#and i will gladly answer questions about them

[bratdotcom]

He Needs Me!

swansea x coworker!reader ⋆ an au where you're his coworker

⋆ tags : coworkers/friends(?) to lovers, slowburn, angst(?), mutual pining

word count : 2k+ ( and proud !! ^^ ) ⋆

Swansea wonders why he was doing this.

Holding two mugs of warm coffee in his hands. He promised to keep the pot hot for you. He even said you made the brew better than he ever could.

He felt...soft.

There were many things Swansea was known for. Being soft wasn't one of them.

He voices his thoughts out loud to himself in the empty kitchen. "What the fuck am I doing..?" He sighs tiredly, putting both mugs on the counter with a soft clink as he awaits your return.

You were both playing with fire, doing this.

Crossing the line between decorum and affection. Genuine human connection in the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space. How cliche.

Swansea remembers the smile on your face when he praised your coffee making skills, the way you stretched out your arms to put away the tub. If it weren't for the knot in his back, he probably would've helped you.

"Where the hell is.." Before he can finish his sentence, you step into the kitchen. Smiley, as always.

He never could wrap his head around how you could be so...happy all the time. It reminded him of a certain someone he couldn't put his finger on.

The scowl on his face softens, ever so slightly.

"Finally, you're here. Jesus." Swansea huffs, crossing his arms over chest. "If I wanted to wait this long, I would have pulled out a chair myself."

He pushes off of the counter with a heave, two lukewarm mugs of coffee in his hands. "Here." He says gruffly, shoving a mug into your hand without question.

"Thanks for waiting for me." Is all you say in response, smiling at him gladly. Swansea bites back a mean comment to say, not wanting to unintentionally hurt your feelings.

"Always seeing the good in everything, don't ya, sunshine?" He uses the nickname sarcastically, he could practically see the energy radiating off of you. He further emphasizes his sarcasm with the usual frown he had accompanying his features. Deep set wrinkles tugging down his lips.

You take a long sip from your mug before responding. "I saw some hot packs in the med bay. Maybe Anya will let me nab some later."

You were so...caring. It made sense to him, you being the ship cook and all. You added a human touch that most of the crew missed while on the Tuplar.

He didn't get why you focused more on him than the others.

Him, of all people.

Swansea follows you to the dining table, setting down his aching muscles with another sigh. He looks at you with tired eyes.

"I never ask you to do things for me, you know."

"Well, you never complain about my cooking." You say back, smiling as you drink your lukewarm coffee. Is that all you do? Smile and slave away in a kitchen?

He shakes his head and looks away, eyes focusing on a corner of the room to keep himself from thinking about the way you looked at him. He had to keep it together. He wasn't the touchy type.

He had enough self-loathing in him to believe that anyway.

"What do you even do in that shower anyway? You were in there long enough for the coffee to get all shitty." His words were harsh, but he meant them with the utmost care possible.

He wanted to hear you talk again. Your voice was better on his ears than the hums of the ship he constantly heard throughout the workday.

You answer with your mug held to your chest, knees folded against the edge of the table."Oh, I was washing off the curry stains on my uniform." Swansea's mind circles back to the lunchtime from earlier, Daisuke accidentally spilling his leftovers on you. That kid needed to watch where he was going, but Swansea wasn't planning on being the one to tell him that.

His eyes steel on you. "Quit sitting like that. You're gonna pull a muscle or somethin'." He pokes your knee with the pad of his fingertip, his elbow against the wood of the dining table. Worn down and old, just like the rest of the ship.

"Sorry, sorry." You apologize with a chuckle, now sitting properly in your seat. Swansea rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath.

"Be careful next time." He says, fingers wrapped around the curve of his mug. He meant his words, he really did. Even though they came out mean. He couldn't control it.

Another thing he wished he could control was the way his eyes settled on you. Drawn to you like a moth to a flame. There was a reason why he avoided you like the plague.

"I fixed the sink like you asked." He says, silencing himself with a long sip from his mug. God, in the corner of his eye, he could see the appreciation written all over your face. "Good as new." He adds, lower back still hurting from kneeling down and fixing the sink on his own, without the help of his intern.

Some people were just better off by themselves. Including him.

"As good as this ol' girl can get, anyway." He's almost down to his last drops of coffee now. He wonders if you'll still want to talk to him after this. After everything he was doing to try and push you away.

"Thanks a ton, Swansea. I owe you a bunch." He was just doing his job.

Hearing you thank him for his work made his chest feel warm. He'd be damned if he wasn't lying to himself.

His beer belly presses against the table as he speaks. Swansea leans in closely. "You don't owe me anything." He replies, his much rougher hand almost inching towards yours. Tentatively, he pulls away.

In contrast to his, your hand was smooth. Barely noticeable scratches, marks of merit from your work. Feeding the hungry mouths of the crew, using your own heart and skill.

He appreciated you more than you thought.

"You work too hard, Swansea." Your hand slides closer to his.

His eyes drop slightly past the tired bags of his eyes. He sees how close your hand was to his.

"I work enough. You don't have to give a damn for a man like me."

Swansea almost wants to pull away, but something about this moment feels right to him. It's been...so long since he's had a proper conversation. Where someone cared for him. Worried for him. He heard the way you spoke.

"You're not just any man. Not to me."

He had to go now. Now or never. He was in too deep.

Swansea squares his shoulders, cup barely empty. He gets up to leave but feels something tugging on the back of his shirt.

Your hand.

"Don't go. Don't leave me here alone." You plead. "I'll pour you another cup of coffee. I'll do anything." You say, and as you say that, Swansea searches your eyes for something. Something more than just worry for a fellow employee's work-life balance.

He stays.

His rough hand gently removes yours from his shirt. The gruffness in his voice softens.

"You don't have to do that to make me stay." He says, going back to his seat.

He almost wants to take your hand again. The distress in your eyes was as clear as day to him. You were hurt.

He had to know what was wrong. All these years of working with you, and he had nothing to show of it besides pushing you away and keeping himself barely out of reach. Enough to talk but never to touch.

"I have something to tell you. Please don't go. Please." The shake in your voice makes him sink further into his seat. He wasn't planning on going anywhere. Not until you told him what was wrong.

Swansea has to choose his words carefully now. He didn't want to make things worse. The fatigue in his eyes meets yours.

"Tell me what's botherin' you and I'll lend an ear. I ain't going nowhere."

His words hang in the air alongside the mechanical hums of the ship.

"Trust me."

Swansea places his hand atop yours as he says that, reassuring you with the weight of his palm against your own.

He was holding your hand now. In his own way.

Fingertips against the pulse of your wrist. You could feel his heartbeat in between your fingers. Intimacy hidden behind subtle touches on wood coated lacquer.

"Tell me what's wrong." Swansea's voice softens more, his hand now around your wrist. He still keeps his hold on you to remind you that he's still there.

You can't bear to look him in the eye now, even if you always looked for him first. Your voice is low, almost merging with the Tuplar's sounds.

"They're.." You had no idea why you were drawing out your words like this. Making Swansea wait was a pain as much as it was to yourself.

His hold on your wrist tightens quietly as if he was trying to encourage you to continue on. Swansea was a prepared man. He knew the ins and outs of the line of work you both found yourselves in.

Your eyes were glued preemptively to the floor now as you finished your sentence.

"They're replacing me, Swansea."

Swansea stares at you quietly. Soaking in what you said.

It was inevitable, wasn't it? Their lives didn't mean as much as a rat's ass to the company.

He should've seen this coming. He knew how things worked around here.

He leans in attentively, his elbows now pressed against the table.

"Why?" He asks, genuinely wondering why the Pony Express would ever replace you. It would've made more sense to Swansea if they replaced him.

It should've been him, not you.

In his eyes, you did nothing wrong to deserve this. You never did. Sure, you acted stupid sometimes. But enough time on a piece of shit like this does that to a person sometimes.

You were the heart of the ship. You kept people fed. You reminded them of the home waiting for them. A taste of what they were leaving behind.

You pull your hand away, resting it on top of your shoulder. Forearm against the center of your chest. Right across your ribs.

You've thought of this moment over and over again in your head.

It was always harder to say something when the thing on your mind was right in front of you, wasn't it? You loved him more than you loved the job itself. You actively sought him out during his lunch breaks, secretly sliding him extras onto his plate when he liked the dish you made.

You didn't say it, but your actions were enough to show you saw him as someone more.

You didn't want to leave. Not yet.

A genuine frown plays on his wrinkles as you pull away. You still won't look him in the eye.

"I got the papers the first day we boarded. After this job is over, they plan on upgrading the living area with automated food giving machines." That was the fancy way to put it, using professional jargon the higher ups spoke in to hide the emotion in your voice. The uncertainty of what was to come for the both of you.

Finally, you look at him. Eyes wet with tears.

"I'm getting replaced by...by vending machines, Swansea."

Your arms tighten around your chest, your other hand against your sleeve, slowly closing in on yourself as if you were in acceptance of your situation. Like there was nothing you could do.

Vending machines. They were replacing you with vending machines.

Your last trip around the stars and you decide that he's the one you want to spend your final days and nights with.

He didn't know what was going to kill him first. You or the constant stress of never-ending work needing to be done.

And if he had to choose a way to die surrounded by the stars, he'd choose you.

The angry, confused tears start to well up in your eyes.

"Don't..." Swansea sighs to himself. Again, what the fuck was he doing? He should've left when he had the chance. Every signal in his body told him to leave.

But his legs didn't move.

It may have been selfish, but he didn't want to see you cry. He was all about tough love, but even he knew his limits.

He runs a hand through his short brown hair, smoothing out the strands as he thinks of what to do to help you. To comfort you.

Not as a coworker, but as a man.

"C'mere."

Swansea breathes through his nose, arms wide open for you to hug. He nudges the leg of the table out of the way to welcome you into his embrace without you being squished in between him and the piece of furniture. Another small way of showing how much he cared for you.

You were always on his mind, even without thought.

He wasn't always the best with words. By God, he was scared as you dragged yourself out of your chair and into his arms.

He can feel the beat of your chest against his. Your hearts connected together through the way you rested against his chest, his big arms wrapped around you almost protectively.

"I won't let them take you away from me." There was a tinge of vulnerability in his tone as he speaks.

He crumbles in your arms. The smell of your hair fills his lungs. The comforts of the kitchen mixed with your shampoo hit his senses in the best way possible. You fit perfectly against him, the palm of his hand in the small of your back.

"I'm here for you. Don't..." Swansea realizes what he's saying. His words were almost a confession. He didn't know what he was doing, but he knew he was giving you a promise.

A promise that he wouldn't leave, that he wouldn't let them take you away.

A promise that he'd keep.

With a calloused thumb, he wordlessly wipes away your tears. His gaze fully softened.

His hand comes to a still, resting against your cheek. He looks down at you quietly.

"You're worth more than ya think to the crew." The warmth of your skin mixes with his.

"And you're worth more than ya think to me."

You sniffle, finding comfort in his words.

"You know, I've always liked you." You smile at him, your fingers molding against the bone of his knuckles.

"You always cleaned your plate and never complained. You never had anything bad to say about my cooking." His eyes widen as you say your words.

He could disassemble machinery and put it back together himself as easily as he could tie his shoe. He knew the layout of the ship like the back of his hand.

And yet he didn't realize that you confessed to him hours before. You repeat what you said earlier, almost word for word.

His hand lowers down your cheek, thumb now thoughtfully pressed against the corner of your lip.

"I've always liked you too." Swansea confesses quietly, your hands travel further up his sides, to the planes of his shoulders. They settled there comfortably, as if that was where they were supposed to be all this time.

This was more than just camaraderie now. You were always more than just a friend.

"Can I kiss you?" Your thumbs caress along the fabric of his shirt.

A wry smile plays silently on his lips. Do you even have to ask that now? You just confessed your feelings to him. The feeling was mutual.

God, you were lucky that you were cute.

"Yes, sweetheart. You can kiss me." A deep chuckle leaves his chest at your words. He pulls you closer, encouraging you with a squeeze to the small of your back.

Gingerly, your hands find the collar of his shirt, you lean in to kiss him, pressing your lips against his. You tasted better than any bottle he's put to his lips in his life.

Swansea melts into the kiss. Years of yearning, words never said, all rolled into one. With the way you held onto him, it was like you never wanted this kiss to end. Like you never wanted to let go.

Finally, you pull away. Swansea smiles at you like a cocky idiot.

He gazes into your eyes, a look of love in them. A look that he wasn't going to forget any time soon.

"Never took ya to be such a good kisser, sweetheart." He comments, brushing your lower lip with his thumb.

[queenmuzz]

Emmrich stirs his tea, before taking a sip. It’s a bit stronger than he’s used to, but he doesn’t mind. He needs it for this conversation. He’s glad Neve has come to him while Rook and Manfred are on a little expedition to Treviso with Lucanis to pick up supplies.

“Has Rook asked you to look into this?”

Neve takes a sip, savouring its taste, before setting down. “No, but as they are my friend, it seemed to a fitting thing to do.”

Emmrich sighs. Neve has only the best of intentions, he is certain, but there’s a reason wisps and Manfred are attracted to her, she’s an inquisitive sort.

“If you respect that friendship, I beg you, please let it go.”

“But-“

He knows she won’t stop with a sudden refusal, in fact it will just push her harder. He must give her some information, even if it’s laced with poison, to deter her from seeking more.

“Let me tell you what I know, and by extension, what Rook knows”

She sits up, eyes sharp, nods as her crosses her prosthetic over her other leg

“I distinctly remember the day Rook was found by undead at the Ingellvar mausoleum.”

“That memorable, eh?”

“Not in living memory has a child been found in the necropolis.”

“So it wouldn’t be hard to cross reference where Room was found, and any visitors to the-“

He silences her with a hand.

“It’s not that we found an infant that makes it memorable, it’s the fact we found a living infant.”

The implication of that statement causes the usually unflappaple Neve to utter a gasp.

There’s nearly a minute of silence as she processes the new information.

“How often does something like this happen?”

He tries to keep his hands steady as he pours more tea into his cup. “Often enough that we must pause when a wail echoes through our halls. It’s often not the wind that causes us to send search parties into the depths. And for the most part, the best we can find is a tiny corpse.

“But why is Rook the only one to survive?”

“Who knows? With the way the necropolis halls shift and rearrange, it’s a miracle we were able to rescue Baby Rook at all. Perhaps it’s thanks to the Ingellvars, extinct since the storm age, being awoken by the first sign of life for over a century.” He usually gets along quite well with the extinct noble houses, on the account that they are all dead, but he now has a special affection for the Ingellvar family.

“That still doesn’t answer my question of where Rook comes from…”

“My dear Neve, it’s not just bodies that the noble houses bury the necropolis. Secrets, old shames, stains in virtue, and broken vows are often placed alongside the dead.” He regards at her look of horror. “Did you think Nevarra’s nobility had higher morals than Tevinter simply because we do not allow slavery? At least Tevinter has the practice of adoption being widely accepted in the upper echelons. No such thing here, I’m afraid. It’s your pedigree that matters, and it is carved in granite on the day of your birth.” He scoffs at the very concept that lineage determining a person’s future, but he knows he’s in the minority.

“So even if I was able to determine Rook’s parentage….”

“It would probably do more harm than good,” he warns, “Rook could be descended from King Markus himself for all we know, but without formal recognition, it means nothing but a giant target on their back. And I highly doubt the King would recognize them,” He neglects to explain WHY King Markus would be unable to. “So please… for Rook’s sake… Let. It. Be.”

Neve takes one more sip before asking one more question. “Do you think Rook suspects?”

“Oh undoubtedly! They may not have full access to Necropolis records, but they are clever enough to connect the joints together, so to speak. If they ever desire to know their parentage, I’ll gladly direct them to you, but considering how they talk about Myrna and Vorgoth, they consider the Mourn Watch their family. Being exiled because of some petty house rivalry has already left an emotional wound, and I would be loath to inflict more upon them.”

There’s the sound of skeletal footsteps, indicating that Manfred has returned along with Lucanis and Rook. Sure enough the door swings open revealing the two mourn watchers.

“Hello Professor! Oh, hi Neve!” Rook seems a bit surprised to see the latter.

“Rook! Glad to see you’re back!” He’s not putting on an act, Rook has that effect on people, brightening spirits by their very presence, and Emmrich intends to protect that. “How was the trip?”

“Great! Manfred was well behaved,” they pat his skull as the spirit hisses happily, “got some ingredients from the market, gonna teach Lucanis how to make a Mourn Watch speciality. It’ll be nice to taste a little bit of home…” there’s a moment of longing on their face, before Lucanis’s voice can be heard, cursing about why he has to lug the entire market haul to the pantry. “Sorry Lucanis! Coming!”

They vanish, leaving Emmrich, Neve, and Manfred, currently entranced by the tiny hourglass he’s purchased.

“A little bit of home, eh?”

“Indeed.”

Pretty sure we all agree that the moment Neve learns that MW Rook was found in the Necropolis as a baby she starts looking into their background and where they might have come from, right? (complete with cork board and red string)

After inquiring with senior members of the Mourn Watch and getting suspiciously stonewalled she finally just throws up her hands and confronts Emmrich directly. They all care for Rook, right? Who wouldn't want to know where they come from? She doesn't need sleep she needs answers, damnit!

And Emmrich sighs, puts down his tea, and very slowly explains to Neve, after extracting a promise of secrecy, that the most senior of the Mourn Watch do, in fact, know where Rook came from. They aren't the first to be discovered, after all, just one of the very few to be found still alive.

The Necropolis is vast. Lot's of uncovered corners and dark holes for a secret, unwanted child to be quietly removed to. Despite the protests of the Mortalitasi, the Nevarran nobles have unrestricted access the tombs and burial fields of their families, and it is not unheard of for the remains of unclaimed newborns to be found among those family graves.

Does Rook know? Perhaps. Rook is clever, and much like Emmrich, holds no love for the nobles of their birth land. Best to let the matter rest, hm?

[adhd-coyote]

Shiver was terrified.

There was a sleeping tubie in his arms, a too-small cadet clinging to his pants, and a pair of teenagers wracked with growing pains scurrying behind him. He was praying to the little gods his ori’vode had told him about that the tubie would stay asleep, because if any of them made too much noise, it was going to be over. Shiver could not let that happen.

He’d memorized schedules, camera positions, and multiple routes to their destination, and stuffed bags full of supplies in preparation. Honestly, for how hurried this plan had been, it was a good one, or at least he hoped it was. It had to be.

Step one: Pack everything he could carry into a bag stolen from one of the trainers.

Step two: Figure out and memorize a route, make sure to have back ups.

Step three: Go oldest to youngest- grab Cabu and Mirda, then Circuit, then CT-7814.

Step four: Get the hell off of Kamino.

And somehow do all of that without getting caught.

He’d managed the first three steps. Step four would likely be the most difficult. Shiver wasn’t even going to think about what they were gonna do once they were actually off planet. Right now, his only goal was to get them to the hangar, grab a ship, and leave. He could worry about after that later.

He’d already picked out a ship and slipped a carefully-measured sedative to its owner. Combined with Trainer Stilgor’s drinking habits, they’d have at least six hours before he woke up, and even longer before he realized his ship was gone. Plenty of time for Shiver and his hangers-on to steal it and be well on their way, so long as they reached the hangar without issue. Everything had gone smoothly so far, but Shiver wasn’t optimistic enough to think things would keep going that way.

He hated that halfway there, he was proven right.

Labored breathing drew his attention to Circuit, whose steps were getting more unsteady as he struggled to keep up. Circuit had always been weaker than the others - the result of some sort of genetic defect - and that day’s training had been hard on him. Shiver wished he could have given Circuit more time to rest, but they needed to leave as soon as possible.

Without speaking a word, Shiver handed the tubie over to Cabu, made sure the cadet was holding him right, and then pulled Circuit up into his arms. Circuit wrapped around him, legs around his waist and arms around his neck, and held tight. They kept going.

Miraculously, there weren’t any more issues. They made it to the hangar, which was blessedly empty, and Shiver used the stolen remote to unlock the ship and lower the ramp so they could hurry onboard. Shiver set Circuit down in one of the back seats of the cockpit, while Cabu handed the tubie off to Mirda and took the copilot’s seat to help prep for takeoff.

Shiver let instinct take over, grateful that medics received flight training and that their chosen ship was one he could fly. They were ready in no time, and after making sure all of the cadets were buckled and Mirda was holding 14 tight, Shiver grabbed hold of the yoke, took a deep breath, and took off.

[burningcheese-merchant]

The fankid designs look sooooo good and adoooorable! They are very pretty!

Say. Does Burning Spice train his kids to fight and be the strongest? Does Pepper Jack or Matar Paneer enjoy fighting as much as their dad? How does Golden Cheese deal with this kind of sheganigans? Do the parents favor a kid more over the other?

I'm very excited for them sorry for all the questions in one ask.

No, don't apologize, ask away! Ask a thousand questions if you want, I probably have an answer for them all because I genuinely did go way too hard crafting these little critters lol (and thank you so much for the compliment, level 0 artist here but I tried)

Spice absolutely trains them to fight lol. Him and Golden both make an effort to build them up as capable warriors. Everyone does, tbh: they train with the Golden Cheese Kingdom's army, they train with the Wild Spices, they train with the other Ancients and Beasts (although they're not Beasts anymore at this point, they all reformed alongside Spice in my canon here). Pepper Jack starts training a little extra with those who also use polearms like he does, while Matar Paneer trains more with melee fighters (the specific katar she uses were a gift from Cilantro Cobra, who is also responsible for training her to use them). But they're encouraged to learn a bit of everything alongside their respective specialties. The best warrior is a well-rounded one.

They train for real, but they also spar just because. It's one of the ways Spice likes to try to bond with them lol (he never loses his love of battle, even as a better man). Pepper Jack spars more to blow off steam/seek some form of catharsis than to have fun (not that he doesn't have fun most of the time), while Matar Paneer is all in on the fun lol. She's got the same destructive tendencies Spice has and sometimes she needs that outlet to unleash them, and Spice is happy to help (he's so proud, honestly). Golden is ok with this, she likes to spar with her husband and their children, too... but they MUST do it either in the colosseum or outside the kingdom. She will not tolerate any damage to anything. (Paneer has gotten in trouble multiple times for damaging or destroying things lol. She doesn't MEAN to, it's never done out of malice, she just... she's kind of reckless and gets caught up in the excitement, that's all)

I wouldn't say either Spice or Golden favor one kid over the other. They love them both very, very much, and equally. It's more like... they relate to/understand one a bit more than they do the other. Paneer is basically a Mini Burning Spice, so Spice naturally relates to her better. Same deal with Jack and Golden tbh. (Jack is kind of a mama's boy and Paneer is a daddy's girl lol. It's the opposite thing here, it's the kids that seem to favor one parent lol).

Not to say that they don't get along with the other kid, they do. Paneer adores her mother and vice versa. They like to have girl time and girls' days out together (with Auntie Mozzarella, too). But they can really clash/butt heads sometimes; Golden kind of has an issue with wanting to impose her wants/will on her (not maliciously, it's just the way that she is, she doesn't even really notice half the time), and Paneer is crazy stubborn and can be extremely difficult and resistant to authority, or anything that opposes her own will/wants in general. That sort of conflict that you see with mothers and their daughters. They both think they know best and they bicker a lot. It's Golden's greed VS Paneer's greed, and boy is that a tough battle lol. But they still love each other without a doubt.

It's a little tougher with Spice and Jack. They're quite different from each other, in both looks and personality, so being at odds in some way isn't that uncommon. There's an insecurity on Jack's part that Spice doesn't like him, that he's disappointed in him, and that he's not good enough to be his son (which is NOT TRUE in any way, Spice loves his son to death and both of his children are his pride and joy). There will also come a time where they come into HUGE conflict over Spice's past (nobody ever hid the truth from the kids, they told them that their father used to be a bad person who did bad things and hurt people... but they never told them the WHOLE truth, they just left it at "he was a bad guy once" because they wanted to wait until they were older to give them the full explanation. This turned out to be a huge mistake, because Jack found out the whole story on his own and in a very unfortunate way, and his relationship with Spice takes a massive nosedive for a while because of it), so that won't really help anything... The main issue between them overall is communication, really. They often don't know what to say to each other or how. Not for lack of interest, they both want to get along and understand one another, it's just... not always knowing how to go about it. They BOTH often end up going to Golden for advice about how to approach each other, because... you know. When in doubt, defer to wife/mom lol

[robinfollies]

AAAH PANDERITY INTRODUCTION POSTTTT. Super excited to have this done and out there!! There’s still so much to The Panderity Chapter that I haven’t shared yet and hopefully I can reveal a little more of it in due time hehe 🥹🫶

[microraptorreactor]

Constantly torn between the fact that I want to yell about my Destiny OCs and the fact that they are tied to a written work now. Like before I can post about Dogteeth I need to get anything about Dogteeth postable. THe writer's curse.

[aceofspades-sml]

How does it feel to have lived my dream of seeing Lindsay as Katherine-

Can I ask for details abt her performance? What was her Katherine like, how was she different from Bronte or Bobbie? :0

Hi ! Sorry this took me so long to answer, I just had two big days and needed to organize my notes about the show

And so, Lindsay Katherine. I wasn't expecting to enjoy her as much as I did but she was truly incredible. She was also very different from both other Katherines (I am mostly familiar with Bronté's Kath so will mostly talk about how Lindsay's is different from her but from what I know about Bobbie I can just tell you they are not the same at all)

Even physically speaking she is established as different from the others, her dress isn't cut the same way and is a very dark blue with white stripes and she has lighter curly hair (I used to have doubts about curly haired Kath but oh my god she was perfect). In my opinion she looks a bit older as well, both physically and in her behaviour.

One of the differences that struck me the most, because I remember it already struck me with Bronté, was that while Bonté's cast is openly extremely sarcastic, always mocking and mimicking other people, especially in act 1, Lindsay Kath was very sarcastic as well but in a really deadpan way, both in her voice and her facial expressions. Her delivery of lines such as "Cheeky boy gets nothing for is trouble" and especially "What was the last strike you organized ?" really showed that, she just looked Jack dead in the eyes and delivered. In the same way, I think she made way less large and expressive gestures than Bronté's Kath, which was mostly obvious in Watch what happens- she moves less and everything is in her voice (said voice is absolutely amazing btw)

Maybe that's due to this but she also seemed extremely serious, though not in a strict way- my friend and I tried for hours to put words on that and failed so bear with me here, she was extremely invested in her job as a reporter while also genuinely caring about the newsies and their strike

All in one this Katherine seemed to express her emotions way less than Bronté's... until act 2. In Pulitzer's office she seemed to be desperately trying to justify herself, and despite not talking her face was clearly begging for Jack to believe her, to know that she never intended for things to go this way or to cause the newsies any harm and she just looked so sad-

And the scene on the rooftop before Something to believe in was absolutely heartbreaking as well because I had gotten used to that serious and deadpan Kath and here she just broke down, she was incredibly emotional and her voice broke at multiple moments when she was talking to Jack. Which was also the case with any other Katherine but it was particularly strking with Lindsay. The song itself was then really sweet and soft because she had let her walls down and her relationship with Michael's Jack was played really well in my opinion, once again really different from that of Bronté or Bobbie but absolutely perfect and very cute regarding her personality ! (I would love to see her with the other Jacks tho because I am really curious what her relationship with them would look like since both George and Matt are very different from Michael never gonna happen now haha *cries*)

To sum it up Lindsay was very different from every Katherine I have seen until now, she decided to show a whole other part of her personality and I honestly really liked it ! Not to mention that Lindsay herself was an absolute angel and was clearly incredibly happy she got to play this part. Good for her honestly because she slayed

[risingsunresistance]

since we're talking about the dungeons journals now, i just want to let everyone know. lathrop is porhtal. ya know, the guy in the rift. with all the eyes. reminds you of a certain other eye... porhtal is just lathrop backwards :)

also dr. emmet in the mirrorverse is the same dr. emmet that raised lathrop, the one that was studying the breach on the mountaintop and was presumably living where scoop is now... :)

[fedoraspooky]

We miss Charlie it's been so long since we've seen the poor lad.

Oh trust me I miss drawing him too ;w; April has been a surprisingly busy month for me freelance-wise but once I'm done with work I wanna draw him again.

[cosmoknightchaos]

YOUR TURN!! 3, 6, and 29 :)

HI BESTIE

Answers below the cut!

3. What ideas come from when you were little?

Redrawing old art to see how much I've improved is SUCH a hobby of mine

Back in the elementary characters, I had a handful of characters I made up that, looking back on it, lead to so many of the characters, themes, and stories I've made today. Darker stories, ghosts, possession, eldritch beings beyond mortal comprehension, gods manipulating mortals for funsies, and the will to stand up and be the light in the dark, helping guide others through the night until they get to safety.

And also long clothing. My obsession with capes/trenchcoats started then too

6. Anything that might inspire you subconsciously?

If I can't relate it back to a western musical theatre song then it's not my work

29. Media you love, but doesn't inspire you artistically

Most media inspires me! If I can't/don't want to draw things relating to a certain media but still like it, I'll often incorporate elements of it into other medias I like drawing more. For example, I hate drawing Ultrakill characters with a passion. But, I love the style of the album art, so I've mixed that with other interests and am currently working on Horalo AU drawings in the style of the albums (No preview, sorry!)

So it's hard to say I'm not inspired artistically by something because so much inspires me, sometimes it's just to take some style elements and use them with other things.

The one exception to this is Undertale. The original game has not once ever inspired me.

[monmuses]

btw, last ooc post for the night, but i want to emphasize real quick that i am VERY open to multi-verses and having my muses be apart of any universe of any sort of franchise.

you want our muses to interact but one comes from a more fantasy-like world and the other is straight out of a horror game? dw, i gotchu. i can GLADLY write up something with how mine is apart of your world. anything and everything is on the table when it comes to interactions. hell, i will gladly write with any muses that come from more serious shows or franchises with my more goofier ones!

never let the invisible walls of fandom keep you from writing with different muses. i'll gladly accept them.

[how-to-cast-your-mana-comics]

On today's informational on the cast of How to Cast Your Mana, I'll discuss Wilderin's mentor.

Upon arriving in town, wilderin was rather swiftly taken in by an Archmage by the name of Bane Arcan. Despite the name Bane is a rather kind older gentleman who's just as eager to help wilderin as he is to study him like a bug under a microscope, of course as much as wilderin will allow he takes care as to not overstep personal boundaries.

You may be puzzled though as to what an Archmage is in this world and simply put it's a title given to mages that signify that they're well experienced in this world's magicks and is able to perform spellcasting with expertise. Most Archmages go on to work alongside nobles, lords and even monarchs in the world's various kingdoms. Though those days are behind Bane as he's come to enjoy a more simpler life in the settings countryside town, where he can pursue his own interests, at his leisure.

Bane also has quite the large family mainly in having 11 younger siblings, and he's since estranged himself from his parents. Bane also has an adoring wife and 3 kids, twin daughters and an adopted son. He cares very deeply about his family and would move mountains and even kill to protect them.

But for now he's just wilderin's mentor, wilderin works under him as an assistant and most usually is out and about doing tasks for Bane which he is paid for at the end of the day. However this leads to some shenaniganry as most things do around wilderin and his magical curse.

[transformersloversworld]

I had an unexpected day off today so I finally finished the art of my OC that I want to share with you all :)

Her name is Titania. She's around Rung's height. Her personality is a mix of an old and experienced warrior who fought in many fights and saw lots of death with cheerful and friendly life attitude. In her old age she tries to do something else for once than just fighting. She engages in activities she didn't have time for before, like dancing, singing, painting.

But what's more important about her - she isn't actually a Cybertronian. She was an… organic lifeform. Her body got badly injured and she was dying. She got rescued by the Autobots - Ratchet built her a new body. He tried to make it resemble her old body.

If you ask in which continuity it's happening - in my own! I got inspired mainly by at least three different continuities and I'm working on fusing them into one story. But she will end up on Lost Light for sure :)

As for the eyes/optics... they were highly inspired by optics of tfp Optimus but instead of being mechanical they are more like Earthspark Megatron's optics with their iris/pupils made out of white light. I hope you know what I mean 😅

[official-bunbun]

@churchydragon

You'll learn more about that later!

Best I can say without spoiling, not exactly

[meowchela]

ok im not qualified enough to write up a guide on it or whatever (might do it anyway though bc autism) but i REALLY feel like a lot of lpstubers dont like the roblox game because they just. Dont get it??? like i'm a longtime roblox player and to me a lot of things about it are kinda obvious but i can definitely see how newcomers to the platform would be confused + the hype around lps coming back in general set expectations kinda high and kinda made people forget this is a kids brand so a lot of people got disappointed when they saw what the game really was

the games not bad though!!! like personally i'm able to find fun in it because of its simplicity....i like to play it while im on vc with friends as a sort of background thing and i feel like its one of those games thats best played a little bit each day

idk i just dont want people to dismiss the game outright because they dont understand it :( like i'll be the first to admit it doesnt explain things well but ive also seen people Ignore the tutorial right in front of them bc they want to get to the code without understanding what its even for. like if they just actually paid attention theres explanations for everything ppl are confused about. i dont even care if people like it or not once theyve played i just want them to Understand and then form opinions based on that instead of being like "i dont get this so its bad"

[rizsu]

he's married ?! nanami kento.

sum. he's easily the top most handsome guy within his job. his relationship status is unknown, so what happens when his co-workers ship him with a female worker?

nanami is well known within his company. tall, insanely fit, and an attractive voice. it's not uncommon for men and women alike to find themselves thinking about him often. what's not common is knowing about his love life. no one knows anything and he would've kept it that way. but when push comes to shove, and you're shipped with someone who's not your beloved, nanami will make it known that he's not only taken but married.

in the coffee-break room there are three guys. now, there's nothing unusual about this — no, no. they're just three guys that are co-workers... except there's a twist. they aren't your regular co-workers, they're your uncommon trio of male gossipers and nanami just so happened to be their newest victim.

"shh, shh! he's here," guy one, tichi, whispers to the others, raising his eyebrows and pointing his chin to nanami's position.

the other two take a quick glance, nodding their heads when they've seen nanami's back faced towards them. it's a perfect moment to strike up a conversation, especially since it's just four men here.

guy two, tacho, shuffles his feet to the empty space near nanami. he pretends to open a sugar packet, fiddling with it as his eyes peep over nanami's shoulder. his heart skips multiple beats when the man himself turns around.

"morning to you, tacho," nanami greets, nodding his head before he turns his attention back to his cup of coffee.

"y-yeah, morning!" he stutters, awkwardly smiling in return. he turns his head to the other two in the background, mouthing the word 'help' to them. unfortunately, they do not give the aid to their friend. instead, tichi fakes a series of coughs and guy three, toeny, gives him a confident double thumbs up. there's no hope, tacho sighs.

it's a silent moment between the men — only the sounds of coffee brewing and a spoon coming into contact with the mug can be heard. tacho's mouth itches him, he happened to remember his group's recent conversation about nanami. he must ask — even if it costs him a mutual co-worker.

"so, nanami," he begins, waiting for nanami to give him the undivided attention.

nanami doesn't face him, but he hums in response. tacho doesn't mind this as an answer, so he continues, "i was wondering if the rumors of you being with the new worker, yeri, are true?"

there is one big lie in that question: there are no such rumors. it's just a theory the trio has been gossiping about every night. nanami's been helping out yeri for quite some time, one can only think that they have a special connection going on.

"that is bullshit," nanami gives a firm answer. nothing more, nothing less.

tacho's stunned, he blinks a few times to recollect himself. "oh — so you're not with her?"

nanami doesn't answer yet, but the two in the back give their unwanted reactions. tichi clicks his tongue three times, shaking his head in disappointment at tacho's second question. it's obvious dumbass, he thinks. toeny, on the other hand, presses his lips in a thin line, pretending to read a magazine that's been on the counter.

nanami reaches into his pocket, whipping out his phone. the trio's confused until nanami speaks.

"i am married man. this is my wife," he educates, pressing the power button to show you as his lockscreen.

he collects three gasps, internally nodding at their shock. that's right, i'm gladly taken.

"all this time you've been... MARRIED?!" tacho's voice heightens, he drops his spoon in shock. it's unbelievable yet somewhat believable.

nanami breathes out a 'yes', raising his arm to show the wristwatch. "she bought this for our five-years anniversary recently. it's quite expensive, going over four-thousand," he brags, emphasizing on key words.

he's been waiting for the precious day where someone indirectly asks for his relationship status. the day has come and he will spend it bragging about his beloved.

nanami doesn't give them a chance to speak, he carries on with his bragging, "she's a very lovely woman. all my bentos are made by her and she writes little notes for each. some may think it's childish but that's bullshit! they just haven't experienced the love of a woman. matter of fact, her most beautiful moments are when she's freshly awake. the smile she gives me is nothing but angelic."

his speech doesn't stop there, but it did for the trio. his words went in one ear and out the next. nanami's blabbering about his wife immediately set a blank face upon tichi, tacho, and toeny. they're jealous and also surprised.

"the way a woman can change a man will never not be amazing," toeny whispers, blankly gazing at nanami's ongoing speech.