of 2)

"Steven Spielberg vs Alfred Hitchcock" this one's just good fun. its a little battle royale among a bunch of really famous pop directors. i know that the character-appropriate cgi background is a staple of post-season-one ERB, but i really appreciate these ones specifically for some reason. Favorite verse: Alfred Hitchcock

"Kryptonite" this isnt an ERB and is in fact a completely unrelated normal rap song but i was listening to this one today. my oldest brother listened to a lot of rap when i was young and this one was one of his favorites. i remember listening to it all the time when he would drive me to blockbuster to rent gamecube games. i didnt listen to it for a few decades, but i looked it up on youtube a few weeks ago on a whim and i really liked it a lot. it's all about smoking weed which i love doing, and the chorus is really catchy, plus the instrumental is one of my favorites. Favorite verse: Big Boi 1 (verse 3)

"The Joker vs Pennwise" both rappers somehow look like different versions of matpat in heavy makeup, and joker works in a natural "we live in a society" which i like. i think that's all i got for this one. Favorite verse: Joker 3 (of 3, because this is the one with the we live in a society bar, but all of his bars were actually really solid)

"Tony Hawk vs Wayne Gretzky" another one for the "zach sherwin is one of the best thing ERB has" pile. he delivers in a quaint (if a bit cartoonish) canadian accent a scathing comparison between the actual real-life achievements and significance and skill between the two actual athletes. which i think is very spiritually fulfilling considering the name of the series. Favorite verse: Wayne Gretzky 2 (of 2)

"James Bond vs Austin Powers" might unfortunate austin only gets 1 verse because it's far and away the best part of this one. aside from a clever pussy eating joke near the end between the two feuding bonds. Favorite verse: Austin Powers

"Nice Peter vs EpicLLOYD 2" this is an actual real-life catharsis event between the main two artists behind ERB who seemingly put very real and deep-seated creative and personal frustrations they have with each other into their verses, plus a very real burnout over this series that they put all their money on being The Big One, creating a legitimately tense feeling in watching their performances. for reference, Peter rips on how Lloyd is an alcoholic and is unwilling to let the channel grow or change, and Lloyd talks about how Peter is obsessive and manipulative, referencing a real life issue involving a friend they fucked over in the separate video he appeared in. Favorite verse: Lloyd 1 (of ??? this one is almost a duet at times really)

"Babe Ruth vs Lance Armstrong" this one is specifically here because babe's second verse goes extremely hard in an almost uncharacteristic way for a series with very middling raps in general. Favorite verse: Babe Ruth 2 (of 2)

i could keep going i think but i just scrolled to the top of the list and my face flushed with embarrassment at how long its getting so im gonna end it there. you get the idea.

[galaxiasgreen]

About Me

Hello everyone! My name is Green (she/her), I'm a Hufflepuff with a gremlin streak, and my hobbies include reading, writing, and collecting more books than I can read.

I primarily write humour, angst, fluff, and a bit of spice. At the moment all my work is Canon Character/ Reader OCs, who never have a name (only a nickname, no Y/N). I'm slowly working on porting everything over to tumblr, but you can check out the links to AO3 and Wattpad in the meantime.

As a quick note, I never copy game dialogue. Besides some iconic lines, all writing is original and entirely my own.

Tags & Info

My AO3 account and my Wattpad account have the most up-to-date archives of my work.

My writing (for all my fics and oneshots)

My oneshots (for all my oneshots not listed here)

My stuff (for all my fics, oneshots, game photos and posts)

Gibby | Prim | Missy | the bar girl (for specific characters)

ACVASverse (for all writing and posts relating to the stories set within the A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet universe)

Multi-Chapter Fics

🍭☀️A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet

In which, against the wishes of his staunchly pure-blood supremacist family, Ominis Gaunt befriends you, a naive Muggle-born Hufflepuff, and his life inexplicably changes. Or, what happens when a pure-blood from an anti-Muggle family falls in love with a Muggle-born?

[Ominis/Reader (Gibby), T-Rated, 127k, complete] A retelling-turned-original-story from Ominis’ POV that expands his role in the main questlines and beyond. Parallels his life story with relevant flashbacks.

Tropes: angst/ romance/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, pure-blood culture, canon rewrite, book!canon compliant.

Trigger warnings: coarse language, familial abuse, comas, trauma, blood/injury, grief/death, torture, magical prejudice/ racism.

[Tumblr masterlist] [Tumblr link, AO3 link, Wattpad link]

🍺🖤This Hell We Create

The freckled stranger has been visiting your pub for three months now, drinking to forget the worst times. You might be the person he needs to remember the best.

[Sebastian/Reader (the bar girl), E-rated, 19k, ongoing] A short series following a Muggle barmaid and the freckled stranger who visits her pub every night. Trigger warnings vary per chapter. Completely unrelated to the ACVASverse.

Tropes: angst/ drama/ romance, eventual smut, wizard x Muggle, different worlds, dark secret, Magic from a Muggle POV, oblivious to magic.

Trigger warnings: alcoholism, coarse language, non-explicit sexual assault, dementia/ Alzheimer's disease, blood/ injury, gendered language, explicit smut.

[Tumblr masterlist] [Tumblr link, AO3 link, Wattpad link]

🐦‍🔥🍰Stay With Me

Garreth Weasley is good at Potions… and not much else. You, a bookish, lonesome Ravenclaw with a weighted family secret, are good at everything… except Potions. Assigned together for a mutual tutorship, Garreth is sure he won’t meet anyone more boring. But the potions lab isn’t the only place where sparks will fly.

[Garreth/Reader (Prim), T-rated, 111k, ongoing] A mystery-romcom following sixth-year Garreth Weasley when he is foisted a frosty and lonesome tutor hiding secrets of her own. Can be read entirely independently from ACVAS but does reference some of the events.

Tropes: romance/ humour/ drama, slow burn, fluff, tutoring together, grumpy x sunshine, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, pining, love triangle, dark secret, sworn off love, Everyone Can See It.

Trigger warnings: coarse language, blood/injury.

[Tumblr link, AO3 link, Wattpad link]

🥀🔮Shelter of Our Night

After being released from Azkaban for the murder of his uncle four years ago, Sebastian Sallow finally sees his chance to start anew. But when ancient magic starts to corrupt you, the Hero of Hogwarts and his long-time crush, Sebastian and you must face the vengeful spirit of Isidora Morganach, discovering the hard way that the shadows of one’s past never really leave you. Most of the time, in fact… they bite back.

[Sebastian/Reader (Missy), M-Rated, 48k, ongoing] A sequel to the game storyline where Sebastian went to Azkaban and the MC absorbed the Repository – with a piece of Isidora Morganach's soul. Directly follows the events of ACVAS but can be read separately.

Tropes: angst/ drama/ romance, slow burn, mutual pining, lovers in denial, Couples Who Kill Together..., second chance, childhood friends-to-lovers, redemption, dark secret.

Trigger warnings: coarse language, familial abuse, trauma, grief/death, murder, blood/injury, non-explicit smut.

[AO3 link, Wattpad link]

🦡✨Troublesome and Unladylike

In which, your life changes twice in quick succession: the first, when you discover you have magic, and the second, when you meet an enigmatic blind Slytherin.

[Ominis/Reader (Gibby), T-rated, 45k, complete] ACVAS from the Reader's perspective, with all original content and much lighter tone. Recommended after ACVAS, however you can read it separately.

Tropes: romance/ humour/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, hijinks and shenanigans, Muggle culture, Magic from a Muggle POV, canon rewrite.

Trigger warnings: coarse language, familial abuse, comas, trauma, torture, magical prejudice/ racism.

[Tumblr link, AO3 link, Wattpad link]

Commissioned Art

👗❤️‍🔥 Garreth & Prim in Potions/ at the Valentine's Ball for Stay with Me [Lyworth]

💥⚡ Sebastian, Missy and Isidora Fight for Shelter of Our Night [yoshitsuno]

🖤🍺 Sebastian at the bar from this hell we create [FlamboyantJelly]

Thanks for checking out my work. You can support me by reblogging and/ or commenting, which are hugely appreciated 💚

[Last Update November 2024] Banner and divider credits: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-]

[cheshireliam]

vent ahead you have been warned

no like seriously i don't recommend you open this post if you're not a roger and/liam fan. but if you want to? rest assured it's not character hate (really).

i understand that the top 5 suitors will get special content because they're called promise events for reason aka the events were promised back in 2024 during elections, so i don't have anything against giving fans of those suitors what they're meant to get.

what makes me upset is ikevil's treatment of roger and liam for ranking #8 and #9 respectively. just because they don't have as many fans as other suitors like jude, does that mean their fans don't matter at all? can you imagine if your favourite suitor doesn't get a single featured event throughout the past more than 365 days? imagine seeing other players having something new to gush about every other event, while all you can do is stare at a poster for an upcoming event that doesn't feature your man. AGAIN.

there's a difference between treating some suitors better because they're popular vs straight up ignoring those who aren't. "c company" can give the top suitors however many events and gachas they want, it doesn't matter. but to exclude specifically the "bottom" two suitors from a LOGIN EVENT (that's completely unrelated to the upcoming promise event btw) is just too much. it's just chibis. just give roger and liam fans the fuckin' chibis. what's so hard about drawing another two tiny people? they only include roger and liam when it's paid content. how DARE they still try to milk us when they don't treat us properly at all.

top suitors' fans spent ungodly amounts of money on the game to support their fav, yes. but have roger and liam fans been spending absolutely $0 or something...? is our money worthless? we're consumers just like the rest of the playerbase. so they can't say it's not worth your time to make content for that two suitors.

@ a certain "c company" : roger and liam are characters that YOU created. i'm sure the artists and writers who worked hard to create them love these characters too, because they're also a fruit of their efforts. they exist and they have fans too. and mind you, they're main characters — not side characters or NPCs. if you think simply giving them a couple of lines in other suitors' events is enough, i'm telling you that it's not.

and then again, i must reinforce that i don't hate any of the other suitors and most definitely don't have anything against their fans. i'm genuinely happy for them that they always get new content, but i just think roger and liam fans deserve to feel that joy too. if you can read this entire post and still conclude that i hate the others suitors/their fans, then i suggest you improve your reading comprehension skills.