#and that wasn't a character descriptor

[lucky-slice]

Kevin day coward this, kevin day coward that .... do we not remember the time he was ready to straight up choke neil out. Cause I think about the fact Kevin canonically threw neil against a wall every. damn. day

[physalian]

How to make your writing sound less stiff

Just a few suggestions. You shouldn’t have to compromise your writing style and voice with any of these, and some situations and scenes might demand some stiff or jerky writing to better convey emotion and immersion. I am not the first to come up with these, just circulating them again.

1. Vary sentence structure.

This is an example paragraph. You might see this generated from AI. I can’t help but read this in a robotic voice. It’s very flat and undynamic. No matter what the words are, it will be boring. It’s boring because you don’t think in stiff sentences. Comedians don’t tell jokes in stiff sentences. We don’t tell campfire stories in stiff sentences. These often lack flow between points, too.

So funnily enough, I had to sit through 87k words of a “romance” written just like this. It was stiff, janky, and very unpoetic. Which is fine, the author didn’t tell me it was erotica. It just felt like an old lady narrator, like Old Rose from Titanic telling the audience decades after the fact instead of living it right in the moment. It was in first person pov, too, which just made it worse. To be able to write something so explicit and yet so un-titillating was a talent. Like, beginner fanfic smut writers at least do it with enthusiasm.

2. Vary dialogue tag placement

You got three options, pre-, mid-, and post-tags.

Leader said, “this is a pre-dialogue tag.”

“This,” Lancer said, “is a mid-dialogue tag.”

“This is a post-dialogue tag,” Heart said.

Pre and Post have about the same effect but mid-tags do a lot of heavy lifting.

They help break up long paragraphs of dialogue that are jank to look at

They give you pauses for ~dramatic effect~

They prompt you to provide some other action, introspection, or scene descriptor with the tag. *don't forget that if you're continuing the sentence as if the tag wasn't there, not to capitalize the first word after the tag. Capitalize if the tag breaks up two complete sentences, not if it interrupts a single sentence.

It also looks better along the lefthand margin when you don’t start every paragraph with either the same character name, the same pronouns, or the same “ as it reads more natural and organic.

3. When the scene demands, get dynamic

General rule of thumb is that action scenes demand quick exchanges, short paragraphs, and very lean descriptors. Action scenes are where you put your juicy verbs to use and cut as many adverbs as you can. But regardless of if you’re in first person, second person, or third person limited, you can let the mood of the narrator bleed out into their narration.

Like, in horror, you can use a lot of onomatopoeia.

Drip Drip Drip

Or let the narration become jerky and unfocused and less strict in punctuation and maybe even a couple run-on sentences as your character struggles to think or catch their breath and is getting very overwhelmed.

You can toss out some grammar rules, too and get more poetic.

Warm breath tickles the back of her neck. It rattles, a quiet, soggy, rasp. She shivers. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. Sweat beads at her temple. Her heart thunders in her chest. Ba-bump-ba-bump-ba-bump-ba- It moves on, leaving a void of cold behind. She uncurls her fists, fingers achy and palms stinging from her nails. It’s gone.

4. Remember to balance dialogue, monologue, introspection, action, and descriptors.

The amount of times I have been faced with giant blocks of dialogue with zero tags, zero emotions, just speech on a page like they’re notecards to be read on a stage is higher than I expected. Don’t forget that though you may know exactly how your dialogue sounds in your head, your readers don’t. They need dialogue tags to pick up on things like tone, specifically for sarcasm and sincerity, whether a character is joking or hurt or happy.

If you’ve written a block of text (usually exposition or backstory stuff) that’s longer than 50 words, figure out a way to trim it. No matter what, break it up into multiple sections and fill in those breaks with important narrative that reflects the narrator’s feelings on what they’re saying and whoever they’re speaking to’s reaction to the words being said. Otherwise it’s meaningless.

—

Hope this helps anyone struggling! Now get writing.

[dceasesd]

why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.1)

oh boy oh boy am i excited for this one buckle up boys it’s gonna be a long one. analysis under the cut (WITH PICTURES!!)

i, like many others, have many thoughts and opinions about juni ba's the boy wonder that i'd like to express. i was having trouble formatting my rant, though, so i decided that it was easiest to just address some of the common complaints i've seen about the comic and jason's characterization and insert my ramblings throughout it. so far i've seen three main complaints:

the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one"

his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character

the neighbor's kid interaction

to start with the first one-- when introducing jason's character, in both the second and first issue, ba uses the descriptors "coarse", "bitter", "hardened", "brash" and, of course, "rageful".

so, yes-- i understand where people are having issues with this characterization. however, even if it's overplayed, it's still important to remember that jason is angry, and is driven, in part, by his anger at bruce and the joker. and, as ba highlights, he deserved to be! completely erasing jason's anger is just as bad as defining him with it.

i also don't think it's wholly accurate to say that ba is boiling jason down to just his anger. it might seem like that when only considering the dialogue and narration, but jason's behavior in the comic doesn't perfectly align with how the narrator describes him. while the narration describes him as "rageful" and could be an instance of generalization, jason's actions throughout the comic are more aligned with two other emotions/motivators: fear and despair. we never see jason get actually, properly angry; the closest we get is when he's seemingly annoyed by damian (which i believe could be performative) and when he becomes violent, accidentally hurting damian.

even in this instance, though, he is not driven to this violence by rage, but rather fear. so, while ba states in the narration that jason is driven by his anger, he contradicts himself by highlighting how jason's sadness and terror motivates his character. this could be interpreted as lousy writing on ba's part, but i'm not going to attribute the paradox to that inference. to me, it actually represents a critque of the "jason is the angry robin" generalization, because it calls to attention the discrepancies between how one is described versus reality, an issue that jason both faces in the comics (bruce using him as a cautionary tale when dying WASN'T HIS FAULT) and outside of the comics, as mentioned previously.

furthermore, this highlights the difference between what jason believes about bruce's perspective and bruce's actual perspective (according to damian). jason believes himself to be a "failure", but damian refutes this by describing his conversation with bruce concerning jason, a conversation that does not align with jason's belief. if you couldn't tell by now, perception versus reality is a BIG theme in this comic (and for jason's character in general!)

i was really fascinated by ba's take on jason, because it veered pretty far from a lot of contemporary comics, most of which do, unfortunately, play with the angry robin jason generalization. they've been doing a bit with his fear, too, which has either been pretty fun or the most awful thing ever (i'm looking at you zdarsky. gotham war was fucked up), but what makes ba's jason stand out to me is how he grapples with his grief.

this boy is so sad. ba's jason might actually be the saddest rendition of him i've seen in canon content. we've seen jason grapple a little bit with the despair rooted in his death and resurrection, mainly in lost days, where he cries 3 (?) times, fresh out of the pit and very traumatized.

even in this comic, though, he reacts to his grief with anger more prominently than sadness. that obviously doesn't mean the despair isn't there, though-- anger is just an easier outlet for it (which i could really get into the masculinity aspects of that, but then this would be wayyyyyy too long).

ba's jason, though? that motherfucker is so. sad.

christ he's depressing. AND THAT'S SUCH A FRESH PERSPECTIVE!!!!!!! THANK YOU JUNI BA!!!!!!

now i'm pretty sure some people would argue that this rendition in out of character because he's so sad. to me, though, he's still the same jason; he covers up his sadness with anger and pettiness, redirecting his own insecurities onto those around him to mask his true feelings.

ba quite literally illustrates this in the comic. whenever he is being his snide, normal self, he has his red hood mask on; but when he actually opens up to damian and expresses himself truthfully, the mask is off. ba is highlighting how the classic jason anger and bitterness is, in part, a performance and coping mechanism.

this post is already too long, so i'll go over the two other critques in a different post, which i will link below (eventually). if you guys have any thoughts you'd like to share or discuss, my dms and asks are completely open! if you made it this far, i hope you enjoyed my ranting. look out for another post soon! :))

part 2 / part 3

[lenaellsi]

“Crowley is still an angel deep down” “Crowley is more of an angel than any of the archangels” “Crowley was only cast out because he needed to play his part in Armageddon, he's not a real demon” “Aziraphale wants to rebuild Heaven to be more like Crowley because he’s what an angel should be” no. Stop it. This is exactly where Aziraphale went wrong.

Crowley is 100% a demon. He's not actually a bit of an angel, and he's not cosmically better than any of the other demons we see in the series. He's much less vicious than most of them, yeah, but he's also much less vicious than most of the angels, because how “nice” a celestial being is has nothing to do with which side they're technically on. Crowley's kindness comes from him doing his best to help people despite the hurt he's suffered himself, not any sort of inherent residual or earned holiness. He was cast out just like the rest of the demons, and that's an important part of his history that shouldn't be minimized, excused, or, critically, 'corrected.'

Being angelic is not a positive or negative trait in the Good Omens universe. It's a species descriptor. Saying that Crowley is still an angel deep down because he helps people is an in-character thing for Aziraphale to think, certainly--Job and the final fifteen showed that in the worst possible way--but it's not something Crowley would ever react well to, and it's the main source of conflict in the entire "appoint you to be an angel" fiasco.

We know that Aziraphale thinks Crowley's fall was an injustice, but why? Well, because Crowley is actually Good, which means his fall was a mistake, or a test, or a regrettable error in judgment, or…something. Ineffable. Etc. The point is, he’s special, much better than those other demons, and if they can fix him and make him an angel again, everything will be fine! (So once Job's trials are over, everything will be restored to him? Praise be!) Aziraphale has to believe that Crowley's better traits come from traces of the angel he used to know and not the demon he's known for 6,000 years, because that’s how he can rationalize his incorrect view of Heaven as The Source Of Truth And Light And Good with his complicated feelings about Crowley's fall.

But Crowley's fall was not an injustice because he's actually a Good Person who didn't deserve it. Crowley's fall was an injustice because the entire system of dividing people into Good (obedient) and Bad (rebellious) is bullshit. Crowley is not an unfortunate exception to God's benevolence, he is a particularly sympathetic example of God's cruelty.

And really, Crowley doesn't behave at all like an angel, especially when he's at his best. All of the things that he's done that we as the audience consider Good are things that Heaven has directly opposed. (See: saving the goats and children in defiance of God in S2E2, convincing Aziraphale to give money to Elspeth despite Heaven's views on the "virtues of poverty" in S2E3, speaking out against the flood and the crucifixion in S1E3, tempting Aziraphale to enjoy earthly pleasures because he thinks they'll make him happy, stopping Armageddon.)

Heaven as an institution has never been about helping humanity. And that's not an issue of leadership, as Aziraphale seems to think--it's by design. Aziraphale's first official act as an angel toward humanity was to literally throw them to the lions. Giving them the sword wasn't him acting like an angel, it was just him being himself. Heaven doesn't care about humans. It's not supposed to. It's supposed to win the war against Hell, with humans as chess pieces at best and collateral damage at worst.

Yes, it's easier to think that there are forces that are supposed to be fundamentally good. It's easier to think that Aziraphale is going to show those mean archangels and the Metatron what’s coming to them and reform Heaven into what it "should" be, and that God is actually super chill and watching all of this while shipping ineffable husbands and cheering for them the whole way. And of course it's easier to take Crowley, who Aziraphale (and the audience) adores, and say that he deserves to be on the Good team much more than all those angels and demons that we don’t like. But that's not how it works. People are more complicated than that, even celestial beings.

Crowley is a demon, and the tragedy of his character is not that he's secretly a good guy who is being forced to be evil; the tragedy is that he's lived his whole life stuck between two institutional forces that are both equally hostile to the love he feels for the universe and the beings in it. There are no good and bad guys. There are no "right people." Every angel, demon, and human is capable of hurting or helping others based on their choices. That is, in fact, the entire fucking point.

[504py]

In Ink, Unsaid - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader

Your knight is appointed to tutor you, and he falls asleep during your lesson. It leads to a cute interaction involving his hair.

hell yeah finally got this out!! this one's a lot longer than the first part, i pray it ain't too wordy LOL. once again art by me and hope y'all enjoy!!

Historical inaccuracies, I suck at old-timey speak, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, mutual pining, almost a Leon character study. It's a little more romantic this time.

1, 2, 3

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You don't think you've ever seen Leon make a mistake. It unsettles you a little, how much composure and perfection he seems to uphold. You tend to watch him a lot because of it, growing a strange compulsion to always have your eyes on him.

Whenever you see him through a window while passing by, the sight of him slows you down a bit before you continue on your way. Whenever he walks past the room you're in, your eyes dart to his figure on impulse, trying to take in as much information as you can before he's out of your sight. Leon walks too fast, you find yourself thinking a lot.

Paradoxically, when you're close enough to actually see his face, you find yourself unable to look at him. You try to, but he's already staring at you, and he never looks away first, so you do. Whenever you look at him, his eyebrows raise slightly, like he thinks you want something from him when you do. The pressure from it is surprisingly crushing, so you simply cannot imagine holding eye contact with Leon for more than two seconds.

This strange fascination of yours with your new knight has materialized itself in the form of behaviors that might align themselves with a stalker's. You've drunken in all the little details about him. You recognize the sound of his footsteps, the dent in his left vambrace, since he tends to guard his body with that arm, and the moles on his knuckles. Since you can't look at his face when he's actually near you, you've taken to staring at his hands or his feet. He rarely ever shifts his weight between each leg, even if he's been standing for a long time. It makes you more conscious of how you carry yourself... Speaking of posture, he tends to tilt his head to the right slightly when he rests.

Rest and any of its synonyms are words you'd rarely use to describe anything related to Leon. The most you'd seen him do something as relaxed as resting, was that night he sat by your bed till the thunderstorm passed.

So how do you know his habits when he rests? Shockingly, he's doing it right now, in front of you, during your first tutoring session together.

His eyes were rather bloodshot and dull when he entered the library, a feigned intensity in them like he was trying to convince himself he wasn't tired. He knows you notice, but you don't ask about it, and he seems to be glad you did.

"...This arrangement is rather unorthodox, is it not?" You ask as he sits down across from you.

Leon puffs out a little breath, not enough to be a sigh, but noticeable enough. You are unsure if it is out of annoyance.

"I suppose so, my lady, but your mother was the one who appointed me to tutor you today."

You frown a little. It's not like you disliked Leon at all, but you tend to find him a little too... tense to be around. He seems so structured and confident and it makes you afraid to make mistakes around him... Besides that, he's got a really intense stare that doesn't fare well with your nervous composition.

"...Do you dislike having me as your tutor, my lady?" He queries, the faintest hint of doubt and dejection in his voice.

"I–" You try to start, but he cuts you off, "It's not meant to be taken in any personal manner, my lady, but..." He takes in a sharp inhale, realizing he interrupted you and maybe stepped over a line. Leon pauses and watches you carefully, waiting to see if your expression will contort or if you'll start to reprimand him.

...You just avert your eyes, so he continues.

"Perhaps you'd fare better with someone you were more comfortable with... my lady."

You bite the inside of your cheek. "I'm rather alright, Sir Leon. I apologize for complaining."

"Forgive me for pushing, my lady, but you always feel rather tense around me. Is that for any particular reason? Perhaps I could help."

"I, uh..." Your gaze falls to your lap, "I'm just not sure why mother chose you. Your schedule is rather full as it is, is it not, Sir Leon?"

"Well, I can promise you I'm very well-educated, my lady." He says, but as he observes, it doesn't do much to soothe your nerves.

"...Spending more time with you is always a pleasure to me, my lady. I promise that to you too."

That wrinkle between your eyebrows soften, and your shoulders drop.

Leon does surprisingly well as a tutor. You suppose it's because of his rugged impression that you thought the opposite, but even the way he speaks is well-constructed and seems to have been planned in advance.

If your mother had never appointed Leon as your tutor today, you'd never have really noticed how calming his voice can be. Whenever he's spoken, it always sounded like a command, even if he's trying his best to be respectful. His voice usually comes off too strong, too deep in his chest, too loud sometimes, too much authority. Usually you tend to shrink in your skin a little whenever he speaks, but now, he sounds so relaxed that you feel like he could lull you to sleep at any moment.

Ah– it seems he's beat you to the chase, though.

It took you a little too long to notice, but Leon has fallen asleep in front of you, cheek resting against his right fist and his left hand still resting on the book's page.

You freeze up, not wanting to do anything that'd wake him up. You understand that a tutor falling asleep in front of a student would be highly inappropriate, but you still felt that it would be rude to wake him. Is he a light sleeper? You wonder how exhausted he must be to fall asleep in such an uncomfortable situation, and it makes your heart ache.

He's breathing lightly, you wait a bit, see if he'll wake up on his own. Maybe it's just your own excuse to watch him while you can.

His eyelashes are a lot longer than you thought, and you don't think you've ever seen him without that crease between his brows, and an almost-scowl on his lips. Leon's hair was of a color and style that confused you. Some days it felt brown, sometimes it was blond, or something in between. You've convinced yourself it depended on his mood or the weather. As for the length... the fringe always seemed to obscure his eyes slightly, so you've always wondered why he didn't just cut it. Especially when he wears his helmet, and he makes a bit of a fuss when his bangs get pinned underneath his visor.

Unconsciously, you've been reaching forward to brush away the strand of hair hanging in front of his nose, hoping to get a better look of his face.

Leon's eyes flutter open, his pupils adjusting to the light before they dilate as they settle on you. Your arm flinches back to your side.

He mumbles your name, intimately, no honorifics or titles, and your face warms.

"I– Leon– Sir Leon, hello," You breathe out shakily, "You fell asleep."

The message takes a few seconds to reach his just-woken-up brain, before his eyes widen and he immediately sits up properly.

Words come spilling out of his mouth, this is the first time you've seen him stutter. "I'm so sorry– I'm incredibly sorry, my lady, I apologize for my inappropriate behavior, I don't know why I dared to do such a thing, and why I keep making mistakes today–"

"Leon."

He bites on his tongue and his eyes are slightly wide as he stares at you.

"...It's alright, I promise."

The tips of his ears are a bright red, and that same flush seems to be creeping up from under his shirt collar to his neck. He takes in a few deep breaths, and he looks unsure. This is the second time you've seen him wear this look now. He takes in a deep breath.

"I... I apologize, my lady." He bows his head towards you. The roots of his hair were a deeper brown compared to the rest of his locks. You wonder if he's not even a real blond. Perhaps hours of staying under the sun lightened his hair.

You space out staring at him, and Leon straightens his neck. He can't recall maintaining eye contact with you for this long, and it makes his abdomen feel warm, even if he knows you're not really all there.

"My lady?"

You finally blink, and at the realization your blank-eyed gaze settled on him, your eyes widen and you immediately look elsewhere. You decide to rest your sight on his hands.

"Is there something wrong with my hair?" His fingers twitch, slightly restless.

"I... What makes you say that, Sir Leon?"

"You've been eyeing the top of my head for a while. I felt your hand near my face while I was waking up, as well, my lady."

Your heart skips a beat, and the way your blink catches for a second and the way you seem to choke on your spit isn't missed by the knight-now-tutor across from you.

"I-It's quite alright, my lady." He rushes out, his heart dropping at that look on your face. He's not even sure what's "alright", but he just wanted to offer you any bit of comfort so things don't escalate, in the fear he was too forward with confronting you.

He remembers the musings of his fellow knights about his hair, about how could he see with all that bother, how it could get in the way during combat, or how it just looked a little funny. Truth be told, his hair was the result of continuously forgetting to go get a haircut because he fixated so much on work, but now he keeps it out of spite. Leon insists he can do perfectly fine to anyone who says otherwise, but if it's you...

Leon breathes in slightly, and his hands move away from your line of vision. You follow them, and he's pushing his fringe back as much as he can. He's trying to tuck it behind his ears, and it almost makes you laugh, how gentle the gesture is, then you realize how beautiful he actually looks. Your cheeks warm, and you cannot look away.

"Is this better, my lady?" He asks, strangely demure in his demeanor.

You chuckle, and his heart soars at the noise, "You missed a spot." you comment, before your hand raises for a second, nearing his face.

"Ah– May I?"

"Of course, my lady." The devotion leaking from his voice is punctuated by the mole on his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

Your fingers are slightly shaky as they clear the few strands of hair he couldn't pin back. The pads of your fingers graze his forehead, and he takes in a sharp breath. Physical contact between you two was relegated to holding onto his hand when he assisted you, and nothing more, so he wasn't a stranger to it. So he can't really understand why such a tiny act has such an effect on him.

You sit back, properly look at him, and smile. He feels slightly shy under your scrutiny, but he hopes you find him good-looking at the very least. He does have the face to pull off shorter hair, but something about it felt like you were seeing him naked. He felt under-decorated without his fussy hair.

"Mm... I think you look best just as you are."

Leon breathes out a little laugh accompanied by the toothiest smile you've seen on him thus far, which really isn't much, but it comes off just as endearing. The bags under his eyes seem to disappear as his eyes turn into happy crescents. Adoration is dancing around in his pale blue irises, and in the reflection of his dilated pupils, it's only you.

"Thank you, my lady... It makes me happy to hear that."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

[dejwrld]

summary — international rockstar choso kamo is in love with the international popstar, y/n.

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻ female reader, female anatomy described, written with black reader in mind, mentions of descriptors of black reader (complexion, hair texture, culture), open to be read by all readers, profanity, angst, lovers to exes, told in third pov Chosoi's pov), mentions of drug and alcohol usage, opposite attracts trope, riding/cowgirl position, brief mention of oral (m.receiving), famous au, modern au, he falls harder trope, praise kink, rockstar choso x popstar!reader one shot

sticky note from deja — this was originally another character plot, but urgh i just think about rockstar choso a lot! well i think about choso a lot period. so here's a sweet treat to the choso gaggers.

He liked her more than he had expected. He never was the one to be in a committed relationship—didn't quite go with the rockstar image as an artist, nor did it sell to the public. He thought it was better to sell into the stereotype that rock stars do hardcore drugs, can't remember their flings' names, and show up late to their sound checks for concerts. But here he was, staring at her as she peacefully slept on his chest as if she belonged there. 

Well, she did. She was different from the people he pursued romantically who entered his life and exited quickly when they realized they couldn't keep up with his lifestyle. She could handle the throat-cutting hate from fans because she had rabid fans. She could take the intrusive questions from music journalists because she had one of the world's best PR and media training teams. 

He didn't want to admit that he was falling in love with her. 

But, here, Choso was itching to smoke a morning cigarette but too afraid to wake her because she had a late recording session.

And don't get him started on the reckless shit he did while she was locked up in the studio last night. 

"Good morning," Her voice comes off like a whisper as if they were in a library with strict talking rules. She's placing tired kisses on Choso’s chest with a smile. 

"Mornin'," Choso mumbles back, his arms resting behind his head. His brown-colored eyes met her gaze when he felt her hand rubbing his thighs. "Don't you have to be at the studio in a couple of hours?" His right eyebrow, embedded with a piercing, raised at her. 

She chuckled, letting her hand rub against his cock that had hardened in the wake of morning wood. Betraying him entirely as he's inhaling sharply at her actions. 

"I just need two hours with you," She responds. "And maybe one to get ready." She adds before smiling. Her eyes glistened with lust, and Choso couldn't deny that look. 

"Help yourself." He responds, getting even more comfortable in his king-sized bed. His hands still rest behind his head because he wouldn't have cared for her to use him as she pleased. 

With a pleased smile, she leaned closer to peck his lips before leaving a trail of kisses on his bare chest and traveling downward to disappear under the gray-colored duvet that covered them both. 

Choso was waiting for her to notice the impulse thing he did yesterday. Quite afraid of her reaction because maybe he had gone a bit overboard. He wasn't sure she loved him as much as he loved her. 

Choso!" She climbs back from under the blanket and quickly tugs it off the two of them. "What the fuck is this?" Her acrylic tapered square-shaped nails trace alongside his waist, and that simple movement causes his pale skin to garnish with goosebumps. 

"Surprise cupcake." He gives her a cheeky grin. 

"Surprise my ass!" 

Just above his waist, stopping right where his white-haired happy trail ended, was her name in old English font. 

Y/N.

He couldn't read her facial expressions. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but her mouth held back a snicker. Y/N's fingers traced alongside the tattoo's outline that imprinted Choso's skin.

"I can't believe you did this insane shit." She stares at Choso and then at the tattoo before giggling. "You're so insane, but I love you for that." 

Choso didn't think she knew what she had just said because before he could respond, she was kissing the tattoo so delicately that it caused Choso’s toes to curl in anticipation. Her tongue traces the outline of each lettering on his skin, and Choso could feel the precum on his tip immediately stain his Calvin Klein boxers. 

"Fuck!" He breathed out, letting his head sink into the back of his hands resting behind his head. 

His boxers were removed, and soon, his body relaxed under the feeling of her tongue licking at the precum on his tip as if it were a sweet delight. He peeks through his long eyelashes at the way her tongue glides up and down his thick shaft before engulfing his cock in her mouth without a care. The sound of Y/N gagging on his cock followed by the sight of saliva pooling out her mouth caused Choso’s skin to heat up instantly. He removed one hand from the back of his head to palm at the top of her head. His fingers fiddle with the silk scarf that protects her hair for the night while he guides her head up and down his hardened cock like a sports ball on a court. 

His dark eyes opened and were met with Y/N’s, whose hands flickered up and down his cock before briefly letting the pad of her thumb rub at his plump pink-shaded tip, smearing the precum and saliva that coated it. It drove Choso mad at the way she looked at him. It was as if he was the best thing since sliced bread when, in reality, Choso was just some musician who, on some days, couldn’t even keep his eyes open as he was in the studio high on whatever drug he consumed that morning. 

She released his cock with a pop before she removed the remaining amount of clothes. First, it was the yellow-colored Calvin Klein cheeky underwear—she was a brand ambassador for them (of course, he knew that). Then, it was the oversized t-shirt that belonged to him that she managed to look better in. Her brown skin glistened in the sunlight that shone through the high-rise windows in Choso’s penthouse. The warmth of her thighs on his side from straddling his lip caused Choso to smile. His eyebrows raised in curiosity at what was her next move. When he said, help yourself—he didn’t expect her to want to ride him. 

His body tensed up at the feeling of her cunt sinking further down on his cock. His body instantly reacted immediately because that was just the charm Y/N had on him. The littlest things could have had his cock twitching in whatever pair of sweatpants he wore. His fingers clutched at her waist while he guided her hips at a pace that was wonderful for both of them to enjoy. Such a little thing like this made Choso realize even more why that insane impulse idea he did the previous night was even more justified. He was in love. He showed it when they had sex. From his last relationships and embarrassing one-night stands that led to signed NDAs, he didn’t care to use them for a quick nut and go on about his business. But with her, with Y/N, he made love to her as if, just in the blink of an eye, she wouldn’t be here anymore. He ate her out as if it was the last thing he had eaten in fuckin’ centuries. He wanted all of her when he had a vision to please her when they had sex. 

“Look at you,” Choso’s voice is a sweet, teasing tune, similar to his most recent single. His fingers trace the outline of her stretch marks that connect from her thighs to her love handles. “Helpin’ yourself. Need help?” He chuckles.

Quickly, he’s thrusting his hips upward to meet Y/N’s sudden bounce. He felt her nails piercing his bare chest, bracing herself for his abrupt thrusting. Her plump, kiss-swollen lips gasped apart to let out a moan that caused Choso to feel feral. He wanted to flip her over—have his fuckin’ way with her. Fuck her into the mattress to show to her that she was his and only his. It was the only way—but no, Choso had to let her do her. Let her fuck him how she pleases. 

So the grasp he had on her waist loosened. His thrusts that met with her bouncing abruptly stopped, and he relaxed under her weight. The only thing the rockstar could do was glance up at her completely lovestruck—completely pussy drunk. 

“Thought you were helping me, hm?” She questions in between raspy whimpers that make Choso’s cock harder. 

“You’re a big girl, and you got it covered.” He spat back.

She couldn’t even respond to his words because she got lost in the pleasure of his cock kissing at that spot, which caused her to feel like she was on the fluffiest cloud. Her hips rocked backward and forwards. The headboard clashed against the wall, and Choso thanked every God that the property next to his was empty. He did not have the energy or time to deal with noise complaints. Especially given Y/N’s moans that only grew louder as she bounced on his cock as if it was the most critical task. He was trying so hard not to grab upon her, slam her harder on his cock—milk her out until she creamed on him. But no, he told her to help herself. 

“That’s my girl.” His brown eyes met hers when those words of praise fluttered off his lips.

If Choso could look close enough, he could see a sparkle in her eyes, and her pussy clench around his cock. 

“You’re doing well, Y/N. Is that what you want to hear?” He teasingly questioned. “You look so fucking beautiful riding me.” He adds, but this time—he no longer could control his impulse to feel upon his girlfriend. 

He ached for her touch. 

His hand finally found the place on her waist to help bob her upon his cock. His face flushed and was so hot— Choso knew that when his face got as red as the bottom of Y/N’s favorite red bottoms, he was about to cum. He felt his balls grow heavier with each pounce of Y/N, and the only thing he could utter was her name as if it was a lyric in one of his songs charting on the Billboard 100. 

“Fuck, I’m about to—” His words were cut off by Y/N.

“Me too, baby.” She huffs, rocking her hips fast to reach her pleasure wave. “Just tell me one thing, baby. Please.” She coos, and Choso can only nod. 

Whatever she wanted, she could have. Whatever she needed, she could get. Choso would give her the whole world plus some with how she rode him. 

“Tell me you love me.”

“Fuck, Y/N. You know I love you. I wouldn’t get your name tattooed on me.” Choso breathed out. 

“But I want you to say it when you cum,” She moans out. “So you have it imprinted on that silly brain of yours who makes you feel like that.”

Choso glanced into her eyes and realized she was serious about this. He was yanking her down so that her chest was on his and thrusting his hips upward, embracing her in a heated kiss that made him feel intoxicated. He was so intoxicated that he was questioning whether he should pull out now. Her teeth nibble at his lower lip just in time for them to come together. The feeling of her cunt pulsing around his cock drove the rockstar insane. When he pulled back from the kiss, his sweat-covered forward pressed against hers as he thrusts a couple more times, ensuring every droplet of his cum stayed inside her. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

[louisoffline]

FINALLY FINISHED THE REF SHEET PLUS OTHER DRAWINGS YAAYYY okay so i had the ref sheet done basically two days ago BUT i wanted to draw some more because my ref sheets look so......just stand there kinda scary so MORE ART !!! also skip if you are seeing this when i say our mcs twin bro......we are so mind connected with the skeleton sweaters my lord when i logged on and saw that both step 2 designs had them..........my goodness..i think we might just be the same person....

I want to try and flesh out relationships and dynamics more i think thats something i kind of struggle with with ocs so..that is what the rest of this post will be backstory, character traits, etc etc if you chose to read i will love you forever

Step 1: Gosh...I love making characters really reeaaallllyyy awkward and that's exactly what Lenae is. Her awkwardness is really just stemming from anxiety or nervousness. Qiu and her's dynamic is so sweet to me I love characters being to nervous to say things and then another saysit for them omg im weak yeah thats so them. Lenae and Tam on the other hand....it's not like Lenae doesn't liker her she knows she means well and is extremely sweet but Lenae just can't understand why she is so loud and energetic all the time, she finds it hard to keep up. She IS the sweetest kid you would ever come across though, she will do anything to see you smile. Her earmuffs are a constant, everyone else may think it's just a comfort thing but it is in fact a noise thing we just don't know that yet guys(undiagnosed autism is craayyy)

Step 2: Still being that same shy, sweet kid while looking emo AND TRANSGENDER?? not for the weak. Still shy and reserved maybe even more so but no one really expects anything else. I think meek is a very good descriptor, they get freaked so so easily like has never had a peaceful day in their life. However, Halloween IS their favorite time of the year, it's an aesthetics thing i guess. If you pass by Lenae in the halls you would probably think that they were on their last few threads of patience by the sour look on their face but no, they could be having the best day of their life with that face on. They found it tiring to keep that placid smile on their face all the time when it wasn't always real. In this stage Lenae has definitely started expierimenting with different art mediums like dabbling in painting, poetry, music, you name it. Qiu and Lenae are still the bestest friends ever(bestest crushes ever???) and it's actually kind of nice to have someone by your side who knows what you're going through with your gender identity struggle and everything. Lenae for sure feels bad for how they treated Tam just because they thought she was a little much, I mean it was kind of hypocritical, so they've been trying to make it up to her by being kind of everyly nice?? oh boy oh boy

Step 3: I really don't know a lot of what I could write for step 3 since like nothing of it is out in the actual game SO were just gonna go like personality kind of wise y'know? I think they've definitely mellowed out AT LEAST A LITTLE...like omg guys they can sometimes order for themselves at restaurants!! They're very opinionated and has a strong stance on what they believe but like not in a mean way they just don't understand why others would think differently. Building on their creative abilities, they probably have plans to go to a college for art or fashion. Or maybe they'll start their own business who knows! It's okay to not have everything planned out anymore, some spontaneity is welcome in their life. Now that they've finally been able to be more open, mainly around friends, they'll say something a little too...unsettling or freaky??? to be normal, it's a little weird to get used to oopsies

AND THATS ALL if you read all of this i appreciate you becasue this has been drafted up on my computer screen for multiple days I just did not know what to say siigghhh yeah i love this kid and I hope you guys do too teehee

[thepixelelf]

genres/tags: body swapping/your name au; mystery; angst; minwon are roommates; reader is a small town [gender neutral] living in a lonely world. warnings: coarse language; major character death (non graphic/not shown). wc: 1.8k

love triangle au requests

[where and, more importantly, when] In the past week and a half, Wonwoo has slept better than he's ever slept in his life.

Actually, maybe "better" isn't the best descriptor for his sleep. Longer, certainly. Dreamless.

When he closes his eyes, he no longer dreams through yours. He no longer finds himself trapped in your tiny town, in your lonesome loft, in your dead-end job...in your body.

Wonwoo keeps telling himself he should be happy; relieved. What he was calling a curse a few weeks ago is finally over. He isn't waking up in an unfamiliar body every other day anymore. You're not messing with his life anymore, intentionally or not. Yes, he should be thankful that all that body-swapping nonsense is over.

Groggy, eyes drooping, Wonwoo watches coffee drip from the Keurig into his whale shark-shaped mug. You'd bought that mug with his money, at the aquarium you went to in his body, since your small town doesn't have places like that. (And you've never left.)

((In your own body, anyway.))

The TV across the apartment plays the general news channel, but Wonwoo stopped paying attention at some point.

His phone lies face up on the counter in front of the coffeemaker, the daily journal app you used to keep him up to date on your shenanigans in his body open. If it weren't for your notes — and the kitschy mug in front of him — he'd almost believe that all the times he woke up and spent the day in your body were dreams.

Wednesday 10:38PM Obviously I didn't take your car to the aquarium. You city people drive like fucking animals. Makes me glad I've never left.

Thursday 3:45PM You don't act like it. -W

Friday 11:01PM It's not like I've never wanted to leave. I mean, you've spent enough time there to understand. Everyone wants to leave, but it's only the lucky ones who actually do. I know we've been complaining about this whole thing a lot. But... I don't know. It's been nice to not be me. For a little while. You probably understand by now why I can't leave. I know you've been receiving the calls. My mom's condition has been like that for years... I don't want to leave her alone.

Saturday 11:48PM I didn't mean to be nosy, but they called you/me yesterday. They said your mom was awake and asking for you... but she was unconscious again by the time I got to the home. I can take care of her too, when I'm you. If you're okay with it. If not, that's okay too.-W

Sunday 9:06PM She'd know you're not me. I don't want to scare her.

Monday 11:59PM I could still take care of her. From the sidelines. If you want. -W

Wonwoo stares at the last note he put in the log. He didn't swap with you that night, or any night since, so you haven't read it. Now he's finding it hard to accept that he'd settled for this mode of communication. You'd tried to trade phone numbers at one point, but his messages weren't sending. The ones that you'd sent as a test went through, but there were no notifications for them. By the time he'd thought to scroll through his old messages, it was like yours were always there. He knew it wasn't because you blocked him — he could check when he took over your body, after all — so it didn't really make sense.

Not that any of this made sense, but still.

Something must have happened for the swapping to suddenly stop with no warning, but then again, it's not like either of you got any warning when it started.

Sighing, Wonwoo pulls up your number and hovers his thumb over the call button. He's never spoken to you, really — only ever heard your voice when he was using it.

He taps his thumb and brings his phone up to his ear.

It rings until the automated voicemail message plays, and he hangs up.

Then tries again.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar voice answers.

Wonwoo blinks. He's never talked to you face to face, but he knows this voice is one he's never heard before. "Who is this?"

"Who is—" The voice chuckles. "You called me, buddy."

"I'm looking for..." Saying your name out loud feels strange. He's never told anyone about you.

"Sorry man, they must've given you a fake number."

Wonwoo frowns. "That's not possible." You sent those messages to him before with the exact number he's calling now. "Just a couple weeks ago we—"

"I've had this number for like two years, so I don't know what to tell you."

"Two years?" Carelessly, Wonwoo's hand shoots out to support himself on the counter, and he knocks over your whale shark mug. "Shit." Hot coffee spills all over fake marble, and the handle of the mug cracks completely off. "Fuck."

Wonwoo hangs up on the stranger even as they ask if he's okay, and he tosses his phone on a dry section of the counter so he can hold the broken handle of your mug in one hand and the rest in the other.

He doesn't get it. He really doesn't.

But he feels like crying.

Why did it stop?

Where did you go?

Why did he have to break the one thing he has here that's yours?

The front door of the apartment opens, and through it steps Mingyu in his work attire. He toes off his shoes, puts his wireless earbuds in their case, and when Wonwoo can't hold in a sniffle, Mingyu looks up at him.

He meets Wonwoo's teary eyes, glances at your broken mug, and, shocked— 

Whispers your name.

Wonwoo's mouth drops open. He can only stand frozen as Mingyu marches up to him and pulls him into a tight hug.

“Is that really you? It’s okay. It’s okay. We can go back and get you another one! Where were you? I’ve been— I thought—”

Careful not to touch him with the broken edges of your mug, Wonwoo pushes Mingyu off. “You knew?”

Mingyu’s eyes widen, and he backs off with a faux casual cough. “Haha… Knew what…?” he drawls, avoiding Wonwoo’s hard gaze and scratching the back of his neck.

“Don’t play stupid. You said their name.” Wonwoo puts the pieces of your mug on the counter. “How long?”

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Mingyu.”

“The whole time?” Mingyu flinches back, wincing with one eye peeked open to watch for Wonwoo’s reaction. “Um…”

Wonwoo feels dizzy. “The whole time?!” he echoes. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“They told me not to!” Mingyu puts his hands up in defense. “They were embarrassed I caught them so quickly.”

“But… You… Wait, the aquarium… You went together…?”

Leaning into it now, Mingyu talks over Wonwoo’s confusion. “So where are they? Do you know what happened? Why did the swapping thing stop? Did you figure out how it works? Are they ever coming back?”

Wonwoo snaps back to into it at that last question. “I don’t— I don’t know.”

“Well do you know where they are?” Mingyu steps closer, his brows furrowed. “I tried calling them but some random guy answered. And I don’t know why — I swear they’ve told me a million times — but every time I try to remember the name of their town, I can’t. It’s like a blank spot in my brain.”

Wonwoo frowns. “It’s—”

Wait.

“It’s…”

The name is on the the tip of his tongue, but why should it be stuck there? He was living every other day in that damned town.

“Right?” Mingyu says. He snaps his fingers. “I know it sounds something like… cargo, or gunley, or scarsborough, or—”

“—reporting to you live from Garneau—”

Both of them whip their heads toward the TV, where a news reporter stands in front of a woodsy area. The sky behind them is gray, and the trees are lit by flashing blue and red lights

“It’s been just over two years since a missing persons report was filed after a barn party that was held on the outskirts of Garneau.”

“‘Barn party’?” Mingyu repeats. “Isn’t that—?”

You were the first person Wonwoo had ever heard use the term, since you were planning on going to one with your shitty coworkers. Wonwoo told you not to go — not just because of that one asshole who would always look at you in a way that made Wonwoo shiver, but because barn parties, whatever they were, couldn’t be fun. He had no thoughts on whether or not it would be dangerous.

“This morning, intense rainstorms in a marshy area not far from that party led to the discovery of a human body in the mud. Forensics are showing the person to have been in their mid-twenties, and that their body was submerged for at least one year.”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenches.

“Other details are currently unknown, but speculation leads to a connection between the missing persons case from two years prior. We urge anyone with any information on—”

Mingyu gasps when the reporter says your name.

“—to come forward. Until more information is discovered, however, this has been—”

“What the fuck.” Mingyu looks over at Wonwoo, whose face is blank. “What the fuck. What the fuck!”

Wonwoo says nothing. He can’t.

A week and a half ago, he started looking up treatments for your mother’s condition and better homes for patients like her. He missed a deadline for one of his projects while searching for other places you could visit as him that you couldn’t go to in your town, like the giant indoor amusement park, or that cheesy rainforest-themed restaurant. The last time he was in your body, he left a bowl of sliced strawberries in your fridge after you lamented missing the day some client sent an edible arrangement to your work.

Was that two years ago for you? Did you ever even see them?

Wonwoo goes to the entrance of their apartment, grabs his jacket, shrugs it on while slipping into his shoes, and puts his hand on the doorknob.

Mingyu puts his hand over Wonwoo’s. “Where are you going?”

Jerking his wrist, Wonwoo yanks open the door. “To find them.”

Mingyu follows him into the hall. “Didn’t you see the news? They’re—” He stumbles, eyes wide and breath starting to grow uneven. Then he swallows that moment of realization down and meets Wonwoo’s eyes with an uncertain tilt to his mouth. “You really think you can find them?”

Wonwoo can't answer that. “But I'm going anyway.”

Running his hand through his hair, Mingyu turns around for a few seconds with the other hand on his hip. He sighs before dipping back into the apartment.

When he comes back out, his steps are heavy with determination.

“I'll drive.”

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

Guess who rewatched Marble Hornets recently and can't stop thinking about yandere!Masky and yandere!Hoodie.

Warnings: yandere characters; stalking; violence; some spoilers for the series;

  Tim who just feels incurably guilty. 

  Now that he thinks about it, he always felt that way, ever since he can remember. Like he was always at fault for something, even if that something wasn't privy to him. But now, well. He can't ignore where some of the guilt comes from.

  But can you really blame him for being so attached? He already lost so much, especially for someone who never had much to hold on to, to begin with. Still, he knows. He knows he should keep you away from him. And from that strange... Thing, the monster that has followed him since he was child. Or would monsters be a more accurate descriptor? Afterall, the Operator isn't the only danger you face when you choose to keep yourself around Tim.

  Because while Tim may feel guilty, Masky doesn't. Masky knows what he wants, and he always wants it with a precise, pinpoint precision. Does it matter if it's wrong? Well, he too has been wronged! He too didn't ask for this! Why should he deny himself a sliver of happiness, of comfort, when you're right there and already trust him so much? 

  Taking you isn't hard, even if you kick and scream and beg for him to let you go. Why would he? He fails to see the reason. And if you don't stop fighting against him, he might need to take some drastic measures. Yeah, broken bones are a pain to deal with, but nothing you can't handle.

  And Tim? Well... He feels guilty. And he doesn't remember much of what happens when the mask is on. Even at the lowest of rock bottoms, he still mourns the life you would still have if it wasn't for him, the normalcy you two could have possibly shared. He cares for you. But despite everything, you'll never see him truly fight against what he's doing to you, or what he truly wants. Because maybe, in a rather cruel twist of fate, this is what he wanted. 

  Someone to share the pain with.

  Brian, on the other hand, kind of... Doesn't care anymore.

  So much has happened, so much has been taken. At this point why parade around with a false sense of righteousness?

  There's always a certain hint of malice when it comes to Hoodie. He doesn't lament the situation, he doesn't pretend he wishes you had gotten away from him. You're right right he wants you, and friend, he's been just so alone alone alonealonealone.

  He isn't as erratic or prone to violence as Masky, but he's one for torment. To follow you around, to play with your anxieties, to leave messages behind. He's your shadow. And he'll run circles around you until you find yourself digging your own grave.

  But sometimes you see him. You see hints of Brian through the cracks of this husk of a person, he lifts his mask and you see him smile in that very specific way you remember from your friend. You hear him laugh or even crack a stupid joke specifically to see your reaction, which in the new situation you two now live in, feels completely out of place. But his voice sounds wrong. Ragged. There's a hint of venom that follows everything he does.

  He just wants some company. And at this point you both know he doesn't care what he has to do to keep you around.

[talia-black]

A Gift Repaid (Is But A Favor Owed)

(I started this a week after 2.3 went live. Clearly this sat in my WIPs before boredom resurrected it. Based on the 2.3 post-quest. Currently in the middle of a hurricane and the internet is out so I finally have no choice but to finish some of my WIPs.) 

Angsty, because Lord knows I can’t separate poor Aventurine from his trauma, but let me know if you want a fluffy sequel. 

Trailblazer!Gender neutral!Reader

(But I do use the name Stelle because I am a part of the AvenStelle agenda)

Stelle wants to repay Aventurine's gift, but doesn't have a single clue about how to do that. Maybe something just a little bit more will come of their clueless but sincere gesture.

Aventurine let out a well-earned sigh as he collapsed into bed. The weeks following his return to Pier Point had been nothing but a series of meetings, debriefs, more meetings, follow-up reports, and even more meetings. Leaving the normally free-wheeling gambler feeling restless and pent-up. Watching the drama unfold on the Radiant Feldspar had been his only form of entertainment. So naturally once the negotiations had settled and the Fool's prank had been dealt with, the Stoneheart had nothing to distract himself from the stack of paperwork taunting him from its perch on his desk.

Admittedly he had resorted to browsing one of his favorite online stores when he got the notification that the limited-edition model of the Astral Express was finally open for bidding. He won naturally, and it only took him a few seconds before he decided what to do with it.

Aventurine bundled up a few trinkets he had collected while on Penacony and had them packaged alongside the train model before shipping it off to the formerly-named Radiant Feldspar.

Stelle had been by far one of the most interesting and delightful characters he ever had the pleasure of meeting. Despite the power they wielded simply by hosting a Stellaron and being a member of the Astral Express Crew, they were almost chronically lawless and free-spirited. Although, squirrel-brained might be the most accurate descriptor. They could be in the middle of a punch line to some terrible dad joke one moment, and the next they are sprinting off because something shiny was poking out of a trashcan and they just had to take it with them. Every expensive gift he sent their way was met with sincere gratitude. But Stelle's wide-eyed, embarrassed blush didn't hold a candle to the expression of pure joy that lit up their entire face whenever they dug out something they deemed worthwhile out of a pile of abandoned boxes or an alley that looked like it could launch a thousand microbiology studies. Stelle was just so genuine and thoroughly lacking in any kind of malicious intent or agenda that it was impossible to not be endeared to them.

As far as the Stoneheart was concerned, the Astral Express' resident raccoon in human skin could have whatever their heart desired.

()()()()()()())()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Honestly, Aventurine forgot about the gift after a week. Work wasn't any less busy, and it was becoming clearer by the day that part of his punishment for damaging his cornerstone and putting two others in jeopardy was to be grounded on Pier Point until Diamond was forced to send him somewhere else.

Five weeks later, the gambler was willing to take a second shot at that Emanator if it meant he would be able to escape the never-ending mountain of paperwork. One way or the other.

Which is why he decided to spend an afternoon sifting through his backlog of physical mail instead of addressing the two-foot stack of papers that one of Obsidian's lackeys had dropped on his desk five minutes before his lunch break or the 1000+ emails sitting in his inbox.

The majority was junk. He was appalled that most of it got past his subordinates desk, and he happily watched the papers be chewed to pieces in the shredder. A few particularly inventive scam attempts even managed to get a chuckle out of him before they met their fate.

The slightly more personal letters were mildly amusing. Threats from past "friends", professions of love from strangers who had caught a glimpse of him at this place or the other. 

He would definitely need to have HR reevaluate the person who handled his mail.

Aventurine saved the packages for last, mainly because he knew those had been thoroughly inspected before they were even allowed in the building. One attempted bombing incident and now all of his shopping orders took a minimum of 72 hours before he was allowed to pick them up. But it wasn't until he had actually started to examine the boxes that he noticed something odd.

One of the packages wasn't so much a "package" as it was something vaguely spherical wrapped in newspaper. A shipping label that barely met postal requirements was the only thing holding it together, and the smell of burnt metal radiated from it. The sender's name had been smudged, which only fueled the gambler's curiosity.

Mostly confident whatever was in the package wouldn't kill him, Aventurine tore away the wrapping paper.

"What in the name of the Preservation-"

Aventurine hissed. His fingers had struck metal, nearly slicing his finger open on a particularly jagged corner. The rusted bronze burned in the low lighting Aventurine had illuminating his office, offset by the shiny aluminum that had been soldered to it. Aventurine continued to unwrap the package and it was only when the last of the newspaper had fallen to the floor that he was able to make out what it was.

Several pieces of scrap had been melded together in a caricature of a star. Different types of metal and alloys gleaned in the light of his office, and despite the patches of rust and wear on it, a lot of effort had clearly been put into it.

Aventurine had no clue what to make of it. It wasn't some high-end art piece if the shipping was anything to go by, and wasn't anything close to gifts people had attempted to bribe him with before. He reached down to pick through the wrapping and take a second look at the shipping label and a folded piece of paper fell out. It looked like standard cardstock, but Aventurine could see his name scratched on the top.

The gambler's intrigue was practically suffocating him at this point as he snatched the paper up and folded back the crease.

Hey Aventurine, hope you're doing alright. I've been stabbed before. It's not a fun experience once the adrenaline wears off and you can't get your legs to work properly. Make sure you wait at least a few days before trying to go out and pick a fight, or you'll wake up with very disappointed people hovering over you.

Sorry I didn't respond to your gift sooner. I would say social anxiety is bitch, but March has been nagging me to stop masking my vulnerability with humor.

Truthfully, I didn't know how to thank you. Excusing that little scuffle at the theme park (No hard feelings there. A lot of my friends have tried to maim me before) you've been great company and I wanted to give you something in return for all of the presents you’ve given me. It took me a while to decide on what exactly that was. I've watched a few of your poker games. You can make more credits in a single evening than I've ever had in my entire life. It wasn't until Dan Heng commented on all of the "junk" in my room that I had the idea of making something.

March 7th says I'm a hoarder. I prefer the term "low-budget collector". The metal you're holding was scavenged from a massive junkyard that most of Belobog's decommissioned robots end up in, though some of it came from abandoned cycranes I found near the Alchemy Commission. You wouldn't believe the types of odds and ends that get thrown in their dumpsters.

I had to ask for Himeko's help to actually weld the metal though. I think I did a pretty decent job for my first time, and aside from a few burns I made it through the experience unscathed. Word of advice: never touch the tip of a welding torch. Even after it's been off for ten minutes.

I really did like hanging out with you, Aventurine. Not a lot of people are willing to put up with my hyperactive raccoon brain for long, and it was nice to meet someone else who enjoys causing general mayhem. There should be another present in here if I get Pom-Pom to approve it.

Anyway, I hope you at least like this gift. If you don't, feel free to toss it.

May your journey lead you starward

-The Trailblazing Raccoon

Stelle

P.S. If you were serious about that round of cards, the Express will be staying at the Luofu for the next few months before we go out of range of the HoloNet for a while. I know a place with great food and mostly empty tables if you feel like stopping by.

Stelle.

The letter’s words blurred from how hard his hand was shaking.

Aventurine blinked furiously. A single tear escaped and smeared the postscript. He set the ornament gently on his desk before looking through the newspaper for a second envelope.

Instead of another folded note, there was a smaller envelope crookedly taped to what had been the inside of the newspaper. 

The Astral Express welcomes all who wish to move beyond their past and journey along the silver rails, no matter their intent or agenda. Ms. Topaz has already been granted an Express Pass, so it would be inconsiderate to not offer you one as well when a Trailblazer has vouched for you. The Pass enclosed will allow you to board the Astral Express whenever you wish, barring emergency circumstances or a crisis state. 

- The Conductor of the Astral Express, Pom-Pom

A golden ticket was nestled in the folded page. The rainbow sheen on its glossy gold surface was a perfect replica of the reflection of the stars outside Aventurine’s office window. 

Those same stars were the sole light in Aventurine’s penthouse apartment later that night as he drowned his memories and anxieties in a bottle of Penacony’s finest. His alcohol-addled brain scheming away as he clutched that golden ticket in a death grip. 

()()()()()()())()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

A few days later…

“Hey Stelle!” 

The Trailblazer in question looked up from their game to see March leaning into their room.

“You’ve got a package. Well, a few packages. And a letter.”

Stelle raised an eyebrow as March dropped six nicely-wrapped boxes and a letter on their bed.  

“Are you sure you haven’t gone over your budget this month?” March asked as Stelle reached for the letter. 

“I haven’t ordered anything,” Stelle mumbled, distracted by the ostentatious gold calligraphy decorating the front. The list of people she knew who would send them such a thing was short, and with the packages…

Stelle ripped open the envelope and leaned back, away from March’s prying gaze. 

Dear Stelle, 

It would be my honor to accept your invitation. The gifts I’ve sent are a small measure of my gratitude for such a thoughtful present, and I hope you won’t object to similar gestures in the future. I’ve never had the chance to visit the Luofu, but I managed to free a few days next week for me to spend at my leisure. You have my number, so if you’re looking for a little risky fun, give me a call. 

Your close friend, Aventurine <3

[archer-kacey]

I think it's really convenient that Mike is making sure everyone knows that Norman is white, but when the question of LGBTQ or minority characters comes up, suddenly it's a much more complex question. (I get he was asked, but you're telling me there's no possible way to leave it ambiguous?)

You leave everyone else's appearances and physical descriptors ambiguous, but this twitter interaction leads me to believe you have SOME idea of what you want your characters to look like so...which is it?

Funny thing about erasing the canonicity of the books is that you also erase any canonical descriptors for the other characters. Wally being incredibly old? Gone. Allison being platinum blonde and a Ginger Rogers look-alike? Gone. Sammy looking like a preying mantis? Gone as well. This gives you the perfect opportunity to get in there and start dropping more details about the characters that you claim to be passionate about. Answer that age old question- is Sammy Lawrence brunette or blonde?

What REALLY really puts a lit match in my gas tank, though, is something Mike pointed out himself. He says that the photo of Norman is in Joey's apartment, which is true.

But you know what else can be found in Joey Drew's apartment? Something that was retconned later on haphazardly?

"Local Artist Pushed Himself too Hard, Found Dead At Desk."

"Years later we find out he wasn't dead at his desk!"

"It was always in the apartment" is not the gotcha you think it is.

[theres-no-protocol-for-this]

Murderbot and Pronouns

This is my personal opinion, so take it as such. But it felt like something worth saying.

I used to get very frustrated when people used the wrong pronouns for Murderbot. I remember thinking more than once, why can't they just get it right.

But, a few years ago, my mother read All Systems Red in Russian of all languages. In that translation, Murderbot is referred to, partially, as a robot, which is masculine in that language. When she talked to me about this human-robot, it was also in Russian, and using masculine descriptors. It became "he" by translation.

I'm told that in the Hebrew translation, the pronouns are feminine, but that might be hearsay.

Then, a dear friend of mine finally finished ASR! And she kept referring to MB as a "she." When I asked my friend why she did it, she said it was because of how its voice is described at the beginning of the book.

She'd imagined a tough-looking butch with short hair, a no-fucks-given attitude, and a kind voice. Like herself.

And that made me pause. She had seen herself in Murderbot the same way I had. Her choice of pronouns was coming from her perspective of the world, not from a desire to misgender MB. She wasn't trying to hurt anyone. She'd missed the pronouns (especially in book one) and saw herself in the main character.

And I understood her logic.

The thing she helped me realize as we spoke is that MB has unusual-by-US-standards pronouns, and when people didn't get them right, it made me feel like they wouldn't accept my pronouns either. That their supposed disrespect would extend to me, the person.

But that wasn't true. My friend knows my pronouns and doesn't get them wrong. It was never about that.

So, now I try to be kinder and gentler when I see people call MB a he/she/they. What I want is for people to respect my pronouns because I'm a living, thinking being, and I want my autonomy to be respected. And by being observant and kind to one of my favorite characters, people showcase that they may be kind to me and respect my autonomy.

And that's what I tell them now. I care about MB's pronouns because its autonomy is one way for me to explore my autonomy in a world that wasn't willing to give me the freedom to be myself.

And I find that people understand that, just like they see themselves in MB, so do I. And why that makes it important for me to see them get its pronouns correct.

And some people didn't read the books deeply enough to really let the "It/Its" sink in. Or they're trying to reference Skarsgard-MB without misgendering the actual human playing MB.

Either way, may I recommend kindness and compassion?

You're valid, your frustrations are valid (and this is to everyone, not to anyone specific). You deserve to have the world acknowledge your pronouns and your autonomy!

[lenaellsi]

we really need to be able to separate "demon as species" and "demon as political affiliation" in good omens, because that is at the core of why so many people (including the characters in the show, especially aziraphale) are reluctant to acknowledge crowley as a true demon.

demon means BOTH "an angel who has fallen from heaven, has an animal aspect, and is weak to holy water and resistant to hellfire" and "an employee of hell who is loyal to satan." there is one word for both of these concepts. crowley fits one, but not the other. it's why he's simultaneously a "former demon" by his own words and also incredibly resistant to the idea that he is anything else.

not working for hell doesn't mean he's not really a demon. it doesn't mean he's in any better standing with god. it doesn't mean his fall wasn't something that changed him deeply, both on a physical level and as a person. it means he is struggling to find the vocabulary to define himself, because the system is not built for someone like him. it is impossible, in the minds of every character in the show except for crowley, to be a demon without being one of "the bad guys." it's impossible to have fallen without joining team hell.

the same is also true of angels. michael refers to aziraphale as a "former angel" in the same episode that crowley refers to himself as a "former demon." I don't think aziraphale would ever use that language for himself--he's very attached to his identity as an angel, and the closest he ever gets to calling himself anything else is when he's so upset at the end of the job minisode--but just as there's no word for a demon who is not associated with hell, there's no word for an angel who has been alienated from heaven.

but these identities still mean something for both crowley and aziraphale. a huge part of crowley’s personality and his moral code is his resistance to authority and his disdain for rules and predestination. likewise, a huge part of aziraphale’s personal code is still his allegiance to some sort of “greater good,” whether that be god or just a nebulous concept of a heaven that doesn’t exist.

and in addition to the philosophical divide, there are real tangible differences between the angel crowley used to be and the demon he is now. the distinction between “angel” and “demon” is not important in that it dictates whether a celestial being can be Good or Bad, but it is important in how it functions as a descriptor of the person’s prior life experiences, their relationship with god, and their physical characteristics.

[rd0265667]

Karina x Reader: Extra #2

Permanent Taglist: @cwpiqwon @justme-idle

You are not the main character, not even one of the smaller side characters

It's a blessing, to be frank. In a world where people get caught up in their main character syndrome, thinking that they, not others, are the center of the world and that others are inferior, knowing that you're not a main character is weirdly comforting. A side character who can just live in a small bubble and exists for that 5 seconds at the side of the screen. No cruel twists of fate for 'character development', no weird drama to 'push the plot'. What's worse was that some who think that they're the main character were, obnoxious and stubborn in their belief, hard to handle, but to be honest, there is one main character in your school. Yoo Jimin. Otherwise known as Karina.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't have a small crush on Karina. Small also isn't exactly an accurate descriptor at that too, but hey, she's perfect. The Top Scorer in almost every subject, talented and gorgeous, it wasn't out of the ordinary to see her locker stocked to the brim full of confession letters and flowers from her countless admirers. So, what business does extra #2 have with THE Karina. Well, remember how you said she was the top scorer in almost every subject? Yeh, she had a weakness, math. And as luck would have it, math was your forte. Through countless hours of tuition as a kid, math came relatively naturally to you. You had heard of Karina's ineptitude with mathematics, but you always assumed that she'd find tuition outside of school, or just keep doing it till she got it. So it shook you pretty hard when your mathematics teacher made you stay back to have a chat, as he explained how Karina was failing math and needed help. Desperately.

"No, Karina, you bring the exponent down here, not change it." You explained as you leaned over, using your pencil to trace the workings. Logarithms. The great joy to everyone who goes through it

"Oh right..." Karina softly groaned as she changed her workings, going back to trying the worksheet as you settled back to your resting position, assuming an upright and relatively awkward position.

Pulling out your phone, you looked through the chapters you had to cover with Karina, not going to be any fun, calculus and stats remained the hulking giants in the smoke that threatened to burn the bridge.

Suddenly, you felt a chill go down my spine, feeling eyes on your back. Turning, you saw 3 girls, hiding behind a column as they were seemingly monitoring you.

"Umm, Karina, do you know them?" you asked as you lightly nudged Karina, gesturing to the three girls who instantly tried to duck away

"Ning, Aeri, Min, stop being weird, you're scaring my friend!" She chided as she gestured them over, the three sheepishly walking over

"Sorry about that Ji, this one insisted we watch." Winter explained, gesturing to Giselle, who raised her hands to surrender.

"Y/N, I've got to go, I'll see you here tomorrow, same time?" She asked as she hurriedly shoved her stuff into the bag

"Sure thing Karina, see you!" You waved, smiling awkwardly

"Call me Jimin!" She said, before running off with the 3 other girls

"Jimin" You kept repeating, laying in bed

It's a known fact that Karina was gorgeous, drop dead gorgeous, but now, after seeing her up close, gorgeous was an understatement. No words could convey the true extent of her beauty, and through the entire tutoring session, you couldn't help but glance or even out right stare at her. It's a wonder she didn't think you were weird to be honest

As you laid in bed, your mind began to wander away, to the first time your not so small crush on Karina formed

At that time, she didn't know who you was, and you didn't know who she was. Just two rookies in the volleyball team. While with the knowledge you have now, with Karina being your school's ace spiker, while you left the team after sustaining a serious shoulder injury, you'd scoff at the notion of being better than Karina, you were, well, once was. Being the child of a volleyball player, you had spent hours after finishing homework playing volleyball with your mom, a fun way to bond with her, so you had learned and grown a solid bedrock of skills. Paired up with Karina, you taught her some basic skills, and Karina, the protege she was, picked it all up easily. During the training sessions with her, you found yourself falling for her, her beautiful smile, her laugh and playful nature. Stories don't go that well for side characters however, as the two of you were separated to two different teams, with limited interactions. In those limited interactions however, those slivers of light, you found yourself falling, and falling hard.

As time went on, you actually got closer to Jimin, instead of splitting apart like you did during your volleyball days. With your help, Jimin's math slowly improved, with her grades reflecting that change. Through that time however, your relationship with Jimin never grew greater than friends. Weirdly enough, you got closer to Minjeong than you did Jimin, only now noticing that you shared two classes, Psychology and Economics. Despite being an introvert, Minjeong grew to be good friends with you, showing you a different, more playful side.

Sat in the lecture hall, you tried your best to focus on your economics teacher, Mr Fai's class, as he went on and on about fiscal and monetary policies, pros and cons, such and such. Mr Fai was a great teacher, especially for a relatively dry subject like economics, and usually, you would be paying full attention to him. Well, usually. This time, your eyes were trained onto none other than the girl of your dreams, Jimin. The only one with a free period before a planned hang out, Jimin had opted to do some revision outside the lecture hall, much to the dismay of your grades. Suddenly, you felt a chill up your spine, feeling a presence close to your back.

"Keep looking at Ms Yoo over there instead of Mr Fai's lectures and he's gonna gouge your eyes out."

You quickly turned, seeing Minjeong looking at you with a smirk. Yeh, she knew about your little crush on Jimin too. Well, her and Aeri, the latter having been asleep near you two so long you forgot she was there.

"I'm his favourite student Min, I'm sure he'll let me slack once." You said, going back to admiring Jimin.

"Whatever." Winter said with a chuckle, playfully shoving you before turning back to the lecture, shrugging to Mr Fai who shook his head with a smirk, glancing at Jimin, before continuing his lecture

As time went on, you tried to spend more time with Karina, endear yourself to her, but it was tough. While you were her tutor, other than math, you couldn't really help her with any other subjects, and tended to leave her alone to allow her to study. Time flew in the final year of your schooling life, national exams rushing by too. Before any of you knew it, the National exams all of you had spent so long running towards was finally over, now, the last event of your school life. Grad Night. The piece de resistance of your school life, in your opinion, at least for you. Fidgeting in front of your mirror, you groan at your little sister as she adjusts your attire.

"Han, please, it's been half an hour, it's grad night, not nuclear physics." You exclaimed in frustration

"Well yeh, obviously. You could probably handle nuclear physics, but your fashion blind ass cannot handle grad night." Hanni quipped as you rolled your eyes, her tiny stature getting up on her step stool, then leaning toward your hair, styling it one last time, before letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Okay, all done! Oh, and Karina's been here for the last 10 minutes." Hanni said with a casual tone, but your eyes almost bolted out of your head, causing you to jump, and you ran out of the room, panting as you looked at the living room, then checking the road outside.

The moment your sister's laughter echoed in the small corridor was the moment you calmed down a little, though a little part of you wanted to strangle the little gremlin. You loved her, but boy did she know how to set you off.

"Pham Ngoc Han, I swear to god." You began to talk, but Hanni immediately bolted away.

"Get away from me with that Government name shiiiii!" Hanni shouted back, running as you chuckled.

"Good Luck with Karina! Don't come home if she isn't dating you!" She shouted once again, before locking her door.

"Pham Ngoc Han!" You shouted again, slamming the door before sighing, leaning back on the door.

"It's going to be fine, just go alright?" Hanni whispered through the door, causing you to smile a little. Gremlin she was, but to be fair to her, the little gremlin did love you.

Hearing honking from outside the house, you bid Hanni farewell, before rushing to the door, seeing Minjeong in a limousine she had booked for all of you.

Climbing into the vehicle, you said hello to Minjeong, but it was clearly not the matter on Minjeong's mind, as once the door closed, Minjeong began hurriedly asking you.

"So what's the plan! Today's kinda your last chance you know? To confess to Ji." Winter asked, though you were a little taken aback.

"I'm not going to confess Minjeong, you know just as well as I do that I stand no chance with Jimin. I'm not going to ruin our relationship just because I want to indulge in some stupid fantasy that I could ever be with her."

Immediately, Minjeong's face went a little more somber.

"Y/N, you have to have a little more confide-" Before Minjeong could complete her sentence, you quickly cut her off.

"Where's the rest of the girls?" You asked, avoiding eye contact with Minjeong. A little reluctantly, Minjeong nodded, though a hint of disapproval was apparent on her face.

"Aeri woke up late, Jimin and Yi Zhuo are at her place to help her get ready." Minjeong replied, to which you nodded, before turning to look out of the window, allowing silence to fill the void in the limousine.

After about a 10 minutes drive, You noticed Aeri's house around the bend, seeing the three girls adorned in their beautiful gowns waiting by the curb.

"Hey!" Yi Zhuo enthusiastically greeted you and Minjeong before climbing into the limousine, followed closely by Aeri and Jimin, who was wearing a surgical mask, causing your eyebrow to crease in slight worry.

"Sorry about being late, someone was up too late reading Fanfiction." Jimin jokingly said, throwing a playful glance at Aeri who raised her hand in defence.

"Let me guess, there was a meet cute in college, and after some drama, one misunderstanding, maybe a love triangle, maybe even parents disapproval, the two leads finally get together and share a kiss to cap the story. Did I miss anything?" Minjeong playfully asked, Jimin and Yi Zhuo suppressing a chuckle as Aeri's head lowered a little in embarrassment.

"Listen, it's cute alright? It may be cliche, but its nice to think about. That one day, at the end of the rainbow, there'll be someone who truly gets you, loves and accepts you for who you are." Aeri began to retort, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

"That's for the main characters only though..." You muttered, to which Aeri tilted her head in confusion.

"These kind of happy endings aren't for everyone, those are reserved for main characters only isn't it?" You questioned, maybe a little too passionately as all eyes in the limousine turned to you. You could even see the driver's eyebrow raise in the rear view mirror.

"That might be true, but everyone's a main character, be it in their own story or someone else's." Aeri replied, sharing a little glance with the other 3 girls in the limousine, a little worried by your statements.

Just as you were about to reply, Jimin spoke up, "You're a main character in my Story Y/N. All of you are. So don't lose hope alright? I'm sure you'll get together with the one right for you soon. Also, it's prom, lighten up!" Jimin said as she jokingly punched you in the shoulder, causing you to quickly quieten down, a small smile spreading across your face at Jimin's words. As you turned to the window, glancing out as endless scenarios played out in your head, you saw Aeri lean over to Minjeong, whispering something to her, the both of them laughing out as they both smirked at you. You didn't hear what they said, but you could more or less figure it out, proceeding to flip her off, an act she playfully returned.

After what felt like an oddly long time, the 5 of you were dropped off at the hotel where your prom was being held, the 3 girls scattering around to find some of their other friends for photos, though Jimin seemed weirdly reluctant to do so.

Seeing Sakura, a mutual friend, you quickly called her over, asking a favour of her.

"Hey, Sakura, could you help me take a picture with Jimin?" A request that she quickly agreed to, putting her bag down as you walked beside Jimin.

"Hey Ji, let's get a picture together." You asked, to which Jimin seemed a little nervous.

Using her hand to beckon you closer, she tiptoed, leaning towards your ear, whispering in your ear.

Turning to her, you reached your hand to her mask, watching her face be clouded by a veil of insecurity, a look not usual for Jimin.

"You'll look amazing Jimin, it's you, you're always stunning. Anyways, I'm sure it's not even that big anyways." You reassured her, causing her to nod, letting you take the mask off her.

"See, pretty as always." You smiled, causing a smile to spread across Jimin's face as she kept her mask in her bag.

Suddenly realising what you had done, you quickly withdrew away from her a little, confused as to what had possessed you to do something like that.

Turning to face the camera, Jimin looked at you confusedly as she turned to Sakura, who shrugged.

"Why so awkward Y/N, come on!" Jimin said, quickly wrapping her hand around your waist then pulling you closer to her, her other hand guiding you hand over her shoulder.

"I swear you've never taken one of these pictures." Jimin playfully jabbed, to which you wordlessly nodded and forcing a smile, unable to muster any words to be uttered.

After posing for the pictures, you heard the ushers announcing that the doors were open, just as the other girls had came back, now planning to enter the hall together. As Yi Zhuo pulled Jimin towards her, talking about some post she had seen on Instagram, you looked at Aeri and Minjeong, both of whom had seen what had happened between you and Jimin.

"Say, Aeri, in how many of your fanfictions have you read in the last month, did that scene happened, almost moment for moment." Minjeong asked, smirking at you

"Hmm, pretty much all of them." Aeri replied, both girls immediately giggling as you rolled your eyes, but curiously, you could not wipe the smile of your face

Sitting at the banquet tables, your group sat about, consuming fine dining that was not exactly worth the price tag, but hey, you came for the experience, not the food. With the student council's organised performances, many laughs were shared, applauses given, smuggled in whisky shared, though your group made it a point to drink in moderation thankfully. As the evening drew to a close, the event photographer made her way to your table, signalling for you to huddle together. The 5 of you huddled together, and Minjeong looked at Aeri with a playful glint in her eye.

"Get ready." Aeri whispered into your ear, but before you could question what was going on, Minjeong stumbled forward, acting sufficiently drunk to play it off, causing Jimin to tumble forward. Bolting forward, you grabbed Jimin by the hand, steadying her as the two of you shared prolonged eye contact, losing yourself into the galaxies behind her irises.

Proud of what they had done, Minjeong and Aeri high-fived, all smiles while Yi Zhuo went up to the two of you, worried at what had just happened.

Embarrassed, you let out a soft cough, clearing the awkward air that had filled the room, letting go of Karina's hand as she steadied herself, before turning to hide the blush on your face.

"Minjeong I'm going to kill you, I swear." You whispered to Minjeong, who rolled her eyes playfully, pointing to the camera as the group photos were snapped.

While the rest of the group interacted with the rest of their friends, you hung back a little, thinking back on the fall. Maybe you were just imagining things, but was there a spark there? Did Jimin feel the way you did? Could you...?

Trying to compose your thoughts, you heard Minjeong shouting your name, gesturing to the limousine outside the building. Seeing the other 3 girls already having entered the limousine, you walked there with Minjeong, who hurriedly grabbed you.

"Listen, I'm going to be the first to get dropped off later, so I won't be there to push you. This is your best chance to confess to Jimin alright? I don't think you would want to look back on today and regret not asking her. Do it alright?" Minjeong whispered, and by the end of it, the two of you were in the limousine.

Again, the 5 of you were back in the limousine, joking around and discussing how the prom went, slowly, the limousine had reached its destinations. First was Minjeong, who winked at you just before she left the van. Then, Yi Zhuo was dropped off, and finally, Aeri, who whispered a soft "good luck" to you before getting off the limousine.

Now, only two remained, you and Jimin. You knew this was Minjeong's work, but you didn't know whether to thank her or curse her. You and Jimin made small talk, something you both enjoyed, making the rather long ride feel like just another one of your hang out sessions waiting for the other 3 girls after tutoring sessions. Chatting about a possible internship Jimin was chasing, you couldn't help but admire her as she spoke, her elegance and poise amazing you, all that in her amazing dress, she was a Disney Princess, a perfect Princess at that. Eventually, it had to come to an end, as you saw your street approaching, you looked down, contemplating about what to do.

Could you really be a main character in Jimin's story? You thought if Minjeong could be right. Could you really live with yourself if you didn't at least try? Those magical moments at prom had to be a sign, didn't it? Seeing your building in the distance, you realised you didn't have much more time to hesitate.

It was now or never.

Nervously, you turned to Jimin, hesitating for a moment as you saw her beautiful face illuminated in the moonlight. It all seemed perfect, the final moments of a fairy tale.

"Hey, Jimin. Do you think we'll hang out in the future?" You asked, sucking in your breath as you nervously waited for her answer.

"Of course, Aeri's been thinking of getting us to get together to play badminton, and, we're all in the group chat, we ca organise meetups anytime, so yeh, I'm sure we'll hang out in the future." Replied Jimin, a little confused at the question.

"No, I mean, me and you." You replied resolutely, nerves gripping you even tighter.

"Hmm?" Jimin hummed in curiosity.

"What I'm saying is, do you want to grab dinner together some time soon?" You blurted out, trying your best to not turn your head away

Jimin's smile dropped a little, turning to an awkward smile.

"Oh my g-, Y/N. I'm sorry, but I'm not interested. It's not you, bu-" Jimin replied, and you felt your heart shatter.

Not wanting her to continue, you quickly cut her off, "Don't worry about it, it was a stupid question, and I knew what was going to happen anyways. I just didn't want to look back on tonight and regret not asking. "

Jimin smiled at you apologetically, but you couldn't look her in the eye, muttering soft denials under your breath.

"Let's just pretend this didn't happen alright? I don't want things to be awkward with the rest of the girls." Jimin asked, to which you wordlessly nodded.

As you saw your house around the corner, you hurriedly packed your belongings, catching the polaroid you had taken with her earlier, it's very presence seeming to taunt you

"Take care of yourself alright?" You quickly muttered under your breath, turning to the front to thank the taxi driver, then getting out of the taxi.

You heard Jimin mutter a goodbye, an air of tension obvious between you, but you didn't turn, not wanting to break.

Hearing the taxi's engine rev and drive off, you dragged your feet as you walked to your home, turning the lights on and closing the door as quietly as you could, careful not to wake your slumbering parents.

Opening the fridge, it's fluorescent lighting illuminated you in a harsh glow as you pulled out a bottle of corona beer. Popping it open, you took a big gulp before walking towards the balcony.

Taking a seat, you stared out of the house, reality hitting you, causing you to let out a loud and bitter chuckle

You had gotten too comfortable, too stupid.

Only main characters got their happy endings.

You're just extra #2.

[maleficore]

It always makes me feel so ehh when people use chosen!Durge when they strictly mean this bloodthirsty cruel person because be honest, what choice did they really have? Unless you play Durge as being incredibly suicidal and unhealthily self-sacrificing, telling Bhaal they will do his bidding is for the most part a survival choice. Durge as a character doesn't know Withers will just swoop in and bend the fabric of the universe to his will to save them, they have no idea that their refusal won't be the last thing they do. So it makes perfect sense for someone who is not necessarily an Evil person to go along simply because they're scared of dying (and being tortured in the Bhaal's domain forever), but both the game and a large portion of players refuse to acknowledge it.

Chosen Durge is always the baddie, a lost cause, and while that can well enough be true for some characters to me it's just.. boring? Unless you play/write them evil from start to finish, it really falls flat. Where are the blurry lines? Where's the moral complexity? Not everything is binary, but it feels like in Durge's case everyone from the characters in-universe to a lot of people engaging with the story only believe they can be one or the other. Completely different, changed person who would rather die than to endure Bhaal's hold on them or a monster so soaked through to the bone with Bhaal's taint, even amnesia wasn't enough to save them. That's what the "redeemed" and "chosen" shorthands look like to me. Even using [alignment]!Durge is better. Someone saying they made a redeemed!Durge tells me nothing. Yeah they let Bhaal kill them, great. What are they like, though.

Ezra could very well fall under the Chosen category, but he is SO far removed from what that means in the fandom, using it for him would be doing him a disservice. I refuse to simplify him that way, he has too many layers and is too complex as a character to put him in a box like that. Even alignment does a shoddy job at summarising him to me. People don't work like that. They're often self contradictory and don't think before they act. Okay his baseline is chaotic neutral, but sometimes he borders on evil and other times he's so incredibly selfless you could call him chaotic good even. Circumstance and emotions can affect people greatly!

It really just boils down to.. PLEASE try to get out of the black hole of Larian's rushed "Oh shit we need to put a bhaalspawn origin in this" black and white narrative and see just how many galaxies there are to explore. Don't constrain yourself to the story forks they established, you're just hurting your character writing in the long run and putting a big ass sign on them that pretty much makes them get lost in the sea of all the other "redeemed" and "chosen" Durges. They might make good descriptors if you're just crafting characters to play as, but I wish we dropped them entirely. It's not OC language, it's AU language for canon characters who already had all the work done on them by writers and that people at large know well enough to tell there's more to them than that. In here it doesn't work.

And I also consider it kind of TikTok lazy and uncreative to use, but that's just me.

[topaz-mutiny]

I think the fans are underestimating how differently people can process things.

I am consistently seeing posts say "Ashton/Tal were repeatedly warned the shard was not for them/will 100% kill them", when this was absolutely not the case, and, more importantly, it is very likely for groups of people to completely misinterpret the warnings. Even if they've known each other and loved each other for a decade.

I certainly thought the warnings were not clear or frequent enough so I was shocked like lightning in the latest episode that they were meant to be absolute death flags.

Please note that I'll mostly refer to the fictional characters, I don't want to bring the people behind the characters too much into this.

First, I would like to point out, the show takes place over weeks and months with plenty of breaks and interruptions. That is plenty of time and opportunity for memories to get faded, muddled, crossed-over with other memories, etc.

The "warnings" happened two weeks to a month ago. And even when they were fresh on the cast's mind, here are the warnings verbatim (bold is my emphasis):

But be warned, holding the strength of the two in one vessel might sunder it. You bear the dormant strength of the empress. Find and bestow the might of the emperor.

- Evontra'vir, episode 74, aired October 5th. The conversations move on to unrelated things with no followup.

Ashton: He also said it might be dangerous for these two shards to intermingle. Or he didn't say dangerous, he said that-- it could destroy me. Orym: --A chance the vessel could break. Laudna: --The vessel <air quotes> could break. Fearne: Wasn't there something if you put them together with the right thing that it'll be okay? Ashton: It might come together and be okay, yeah. -- Dancer: Maybe if it were to meet one of its own ilk, it could awaken. Allura: What you said as a point of warning likely is true. To have both within a singular vessel, it's possible one could survive, but it's also highly possible that it would rend you into a thousand pieces. -- Allura: We're in a strange area of experimentation and unknown knowledge. -- (after finding out Ashton has a fascimile of a Luxon beacon in their brain) FCG: So he's got two things in him or them? Allura: It would seem, which is why I'm a bit--Well, you're either the greatest weapon we could hope for in this time, or will be our end. I couldn't tell you. Orym: Boy, maybe we don't add a third thing. Ashton: I was put together by bits and pieces. This was not an intentional thing and it, I honestly shouldn't have survived it. It was, literally, I was put together with junk. Allura: In an odd way, your fragmented nature might be what keeps all of this in check. ... Perhaps we don't put another powerful entity within your form.

- Various, episode 76, aired October 19th.

To me, these warnings were not clear in the slightest.

To me, these warnings were interspersed with so many words like "possible", "might", and "chance" that I completely misinterpreted the situation as "For Ashton it is dangerous but doable" instead of "The Game Master is telling you Ashton's character sheet will be ripped up."

This is the problem with using in-character voices and using descriptors that imply chance or flexibility. They can drastically weaken the meaning of a phrase such that people like me will mistake it for something else.

Because that's how my brain works. "May", "chance", "perhaps" suggest to me a reasonable set of odds for an action and does not come across as the grave warning a game master would want.

And as a reminder, these muddled warnings were weeks apart and weeks away, which can make remembering the meaning even worse if you've already misinterpreted them. That's why I was 100% on board with Ashton taking the shard. It seemed reasonable but dangerous, so when Matt said "I warned you." in that grave tone and with that grave look I was thrown for a loop. I went "oh no! those were serious warnings!?" and the panic started setting in.

Also a contributing factor was the pressure and lack of communication from Bells Hells.

Fearne did not want the shard, and finally stated that thought aloud to Ashton. For Fearne and Ashton, that meant the only choice left was Ashton, because, for one reason or another, the 5 other people in Bells Hells repeatedly assumed and pushed the shard onto Fearne and wrote themselves out of the equasion. FIVE characters absolved themselves of being active participants. Once the idea of Fearne came to mind and this Emperor Fearne/Empress Ashton/Callowmoore shipping dicotomy, Bells Hells just stopped talking about it and never once considered if any of them should take the shard should Fearne refuse.

So... yeah that's how my brain works.