#backgrounds in general are hard so this was mostly for me to practice

[strawglicks]

bug

[kings-highway]

pre-relationship bullshit haikyuu teams probably had to put up with before various ships managed to get their shit together

daisuga probably was really annoying with like small/petty jealousy, like a girl would hit on one of them and the other would be standing behind their back making faces about it and mocking it and everyone else on the team just has to put up with it. and then theyre all overly sweet to each other to make up for the petty jealousy or some odd version of "winning them back" after the flirting event and the team is rolling their eyes *so hard*

i think asanoya is so annoying bc nobody can convince Asahi that Noya likes him. Like full stop. Eventually someone pulls him aside and is point blank like "Noya said he has a crush on you ask him out" and Asahi is just like: "Haha he was probably joking" and just leaves the scene. Like the absolute refusal to believe it from Asahi combined with Noya's classic teen boy inability to be sincere means that even after theyve both been told they somehow still havent gotten together??? how long is this going to take???

tsukkiyama probably ruins everyone's week the week before they get together bc one of them *saw* a confession letter stuck into the other's bag and absolutely went (emotionally) off the rails for the days leading up to them discovering it was for them.

I am fully of the camp that iwaoi start dating before they label it/make it official so the whole team is screaming like "PLEASE HAVE A CONVERSATION ABOUT IT" meanwhile Oikawa is saying "we just went on a few dates and kissed a few times it doesnt mean anything" and Iwa is in the background shouting "yeah I dont wanna be anyone's boyfriend that's lame" and then they wander off to go eat dinner together holding hands and the team is left in frustration because ALL they talk about is how theyre *not* in a relationship.

for bokuaka its mostly just Bokuto pestering every goddamn person he knows for like 4 months asking "do you think Akaashi likes me?" or "do you think he'd say yes if I asked him out?" and then one day making Konoha *snap* when he says "I need to tell you a secret" and the secret is that he has a crush on Akaashi as if nobody had known that

with ushiten I imagine Tendou was probably really obvious with his crush/interest but in like a very casual "not taking myself too seriously" kind of way so he's comfortable openly flirting, and Ushijima, against everyone's expectations, doesnt seem to mind the attention but is still who he is, so the whole team just has to put up with the most INSANE interactions. Like Tendou walks into the locker room and cat calls him and Ushijima just replies with a formal "thank you" and Semi is contemplating slamming his head in a locker. There's like 12 months of this.

okay okay but I think arankita is *very classic* in that Aran compensates for his crush by over-supporting Kita. so like the whole team gets super annoyed bc Aran wont risk disagreeing with him, is always offering to do extra work, is generally just sucking-up really badly and the twins suffer the most for this bc Aran used to just ignore their antics but now he's super annoyingly on them all the time to try and impress Kita

kuroken is a little different. Yaku asks Kuroo every single day if he's asked Kenma out yet. Lev asks Kenma if he has a crush on Kuroo every chance he gets. Fukunaga gives them a wink when they leave practice to walk home together. This is the only pairing in which the team is the irritant pre-relationship and then post-relationship everyone loses interest and moves on.

I'd include kagehina but once again the entire goddamn show is everyone putting up with them flirting so whats the point.

[cinnamonest]

how do you think goro would feel about a childhood friend!darling?

Goro Akechi has a lot of hate in that heart of his, but other than the man he hates more than anything, there are two other things he hates the most: lack of control, and vulnerability.

He needs control over situations, over people, and when he can manage it, over the course of fate itself. The Metaverse and years of hard effort into a public persona he wears so flawlessly have granted him the sort of control he desires, for the most part.

He hates to be vulnerable, hates his own weaknesses, hates them being perceived by others.

You present both.

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him. Really, up until the point you saw his name on screen one day, you admittedly remembered him as ‘that sad boy at school I was nice to when we were little,’ and your memories of him had all but faded into the background of your life, never thinking of him much after that until he pops back into your life.

At first, you think it can’t be the same person, surely. At least until the familiar — albeit aged a bit older than in your memories — face comes on the screen. It feels quite surreal. A drastic shift from the little boy you remember angrily sulking on the playground all by himself away from the other kids, whom you admittedly talked to mostly out of pity. Still, you felt like you bonded in the end, before he got whisked away when the relatives fostering him decided to dump him off onto someone else, thus forcing him to transfer schools.

You’re happy for him. He looks very happy now, you think, his situation must have improved. He’s even living in the city now apparently, just like you.

The positive coincidences stack atop each other when you actually get to see him.

Completely by chance, not seeking him out or anything, you just so happen to be walking home on an uncrowded street, and he just so happened to be coming back from a hit, now as normalized and mundane to him as any other work-related task — and you just so happen to meet right as you each turn a corner, perfectly scenic, as if ordained by fate.

And while Goro Akechi has spent a very long time by now perfecting the art of composure, what he sees takes him so far aback that even he lets the mask momentarily slip — completely freezing up, slack-jawed and stiff with shock and disbelief. There’s a moment where only silence passes, he looks at you like he’s seeing a ghost, an expression almost like horror managing to escape his automatic efforts to keep a straight face.

You don’t notice that part. You’re too caught up in the surprise and elation, gasping and smiling and rambling on about what a coincidence it is, and—

Do you remember me…?

The shock only lasts a split second. The composure is back, the mask pushed back into place, and with practiced mastery of charm, he bounces back near instantly.

Even in spite of the sudden onslaught of emotions and memories that feels like his very soul is being stabbed at, he manages to keep up the usual Prince-Charming act of his. Says the lines expected of him, so standard you could probably guess them before they come out of his mouth — wow, long time no see, what a coincidence, it’s good to see you, how have you been, all the generic phrases and lines one should say, just like the ones you provide in return. A back-and-forth dialogue predetermined by conventions and standards of normalcy and expectation as composed by a given social framework in which all humans live. You do mention that you’ve seen him on TV — for some reason, it makes his stomach feel like its twisting, but he gives you a humble-sounding reply all the same.

All as his heart pounds so heavily it feels like it’s going to burst though is chest. Adrenaline surges thought his veins and every nerve on his body feels like it’s frozen over, an ice-cold chill that runs through his blood, a ringing in his ears, even a lightheadedness that begins to take hold, his entire body reacting in shock and panic.

You fetch a piece of paper from your bag, scribble something down, hand it over to him — his own hand moves reflexively, as if out of his control, to take it. A series of numbers — oh. Your contact. You’re smiling now, saying something about how you would love to catch up sometime. Your voice sounds far away, his head feels like it’s spinning, but he still manages his signature soft smile and voice as he gives you yet another generic reply.

Sure, that would be wonderful.

A few more lines back-and-forth that he doesn’t even remember by the end of the day, his brain essentially giving replies on an auto-pilot means of conversation. He manages to make some excuse about work, churns out a farewell, briskly walks off with a noticeably deliberate fast pace.

You feel a little embarrassed, as you walk home. He seemed in a hurry to end the conversation. Perhaps it was presumptuous to give him a contact. He probably couldn’t care less. He’s a big, important person now, someone like that has no time for someone like yourself.

…

Your suspicions are more or less validated. He doesn’t contact you.

In fact, from the moment he gets home that day, he tries to forget the interaction entirely.

There’s multiple reasons why. For one, you present a potential obstacle, a burden, a risk. He can’t afford to have you complicating things, getting in his way. It takes some time for his heart to stop racing, and that alone irritates him — why do you get to have such a reaction from him, beyond his control?

Moreover, the emotions that hit him when he saw you were too much. Dangerously intense, something he can’t allow to weigh on him, doesn’t have the time to focus on.

To be frank, those emotions were largely negative anyway. The mere sight of your face stirs up all sorts of memories from that era of his life, most of which were deeply unpleasant. There’s a deep-rooted bitterness that rises up in his stomach, old emotions he’s worked so long to suppress, and you came and dug them up in just a few brief minutes. In truth, he thought about you very often back then — he never really got to say goodbye to you (even if, he often bitterly thought, you never cared that much about him anyway), and he had to force himself to forget you over time, and yet you’ve come and undone his efforts.

And finally — the thought of you makes him feel a new emotion, one he does not like. Something like anxiousness, fear, and in turn, anger at himself and you alike for inducing such a feeling. You stand as a sort of weakness, a single unstable factor in a world where he feels like he has some degree of a grasp of control on nearly everything — you feel uncertain, unsteady, out of his reach… no, it’s not just that. You feel unsafe. You have knowledge and memories of him that no one else does, you have seen him at his weakest, and that makes him feel far more vulnerable then he can stand.

And yet, he saves your number to his phone all the same. Lets it sit there.

Most of the time, it’s easy to ignore. He is a busy person, he can keep himself distracted. Sometimes, though, in the odd hours of the night when his emotions are at their peak, he types a message, two, a dozen, he loses count — only to shake his head and come to his senses, huffing in frustration and holding the backspace down until it’s all deleted, cursing himself internally for even coming close to doing something so foolish.

You keep coming up in his thoughts, an emotion he can’t pretend is anything but yearning feels like a knot in his chest, yet the very thought of you makes him feel sick to his stomach. The conflict between the emotions is unbearable, makes him lose sleep, makes him lose focus.

You who knew him when he was this quiet, sullen, embittered child — you were nice to him, one of the only people who showed him genuine kindness back then — you who certainly knows that the charming act in front of the cameras is merely that, an act, a mask, a lie. It feels as if playing a game with one’s own cards facing outwards towards the opponent, completely exposed, laid bare. The act can’t work on you when you know what he’s really like, know his pains and vulnerabilities, have the potential to strike at the weakest parts of him.

Nor do you fall under his realm of control. The means he has for control relies on his ability to enforce it — means to kill and ruin lives. What he wants from you, though — at least, what he wanted from you back then, he won’t let himself even consider the matter now — falls entirely out of the realm of how he likes to control people, the usual purpose for which he desires the manipulation of others — power, advancement in his goals, to snake his way inside to strike.

It's all confusing. Irritating. It's outside the realm of what he has an easy way to manipulate, and that means he's at a disadvantage, that you have an upper hand, and he can't stand for that.

Still, he wonders about you. Every time a camera faces his way, he wonders if you’ll see the filming. When he makes posts to the little page he runs that the fans eat up, he wonders if you visit it too, if you’re one of those thousands of faceless followers. He wonders how often you think about him. He wonders about the day the two of you ran into each other for the first time in so long — did you go home, and look him up online? How long did you spend doing so? What did you read? Did your view of him change, positively, negatively?

And of course, he thinks about you and your life. What have you been up to, since then? Where has your path in life taken you? You probably have friends. You probably have a partner too. You’re someone who always seemed to be loved by others — he still recalls perfectly the burning bitterness in his stomach when he saw your happiness, your family, your friends, the things you had that he did not. How he resented you for it — he still does, even if he tries to tell himself such emotions are childish. Sometimes he almost thinks he hates you, even if in the end he always finds that he can’t.

And worst of all, he finds that the mere thought of you changes how he behaves.

When he’s at a lower-end news outlet interview, he doesn’t put quite as much energy in… until it occurs to him that there’s always a chance you’ll see it, and he finds himself sitting up straighter, putting in more effort into being charming and witty for the camera.

He almost says something in another interview, but it occurs to him that he doesn’t know how you feel on the matter, and he finds himself taking what was originally a strongly-worded response in his head and neutralizing it as much as possible, to avoid upsetting you should you see it and disagree with him. He doesn't even realize it until the words are out of his mouth.

You do that to him. He who has come to think of himself as so far above others, and yet you — some child from long ago who just so happened to find him again and speak to him for no more than a few minutes — influence his actions, you consume his thoughts. You control him, and you don’t even know it, nor did you have any intention to. And even though he recognizes it, even though he tries to put it to rest and forget you entirely, he can’t bring himself to do it, can’t tap the screen to delete the contact.

It’s infuriating. He can’t stand it. The fact that you do what you do to him so effortlessly leaves him seething and stewing in a rage you probably don’t even realize he’s capable of. And that much he’s acutely aware of as well. You know more of the “real” him than anyone else, you saw him in a phase when he was always pouty and melancholic — yet even then, you don’t know the half of it, don’t realize just how much malice and fury rests beneath the calm outward surface, nor how deep it runs.

He’s not a delusional sort, he’s very self-aware, and he knows how ridiculous the thoughts he’s having are — yet he has them anyway. It’s what, three in the morning, and here he is sitting on the edge of is bed, hunched over in the dark with his face in his hands, stewing in bitterness because he just can’t stop thinking about you. Yes, he knows the thought is absurd, yet he allows it anyway — allows himself to blame you, to resent you for it as if it were an intentional act on your end, to think of you as audacious, having committed some grand transgression against him.

He’s a celebrity, a genius, he has powers unfathomable to the average person — and here you are, you’re nobody, making him think about you. The more he gives in and allows himself to slip into that way of thinking, regardless of how nonsensical he knows it is, the angrier and angrier he gets, the greater the malice that swells in his chest—

—and the darker his thoughts become on what to do with you.

If he forces himself to think it through reasonably, of course, he realizes that you’ve done nothing wrong, that you’ve been nothing but kind to him, and maybe, just maybe, a part of him even feels guilty for any unwholesome, sinister thoughts run through his head — you don’t deserve anything bad to happen to you, and he’s being embarrassingly childish for such boorish, overly-simplistic thoughts like keeping you and taking you away and hurting you and making you pay. Particularly the last — you’ve done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve any harm, and in the rational part of his mind, he knows this.

But if he were to allow those petulant feelings to take over…

If he let the irrational resentment and yearning and attachment and bitterness take over, if he stopped being rational about it, if he just acted on impulses and feelings alone, then he would have something to make you pay for. To make you the object of all the negative emotions that plague him, make you an outlet for his crippling desperation and rage and affection and covet and pain and misery and yearning — yes, he could put all those emotions into you, unload that burden and force you to take it off his shoulders, force you to be something for him to have to himself and use for his own desires and ease of his pain like he always wanted back then.

Maybe he never stopped wanting that, even if he forced every thought of you to the back of his mind for so many years. It was easier to deny the yearning when he could tell himself he would never see you again. He doesn't have that to hold him back anymore — he stares at the screen of his phone that burns his eyes in the darkness, knowing contact with you is a few mere taps away.

But even back then, he wasn’t so stupid as to not realize you interacted with him because he was pitiful and pathetic and obviously troubled and you were the sort of sweet person that went out of your way to be nice to such other children. He was acutely aware of that fact, it irritated him then, it irritates him now. Yet he latched on like a leech anyway, a fact that makes his face feel hot with embarrassment when he recalls how his child self clung to you so strongly, so pathetically. He couldn’t help it. He was so weak, back then.

But here he is, spending hours of his time thinking about you — can he really say he’s less weak to you now?

It’s not as if it’s the first time he had dark thoughts regarding you. Of course, he envied your life back then, but far more than that, he envied you. To have you to himself, as if an object from which he derived happiness that should be just for him. How upset he was when you were kind to people who weren’t him, spent time with others. Even back then, as a child, you have no idea the sort of things he crafted in his head, elaborate fantasies where everyone important to you died off somehow so he could have you all to himself. Fantasies that soothed both his bitterness for you and his desire for you — let you feel pain like he had felt, make sure you couldn’t think yourself better than him, while still ending up something all for him alone to have and enjoy for himself, ensure your kindness was just for him.

Only back then, he had no power to act on such fantasies.

Now…

…

…

...And one night, his resistance finally breaks.

You know what? Maybe he does deserve that. After all the effort he’s put in, after all the things he’s endured, maybe he does deserve to have something all for himself, something he truly wants, something he can secure and know with certainty won’t ever leave his side — you can’t if you don’t have the option.

Maybe you’ll hate him for it. Maybe he’d deserve it if so. But if you do, well, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

His fingers move without having to really think much about it. Generic, typical lines, just like when he spoke with you. Apologizing for the delay, but surely you understand he’s busy and all, so on and so on. He only pays attention to the very last line, as his fingers slow down in their typing with nerves and anticipation.

>Would you still be up for getting together sometime?

[kuradex]

I wanna know about your art style. How you draw like that??

i tried putting down considerations as well as a (very) general step by step of what i do; if there's anything more specific you want me to explain lmk i guess?

first off, general (self imposed) constraints / purpose of project -- this informs what i draw & how i draw it

i.e. "kuradex" is pretty different from my normal art (my 5 latest rough illustrations):

or my monster hunter charms:

or my pokemon tcg contest illustrations that im not allowed to show until june (😉):

although i've said its for merch purposes, ive started drawing these because i wanted to practice conveying "liveliness" and noticing key features / nuances of a given design, but i didn't want to spend a large amount of time on each one.

so what i came up with is

i want to draw things on-model in terms of proportions ( + take note of weight / tapering of shapes / etc )

no backgrounds & minimal "props"

experiment with / practice line/texture/color/flow/rhythm/etc

spend <1 hr on each pokemon on average (this is a bit more difficult for me to track, but for example, the cyndaquil line took me less than 42min to color, combined, and means at some point in time instead of focusing on cleaning up the art as much as i can, i stop after cleaning up most of it)

that said, the pose & the rhythm/flow of lines are key in conveying liveliness, and if i have a concept in mind i usually end up going with it, but i may go thru a few if i dont.

i consider pokemon origin / lore or a key point in its design, and if i'm particularly stuck, i try looking up pokemon card illustrations for inspiration. (i noticed the research i do is essentially a truncated version of how Atsushi Furusawa does research before doing an illustration.

(& even despite all this i do get stuck sometimes and don't exactly understand a pokemon and just opt for "as cute or cool as i can make it i guess?", but i think it's part of the process...?) (theoretically things that are A Shape should be really easy to draw but with what i want to practice in perspective i find them difficult...)

this is from my latest paid req but these are my first sketches of chesnaught -- i was thinking of how one of its inspirations is a warrior / tanker from RPGs, so i drew a pose where it's shielding its face.

i do another pass and take note of details.

in general i draw overlapping shapes and erase (it's a bit visible on one of the spikes)

because i opt for quickness i start coloring at this point -- i just use a colored "color burn" sketch layer for the "lineart" & colorpick official art & lay down messy flats & set the color layer to 60%

60% multiply layer for shadows. i tend to use both hard and soft brushes

for bigger projects i would use 2-3 shadow layers to create more "layered" shadows

here i use overlay layer (60%). this is just throwing colors at it and seeing what works and doesn't work. i personally prefer to throw red under the eye and a yellow or blue near the top of the head. this is mostly done with a soft brush

before this point, everything is under the rough lines, but now i start drawing/painting over it

i just color pick the colors that have been laid down from the previous steps and clean up / render textures (making the green on its arms look fuzzy) / fixing anything that i forgot or looks too off (i.e. the spike on its shoulder and the way the tail curves)

I could potentially keep cleaning this up, but this is where i usually stop 🫡

[sunnylolli]

omg omg pls expand more on the punk dad au thing with matthew like how old is he when he comes to live with arthur?? was his mother horrible???? how does he adjust to living with his dad and brother?

!!!!!!!

So it's a bit all over the place with this au right now regardning Matthew, so some of my posts may contradict each other a bit BUT!!!

This here mixed in with what I'll be writing here!!! I think is what I've settled on storyline-wise!

So, their mother isn't... A great gal.

She's not invested in the kids at all, she doesn't want to work, she doesn't want to parent, all she wants to do is sit around and get paid for sitting around.

When the twins are born, she and Arthur are living together in a flat in Manchester and it's just horrible with how little she does. Arthur works, gets home, sees the disarray and the twins upset. It comes to a peak where they're in a screaming match about their situation and she willingly gives Arthur custody of Alfred with the comment "You take that one, I'll take the other, let's see which one turns out the best!"

Arthur and Alfred move in together with Gilbert who lives in London for a time until Arthur manages to get them an apartment, and over the course of 3-4 years, Arthur decides to take up the custody battle for Matthew.

Arthur's begun studying at that time and balances work-Uni-free time with the help from Gilbert to care for Alfred while Arthur's in court in manchester fighting tooth and nail to get Matthew home with him.

And he does!!! A few months before the twins' birthday, Matthew is 4 3/4 when he's moved home to Arthur.

Their mother is a yeller. She has a short temper, she drinks and most of the time she's been yelling and complaining about every single thing Matthew does. It would always be too loud. Nothing would ever be right. She's the parent to freak out over a spilled glass of water, and of course then Matthew learns to be quiet. To walk quiet, to eat and drink quiet. He learns to fade into the background to not be noticed. He doesn't move much and one of the first things Arthur notices about him is that he says practically nothing.

Like they arrive at the apartment just the two of them (Alfred is with Gilbert to minimize the amount of new things Matthew's exposed to at once) and upon opening the door Arthur says something like: "Well, here's home. Does it strike your fancy?"

And Matthew looks around shyly and says absolutely nothing. He kind of nods, but makes no attempt to reply. And that's how it goes for months.

He's introduced to Alfred in the evening when Arthur has shown him around and introduced him to his bed and everything. Luckily Alfred loves to chat, so there's no hard feelings when Matthew stays quiet at his barrage of questions. Alfred just moves on to talk about something else.

Alfred speaks for both of them! When they're out looking for a uniform to wear, Alfred notices Matthew fidgeting with his blazer and tells Arthur, very loudly, that he should get a bigger size for him, because he looks uncomfortable. He holds his hand when they're outside. Alfred generally just takes a huge big brother role and it's largely thanks to how much he talks that Matthew eventually picks it up and start to speak up more, too.

Although he's very quiet. Alfred's good at shutting up whenever Matthew tries to talk, so it's fine, but he does also blatantly tell him to speak louder. In that super brotherly teasing way.

The way Arthur helps him is by being the dad of all time. As I've said before, Punk dad Arthur is the chillest, healthiest possible version of Arthur there is.

He's patient (Mostly. With the kids, he's patient), he doesn't blow small mistakes out of proportion, he talks when Matthew doesn't. He keeps asking him for opinions, how his day's been, how he's feeling, even if there's a big chance he won't be getting an answer, he keeps asking because 'I wouldn't want someone to stop speaking to me just because I can't think of any way to respond.' He celebrates the moments that he gets Matthew to laugh or smile, he makes Matthew's favorite food whenever he learns what it is.

Matthew is around 5 1/2 - 6 when he begins to feel comfortable giving answers, and Arthur tries so hard not to make a big deal out of it. It happens when he's walking the boys to school and he asks them if they know what they're going to be doing that day and before Alfred can respond Matthew pipes up with:

"We'll have about insects today, I think."

And Alfred will smile enthusiastically and agree with: "Yeah! We'll be looking at insects today! You said you'd like to look at a cricket, right?" And Matthew will nod.

And Arthur will be staring with his heart in his throat and pat Matthew lovingly on the shoulder and try and play it off with: "I hope you'll be learning a lot about those crickets today, then. I know they're insects, but that's about it."

And I'm still plotting out the rest of the details, but the mother will become a problem again when the twins are around age 10, I think 🤔

[sammylbir]

Rewriting Teruteru Hanamura

Hey guys, today it's time for another rewrite post. That being about a certain chef.

That being Teruteru:

Teruteru Hanamura is probably one of the most disliked Danganronpa characters. I personally do like him as a character and want to improve him, so this post is for that. Keep in mind that those are just my ideas, so you don't have to agree with me. Okay? Let's do this.

Personality:

I'll tone his perverted behavior heavily down. Unlike in canon, this guy is a true gentleman and while he is very perverted still, he only keeps it for fun flirting and teasing. He is in general very friendly and approachable and also has a caring side, towards those he likes.

He is open about his interests in kinks, but he doesn't talk about that, during eating and when he is in the kitchen. Because in his mind, eating is supposed to be enjoyable and fun, with dirty jokes "not fitting to the menu".

His accent change, when he gets mad, remains too.

Appearance:

Okay, here I won't change too much. I'll adjust his height a bit and make him a bit taller and more plumb. Another thing I wanna add is that his belt is full of cooking supplies, like spatulas and whatnot and his hat is a bit bigger, which also stores some cooked meals.

How do they all fit into his hat? No clue. I am legally obligated, to not say anything about it/j

Past:

Teruteru had a diner with his mom and came from a poor background. The diner itself struggled at times, because of its remote location and the fact that the meals themselves aren't as "Flashy", as the ones in the big restaurants. Due to this, most critics who visit the place bash it and leave negative reviews.

Teruteru helped out in the diner as a kid, either to clean or to serve food himself. But his home life wasn't that happy either, because his father left the family, after Teruteru witnessed him in his bedroom cheating on his mom with another woman. He was 13 at the time and this even taught him, to treat women the right way. Adding to the fact that his dad was kind of a dick to his mom, he tried to become a gentleman of sorts, to not become like his dad. Like in canon, he has a few brothers, but those left with his dad, because he married a rich old woman for money. Something Teruteru can't forgive them for.

His perverted behavior and consumption of pornographic content, was due to him trying to cope with the divorce, because he did love his dad deep down and hated how mom had to do more work, because he wasn't there. Thanks to that, he also began to realise that he is attracted to men and women, a fact that bothered him for a long time. Until his mom found out and taught him that he didn't need to feel ashamed of how he felt.

Because he helped a lot in his mom's diner, so they can stay afloat, he did miss out on school mostly and his grades ranged from mediocre to atrocious, because he was busy with said work. Making his mom more worried about the future. Which is why Teruteru began to practice cooking more, to make sure that the diner can stay afloat and to possibly get more customers.

Koichi Kizakura, the scout at the time, discovered Teruteru when he went to dine there, after a long hard day of work. He then offered him that if he were to join HPA, then they'd finance his mom's diner. Of course, Teruteru accepted and willingly joined them, to make sure to become a better cook and so mom doesn't have to worry about his future.

Other Facts:

-Teruteru can cook most meals really well, except for omelette. For some reason, he seems to be struggling with making those and he tries to avoid making them, whenever he can.

-While he is open for most kinks, he draws the line with non-consensual stuff.

-Apart from cooking, he does like fashion trends and keeps up with them at all times.

-He sometimes tries to slip from gym class and math class, so he can work on his cooking skills. Keyword being: "Tries".

-He can speak a bit of italian and french, which he picked up from some of the customers.

And that's it. I hope ya liked this post and please like and reblog, if you appreciated my ideas for our dear chef. Till next time!

[whinlatter]

Hi! I wanted to ask you what's your take on clothes and how wizards dress? I've been thinking about this since the 'gettin ready fot the party' scene. What's a typical wardrobe for typical wizard in te 90's? I always imagined that they just dress like muggles (or maybe the younger generations?), and i when i read the books i always had a hard time imagining them when they are trying to pass as muggles, you know? Like what, they don't understans which clothes are for a specific event? Because Harry says that he could tell thay dress a bit diffrent, like out of place. I mean, it's probably just meant to be funny, but, how isolated are they to not knowwhat muggles wear? I guess it also has to do with how they are raised, i imagine blood-supremacists (is that how it's called?) use only 'robes' (whatever that is, and, also, what's under those robes? like, a thong? do they wear muggle underwear? SO MANY QUESTIONS)

So, i was thinking about this instead of working🤠.

I liiive for that part with tonks' clothes, i even got a litlle "oh i wanna be thereeee and try everything and make everything fit with magic!"

And this how i imagine wizards dress (according to jkr) in the muggle world

ok please know that this image made me howl

thank you for the super interesting question! i have thought a bit about typical wizarding wardrobes and familiarity with muggle fashion among wizards in the 90s as a worldbuilding question in beasts. it's definitely true that wizarding familiarity with muggle dress is another one of those worldbuilding points in canon where the text is unclear and at times inconsistent. i know people have different views on how much wizarding and muggle culture interact, especially in matters of popular culture and fashion. i've heard very convincing arguments that the cultural insularity and physical remove of the wizarding community from muggles would mean most children raised in wizarding households, especially pureblood families like the weasleys, wouldn't know that much about how muggles plausibly dress, what they listen to, or what forms of media are popular (books, music, sports, even less so tv and film).

while i do agree with some aspects of this, in my approach to wizarding youth culture in the 90s, i think young witches and wizards on the left know more about muggle fashion than they do about many other aspects of muggle culture, and that interest and ability to pull off muggle fashion depends on a person's background, politics, gender (because mostly, it does all seem to be about trousers - i reckon pureblood supremacists, as you say, are in their undies most of the time), but especially generation and the politics/patterns of consumption in the time period when they were a teenager. i think your desire and ability to wear muggle clothing varies a lot if you're born in 1950 vs 1980, partly because of changing wizarding politics and the difference between growing up in peacetime vs a world at war, but partly because muggle fashion changes as a market in the second half of the twentieth century.

basically, i think these young progressive millennial wizards would wear more muggle clothing because of changes in muggle fashions/consumption that allow for greater availability and access to muggle clothing by the 1990s, as well as access to information about fashion and trends, and i think they would want to because willingness to embrace muggle fashions would be a way of showing their commitment to their own politics and forms of teenage rebellion that were distinct from those practiced by generations prior living through the first wizarding war. a longer discussion with my reasoning for this is below the cut!

so - in general, in canon, gen X wizards and older (so the youngest of them born in the 1950s thru 70s, and everyone older than that) seem to dress in muggle clothing really only as a protective measure to prevent exposure/risk breaking the statute of secrecy. when bob ogden goes to the gaunts' house in the 1920s, even as the head of a major ministry department dealing with law enforcement, he does a terrible job dressing as a muggle (the bathing suit, pls bob, i beg). if you look at all the wizards trying to dress as muggles for the world cup, it's clear that the adoption of muggle clothing, for most wizards, is a strategic, defensive move more than anything else. in PoS, mcgonagall - herself a progressive woman in her politics - disdains wizards who are celebrating the end of the first wizarding war by celebrating in the street "not even wearing muggle clothes", which she thinks is reckless and risks wizards' exposure (love when mcgonagall dresses like a muggle briefly at grimmauld place in OotP and it freaks harry out lol). there is no enthusiasm or interest in it - there's just conformity for self-preservation.

for that reason, i think you can see why those on the wizarding right in the mid-twentieth century, especially those drawn to pureblood and wizarding supremacy, would come to see dressing like a muggle as a disgrace, a sign of submission to a lesser people, in a way that would become extremely loaded in the years preceding and during the first wizarding war (1970-1981). when harry sees snape in the flashback to his first trip on the hogwarts express in the early 70s, he notices snape is already wearing his wizard robes very early on in the journey, which harry's narration supposes is because snape's happy to be out of his 'dreadful Muggle clothes' (DH). those muggle clothes were a sign both of snape's poverty but also his outsider status in muggle tinworth: special, because he's a wizard, but otherwise socially inferior to other children in every other way. snape, of course, is raised in a wizarding household with knowledge of magic but has been wearing muggle clothing to avoid detection for his entire childhood, in ways that imbue the wearing of wizarding clothes and casting off of muggle garms with great political significance. in canon, we see that the vast majority of wizards, while not death eaters or rabid pureblood supremacists, tend to be small c conservatives in their view of wizarding cultural norms and tend to think they're better than muggles even if they don't necessarily want to go out and kill them all. for that reason, they remain loyal to wizarding traditions, and continue to wear robes, partly as a symbol of their proud cultural identity as wizards, in ways that they would likely only cling to as their society moves towards open war over muggle-wizard relations (as you say, robes seem to be worn without trousers underneath, so most wizards are just wearing underwear under their robes and going about their day. slay, honestly).

so, if the right hate muggle clothes, then the willingness of gen z+ wizards to engage with and adopt aspects of muggle attire and culture might map onto a progressive political outlook and a disavowal of wizards-first ideology. but a person's politics alone doesn't mean they know how to pull off muggle clothing, and in the years of brewing tension then open war, most wouldn't bother risking their lives to be caught wearing a pair of bell bottoms. arthur weasley is the best example of this. arthur is theoretically interested in muggle clothes because he's a progressive man who disavows wizard supremacy and believes in principles of tolerance towards muggles. now, he's not good at knowing how to pair a plausible muggle outfits. this is because he still lives at a reasonable remove from wizards, he's extremely busy with a demanding job and seven children to be staying up to date with changing fashions, and at the end of the day still spends most of his week among wizards in a civil service that demands a certain level of professional conformity. but i think it's also because arthur weasley is born in 1950 and therefore spent his young adulthood trying to raise a young family during a war. arthur instead channels his politics into support for muggle protection legislation rather than in wearing muggle clothing, which he might see as a limited individual act of symbolic resistance that would put his family at risk and also cost time and money he doesn't have. (if we look at the marauders, as an example of a progressive bunch in the interim generation between arthur and arthur's children, especially someone like sirius with greater financial freedom, it's very telling that sirius shows his politics off through riding a cool muggle motorbike and sticking up muggle soft porn on his bedroom walls, but not noticeably through fashion, as far as harry's photographs show).

but if you look at arthur's children, progressive wizarding millennials, it seems like more confident familiarity with muggle fashions and culture is generally more common. i think we can include someone like tonks in this, raised in a mixed marriage household by a blood traitor and a muggleborn dad. harry says that the weasley children are better than their parents at dressing like muggles. when harry sees bill weasley he doesn't think 'this is a man who looks like he's done a bad job dressing for a muggle rock concert' he thinks 'this is a man who looks like he could be going to a rock concert'. this suggests to me a difference, say, between bill and his dad. arthur likes muggles and believes engaging with muggle culture is important, but doesn't really succeed at it, but his eldest son manages to marry both a political commitment to embracing muggle culture with an ability to dress plausibly as a muggle so much so that he's able to ape a subculture in a way his dad doesn't really try to often and has never succeeded at.

why? i think there's a few things going on. one is that the majority wizarding millennials grew up in peacetime, after the fall of voldemort, in the 1980s and 90s, where wearing muggle clothing was less likely to get you killed and more likely to symbolise an individual act of rebellion against more low-level societal norms and cultural pressures rather than against a murderer in a mask. this, plus having the time and disposable income to follow muggle fashions more closely, as well as the opportunity to access about muggle fashions and celebrity styles, has a big part to play. bill weasley has more time and ability than his dad to stay up to date about muggle clothing tastes, as do his siblings. characters who went to hogwarts in the 80s and 90s also did so at the peak of a mass print consumer culture (one that was already on an upward ascent since the 60s) that was designed to be be accessible, inexpensive and create an appetite for following trends among consumers, and that could very easily be of appeal to progressive young witches and wizards. this is why in beasts i have ginny know about the spice girls and their iconic lewks from a copy of smash hits magazine because that seemed like the kind of inexpensive and highly portable source of information about muggle culture that a muggleborn or halfblood student (or even a pureblooded student with a parent with a progressive interest in muggle clothing) would be able to take to school and pass around a dormitory. on the gender point, too - donning muggle clothes, especially the more permissive and sexy clothing of the 80s and 90s would be a great way for a rebellious young woman raised in a wizarding household - eg. tonks or ginny - to stick it to the conservative gender norms in the wizarding world.

moreover, the changes in fashion as a market in the muggle world would make a certain base style of comfortable and inexpensive muggle dress much more readily available to younger witches and wizards than ever before. for kids born in the late 70s/80s, changes in muggle clothes consumption - aka. the globalisation of mass factory production of textiles, especially garments, and the early forms of fast fashion we now recognise today - would also have an impact on the ready availability of certain basic forms of cheap muggle fashion, including the ubiquity of cheap jeans and trainers/sneakers, that emphasise comfort and ease of daily wear at a low cost point produced in such high volumes such that if you wanted a pair of jeans, you could easily get your hands on one. this would have made a plausible muggle clothing a lot more accessible (there's only so wrong you can go if you're just wearing jeans, t-shirt, a jumper, and a pair of trainers, really), and explain why the clothes harry wears in the muggle world don't seem all that different from the clothes he wears in the wizarding world (admittedly usually under his robes), or indeed that different from what ron seems to wear most of the time. passing as a muggle in 1920 with little effort - à la bob ogden - would be a lot harder than doing so in 1990.

so - yeah. that's my take! i think it's mostly about generation, but also about politics, about war and peace, a bit about gender and a lot about capitalism. i hope this helps!

[your-local-uwu-artist]

they play viddy games~

anyway SUPER PROUD OF THIS ONE: progress/alt versions and rambles under cut

THE FIRST SKETCH: mostly just me getting my ideas down: working out the poses and placement, however you can notice in this initial sketch that the room originally didn't show the door and was just in a corner, and that I originally was gonna sneak in some coffee cups for tweek via a trash can.

the second sketch: fleshing out the details, a lot of stuff was added and changed, the room layout, the lamp, and a bunch of smaller things too

The 'base' colors: so I was having a really hard time with this color scheme actually, at first I wanted to go for something really warm and different from my usual brighter color schemes (lol as if i could ever go without my beloved saturation) but I was sorta struggling with my inital approach of starting with an orange base: so I decieded to use a magenta and just get down the values, the bases would be easy to edit later, and I was able to get an idea of the general flow of colors

colors completed: lines colored and an ity bit of shading added. I ended up shifting around some of the structure from the magenta version, but i think it's an improvement. I ended up leaning into my usual color palettes, I mean, I'm already experimenting and practicing with backgrounds and style here, so I'll keep procrastinating on my plans to use a warm de-saturated palette.

anyway! some details and references!!! if you look closely there's some little color blobs on Jimmy's crutches to resemble stickers. the poster of Craig's door is of a minior (drawn without reference pic thof dasjk) The picture with the guinea pig on the door also features dandelions which people have pointed out tweek resembles. Jimmy's backpack has an amongus keychain as well as a pansexual and disabled pride flags. Craig's 'super craig' s paper is on his backpack. one of tweeks shirts can be spotted in the laundry basket as well as the hat Craig wore while in a peruvian flute band. clyde is transgender because i felt like it. I was originally going to include an autism creature somewhere but it ended up getting cut.

[8-rae-rae-8]

Come back for me CH.1

A fanfic idea brought to me by an anon person who I love very much now

2.3k words

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Game: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (2009), Canon-Typical Violence, Violence, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Mild Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Age Regression Little Simon "Ghost" Riley, Age Regression Caregiver John "Soap" MacTavish, Captain John "Soap" MacTavish, rewritten ending of 09, Age Regression/De-Aging, pet regression pet regression pup Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Little Space, Age Regression, Caregiver John Price (Call of Duty), Shepherd is the worst, Gun Violence, Face Slapping, Mocking, Men Crying, Crying, Gaz is dead already remember, i didnt forget him, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

A hail of bullets aimed at them from every direction. Body screaming out to run, and only to fire at enemies he could see immediately. He couldn't hide to use his sniper skills. Too many out on the field, all aiming for a kill shot.

A boom got Ghost’s attention. Whipping his head around, Roach was lying on the ground. Exposed dirt under him. His breath picked up slightly as he bolted for his team member. In just a few seconds, he was there, pulling Roach along with him.

“I've got you, Roach, hang on!” He forced out. His arms wrapped around his front as he began to pull. Exfil was so close, they could get out.

Ghost shouted his visuals. Smoke in the treeline. But that was a reflex of being in the military so long. He had to get Roach out, that was what he was thinking. His mind even screaming it.

The sound of a gun so close had his mind frazzled for a moment. The gunfire was from Roach, Simon noticed. Though the tightness in his chest never ceased.

“Roach, hang in there!” He yelled, lungs burning with all the smoke and gunpowder. Simon's eyes kept darting down to Roach as he pulled him along. Impressions were left in the dirt, marking where they had been.

Roach went mostly limp. The goggles over his eyes made it hard to see if his eyes were open at all. Ghost breathed harshly as he pulled and pulled that dead weight.

“Come on! Get up, get up! We're almost there!” Simon shouted, pulling Roach up by his hand, with an arm around his back. The weak grip Simon got in return was only more stress inducing. The situation was bad enough. They just had to get close.

The sounds of their radios became mindless chatter in the background. Ghost held tightly onto the other, practically carrying him.

The plane landed, just so close to them. They kept walking, Ghost doing most of the work. Wounds would be assessed when they got back to base. Safety was so close.

They thought.

In the mouth of the plane, Shepherd was waiting for them.

“Do you have the DSM?” The General shouted, closing the space between them.

“We got it, sir!” Ghost returned.

A hand went to rest on Roach's shoulder, as the DSM was taken from him.

“Good, that's one less loose end.” Shepherd spoke. A nod was sent to the soldier next to them. One of Shepherd's men.

One less loose end. That had Ghost’s mind running.

In just a few seconds, the weapons both Roach and Ghost held were stripped away and their hands were secured behind their backs. As if they were the ones causing mass terror. Makarov was their target, so why were they being held like they were the problem?

“What the fuck!?” Ghost hissed as he tried to fight back. A revolver pressed to his temple in an instant. The fighting stopped.

Their comms clicked back to life.

“Ghost! Come in, this is Price! We are under attack at the boneyard!” The words were hard to manage under the panting of panic breaths he was trying to calm.

“Do not trust Shepherd, I say again, do not trust Shepherd!” Price shouted to them through comms. It was too late.

If it had been a minute sooner, they would have gotten out of there. Maybe not alive. But they would've made it out at the very least.

Shepherd clicked the radio, the one on Ghost's gear.

“Too late, boys.” Shepherd's voice crackled through the radio. Before he could get a response, the radio words were cut, both on Ghost’s equipment, and Roach's.

Effectively cutting off their contact completely.

“Goodnight, boys. Enjoy the ride home.” The headset over Ghost’s ears were pulled off, then his balaclava was pulled over his eyes.

Simon couldn't even see Roach's status. No words would come out when he tried to ask. Just panicked breaths

He was in the dark now. Completely.

The dark scared him.

The flight could've lasted hours or minutes. It all blended together. Or maybe he was knocked out at some point.

Either way, by the time the balaclava was moved enough to see, Ghost was somewhere else entirely. He didn't remember being picked up or moved at all.

There was a strong tired feeling waving over him, but it didn't feel the same as waking up and feeling sleepy. It felt dreadful. Painful. Like it was sinking into his bloodstream.

The mask was pulled off his head completely. His arms went to move, but he was still bound. Simon grunted as he tried to remove them from his wrists. But with Shepherd’s clearance level, he and to know Ghost was skilled in escaping these situations, so the rope wss ridiculously tight. Enough to leave burns if he fought against it. Even his ankles were bound, the rope was tied to his wrists behind his back.

It took but a second for life to hit him in the face again. Literally. A sharp hand, still holding the revolver hit against his bare face. The cold metal, then the harshness had him gasping for air while coughing.

��You boys-” Shepherd began.

Roach interrupted, his mask and goggles gone too. Rather than using words to communicate, he growled. Even with his hands bound, he managed to shuffle just close enough to be right in front of Ghost. Unlike Simon, his ankles weren't bound. He stood in front of Simon like a guard dog.

Despite his smaller frame, Roach had a bite. More bite than bark, truely.

“The fuck do you think you are?!” Shepherd raised his voice, with a darker tone.

But Roach lunged, refusing to be intimidated. Giving out bites to Shepherd like he was a dog, biting wherever he could reach.

Ghost saw it break skin. The shirt Shepherd wore was turning red at one bite mark.

A loud shout filled Ghost's ears, his head immediately turned downward. He didn't want to see it. Whatever would happen, he didn't want to see it.

Ghost could withstand it. He'd live through it, but his head throbbed and he felt so tired. From everything. This emotionally weighed down on him too. Where was Johnny?

His head stayed down.

Pain suddenly shocked through his system.

Blood oozed from his thigh.

A yelp followed, but not from himself. Simon's eyes widened as he registered the pain and stared at the fresh wound. A knife cut, long along his upper thigh. It was deep, but not as bad as he has experienced before.

Roach proceeded to be pushed harshly off of Shepherd harshly. Ghost could barely see it, but the thud gave it away.

It sounded painful.

“You're like a fucking mutt!” Shepherd shouted at Roach, holding him down by the head so he couldn't bite again.

A human bite could make Shepherd sick. Simon would bet money that Roach did it to protect him. But getting him sick would be a benefit.

Roach growled, a rumble deep in his chest. He pressed back against the hand, trying to threaten Shepherd.

Simon's eyes finally looked somewhere other than his leg, first looking at Roach. Blood was dripping down his skin. Shepherd's blood.

It didn't make him feel relieved like he hoped. Instead, it made him feel sick. This shouldn't be happening. If they just didn't split up, they wouldn't be hurt like this.

On top of the headache, he felt fuzzy. His brain felt foggy. And this was the worst possible place to feel like that.

If he could, he'd be curling in on himself. The ropes around his wrists, that tied his hands to his feet felt much constricting. He closed his eyes. The sight was too hard to see. Roach trying to protect him felt too much.

Too much and he didn't deserve it.

Simon tried to shuffle forward just a little, to release the tension on his shoulders, but it didn't help.

Tears slipped down his cheeks before he even registered they had filled his eyes.

Too much.

Too much.

Too much.

He ached. His muscles burned. His heart was tight in his chest.

He felt tiny. Pathetic and small.

The worst time to feel that way.

Shepherd was a man he was supposed to trust. And he trusted too easily this time around. He should've seen this coming, he'd been able to predict it with others before. But there were no signs. Nothing that Ghost noticed at least.

Ghost held his breath, and everything was quiet again. Just for a moment. He let his face get red, just holding his breath. If he was lucky, he'd pass out.

“The Ghost, crying, how pathetic.” Shepherd jeered. The focus turned back to him. And now it wasn't so quiet anymore.

The words forced Simon to take a breath. The redness fading ever so slightly. He tried to be scary. Teeth bared, his eyes sharp as he looked up. It just didn't have the same effect. Less effort behind it, and more fear.

It was scary. Just him and Roach.

And Roach looked like pure evil. The anger displayed on his face. Simon shivered as he saw it.

Roach barked. Damn similar to an actual dog. He was quickly back to protecting Simon. The only time his eyes softened were when he saw the way Ghost looked.

It must've been bad, judging how much Roach attempted to protect him.

But it shouldn't be Roach. It should be Johnny coming to protect him.

He wanted his bubba.

Shepherd's hand grasped at Simon's face, forcing him to look up. The skin tightened on his neck, being pulled to its limit. The hand on his chin felt like a violation in itself.

“What are you? A child?” Shepard hissed at him, mocking him.

Ghost averted his gaze, but was grabbed by his hair instead. He missed his mask. The one he could hide behind. He was for his team to see, not this monster.

“Get away from me-..” Simon managed to cough out. Blood was still collecting in the knees of his pants. Almost drenching them.

“You're stupid, Ghost, really. I'm not holding you here to hurt you… but I won't hesitate to.” And Ghost knew he'd make good on that. Shepherd wasn't the type to wait around like that.

Goosebumps rose on his skin. His gaze was hardly able to stay on Shepherd's face. It hurt too much.

“Now, we're going to call the captains. The two of you are going to behave, or you're going to be far worse off.” A threat. Ghost could pick that up. But he couldn't really hide the way he hoped that Mactavish could fix this.

He wanted to be home with his bubba again. To be held and told it would be okay.

Ghost was released from the firm hold on his face and hair. His head dropping back down, eyes only looking at the floor.

Again, Roach shuffled closer. Much more quiet than Simon could've been. He stood on his knees just a little in front of Simon. Guarding him. If he could, Simon would hide behind him.

The ropes hurt. Slowly, he felt his limbs going numb. But that was part of this. Keeping the most dangerous one in the room tied up. It was smart, because neither of them could do anything about it. Both too far gone in their headspaces.

It clicked for Simon why Roach was protecting him like a dog. He was also regressing. It made sense… In their most vulnerable times, of course it would happen. It was just their luck.

Roach struggled against the ties on his wrists, while Simon merely gave in to it. He didn't fight, he sat there, in that stress position he was put in. If he fought, it would only end up hurting worse.

Shepherd turned, backs to them as he approached a table. It was bolted to the ground, as if it was used regularly for activities far worse than this.

The more Simon paid attention, the worse (and smaller) he felt. His eyes squeezed shut. Wetness dripped down his cheeks. More and more tears. It took but a minute for his shoulders to start trembling, and his face to get a little red. He blinked open his eyes every few seconds, just to close them again.

Small whimpers came from Roach. He shuffled closer. That proximity only helped a tiny bit.

A glare was shot their way when the room wasn't completely silent. It was only an instinct for Roach to keep whining, quiet and soft. He was in distress, and so was Simon. This was all just distressing.

There were sounds of typing, Ghost noted. He turned his head upwards a little bit towards the screen of the laptop. Simon could make out people talking, it was quiet at first before it got real loud.

The laptop was angled at them, and Shepherd stepped back. Right to Ghost.

He reflectively flinched away. His entire body tensing up further.

“If either of you try anything, you'll never see your captains again.” Shepherd firmly told them. He had leaned down next to Ghost, cutting the ties at his ankles and wrists.

But he was immediately bound again with his hands in front instead. The same was done to Roach. He looked exhausted, bloodied just like Simon. But it was worse. From the explosion to the bullets he must've taken. Simon could hardly fathom how he was still up and going.

The both of them knew Shepherd would make good on his threat. So there was no fighting. No attempts.

Something on the laptop buzzed, before making a popping sound three times. A call connecting sound. The screen changed, with the backdrop of a desert.

There were Mactavish and Price.

Bubba. Simon's eyes watered again.

[daitranscripts]

Sera Conversation

Tell Me About Your Background

Sera Masterpost

PC: Tell me about yourself.

Sera (female PC if flirted before): Oh yeah? Interested, are you? Sera: What about me?

1 - Dialogue options:

General: Where are you from? [2]

General: Who trained you? [3]

General (Dalish PC): It’s nice knowing other elves. [4]

General (non-Dalish PC): You’re different for an elf. [5] -Sera slightly disapproves

General: Goodbye. [6]

2 - General: Where are you from? PC: How about the basics. Where are you from? Sera: Ferelden? PC: I got that from the accent. Where in Ferelden? Sera: All over? Okay fine. Denerim for a bit. South. North. Wherever I want.

Dialogue options:

General: No ties worth mentioning? [7]

General: I can make evasive jokes, too. [8]

General: Don’t keep secrets. [9] -Sera slightly disapproves

7 - General: No ties worth mentioning? PC: There are no connections you want to mention at all? Sera: Nope. [10] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 8 - General: I can make evasive jokes, too. PC: Oh, you’re from Wherever? I’m from North Wherever! Sera: What? PC: North Wherever. Oh, we had fun on Street and/or in Local Tavern. Sera: Oh, har-dee-har. All funny, you. [10] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 9 - General: Don’t keep secrets. PC: I expect more direct answers than that. Sera: Which of this lot gave you straight answers? Not as many as you bloody well think, I guarantee. Look, I’m not from anywhere. No home, no castle, a few friends. [10] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 10 - Scene continues. ㅤㅤ ㅤ Sera: It’s complicated. I don’t like complicated. Let’s leave it at that. Maybe. [back to 1]

3 - General: Who trained you? PC: You’re skilled. Who taught you how to use a bow? Sera: No one. PC: That seems unlikely. Sera: What? I picked it up here and there. Mostly it just makes sense. It’s not like that for you?

Dialogue options:

General: Not typically. [11]

General: Only when I’m boasting. [12]

General: Are you serious? [13]

11 - General: Not typically. PC: Usually it takes considerable discipline. Hence my question. Sera: Hence? Look, I work at it. Practice. A little. [14] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 12 - General: Only when I’m boasting. PC: Oh, certainly, not a day’s effort for the naturally gifted like us. Sera: Well, it’s not like that. It takes work. A bit. [14] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 13 - General: Are you serious? PC: Seems like there’s more to it. Sera: Well, yeah. I practice. Some. [14] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 14 - Scene continues. ㅤㅤ ㅤ Sera: Not like Cullen and his pets. I mean, you miss, then you don’t. Is it that hard to see when it’s wrong? ㅤㅤ ㅤ PC (Dalish PC): Well, it’s not like that for other elves, I know that. PC (non-Dalish PC): Is it an elf thing? ㅤㅤ ㅤ Sera: (Laughs.) Most I know couldn’t find an arrow sitting on it. Right, maybe I just make it look easy in shite company. Fact still is, no teacher. Where would I find one in alleyways anyway? Pfft. [back to 1]

4 - General: It’s nice knowing other elves. PC: I’m just interested in talking to an elf like me. Sera: Mmm, don’t think so. PC: Why not? Sera: Well, maybe you’re all right. But most elves are too… elfy. Like that Solas, right? “Never be as good as we were.” Well, who’s we? I’m just fine. [15]

5 - General: You’re different for an elf. PC: You’re not like most of the elves I’ve met. Sera: Thanks, right? Or was that an insult? Suppose I could go barefoot and whine more. Like that Solas, right? “Never be as good as we were.” Well, who’s we? I’m just fine. [15]

15 - Dialogue options:

General: There’s no value in tradition? [16]

General: You’re saying “get over it”? [17]

General: Just throw it all away? [18]

16 - General: There’s no value in tradition? PC: There’s a lot of tradition there. Should it just be thrown away? Sera: Your great-grandfather’s dead, why aren’t you dead? You’re throwing away tradition. PC: That makes sense to you? Sera: None of it does in the city. That’s why I’m not “like an elf.” [back to 1] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 17 - General: You’re saying “get over it”? PC: I think there’s more to it than that. A few thousand years more. Sera: Hey, someone wants to be angry about old debts, be angry. Be a terror that never lets an enemy forget. But if you’re digging it up so you can wear it, that’s just weird. ㅤㅤ ㅤ Sera (Dalish PC): I mean, you Dalish don’t really know. You have stories, but that’s all they are. It’s all fancy dress, not history. [back to 1] Sera (non-Dalish PC): I mean, the Dalish don’t really know. They have stories, but that’s all they are. [back to 1] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 18 - General: Just throw it all away? PC: There’s nothing to learn from any of that history? Sera: Yes. “Don’t do that.” What? “We” lost so bad, there was nothing left. You figure out what they wore on their deathbed, you wear it. Waste of time. [back to 1]

6 - General: Goodbye. PC: We’ll talk later. Sera: If you say so.

[winesink]

WIP Wednesday: another snippet from the Sansan hockey AU I pretty much only work on during intermissions lol

Practices are always light in between series - limited to freeskates, mostly. It leaves the boys loads of time to talk. Sandor is well-used to ignoring them, but it gets more difficult when the phones come out and they start huddling and whispering like school boys with a nudie mag. He intervenes when it becomes obvious Jamie is being aggressively oblivious.

"Fuck's going on over here?"

Redwyne nearly pisses himself. "Nothing."

"Like hell. Either tell me what's more important than practice or get back on the ice."

"Nothing is more important than practice, sir!" Pod chirps happily. He looks like he means it, damn him.

"Don't call me 'sir,' kid," Sandor grumbles, knowing full well it won't do any good. As predicted, Pod just continues to hide his general fear of Sandor behind an absent, amiable smile. "If practice is so important to you, why are you over here?"

"Saving energy?" Hetherspoon offers, but the idiot draws attention to himself at exactly the wrong time and Sandor merely squints at him until he turns up the phone he'd been trying to sneak under his garter.

Sandor sighs. "Locker room, you twit."

The lad begins to oblige, but Bettley stops him. "Actually, Hound, you might wanna see this." The two exchange a look, but it's Sandor who cringes with Hetherspoon. "I think you'll like it," Bettley continues.

It's an understatement, not that Sandor can say as much. When Hetherspoon turns the phone his way, Sandor has the unique experience of being thankful for the thick, gnarled skin of his face for the way it must cover his blush. On screen, Joffrey Baratheon's pretty girlfriend poses for a mirror selfie in Sandor's jersey and little else. 'Onto the next one' the caption reads, along with a rose and lion emoji to make it clear she's referring to their oncoming series. 

He feigns ignorance. "What am I looking at, exactly?"

"Sansa Stark," Redwyne supplies stupidly. Sandor cuts him a look. "Joffrey Baratheon's ex?"

Ex. Trying hard as he can to stop that train of thought from even leaving the station, Sandor turns back to the phone still being thrust in his direction.

Mistake.

Hetherspoon swipes and the photo changes. She's on her tummy now, the camera angled to only show a corner of her pretty face as his name and numbers writ large across her back seems to be the focus. She's wearing thigh high socks - Casterly colors. Her cute little feet are held aloft, bisecting the neat, feminine bedroom visible in the background. The caption of this one congratulates him on his game winning goal in game five. There are more emojis. A lion/dog combo that's easy enough to interpret, but he has no idea what the remaining jumble is meant to convey. Perhaps that she's dehydrated? There's a lot of water droplets.

Sandor huffs exaggeratedly. "Am I meant to care about some puck slut posing for risque pictures?"

"That's Ned Stark's daughter," Pod objects. 

Redwyne adds, "What're you drowning in options, Hound?"

He outright shakes at the glare Sandor levels him with. 

"She's not a puck… girl," Pod insists, oblivious.

"Some young bird I've never met posting pictures on an app I don't even have and had no way of seeing before you idiots decided to butt in isn't exactly an option either, is it?" It's a blow to the pride to say in front of these shites, but has the desired effect of chastising them. "Quit wasting my time. Phones away and get back to work."

[hiraeth-witch-11]

Possession Part 2

Trigger warnings: brief mentions of sex and murder, customer service hell-scape (not literal)

Word count: 875

Tell me we are not doin’ this for the next 12 hours.

You’re lucky, today is only a 10 hour shift. You continue scanning items, listening to the repetitive beeping and background chatter.

Are you sure we aren’t in Hell right now?

Don’t be a baby. We’re only 2 hours in.

This is so boring.

Boring is better than the alternative. I’m sure you’ll see soon enough.

“I have some coupons,” your customer says, handing you a stack of paper cut outs.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but these are for a different store. And they’re expired,” You explain.

“But they should still work. The last time I came here they accepted them.”

Yeah right.

“Unfortunately, I can’t accept them.”

“You can though. You just have to type some things into your computer. I’ve seen it done,” she continues.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s against store policy.”

“What are you stupid? Just put them in your computer. It’s not that hard!”

What a bitch. I would’ve stabbed her by now, but that’s just me.

“I’m not stupid, ma’am. There is nothing I can do. It’s against store policy.” You keep your tone even. 

“Are you arguing with me? The customer is always right. See this is what’s wrong with your generation.” She huffs and puts her hands on her hip.

I’m older than you and if she was talkin’ to me like that, I wouldn’t stand for it.

Be quiet. You're gonna distract me.

“Ma’am, I cannot accept these coupons. Are you ready for me to finish the transaction?”

“No. I’m not. I want to speak to your manager.” She folds her arms over her chest.

Fine by me. Make her someone else’s problem.

You wave over your manager. “Hey Roger, could I have your help with something real quick?”

“Sure, what’s going on?” Roger asks. He’s nice, you like him as a manager. He usually has your back.

You open your mouth to speak, but the woman interrupts you and begins complaining. Roger is patient, explaining the exact same thing you did and finally getting the woman to leave. Roger isn’t a very tall or particularly strong man, but he’s nice and polite and you have a bit of a professional crush on him. He claps you on the shoulder and gives you an apologetic smile once he leaves. 

He wants to fuck you.

Jesus Christ, William. He does not.

I thought you were gay. How can you have a crush on him?

I’m pan. Equal opportunity as far as crushes go. Gay is just a bit of a catch all term I use when I don’t feel like explaining.

So you would be down for a threesome? You can hear the grin in his words.

You literally are just another dude. Could you be any more cliche?

I could. 

I’m gonna be clear right now. That was not a challenge.

Kinda felt like it.

How old are you, William?

I lost track. I’ve been outta Hell a couple times. Last time was during the Civil War, I think. Time before that is kinda fuzzy. I think some war for independence. When I was human, I fought with swords.

Damn you're old. If you’ve done the possession thing before, why are you so bad at it?

Ouch. I did just fine before. I think something’s wrong with you, not me.

So you’re blaming me for your possession? Take some responsibility for your own actions, my dude.

Responsibility is for suckers. 

You roll your eyes and focus on the rest of the shift. Billy is mostly well behaved-ish and only mentioning murdering the customers occasionally.

Damn look at the rack on her.

I will not.

If I saw, that means you looked.

Okay, I noticed, but it would be impossible not to. I’m not going to stare, that’s rude.

You can practically feel the demon pouting in your mind as he says, Now you’re just bein’ mean.

I know we established you are old as dirt, but I’m not gonna go around ogling women for your amusement.

What about ogling men?

What?!

You said no to women, that leaves a lot of options open. Can we ogle those?

First of all, there is no we in this and no. We are not ogling anyone. Oh my God she’s coming to my lane.

The beautiful brunette woman with the low cut top and killer curves is loading a handful of items onto the conveyor belt. You avoid looking at her as best you can as you scan the items.

“I like your hair,” she says. “It suits you.”

You stumble over your words. “You too. I mean, I like your hair too. Thanks.”

You’re hopeless, sweetheart.

I am not! I was just unprepared. 

“You’re cute,” the woman smiles. “I’ll see you around.”

You hand her the receipt and nod stupidly.

Absolutely hopeless.

Ugh, just a bit.

She wanted to fuck you too by the way.

She did not! How would you even know that? You’re out of date for human interactions by a couple centuries. 

I’m an incubus, plus fucking is timeless.

That’s such a weird thing to say. Of course I get a literal sex demon stuck in my head. God must hate me.

Join the club, buddy.

[puddleorganism]

Oh god I think I just realized why ai generated images work. It’s our own weird ass monkey brains being uses against us.

Like, we all already know the brain fills in the gaps in your perception automatically. Especially with sight. I think when you look at ai generated images your brain automatically does that - it smooths over the imperfections. Especially with photos, because they look real at first glance. The textures, the lighting, it just looks like a real photo so you don’t notice even glaring imperfections. Your brain is literally designed to fill in the gaps. To make it make sense.

Like, for instance, me and my friends were roasting some ai generated image scams (which you should do because it’s honestly good practice for learning how to see those imperfections), and I didn’t even notice the scale was wildly off until a friend pointed it out - for 15 minutes. I was looking at the image for 15 minutes and didn’t notice the focus of the image was completely out of scale with the background.

Anyway. If you want to learn to recognize the hallmarks of ai images (specifically the ones mimicking photos, ai generated art is different) I recommend looking real hard at some. Here are some thing I’ve noticed to be common, though*:

The decor of rooms tend to all be the same sort of style. I don’t know how to describe interior decorating but it’s all like. Mostly white, boxy furniture, lots of houseplants. Kind of like… rustic modern I think?? This could probably change if you put in specific prompts for the background though

Speaking of houseplants, those seem to be hard to do. The leaves tend to just kinda form a blob, and can be odd shapes. I’ve also seen them kind of bleed into the image? Like there was just a fuzzy smudge of green by the plant.

Repeating patterns seem to be tricky for ai. Things like tiles, keyboards, feathers, and sometimes bricks. They look mostly fine at a glance but if you zoom in they’re so janky

Similarly, flooring can be inconsistent. Like, the lines of floorboards can go behind something, and be a different pattern on the other side.

Framed pictures look indistinct or are just a solid block of color

Lighting! Sometimes it makes sense, but sometimes shadows just go a random direction regardless of light sources (eg. shadows are cast to the right, but there is a bright window behind the thing casting the shadow, so they should be moving forward). Also, I don’t think ai can do multiple light sources? Like, in real life you know that thing that shadows do where they duplicate if there’s multiple lights in a room? I’ve yet to see that.

Animals, especially mammals (ESPECIALLY cats) seem to be easy to make a good approximation of, but often aren’t anatomically accurate. Unfortunately, you need to know what they look like beforehand, and with so many ai images out there now looking it up is probably going to be hard. For example, birds species have pretty defined shapes for their wings and tail feathers, and if you know what those are it’s glaringly obvious when ai gets them wrong. I recommend looking at zoos’ social media, Wikipedia, other scientific articles, and older books (photo books, encyclopedias) if you want good references now.

It seems to usually do extremely smooth, but somewhat contrasted lighting. Which means bright light source, and often darker, defined shadows. (But not too dark? For some reason it has more contrast than usual, but not a whole lot)

Scale and perspective are often inconsistent. For instance with scale, a human might be too small compared to the background. With perspective it can be floorboards at a different angle to the wall, or like a cabinet could be flat against a wall when it looks like you should be able to see the top.

*note: these are my personal observations/patterns I’ve noticed, they’re not like a set rule book on what ai can and cannot do. They’re also liable to change, as ai is advancing very quickly.

[ejzah]

Can you write a fanfic set between the events of late season 4/early season 5 just before Sam finally accepts Deeks after all this time. Hetty witnesses a real hostile moment where she clearly sees Sam being unfair and critical of Deeks during an important mission despite the fact Deeks did his job to the absolute best and height of his abilites. Despite this, Sam still gives Deeks a hard time and so Hetty takes Sam aside and gives him a firm scolding of his unfair treatment.

A/N: As always when I write Hetty these days, I have mixed feelings. While Deeks is/was perfectly capable of defending himself, I think Hetty could have done more to intervene when he was mistreated.

***

Can You See What’s Right Before your Eyes?

“Did you guys finish the weapons audit?” Callen asked, going through the checklist Nell passed on from Hetty every month.

“Yup,” Deeks answered. “And as always, Kensi had the time of her life.”

“Once again, I only enjoy cleaning my own weapons,” she clarified, inclining. “And that’s mostly the knives.”

“Sexy,” he commented with a wink in Kensi’s direction.

“Moving on,” Callen prompted with a pointed clearing of his throat. He nodded to Sam across the room. “Did you review those files Nell gave you?”

“Yeah, another batch of rookies. Hetty’s having a couple come by next week,” Sam said, gesturing to two files on his desk. “The usual drill, they’ll shadow one of us for part of the day in the field to see what we do here and get a chance for some hands-on training. The job is open for any takers.”

“I’ll do it,” Deeks volunteered, gaining a raised eyebrow of surprise from Kensi.

“Oh, that’s very generous of you,” she commented. “You must want something.” Deeks rolled his eyes, knowing she was mostly joking.

“All of you already owe me favors I haven’t cashed in on.” He waved his index finger in a figure to encompass the bullpen and OPS. “No, you guys always complain about having to deal with rookie agents, and since I actually enjoy meeting new people—most of the time—why not? I know, it’ll be tough for you to be separated from me for so long.” He batted his eyelashes at Kensi, who scoffed, overplaying her disgust slightly.

“As if.”

Callen and Sam had watched their whole conversation play out without comment. Deeks turned to them, pretty much expecting the arrangement to be a done deal, but after another moment, Sam shook his head.

“No, I’m not comfortable with that,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Deeks asked, making an incredulous noise. When Sam didn’t crack a smile, he realized he was completely serious. “Why not?”

“You’re not an agent.”

“In all but name. I do the same exact job as all of you, turn in the same reports, risk my life practically every day. What is there to object about?”

Deeks had grown used to his tumultuous relationship with Sam, and had noticed an uptick in the pointed comments, insults, and slights directed his way recently. He’d put it down to the stress of everything going on with Sidorov and Michelle, so had excused it for the most part. None of them were at their best when concerned about a loved one.

This though, was unnecessary.

Sam shrugged dismissively in response to Deeks’ challenge, shaking his head. “You don’t have the same training, you didn’t take the same oath, don’t have the background we do.” He gestured between himself and Deeks now, like it was obvious. “You’re a cop, I’m an agent. We’re not the same.”

“Actually, I think you’ll find I’m an LAPD Liaison, with a rank of Detective,” Deeks corrected with false pleasantry.

“Deeks, we want these kids coming in to learn the proper protocol and have a good example of our work,” Sam said, and Kensi made a soft noise of shock.

“Sam,” she objected, looking vaguely horrified. Callen for his part, was determinedly staring at his computer. He never did like to get involved in these types of conflicts.

“No, it’s ok,” Deeks said, even though bitterness mixed with disbelief filled him. He pasted on a smile that he was sure came off more menacing than anything. “Sam has made his opinion perfectly clear.” He pushed back from his desk. “Have fun answering all those rookie questions, Sam. I know you love that part.”

***

“Mr. Hanna, would you mind coming over her for a moment?” Hetty called from her desk while everyone headed out for the day. As usual, it was voiced as a request, but was in reality a demand.

He walked over, offering a half-smile. “Callen agrees to handle the rookies. All the other monthly duties are up to date,” he reported, anticipating her question.

“That’s good to know,” she replied, waiting a beat, hands steepled, her eyes burrowing into him in a way that would never not be unnerving. She pursed her lips, speaking slowly. “However, that’s not why I asked you to stay behind.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“I overheard your discussion with Mr. Deeks this morning.”

“What conversation?” He’d had half a dozen “conversations” with Deeks, most of which made him what to smack the detective. He didn’t know why, but some days everything Deeks did seemed to annoy him.

“The one about the visiting rookie agents. I heard Deeks offer to work with them, quite generously, might I say,” she explained, pausing yet again. “I also heard your response to that offer.”

Sam smiled, knowing where this was going now. “And let me guess, Deeks complained about it.”

“Mr. Deeks said nothing to me. I believe you know he fights his own battles. No, this is about why you don’t think Deeks can handle the task and why you felt the need to undermine his abilities.”

“It’s Deeks, Hetty,” Sam said. “He’s unpredictable, unreliable, rebellious—”

“Regardless of his pedigree, Deeks is none of those things. To the contrary, he’s one of the very best operators this team has ever seen. Yes, he’s a maverick many times, but that is what makes him so useful to this team.”

Sam set his jaw, frustrated by what felt like an unearned scolding. Hetty stared back with an annoying wide-eyed expression.

“Certainly, you’ve benefitted from his out-of-the-box thinking yourself many times. And even if you can’t appreciate his methods, then you can’t deny Deeks would do anything to protect this team and those we defend.”

“I’m not apologizing to him,” Sam said.

“No, I don’t expect you to. I do, however, expect you to treat Deeks with the respect he has earned and deserves. Is that understood?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Sam confirmed, tapping his knuckle on Hetty’s desk.

“Good.” She nodded. “Have a good night, Sam.”

“Thanks.” He smiled back, tempering his annoyance at Hetty. At Deeks and his floppy hair and inability to conform.

***

A/N: Hope this is all right.

Thanks for the prompt!

[fenalith]

Review Dragon Age: Veilguard

Play Time: ~70 hours 

Platform: EA Pro Play 

Rating: 3/10

I’ve kept it mostly spoiler-free, though I mention the game’s ending and general consequences without diving in on specifics. If you want to go in completely blind, this isn’t the review for you.

Character Creator 

Veilguard offers one of the best character creators I’ve used. It includes both sliders and a unique feature that lets you morph three head models together, which I enjoyed. You can also customize your character’s body—another first for the series which I appreciate. 

There are some limitations, though. Characters feel a bit square, so creating a typically cute, character could be more challenging. That said, I had no trouble with the character I aimed to make. The selection of hair, scars, and tattoos is good, although it’s missing piercings.

Environments 

The environments in Veilguard are impressive. I had a few oh, that’s pretty moments, but overall, I found it hard to feel fully immersed. The cities are large and detailed, but they lack distinct, memorable qualities. 

A city like Minrathous has the potential to be an exciting showcase of magic woven into everyday life. Imagine mages using spells to transport goods or perform mundane tasks, or a clear divide between magic users and non-magic users, highlighting the social dynamics in a place where magic is an advantage. Instead, most NPCs feel static, and magic doesn’t feel as prevalent as it could. For a place built up as legendary in previous games, it’s a missed opportunity.

Character Design

I do like the character design of Veilguard in a vacuum. Faces and hair are a big step up, and the armors are varied and nice to look at. But it comes at the cost that it feels overdone, leaning into flashy, almost cartoony territory. I’d prefer a balance between practicality and visual flair, and while some armor sets strike that balance, most don't.

Take Lucanis, for example. As an assassin, I’d expect more subtlety in his gear, but many of his armor sets are anything but. This could've worked if it matched his personality better, if he wore it intentionally, maybe as a sign of confidence in his skills. But Lucanis comes across as focused on professionalism, making the flashy design feel heavy-handed and impractical.

Similar issues pop up with other characters. Darin’s open-chested armor seems impractical for a warrior, and Neve, supposedly from Docktown, looks more like an aristocrat from Orlais than her background suggests. Bellara’s design is fine, but aside from her vallaslin, she doesn’t seem particularly Dalish. Emmerich and Harding look fine, especially in their camp outfits, which I actually prefer for most characters.

This isn’t a huge complaint on it's own, but I think it hints at a bigger issue in Veilguard: a lack of thought behind what’s shown. 

Combat and Gameplay 

I’ll be honest—I eventually turned the difficulty down to story mode just to get through the game. The combat didn’t do it for me: repetitive enemy hordes that seem randomly placed, limited abilities, and dodging and rolling mechanics that don’t feel very engaging.

Aside from a few setpieces and maybe two boss fights, no encounter really stood out. It’s not a particularly hard game, it just got tedious after a couple of hours. That said, some spells do feel powerful and satisfying to use, which I can appreciate.

Another complaint is that every class now feels overly magical. Mixing abilities can be interesting, as they did with some companions, but if you play a warrior, I want it to feel like your strength comes from physical prowess, not from magic. Striking a good balance here feels important, especially since the lore around magic is such a key part of Dragon Age. 

There’s also the matter of the quest marker, which can be rather obtrusive, and the loot that feels out of place due to its flashy animation. I started skipping loot in certain areas because it felt inappropriate and slowed down the pacing in places where you should feel a sense of urgency.

Story and World-Building 

Starting with the biggest issue: Veilguard’s main story feels like a weak rehash of “save the world from the big bad.” Dragon Age has done this before, but Veilguard lacks the momentum and depth that kept me invested in past games. In Inquisition, even if Corypheus wasn’t the most compelling villain, there was still a sense of growth as you built up your organization and connected with companions. In Veilguard, it feels like they stripped away what worked and just kept Corypheus. And the worst part? I kind of miss Corypheus. 

The villains in this… honestly, where to start? With actual evil laughs, generic dialogue, and endless name repetition, they don’t feel like characters at all—just caricatures with simplistic goals. Rather than feeling meaningful, they’re just names repeated so often it feels like the game worries I’ll forget them. Ironically, I still don’t remember their names. 

Villains aside, events unfold without much connection, leaving me questioning why things happen the way they do. Why are we choosing these allies? Why am I stuck doing busy work for them while the world is supposedly ending? They don’t provide any real assets or sense of purpose. The Shadow Dragons, the Crows, the Wardens—all these factions make sense to be here but do nothing meaningful for the story or the worldbuilding.

Instead, it feels like Rook is a one-man army handling WAY more than they should. If we’d had them instead of the Hero of Ferelden, the Blight would’ve ended in Ostagar—and every named NPC would’ve survived, including the Archdemon’s slayer. 

Even dramatic scenes lack memorable moments. For example, there is a prison escape that's visually pretty but otherwise lacks substance. The person you rescue has supposedly been there a year, but nothing about their appearance or behavior reflects this. There’s no memorable dialogue, nothing deeper—it’s all surface-level.

The ending, to its credit, was nicely paced and visually strong. If the rest of the game had been more like that, it would’ve been a decent experience. 

Further, I personally think Bioware are cowards for only letting you side with an anti-slave organisation. Come on: This isn't the Teviner you've built towards for 3 games! *shakes fist*

Character and Companion Dynamics 

The companions in Veilguard face similar issues in how they’re written. While presented as experts, they rarely get the chance to demonstrate their skills. To be fair, Harding sometimes provides useful contacts, and Emmerich occasionally shows his abilities, but beyond that, they often feel like tropes with minimal growth or depth.

For instance, one character is the “unwilling father,” but we never see him grapple with it genuinely—he just says it. Others are similarly shallow: the socially awkward “nerd,” the “noir detective” with a heavy burden, and the “tortured assassin” who doesn’t seem all that tortured. Insights rarely go deeper than quirks, like loving coffee or fish, which get mentioned repeatedly without further development. 

Previous games built strong, opinionated characters who added depth to the world, but here, companions are lacking. Banter, which I loved in earlier games, is shallow, with little conflict or chemistry. I’ve never played a Dragon Age game where I wanted to skip side quests or companion quests, yet here, I actually did. And it’s not just because the characters didn’t resonate with me; ironically, skipping side content becomes the only way to create a sense of believable agency, that actually impacts your companions.

But relying on skipped content for dramatic impact points to a lack of thoughtful development. There should be stakes and meaningful choices built into the narrative, not something achieved by avoiding parts of the game. 

As for the main character 

When it comes to the main character, Rook’s voice actor truly nailed the tone I envisioned, which only makes the limited dialogue options more frustrating. I tried to play Rook as a practical, no-nonsense character, but the writing kept steering me back to a softer, more agreeable tone. It worked well enough for my character, but if you’re aiming for a tougher or more forceful personality, it’s going to feel extremely limiting. So, if you plan to play, be prepared for Rook to come across as a 'diplomat' with only slight variation. Further, you are also forced to agree with everyone, and never get to question them or their motives.

Ending Words 

All this said, this review comes from a long-time fan who’s enjoyed all previous Dragon Age games, particularly the first two. I don’t think it’s impossible to enjoy Veilguard. From what I’ve seen, some players enjoy the game’s moments—whether it’s petting random cats, or the characters love for fish or coffee, or simply the visuals or gameplay. I don’t get it, but there’s clear appeal for some.

If you’re like me, and the highlights of previous games have been the banter, character depth, and exploring the world and lore, you’ll very likely be disappointed. Honestly, I’d even recommend skipping it and just looking up the highlights. Save yourself. No matter what, I’d suggest waiting for a sale. It’s not worth the full price. 

[dutifulsnack]

Watched Temurun (2024) today. It's an Indonesian horror film. I give it a solid 7/10. Good to watch when you have nothing else in mind, but doesn't do anything too noteworthy.

Spoilers below -

I wanted the men to lose and the men lost! So I'm pretty happy.

The plot could've taken interesting turns, but it didn't. I for one, would've rather had the plot be more focused on the intrigue between the father and the maid(?). The maid was already an excellent character, and the father needed to be developed more, not sure how you'd do that without chewing up precious screentime though.

The plot was pretty straightforward, every major event was shown on screen and everything was spelled out. Bad for those who prefer their horror films mysterious, but I liked it.

The scares weren't too bad. I would say that if you were vigilant and a regular to horror, you would probably see all of the scares coming. I don't think they're bad, but they seem to be scares for the sake of scares?

They aren't interesting, is what I'm saying. There's a scene in Dewi's bed when momma ghost shows up, it would've been more interesting if momma ghost did more in that scene to set up parts of Dewi's plot later.

Also, I kept seeing potential scares in the backgrounds that never came to be. It's like not finding treasure behind a waterfall in video games. Leaves me a little disappointed, but I guess I would complain that it's cliché nowadays. Also, I think the first scene with dark ghost momma needed to be darker/less clear.

Hard to say how good the dialogue was, cuz I don't speak the language. Keep that in mind for the next paragraph.

I think the acting was good and expressive, although sometimes the expressions felt overacted (not too bad though). I think that Yasamin Jasem (Dewi's actress) definitely did the best job out of the entire cast. It might be because she did the most out of the entire cast, I dunno. The brother's scenes were mostly not about him, so his actor didn't get to act too much.

I liked the camera angles and the sequences. No sequence dragged for too long (maybe one? The one with the father revealing the dagger was a little too long).

There aren't that many practical or computer generated effects, and some of them seem to be pretty poor.

The makeup and... Monster costuming? Was excellent. I liked it. It was good.