#for months and months i think i've just been stewing in it. it doesn't help w my processing time like

[moe-broey]

Man do you think I should just start shit. Do you think I should just finally put my foot down. If you don't respect me, you don't get to say you love me. Ect

[mandalhoerian]

forced proximity | baking | wild west au ❅ Leon Secret Santa ( @leonsecretsanta ) ❅ gift for @bonesnplywood !!

summary: When a wagon mishap in the middle of a snowstorm leaves the new sheriff Leon Kennedy stranded at the local bakery, he’s reluctantly pulled into a lighthearted afternoon of decorating gingerbread cookies with the town’s spirited baker, you.

word count: close to 5K, read on ao3

note: AMBER ITS ME!! YOUR SECRET SANTA!!! THE WORST PERSON THESE TROPES COULD POSSIBLY FALL INTO THE LAP OF!!!! I've never in my life joined an event like this or written about christmas (jingle halal everyone), and i was doomed from the start because wild west is something i know absolutely nothing about 😞 so i had to make insane research on the topic for this, and i mean, "insane" research <2 me>, because i've had to look up things such as sugar, icing (did it exist? what about hot chocolate. plot twist, IT DOES), what they baked, how non-commercialized christmas was like back then, and overall about frontier towns, and i swear i was on the verge of tears about to drop out THIS 👌 CLOSE 😭😭😭 I hope I was at least able to catch the vibes and it's enjoyable, please excuse any mistakes or weird stuff overall that doesn't fit, i tried.... merry christmas!

Christmas around these parts was a quiet affair, mostly celebrated by children and the devout few who filled the pews of the old church on the hill. There were no garlands or ribbons strung up, no carolers wandering door to door. Folks didn’t have the time or money for all that fuss.

Instead, Christmas was something simpler. Something humbler. A rare pie cooling on a windowsill, the smell of woodsmoke mingling with fresh bread if a family could spare the flour and sugar, stockings, little more than patched-up socks, hung over fireplaces with faint hope... Sometimes, if the weather allowed, neighbors gathered for a pot of stew or shared biscuits, squeezing together at too-small tables and swapping stories to warm the room better than the fire ever could.

And yet, you, neither a dutiful churchgoer nor a small child any longer, cared more about this holiday than most. Actually, scratch that. “Cared” didn’t begin to cover it.

You lived for Christmas.

Always had. Ever since you were small, the holidays had lit something in you. All of them mattered, but Christmas? That was special. It wasn’t just the crisp air or the smell of pine needles in the bakery where you grew up. It was the whole season, the way December turned the world into something softer, kinder. Your father had seen to that.

Every year, he’d throw open the bakery doors to the orphanage down the lane, baking for the children who had no family to celebrate with. The evenings were loud with laughter, warm with the smell of bread and cakes, and rich with your father’s tall tales spun at the dinner table. He’d send those kids home with free loaves to last them through the winter, and no matter how much the townspeople complained about the expense, they’d show up to help--eventually. Even the grumps couldn’t resist the sight of those kids, faces bright with joy, or the way the bakery felt like the heart of the town in those fleeting weeks.

Of course, none of that magic happened on its own. The ingredients alone were a fortune, especially now, and it had taken some creative wheeling and dealing to keep things running smoothly. Mayor Irons had been easy enough to bribe, an extra haul of your famous sweets for his office, a special stash of sugar sticks just for him. The old sleazeball had learned long ago not to ask questions, especially when the end-of-month "bonus" arrived. It was a necessary evil, one you barely had to think about anymore.

This year, though, was different. The snowstorm had rolled in fast, blanketing the town in thick, sparkling drifts that clung to rooftops and piled high in the streets. It was beautiful in the way all fresh snow is, softening the edges of a hard world. But this wasn’t the gentle, picturesque snowfall from a child's drawing. This storm had teeth. Roads were already impassable, and while the bakery’s ovens burned bright and warm, you couldn’t help but worry about what would happen if the storm kept on. Business had slowed to a crawl, but you weren’t about to close the shop, not with so much left to do before the Christmas festival. The Mayor needed his payment. 

Your gaze drifted to the empty shelf behind the counter where sacks of flour and sugar were meant to sit. Supplies that should have arrived hours ago. Supplies you needed for the dozens of gingerbread cookies and other desserts.

Your father had thrown in the towel hours back, muttering that it was pointless to keep the place open when there was nothing left to sell. You, stubborn as always, refused to leave. The wagon train will come, you’d insisted. You weren’t about to trek home in this snowstorm, anyway, and someone needed to mind the fire. But as the wind howled against the windows and the blizzard thickened to a near whiteout, you were beginning to think your father might’ve had a point.

Then, the bell above the door jingled.

You jolted, spinning around.

"Finally," you muttered, brushing flour-dusted hands on your apron as you turned. "Come on in! You're lettin—"

The words caught in your throat.

It wasn’t the deliveryman standing there, but the sheriff—Leon Kennedy—silhouetted in the doorway like a figure out of legend. His wide-brimmed hat, damp and battered, was barely clinging to his head thanks to the string knotted beneath his chin. On his shoulders, six sacks of supplies were stacked so high it made him look almost absurd in the middle of your little bakery. Snow clung to his coat like he’d wrestled a blizzard and won, but that didn’t stop him from nudging the door shut with the heel of his boot and stepping further inside. The quiet thud of those sacks hitting the wooden floor sent a plume of cold air swirling around the room.

You blinked at him, dumbfounded.

“Sheriff?”

Leon straightened, dusting snow from his coat with broad, deliberate swipes. “Sorry I’m late.” He nodded to the sacks, as though hauling half a wagon’s worth of supplies on his back through a blizzard was the most normal thing in the world.

“Where’s the wagon?” you managed, trying to peer through the frosted window before turning back to him.

“Broke down a mile back,” he said, his voice roughened by the cold. “Axle snapped.”

Your stomach dropped. “A mile? In this weather?”

“Figured I’d at least bring what I could carry.” He kicked the snow from his boots, each thud matching the quickening of your heartbeat. “Rest will have to wait.”

You stared at him, then the sacks of flour and sugar piled on the floor. He’d walked through a goddamn blizzard. A mile, uphill, no less—you didn’t even need to ask to know that was the case. You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a breath of air. Finally, you croaked, “I… Thank you.”

Leon just nodded, like gratitude was something he shrugged off the same way he shook snow from his coat. “What needs doin’?” he asked, glancing toward the empty shelves. “Looks like you’re behind.”

You’d just watched the man shoulder a blizzard and a mile of snowbanks, and now he wanted to help you restock?

Your gaze flickered to him—to his reddened cheeks and the tips of his nose, glowing like embers from the cold. The dark leather of his duster was soaked through, clinging to him like a second skin, and the snow gathered on the brim of his hat had begun to melt and drip onto the floorboards.

“Hold on a second,” you said, recovering your wits as you marched around the counter. “You’re half-frozen, Sheriff. Give me that coat before you catch your death.”

Leon’s brow quirked faintly, his lips twitching into something close to a smile. “I’m fine.”

“The hell you are.” You grabbed the hem of his coat, already tugging it off his shoulders before he could protest. The leather was heavier than it looked, soaked through and frigid to the touch. Jesus.

Leon let out a small, huffed laugh, raising his arms in surrender as you worked the coat free. Cedar, you thought absently, catching the scent that clung to him, warm and woodsy even beneath the chill.

“Sit down and warm up,” you ordered, pointing toward the small table near the fire. “You're not going anywhere in this weather.”

“And the shelves?” he asked, ever the dutiful sheriff.

“None of your damn business. You just carried half the territory’s worth of flour through a blizzard—I’d say you’ve earned five minutes.”

Leon’s smile turned genuine then, soft around the edges, and for the first time since he’d walked in, you saw the faintest hint of color return to his face. He nodded, boots thudding against the floor as he made his way to the chair.

As you turned back toward the sacks of supplies, already mentally calculating how much work lay ahead, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder. Leon was sitting by the fire now, elbows resting on his knees, hat in one hand and gloves dangling from the other, his gaze distant as he watched the flames. He looked tired. More tired than any man who’d just hauled a mile of flour and sugar should look, but there was something steady in the way he sat there, unshakable, like no storm could ever touch him.

You exhaled softly, shaking your head as you rolled up your sleeves. Christmas was comin’ whether the snow liked it or not.

You busied yourself at the counter, half-focused on the dough you were rolling out and half on the quiet presence of the man. After a while, the silence stretched like the dough underneath your hands, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire and the soft thud of your movements against your work surface.

He wasn't very talkative in the first place, you knew as much, thinking that perhaps you could have accomodated him better instead of throwing yourself immediately into work the moment you'd gotten what you'd been waiting for the whole morning. The awkwardness that stifled the bakery was bothersome enough that you chanced another glance at Leon, and caught him watching you, eyes briefly darting to the counter before returning to the oven. 

“You decorating all those yourself?” he asked finally, nodding toward the trays of fresh-out-the-oven, undecorated gingerbread men to the side that were cooling off.

You blinked, pausing mid-roll. “I was planning to, yeah.”

He stood, rolling his shoulders as if testing how much energy he had left after the trek. “You’ve got a lot of work left. Might as well make myself useful.”

Your brows rose in mild surprise, but you quickly recovered. “You’ve already done more than enough.”

“Storm’s not letting up anytime soon,” he said simply, moving closer to the counter. “Might as well pass the time doing something.”

He put as much intensity into the staring match that followed as he would into a gunfight. It was inevitable that you'd lose. 

Finally, you reluctantly handed him an icing bag, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Alright, Sheriff. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Leon took the bag, turning it over in his hands like it was a tool he needed to get a feel for. “Fair warning,” he said, “I’m better with a six-shooter than whatever this is.”

“It’s just icing. Start slow and gentle. No sharpshooting required.”

“Good,” he replied dryly. “Would hate to accidentally take out a gingerbread man.”

Was that... a joke? Did he just make a joke? 

You stepped closer to him, catching the way his hands dwarfed the small icing tube as he held it. His brow furrowed in concentration, the usual stoic expression on his face betraying just a smidge of uncertainty. There was something endearing about seeing him like this, someone so strong and sure reduced to puzzling over frosting.

“Here,” you said softly, placing your hands over his fingers, which twitched beneath yours, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he stilled, letting you guide him. The warmth of his skin seeped into your palms, and you found yourself acutely aware of how close the two of you were.

“Hold it steady,” you murmured, your voice dipping low and deliberate, as if sharing a secret. “The trick is even pressure. Like this.”

You shifted your grip slightly, your thumbs brushing against his knuckles with a deliberate slowness. His hands, so large and steady, seemed to falter beneath your touch, the tiniest twitch betraying his awkwardness. You caught the faint hitch in his breath and felt the way his shoulders stiffened, as though unsure whether to lean into your guidance or escape it entirely, yet together with you, he squeezed the tube gently, a neat line of icing trailing onto the cookie below. He wasn’t focused on the cookie, though—not really. The way his hands followed your movements made it clear he was hyper-aware of the closeness, unsure but not resisting. Feeling the heat rise to your face, you quickly changed tack, pulling your hands away with a light laugh.

"You’ve got it from here," you said, stepping back slightly and gesturing to the cookie in front of him, your tone bright and easy.

Leon exhaled slowly, his breath brushing the side of your face. “Guess I was pressing too hard.”

“Most people do,” you replied, glancing up at him briefly. His focus was in front of him, but his jaw was tight. You could feel the tension in his shoulders despite him admitting what he'd been doing wrong. “Relax your grip a little.”

You adjusted his hold, guiding his hand through another clean line of icing, your bodies aligned as if the two of you had done this a hundred times before. When you finally released his hands, the absence of contact felt oddly stark... Thanks to the cold weather, no doubt. 

“Think you’ve got it now?” you asked, stepping back slightly, though your heartbeat had yet to slow.

“Think I’ll need a little more practice.”

That sounded suave at the time, but he was right, in the end. Leon’s first attempt at decorating was, to put it kindly, a disaster.

The icing tube seemed to have a mind of its own, spilling a shaky, jagged line across the gingerbread man’s torso. His frown was growing deeper by each passing minute, and he was constantly adjusting his grip, but it only got worse. By the time he set the tube down, the poor cookie looked more like a battlefield casualty than a festive treat.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter. It bubbled up, light and genuine, as you reached over to inspect his handiwork. “Well,” you said, biting back a grin, “it’s… unique.”

“It’s terrible,” Leon muttered, a touch of color rising in his cheeks as he glanced at your much neater designs. “Maybe I should stick to chasing outlaws.”

“Aw, come on,” you teased, nudging his arm. “You’re just gettin' started. Besides, this is supposed to be fun, not perfect.”

He gave a skeptical huff but picked up the tube again, determined to try. How earnest. You leaned closer, pointing out how to apply even pressure, your hands brushing his as you demonstrated even though you didn't really need to do all of that. Something about enjoying a skilled grown man being awkward about something you were good at and wanting to enjoy moments of making him fumble. 

“There you go,” you encouraged as his next attempt turned out… well, marginally better. “See? Not bad for a first-timer.”

"I feel bad for whoever this will be eaten by," he muttered, referring to the misshapen abomination in his hand that could hardly qualify as a 'person.'

"It's the Mayor," you blurted out without thinking, causing a choked laugh escape past his lips, surprise lighting up his handsome features.

"Really?"

"Yep," you grinned, winking conspiratorially at him. "You're helping me bribe the man to invest more on Christmas. Gotta throw in some of your... specialties in there for good luck."

"You're trying to get me fired," he deadpanned, as dry as the wood stacked by the hearth. "And blacklisted."

A loud laugh tore itself out of your throat, warm and melodious in nature. He looked oddly pleased at having brought it out of you, the corners of his lips twitching up minutely before returning to its neutral position. God, how cute! You wondered what other expressions you could draw out of him if you tried. It wasn't fair how handsome he was when he smiled like that, a real smile, with actual emotion. That tiny change softened the harsh line of his mouth and eased the shadow of exhaustion from his face, making him look like a completely different person, like another version of himself who existed behind closed doors. The image stayed burned into your mind's retina as you resumed decorating the cookies with your nimble fingers, sneaking glances every so often, studying him from beneath your lashes.

You wanted to know more about this man. In a way, this snowstorm had been a good thing. 

“So,” you started, reaching for another cookie to decorate, “what made you take the sheriff’s job? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t strike me as the type who’d want to babysit a town like this.”

Leon glanced at you, his hand pausing mid-squeeze. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, ya know.” You gestured vaguely at him, smirking. “That look. Like you’ve seen too much of the world already and don’t trust any of it.”

He let out a soft, humorless laugh. “You’re not wrong.” For a moment, he focused on his cookie again, the silence stretching between you both. Then, quietly, he added, “I figured it was time to slow down. Maybe try something simpler.”

You arched a brow. “Simpler? Sheriff in a town like this? You must not have heard about all the trouble this place sees.”

“I’ve heard,” he said, glancing your way with the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “Still beats the alternative.”

The weight in his voice gave you pause. You didn’t press, sensing there were things he wasn’t ready to share, and not your place to know in the first place. Instead, you held up one of your finished cookies. “Well, here’s to slowing down. Even if it means spending your days wrestling with icing.”

“I’ll take it over the wrestling I’m used to,” he said, his lips twitching into a soft smile as he picked up another cookie. "Already like this better. It's nice working with someone like this. Having a calm evening instead of the usual shit I'm doing. Christmas cookie decorating. Who'd've thought, right?"

"That sounds lonely, Sheriff."

A strange, distant look crossed over his face momentarily, something melancholic and longing flitting across his face before it vanished again under the cool mask you were familiar with.

He let out a small, sad sigh. "...Yeah. S'pose it is."

"You know... Christmas is all about coming together. Starting fresh. And sometimes taking a little break from reality to enjoy yourself," you added thoughtfully, trying not to be too on the nose about what you were trying to convey. "We all need a little grace. Especially around this time of year."

He snorted softly at that, amused.

Your hand moved quicker than your mind could react, bringing the piping tip dangerously close to his mouth. "Care to repeat that?"

Leon blinked, momentarily stunned. "Christmas suits you," he repeated, more brazenly this time, daring you to follow through with the implicit threat. "All warm and welcoming." He leaned forward, almost challenging in nature. "Like this bakery of yours."

"Oh, well—" your ears burned hotter at the implications. If anyone saw you like this now, you would've been done for.

You cleared your throat, attempting to keep yourself composed even as Leon's stare bore a hole through your skull. The damn man was just teasing you, looking smug as fuck for figuring out how to make you flustered for once.

"You better watch your pretty mouth, or else I'll decorate it shut instead."

Leon threw you his most innocent, butter-wouldn't-melt smile, and oh—was he laying it on thick just to rile you up. He seemed to have recovered from earlier, all broody and cold-shouldered as he usually was. This new, playful side of him was going to kill you before the day was over, you were absolutely certain of it.

"Maybe next time," he said simply with a nonchalant shrug. 

The man had some nerve. Just the mere implication made your head spin. Did he mean it? Was he flirting? What did that mean for him? For you? You thought back to the few times you'd seen him around town—the polite smiles and nods exchanged at a distance; the brief conversation when your order went missing; the sudden appearance this afternoon that saved your day—and wondered why things were so easy between you despite how limited the interactions. Maybe because you knew each other well enough in name only, without the addition of many personal details beyond those spoken on a passing basis. Or maybe there was something deeper and unspoken that existed between you two ever since that first interaction at the saloon several weeks ago. Maybe you weren't imagining the subtle, shy looks, the hidden smiles, the way he tended to linger by the doorway to watch you work long after he ran out of excuses to be there anymore.

You shook away such thoughts and returned to decorating, not sure what to say in response.

"...Do you ever get the temptation to have any while you do this?" He asked all of a sudden, changing the topic abruptly. "Or wait til the last batch gets done and then have them?"

"These are for Christmas!"

"They are for the Mayor."

You couldn't help but giggle, especially since he said that like someone else would talk about some slimy thing on the bottom of their shoe. "For Christmas's sake."

"Would you eat one? Any of these ones I did?" There was something almost like playful disappointment there, in his tone. "I think we need to do some... quality testing before deciding to send them off to my employer and risk my job while we're at it."

There were very few times Leon Kennedy was described as an optimist, even fewer times he could be considered amusing (the townsfolk seemed convinced he wasn't capable of joy), but hearing him make a joke regarding his 'employer' with you made something flip inside your tummy. It didn't take long for you to cave, popping the partially iced gingerbread man into your mouth.

And that's how both of you ended up sitting down and devouring the whole batch, with two cups of steaming hot chocolate courtesy of yours truly. In true Christmas spirit, Leon even suggested making a gingerbread house from scratch in the shape of the mayor's office (complete with a gingerbread dog) and helping you with the baking process.

At this point, neither of you cared about decorum—the sheriff's sleeves were rolled up high on his arms, and you'd shucked your apron ages ago. Between the pair of you, you had enough raw dough in your mouths to sink a ship, but it was delicious, and your stomach was full of warm gingerbread and sweet cream. All that was missing was eggnog and a roaring fire, and it really felt like Christmas. His company, too, was surprisingly pleasant. Though Leon was quiet—always quiet—he listened attentively to your chatter while you kneaded the dough and he mixed the sugar and eggs while occasionaly going in for the hot chocolate, which was quite endearing for a man you hadn't seen with any beverage other than some sort of alcohol at the saloon.

You leaned against the counter as Leon poured another mug of hot chocolate, his sleeves still rolled up and his hair slightly mussed from pushing it away too many times so it wouldn't get in his eyes while he worked. The snowstorm had calmed some, but the wind still howled outside, leaving little to do but bake another batch of cookies and fruitcakes to pass the time—and keep the shop warm.

“So, about that axle,” you started, reaching for the bowl of flour. “No one told you it was shot?”

Leon shook his head, his expression almost sheepish. “Guess I didn’t ask the right questions. Higgins just said it was ‘good enough.’”

You snorted, scooping flour into the mixing bowl. “‘Good enough’ by Higgins’ standards means it’s one bump away from falling apart. The man’s been patching that wagon together with spit and stubbornness for years.”

Leon’s lips twitched in a faint smile as he leaned against the counter across from you. “Noted for next time.”

“You’re lucky it lasted as long as it did. But you’ll get used to that around here. Everyone’s got their quirks, and most of them involve cutting corners where they shouldn’t.”

“Yeah?” Leon’s tone invited more, his eyes steady on yours as he sipped his hot chocolate.

“Oh, definitely,” you said, grabbing the sugar. “Take Mrs. Winslow, for example. Sweet old lady, bakes pies for half the town out of the goodness of her heart that it's bad for my business, but did you know she’s the reason the post office closes early every other Thursday?”

Leon blinked. “I… can’t say I did.”

You grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “She’s been having a years-long feud with the postmaster’s wife over some quilting contest back in ‘64. The poor postmaster just shuts up shop early to keep the peace whenever she’s around.”

“Jesus…”

“And then there’s Old Man Miller. Nice fella, always has a good story to share, but he’s also the same guy who thinks it’s a bright idea to milk his cows at midnight to ‘beat the rush’ at the market in the morning.” You laughed, remembering the sight of Mr. Miller stumbling bleary-eyed into the bakery, smelling distinctly of barnyard. “And let me tell you, that man’s cheese tastes like the butt crack of dawn on a Monday morning itself.”

Leon chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds charming.”

“It is. Charming and... a little crazy, to be honest. But that’s the kind of place this is. We’ve all got our stories, and we’re all a bit touched in the head. Except me, of course. I’m the picture of sanity. Why, just yesterday, I had a completely normal, rational conversation with my sourdough starter as I fed it. It agreed wholeheartedly.”

“I see the resemblance,” Leon joked, his posture relaxing as he took over the task of adding eggs to the bowl, his fingers moving deftly and confidently. “Did the sourdough give you any tips for dealing with the townsfolk, or is that a trade secret?”

"Ah, wouldn't you like to know," you teased, laughing along. "But honestly, the best advice I can offer is to roll with the punches. This place will drive you nuts if you try to understand it. Just let the weird wash over you, and eventually, you'll feel at home."

Leon paused, considering your words. "That might take a while."

“Here's some secrets to keep up... There’s old Tom over at the smithy. He’ll fix your horseshoes for half price, but only if you promise not to bring up the time he accidentally set fire to the mayor’s porch.”

You glanced up to find his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges.

“And let’s not forget about the Reverend,” you continued, emboldened by the sight. “Bless his heart, but he’s been known to sample a little too much of the communion wine. You’ll know it’s happened when he starts quoting Shakespeare in his sermons.”

Leon nodded wisely. “Duly noted. Blackmail Tom, steer clear of the reverend during happy hour. Got any other wisdom to impart, town sage?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully, enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “Well, if you ever need a favor from the schoolmarm, remember that her favorite flowers are peonies. And whatever you do, do not play poker with the Doc. The man can cheat like no one's business, and no, he's not above using his medical degree to his advantage. Also, avoid the butcher on Tuesdays—he's extra cranky after haggling prices with the ranchers. Oh, and never, ever bet against the blacksmith in an arm-wrestling match. Trust me, I learned that the hard way. Poor Billy. That boy won't learn his lesson anytime soon."

"What about the town baker?" he asked, his tone light, a hint of curiosity in his question, his focus on the dough in front of him, his fingers kneading the mound of flour, butter, and sugar. "Any secrets worth knowing?"

You quirked a brow, a sly smile playing at the corners of your mouth at him taking the first step that he'd been circling for quite some time. What would he have done if you weren't good with signals? Nevermind, though, you liked this brand of shy men. "Well, now that you mention it, there is one thing..."

Leon paused, his hands buried in the dough, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt sleeves. He looked at you expectantly, a glint of intrigue in his otherwise impassive demeanor.

"The baker," you said in a hushed tone, leaning forward as if sharing a secret, "has a weakness for a handsome, helpful sheriff who knows his way around a bag of icing. Especially one who's willing to brave a snowstorm to deliver her supplies personally."

The blush that crept up Leon's neck was immediate, his cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink. You couldn't help but bite your lower lip, finding his flustered state absolutely adorable. His grip on the dough tightened momentarily, and he averted his eyes, his lashes fluttering as he tried to compose himself.

"Ah," he managed, his throat bobbing in a nervous gulp.

You nodded, the grin on your face growing wider. "Mhm. She would love it if on Christmas Eve, that certain sheriff stopped by the bakery to pick up her special order. Maybe even have a drink together. To thank him for all his help, of course. If he's not busy, that is."

Leon cleared his throat, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, his attention still fixed on the dough before him. "I... I'll be sure to check my schedule," he managed, a slight tremor in his deepened voice.

"Good," you replied, straightening up, satisfied with his response. "Now, enough chit-chat, Sheriff. Let's get these gingerbread men in the oven so they can rest and bake, and we can have more hot chocolate and relax in the meantime. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like a plan," Leon agreed, his shoulders relaxing somewhat, though his ears still burned a rosy red.

[lucabyte]

obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask

also your art is amazing

Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!

and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...

I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:

This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...

My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.

It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but. (at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)

The real core concept is: Occam's razor. It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that. (I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)

And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.

but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.

Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)

Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.

As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.

Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending) (Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)

This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way. (I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)

Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am." Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.

Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.

But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.

I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.

*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍

**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here! I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....

Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.

And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.

Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?

I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.

[the-moon-files]

YESSSSS I BEG GET INTO THE CULTURAL DIDFERENCES BETWEEN HYLIANS AND HUMANS 🙏🙏

...now ur just sweet talking me 🥰 /lh

Not years, well maybe 1 year-

but i have wanted to ramble desperately to smone, even the tumblr void if i had to, abt humans vs. hylians so much, esp with a guide reader or male reader bc whatdya know im into niche stuff that only u and like 2 other ppl like lmao ¯\(ツ)/¯

Anyway im so shocked, since ur like the third person to be interested in this and wanna hear abt it 🥺 🤲💌 here u go!! Hope u like it <333 👉👈

Sun: Masc!Reader (he/him)

Orbit: Humans are Not Hylians/Humans are Space Orcs AU, Headcanons-ish, long overall but each section is kinda short

Stars: Mostly worldbuilding! you've been warned, don't get mad me for not talking abt the boys too much✌️

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cursing, mentions of private area/joke in the clothing headcanons, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

just some quick headcanons bc tbh i haven't given it too much thought, and i feel like I've been able to somewhat get into it in other posts? or maybe im thinking of stuff i have in my drafts idk-

Imma make another list, so buckle up for the short ride lol

Courting periods/dating/marriage

individual/small groups society-based hylians v. large personal groups/large community society-based humans

simpler foods hylians v. complex food humans

clothing modesty/style/relationships with fashion

fighting styles/strategies

entertainment complexity/differences

and language

☆

1st one, not much yet, im also making a separate post bc someone else asked me to talk abt that more 🥺

(tysm for all the enthusiastic asks guys <33)

anyway, basically hylian courting is a lot shorter, think “lesbians with the uhaul” type of energy, like sort of the classical medieval “does thee wish to pursue marriage with this one?” ← how hylians ask u out for the first time lmao

if it helps, they do tend to get to know one another well, talking about morals/kids/life goals/preferred lifestyle/house/etc. pretty clearly and quickly, then using the in between time to sort of stew on that information

id say the total time is sort of something like 6 months? maybe 3/4 if they're really compatible

(so bc i love interpreting video game logic for real world building, I actually blame this on how fast Zelda/link get together in games despite having sometimes never met before that moment lol)

like i said, ill be posting about this later

2nd one!!

pretty basic, just saying we don't really see hylians in big groups, despite the organizations they form, like kingdoms/knights or on a more personal level, towns/families/etc.

(once again, in-game appearances/video game logic translated to real life to draw these conclusions)

like not only are family units pretty small, like nuclear family setup, with like 2 parents and 2 kids, or single parent 1 kid type of situation, but the towns or collections of these families arent very big either

hylians kind of use their government the way it was intended lmao?

like the villages and towns matter more for everyday decisions than the kingdom/royalty, like Zelda would esstientally just be the mayor of Castle Town for those constant decisions,

while occasionally is called on to make decisions like for several towns or like is a natural disaster happens

meanwhile humans are, in comparison, in Way Bigger groups, both on an organization scale, and a personal scale

like u have all these specific branches of government, whereas im sure the population difference doesn't help,

and on a personal level, humans can easily have like multiple parents, lots of siblings, and once u combine that with each parent having family too, and those families like to meet up? All together??

yeah, itd look insane to any hylians (who’s smaller extended family may just make up their own village and that's it)

3. I've touched on this

like the use of spices, syrups, seasonings, etc

but also the complexity of dishes too, like chilling cream and mixing it for awhile to make ice cream, or even just getting ordering a pizza,

that's a lot of processing, like making the dough from flour and other ingredients, to letting it rise, to making the tomato paste, making cheese, then combining those things with any other toppings, all into one dish??

i like to think that hylians have only just started to touch on actual complicated cooking processes (as in BOTW, where they sell flour and salt, so people besides Link/Wild must know what to do with it)

this has the advantage of impressing any hylian with what a “creative genius” you are lol

4. look im just a fan of medieval time periods Links

so i think its funny if the hylians are used to like 4/3 layers and ur over here like, “wym, if i take off my shirt there's nothing underneath?”

one of them gets bold enough to ask, “d-do you not. do you not have undergarments??”

you “just my boxers? like just to cover my di-”

also this makes its easy to seduce people here? LMAO

clothes are def higher quality, after all there's not as many artificial processes or materials interfering,

plus u usually get some sick embroidery on it too!!

5. so like i get it, Link is the main fighter in games

but like, the few times there is a war/army in loz games, there's rlly not a lot of strategy, beyond just finding the enemy and fighting

tho im partial to that hylians/most inhabitants of Hyrule abide by the “lets meet up either literally by inviting each other or just between our territories to fight”

with occasional guerilla warfare (by any means necessary/stealth/ambush attacks/strategy) that's only rlly used either by Demise/Ganon, or by the wilder individuals/races in games

or maybe even the more civilized fighters in an emergency

and so that means by this logic that all of the Chain use kind of wild techniques compared to their race/kingdom lmao

id imagine its not too surprising to also see “every fight is a bar fight if its for my life” from individual travelers, so im sure they're not viewed too crazy (esp when ppl know their the hero that constantly has to deal with guerilla warfare from Ganon)

but its be hilarious to watch the reactions of both the Links realizing they’re in a bigger group that should be using “proper” fighting strategies and seeing the general publics reaction to this absolutely feral, armed to the teeth, trained hylians with their equally wild human lol

LMAO everyone thinks ur the reason they started using the more brutal fighting methods bc ur human, ur a bad influence lol

(humans would use it primarily, esp after we converted to use that method in warfare a couple hundred years ago i think?)

changing course a bit, hylians tend to use weapons (to compensate for difference in strength compared to humans, and since they don't experience/get a lesser version of adrenaline)

while humans tend to equally rely on weapons and our body as a weapon (marital arts/basic self-defense)

6. this is mostly bc the hylians only rlly seem to have the basics of music, books/stories, theater, and art

i have, surprise surprise, another post abt how i think this came to be,

mostly based on how human curiosity is indomitable and insatiable and the endless force that has not yet met its immovable object.

or at least an immovable object they haven't at least poked a little, out of curiosity lol

like we went to space for that reason, we reach the most dangerous corners of our planet (deep underwater/volcanoes) out of sheer curiousity/for the sake of simple knowledge of the thing

so needless to say, curiosity can absolutely drive any field to its limits, including the arts, which is why we can have stained glass, or movies/tv shows, hell, the marvel that is Hatsune Miku lmao

(fully for entertainment, a projection of light and sound, what is essentially magical illusions but u did it hte hard way, to the hylians)

on a different entertainment related note, i don't know if the hylians would be super into sports, or not really at all? mostly bc they have to use their fighting/training against real threats, not the sort of “fake” threats that sports are

but on the other hand i could see people like knights wanting to use their abilities for something other than violence and fighting bc their life or their villages lives depended on it

bet the Links would enjoy it for those reasons especially, what with at least sumo wrestling being a sport or activity for them at some point in history, and practically beg u for any new games to play, or to ref their games, bc whewwww

im sure they could get pretty competitive lol

7. obviously, their mostly influenced by the Japanese language

id almost like to imagine a sort of, if not outright Japanese (like with earlier heroes like Sky) then a sort of English-Japanese hybrid further along the line

sort of like how English has German/Greek/Latin roots and therefore u can see what words or structure comes from where, or even how u can understand a fair amount of basic words when other languages share the same roots (english, pants = spanish, pantalones)

would make for some funny miscommunications

or even better, most hylians liking ur unique accent or the Links love to hear u talk bc of it lol

☆

well the fever has broken, i am now free of the sickness that made me hack this up geez

i hope u got some enjoyment out of these my beloved anon!! esp since u were so nice as to ask abt it <33

hope u guys have a great weekend, look out for some more posts, bc its been great to get some more asks in lately and very motivating,

not to mention i actually have time to write now that my siblings graduated/we’ve moved several states over 💀

so i have reliable internet now too! sheesh :’)

Peace out,

🌙

[obae-me]

Omg Hi!!! It has been so long since I have seen you on my dash! How are you doing love? I hope you are doing super well ^.^ I recently saw your Mc with trauma post. I loved it so much, and it has also given me a lot to mull over the past few days lol.

Honestly I love the idea of a traumatized Mc and the brothers feeling like absolute shit for the way they treated them in the beginning... but yk another part of me wonders when I imagine my own traumas in that scenario... that for people (the bros- literal demons) who have faced so many things and traumas in their own lives, whether my feelings or pain is even comparable to that. Ik you can't compare things like that and the brothers would probably even be mad if I think of my feelings this way since it's the "Ohhhh someone always has it worse. It's not even that bad so just suck it up" self-deprecating part of me. Despite knowing ALL THAT I can't help but think that I am not traumatized enough to deserve empathy lmao (I realize how stupid it sounds saying it out loud).

So that is what REALLY got me thinking. What about an Mc that is genuinely terrified of scrutiny, being a nuisance and just basically inconveniencing anyone for things that are just basic needs. Idk if I am explaining it well enough oof and a mc like that (like me lmao) certainly won't bode well with Lucifer. Atleast not in the beginning. I could hate him (I could never but if I did) but still be terrified of disappointing him. This is what I mean when I say I love him but he reminds me too much of my father habits wise 🤢.

I am thinking a Mc who is afraid of asking even their basic needs at the beginning once Lucifer mumbled about them being too much trouble. Mc who feels so extremely guilty when the brothers get anything for them, cuz they feel like they have to work for it or they don't deserve it. Mc whose blood freezes over when they break something and try to replace it as quick as possible so no one blames them. Mc who never expresses their concerns so as to not add to the brothers' already full plates or worry them. It hurts to bottle it all up but seeing the brothers' concerned faces with so much PITY is a thousand times worse. Mc who never complains and adjusts to even unfair situations so as to not be a bother. Mc who just takes, takes and takes everything bad and doesn't say a word cuz they feel like they deserve it. Mc who tells little white lies to hide their flaws and be the perfect exchange student and avoid scoldings and criticisms ; only to stew in shame, disgust, self-loathing when someone eventually catches up on one of the lies (the person probably didn't even make a big deal of it/ was only mildly disappointed but Mc feels their heart breaking in two as they think they have broken their trust forever and would never be trusted again)

Gosh this got way longer than I was expecting >.< and a lot of signs like these aren't really obvious until you are close to that person. I think so many of us are so hard and rutheless to ourselves when sometimes the thing we need the most is a little compassion and understanding ;-;

Hi! I love seeing you in my inbox and thank you! I've been in recovery mode for the last few months but am finally coming back out of that cave and working on my hobbies again (seriously going too long without writing almost feels like going without food for me)! I hope you've been doing well too!

And oof, yes, I understand what you're saying completely. I'm like that too in a lot of ways, keeping certain details or complaints to myself because "Oh surely what I've been to is really nothing". And sometimes I let something slip and people get very concerned. Which is validating in a way, not that I need to be validated for it, everyone goes through their own pain and awful things SUCK no matter to what extent it is and I've had to learn that through my life.

(Wow that MC really is just me, huh? Calling me out are you? /j)

Honestly this type of MC is just canon to me. (I mean, the more pithy responses the MC has in original OM might just be due to writing but to me it just seems like the calm and general response of someone throwing out NPC answers as a survival tactic.)

They suck things up and soak up everything that's been said to them and work hard to remain a normal functioning being.

And of course Lucifer is an interesting character to think about with this MC because on one hand the human could absolutely despise him for the way he treats them. Or on the other hand (if you're like me I guess, which I realize is hella unhealthy, oops) the MC could look up to him and work extra hard to try to gain his validation, because getting praise from someone like that means you must not be a failure, right?

And just...the dynamic of that is so appealing to me, because Lucifer loves when people work hard and do what they're told, but then if he finally comes to the realization that they're burning out and actually almost putting themselves in more danger and harm because of HIM? And at the end of the day he's doing more damage than any of his chaotic brothers? (I like to have him spiral and be humbled just a bit)

Just all of the brothers doing some deep introspection once they come to care for MC and needing to sit down and realize that probably made their human feel so much worse and then spending the rest of eternity trying to fix that. And then the "I can fix him" mentality from MC turns into the "I can fix them" from every other character. A special Uno Reverse, if you will.

Oops, this turned into a fairly long ramble of my own...

Thanks for popping into my inbox with your thoughts! Traumatized MC deserves some extreme love

[k-s-morgan]

Who are your top 5 (or top 7) favorite (fictional) characters ever from any media? Why love them? Thanks ⭐

Hah, funnily, I can only call three characters my absolute favorite, and I write fics only about one of them.

It's probably because I have a very specific and narrow understanding of what a favorite is. I love many characters - everyone I write about is very dear to me. But favorite… it's someone I don't just love, it's someone deeply admire; someone I'm fascinated with outside of the ship and someone I could discuss endlessly.

For years, there was only one character in this list, Ciel Phantomhive from Black Butler. He's so young, but the amount of things he's managed to accomplish, even despite having help from his demon - it's impressive. He's so wonderfully contradictory. He's genuinely cold, he doesn't like people, he has a pretty low empathy level, and yet he takes his duties extremely seriously, and he's ready to risk his life and die for people he considers his family, even if he doesn't love them. He's so smart and so manipulative, so fearless, but with the splashes of such authentic vulnerability that he evokes admiration, fear, and sympathy in me.

I love how he plots, I love how much he enjoys the deranged games he and Sebastian play sometimes. How he's capable of regret, grief, and love, but how ruthlessly subdues these feelings in himself because he considers them a weakness. He's incredibly strong to go on like this after the trauma he experienced, and I find it captivating how he willingly stews in his bitterness and hatred to fuel his need for revenge. Ciel is a study of contradictions, and I love him to bits.

Just a month ago, another character joined my list of favorites, and now he's sharing the first spot with Ciel. It's Wei Wuxian from Untamed & Mo Dao Zu Shi. I've fallen in love with him completely and irrevocably. He's truly the person born with a smile on his face. The amount of inner strength he possesses is amazing and very inspiring. Unfortunately, I don't come anywhere close to rivaling it, but he's my role model in this regard. I find him absolutely hilarious - his jokes and his antics never fail to make me laugh; the way he's so starved for love yet has so much love to give is adorable, tragic, and very fulfilling since he does find a person who cherishes him and worships the ground he walks on. He's so wholesome, I think he's my comfort character. It's been love from first sight.

A character I would place on the second place after Ciel and Wei Wuxian is Kang Yo Han from The Devil Judge. I love smart characters, and Kang Yo Han is the most believable in his smartness. He's not simply a character capable of predicting everyone's moves ten steps ahead - he's a human whose intellect allows him to do so realistically. Each of his decisions is understandable and accessible to us, mere mortals. It all makes sense, and it's absolutely brilliant.

His psychopathic tendencies are also fascinating. A girl fell in love with him, but she was a thief and tried to set him up, so he used her feelings to make her jump out of the window? Even years later, he's genuinely confused as to why this wasn't an acceptable thing to do. His selective empathy, obsessive nature, and his ability to actually enjoy every second of his revenge and bask in the afterglow are unique. I don't recall seeing characters who felt so fulfilled after taking revenge before.

[hellsite-yano]

Porky, I wanna know how you keep your head up high. I don't wanna share my sob story and general negativity, but it seems that I can get into really depressing spirals sometimes and then when I bring up concerns I have I get called a doomer. Aside from just not caring, how do you remain positive?

I've been stewing on this message for about a month cause I received it at a particularly low point. I know you said you don't wanna share your sob story so I hope you don't mind if I share a bit of mine.

Basically the landlord decided to sell the place I've been living in with my fiance for about 7 years. This was obviously devastating, especially for my fiancee who had to put 70% of her things into storage. After some initial friction between me and my family who were happy to have me back except my kinda neurotic brother, we're staying in their (very small) spare room.

The other issue is that my mum's bed-bound, which is fine, but she needs constant care so the flat is basically a revolving door of carers and district nurses and constantly seeing (and having to constantly let in) strangers is pretty awkward and tiring. I understand this is nobody's fault though, it's just a huge difference to the quiet home life I'm used to. Doesn't help that the building's next to a main road as well.

My auntie also pops in from time to time and while I'm grateful for everything she's done for my mum (basically uplifting her whole life for the past 5 years to constantly make trips to her) and me (buying us furniture and such when we were moving in), she very clearly has undiagnosed ADHD/OCD which, I gotta be real, makes her extremely difficult to be around. It's just one of those families where every little thing has to be a massive drama and it's tiring. The mum and auntie are also jehovah's witnesses but this comes up less often than you'd think, though it's still a point of contention sometimes.

As for how I remain positive, I've been thinking about this question a lot recently. I suppose I try to count the remaining positives. I'm not homeless, I'm still with my fiancee and cat, and I've finally got a decent full time job with a lot of good perks. I'll also be saving a ton of money because I'm paying a fraction of my previous rent (ideally I'd like to save for a deposit).

Another thing that helps is just setting attainable goals. Right now for me it's to hold down this job and endure the housing situation for the time being. I've got a pretty big tax bill coming up in the new year (long story) that I need to save for which is why I opted for my family instead of just renting again. That and renting prices are fucking atrocious right now and you could lose it at any time.

Anyway, that's the situation as it stands. I'm still in the middle of unpacking what little we could bring and the move was particularly stressful, which is why I haven't posted much over the last few days. Times are bad and I've cried a lot but I believe things will get better because I'm working towards it.

[rescue-ram]

Why The Joker Is Wild Hits Different

I was thinking about this last month when I wrote 'The Time Has Come For Us To Say Sayonara', and I'm feeling motivated to write up my thoughts tonight. I'm going to list my reasons why this episode in particular rubs people the wrong way roughly in order of importance.

1) Timing This is the most obvious reason but it bears mentioning. Because yeah, the episode where Hawkeye's friends team up to drive him crazy in the same season that ends with Hawkeye having a serious Mental Health Crisis definitely changes the impression this episode leaves, especially in rewatches. I've seen theories that it was intentional foreshadowing, as well as that it was meant to be a lighthearted throwback episode that's just squiffy in execution; both seem plausible. But regardless, I think the timing increases negative feelings towards this episode among people for whom it doesn't land.

2) The Pranks Are Lame This might seem petty or subjective, but the more I thought about it the more important it seemed. Because MASH has a lot of pranks, and the ones people remember and like the most are the most outrageous ones- there are a lot of creative set ups, and some opportunities for great prop or physical comedy. But the pranks in TJIW all happen off screen, for punchline reasons, and with the possible exception of Klinger blowing himself up are all very tame and unremarkable. The "victims" reactions are not particularly hilarious either. This means there's little entertainment value in the pranks themselves, so all of the focus stays on Hawkeye's reactions, and his reactions are "increasingly irrational intense distress" which obviously some people will find very difficult or upsetting to watch.

3) No Back And Forth Other "prank war" episodes are just that- a war. There's retaliation and escalation and often a final twist to the conflict that keeps the action moving. Hawkeye never gets to retaliate or take the upper hand until the very very end of the episode- he's not even really fighting for it. He's consistently put in a reactive and vulnerable position throughout the episode, so it feels targeted in a way that's usually reserved for characters we're meant to dislike and not empathize with- but Hawkeye is our charismatic protagonist, we're constantly invited to empathize with him! So seeing him get picked on and not fight back kind of sucks for a lot of people, especially if, in putting yourself in his shoes, you would find this an insanely upsetting scenario to find yourself in.

4) No A-Plot Other "prank war" episodes are usually paired with a much more serious dramatic story line. Even "April Fools", one of the silliest, has the characters seriously thinking they're all about to be court-martialed. "An Eye for a Tooth" has Mulcahy fighting for a promotion, "Bottoms Up" has Margaret reckoning with her friend's alcoholism- even "The Smell of Music", which has one of the meanest things they do to Charles, has an A-Plot where Potter tries to help a suicidal soldier. The pranks are a welcome break in tension, and the more serious subject matter means they don't get as closely analyzed by the audience- they are straight up comedic relief. But in TJIW, there is no other plot- our focus stays, relentlessly, on Hawkeye losing it. There's no break from the tension, and as already established the weak pranks mean they don't provide that release in themselves. It is very easy to get stuck stewing in Hawkeye's distress.

5) Bad Casus Belli I really think, if Hawkeye had been the one to issue the bet- "Yeah, I said your prank was stupid and I'll say it again, Trap and I coulda pranked all of you in 24 hours or less and you'd've never seen it coming"- that A LOT of this episode's problems would decrease. His come-uppance would at least feel earned- Hawkeye has hubris, gets punished, punchline. But that isn't what happens!! BJ is exhausted and in a bad mood. He takes it out on Hawkeye in a petty destructive prank. Hawkeye is annoyed, and BJ gets mad at him for being annoyed, and then cold bloodedly manipulates him into a bet he fully intends to cheat, in order to punish him for... not finding having his boot ruined funny? For talking about Trapper? There's no explanation given for why the other characters go along with it, especially a character like Mulcahy who not only participates, but is gleeful about it to an extent that's kinda OOC. Hawkeye's punishment feels more like the sort of thing dealt out to Frank, who we expected to deserve it because he was so consistently awful. Why does Hawkeye, our loveable hardworking part-time prankster full-time doctor, deserve to get humiliated? It's charitable to say it's a lack of inciting incident causing problems- to be uncharitable, we'd have to say the inciting incident is BJ taking out his temper on Hawkeye in an honestly pretty cruel way. I say cruel especially given his reaction to seeing Hawkeye lose it in the ward was to make it worse by deliberately feeding Hawkeye's paranoia after Klinger's prank. If you are not a fan which finds BJ's fits of "evil genius" funny in themselves then yeah, the unearned targeting feels infuriating.

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Bunch Family

New Hope

While the children are at school, the parents take care of the household. Minka the cat doesn't really have to do with that. She enjoys the warmth in the house and occasionally makes sure that her humans clean up after her.

After Jack had finished a few jobs around the house, he sat down at his laptop. But he didn't switch it on straight away. Because every time he did and checked his email, there was nothing there to help him. He would have liked to close the screen again, but a gut feeling led him not to do so this time.

Jack worked with the PC almost as if in a trance. It was the same routine as every day. He took a quick look at what was happening in the other cities and then went to his e-mail inbox. And today, once again, there were lots of fake emails and supposed competitions promising the blue sky. But in the midst of all these unnecessary emails, there was one from a familiar sender. Subject: “Is this true?”.

“Ju-Judy…"/ ‘What, are they trying to sell us a car again or give us some weight loss tips?’/ ‘No… Erin, she… she answered me…’. It almost hit Judy like a blow, she couldn't breathe or speak for a moment. She almost forgot about the food in the oven until she came back to her senses… “And… And what did she write?”.

“She writes… 'oh my God, Jack! I have to apologize for only being able to reply now. I've was macht on assignment with my team for a few months. What's more, your email didn't end up in my regular inbox, but in the spam folder, which I've coldly ignored until now.” Judy was too distracted by this message and took the precaution of getting the food out of the oven to continue cooking it later. “Unbelievable… read on…”.

“'Never in my life would I have thought that I would get a sign of life from you. Of course, I'm all the more pleased to hear that you and your family are doing well. I swear to you, I didn't know there were any survivors. Some things have been kept under wraps and are only now gradually coming to light. Judy listened spellbound.

“'I've only been back from my mission for two days and my team is pretty worn out. I'd like to give them a few more days to catch their breath, but then we'll be on our way to you straight away. Can you hold out that long? What about food? What else do you need? Please let me know'… Wow, she's got a team.” Jack was filled with joy and excitement

A huge knot that had been stuck in Judy's soul for what felt like an eternity loosened. “We're finally getting help. And she didn't even know anything?"/ ”Apparently not. I think we'll get an explanation for everything. Hhh, my God, in the spam folder… Is my email address that dubious?”. Judy's emotions fluctuated between crying, laughing and being relieved.

And Jack couldn't hold back his joy either. “haha, hey, don't cry, honey, they're going to help us."/ ”and sob how? Theyll have trouble getting here in a jeep…”. Jack couldn't help but grin mischievously “ooh, they have ways and means, believe me. Should I tell the others or let them stew a little longer?”. She saw a twinkle in his eye that she hadn't seen for a long time. But she just put her hands in front of her face, shook her head and cried the pressure of the last few months off her chest.

The news from Erin stoked the long-awaited hope you had all along. An emotional moment where you think you're alone. You hadn't even heard the front door… “Why… Why is mom crying?”/ “Arlo? You're home already?"/ ‘Yeah, today was just playing and talking, I didn't want to join in anymore’. For a brief moment, Jack and his wife didn't know whether to be angry with him or just laugh about it. They opted for the second.

“And don't worry, your mother is fine. She… she's just happy because we got good news"/ ‘good news, yes… and… what kind of news?’/ ‘we'll talk about that when your siblings are home’.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

@greenplumbboblover ⭐

Poses by @poses-by-bee , miss adrienne & jellyfish (cry baby)

[yuurivoice]

how are you doing lately yuuri? (everyones been asking about content so i just wanted to ask something that wasnt related to it. obviously no ill will towards them ❤❤)

I'm pretty great actually!

My 2024 didn't really kick off until the middle of March tbh, but now that I'm really rolling I'm feeling good about things.

Creatively I'm charged up and full of ideas. Every time I go to the well, my cup is full. That's the best case scenario for any artist, so I'm very happy. The bigger projects will take time but I am actively chipping away at them rather than letting them stew in my brain.

Am still head over heels for Aerith after playing FFVII Rebirth, and put some solid hours into Dragon's Dogma 2, so I've been a real gamer boy so far in 2024 lol

Cats good. House good. Life good.

Nothing really new going on. Had an appointment to get my passport, that was cool and my picture turned out pretty decent so I'm not mad at that.

I'll be seeing Nothing More and Hozier in concert this month, and Motionless in White next month. Excited about that for sure.

Life is definitely very content-centric right now but it doesn't feel like work and things are going well in terms of numbers. It's an ebb and flow usually but when both of those align it feels particularly rewarding!

I've streamlined and refined some of my processes when it comes to scripts, planning, etc. and that feels good after years of just sorta vomiting on the page and hoping everyone involved can figure it out lol

Had some really wonderful portfolio submissions when I called for them on Patreon! I have many people I need to reach out to and I feel really optimistic about some of the writers that reached out. Having some wonderful scripts to use when I need to get ahead of schedule and focus my own writing on the narrative projects is really going to take some pressure off of me. Script submissions have been helpful sometimes, but now that I have a bit more brain capacity I can take extra steps to really get hands on and work with select writers 1:1. Script submissions will still be a thing, and if you haven't submitted your portfolio and think you've got the sauce...go hit my business email!

In terms of art I just need to expand options when it comes to merch, one off thumbnails, etc. to help with the flow of things. With multiple major series coming, I'd like to be able to keep Jackie on those and not have to interrupt the flow by throwing a new thing at her every other week and end up messing with the schedule because I can't stop having ideas lol

So! A lot of great stuff going on. I'm feeling great and am looking forward to smashing the rest of this year!

[sophieinwonderland]

The Plurality of... Diones (Skyward)

Art by bdonoho

Major spoilers for Starsight (Skyward Book 2)

The Skyward series is a young adult space opera in the style of Top Gun with a bit of eldritch horror and superpowers mixed in. Book 2 introduces a new alien race known as the Diones with one of the most fascinating reproductive processes I've heard in fiction.

Diones are a species that reproduce by melding together. They don't have male or female genders, but instead have changing colors. They also exclusively use they/them pronouns. When they decide to have a child, a red and blue Dione combine into a Draft.

Whenever a Draft is created, it gains a personality. A mixture of both of its parents in a random way, but also something new. Drafts are split down the middle, with a red half from one parent and a blue half from the other. Rather than referring to a mom or dad, as they don't have gender, they refer to their parents as "rightparent" and "leftparent." (I don't know if Diones continue to do this after they're born, or if those terms are just used by the Drafts. The other Diones in Starsight don't talk about their parents.)

If the parents or extended family don't like that particular Draft, they'll be redrafted. If they do, they give birth to them as a new child that will carry memories from its time as a Draft.

This is a point of conflict in the story as one Dione Draft, Morriumur, feels compelled to prove themselves to their family to show that they deserve to be born as a separate person.

Even though the Draft is a new personality, the parents still exist in their head too, watching, as explained by Morriumur when asked if they could feel their parents.

“Kind of,” Morriumur said. “It is difficult to describe. I’m made up of them. In the end, they will decide whether to give birth, or whether to pupate and try again. So they’re watching, and they’re conscious—but at the same time they are not. Because I am using their brains to think, as I am using their melded bodies to move.”

Art by Jillustrations

One of the later interludes in the book is written from Morriumur's perspective and describes an even more plural experience.

Being two people was an uncomfortable experience for Morriumur. On the left, one could argue that Morriumur had never known anything different. On the right, one could point out that one’s separate halves—and the memories they had inherited—knew precisely how odd the experience was. Two minds thinking together, but blending memories and experiences from the past. Only some from each parent, a stew of personality and memory. Occasionally their instincts fought against one another. Earlier in the day, Morriumur had reached to scratch their head—but both hands had tried to do it at once. And before that, at the sound of a loud bang—just a dish being dropped—Morriumur had tried to both dodge for cover and jump up to help at the same time.

Both parents are still there. The instincts of both influence Morriumur.

At this point in the book, Morriumur is about to be undergo the redrafting process themselves.

Morriumur asks at one point what will happen when redrafted.

“When I come back out, will I remember these months?” “Faintly,” Numiga said. “Like fragments of a dream.”

The description of remembering it faintly like fragments of a dream feels very dissociative to me. A personality was created and existed for these months. Then it's replaced by a new one that will only faintly remember the past few months, likely as if those months happened to somebody else.

Morriumur also hears internal communication they believe is from their parents, although they're unsure which is which.

You’d have been too frightened to fight a delver anyway, a part of them—perhaps one of their parents—thought. Too aggressive for dione society. Too paranoid to fight. Redrafting is for the best. For the best, another part of them thought.

The fact that Morriumur doesn't know is actually one of the more interesting aspects of plurality that isn't often covered in fiction. The frequent blendiness and just not knowing if a voice in your head is from you or someone else, and not knowing who it came from.

Massive Spoilers Ahead. If you haven't read Starsight but plan to later... you shouldn't have read this far, but seriously... stop reading here...

Into The Delver

Art by u/MagicalSpaceWizard

In the Skyward books, there are planet-destroying monsters called Delvers. The Delvers appear as indescribable dark masses the size of moons that cause hallucinations in any who fly into them.

This is how Morriumur reacted to a Delver appearing overhead in the sky:

It’s a delver! one mind trembled. Run! Flee! the other mind screamed. Around Morriumur, relatives scrambled away, running—though how did you run from something like this? Within moments, only Morriumur was standing there before the building, alone. Their minds continued to panic, but Morriumur didn’t let go, and slowly their minds relaxed and knit back together.

While the parents' minds are screaming to run away, Morriumur stands firm.

After this, Morriumur flies up to fight the Delver.

When training to fight Delvers, pilots were always instructed to bring a wingmate to help them differentiate between reality and the hallucinations. You would need two people since the hallucinations wouldn't be the same for each.

But Morriumur's unique circumstances made Morriumur immune to this.

“Two people…,” I whispered, holding my head. “You need—” “That’s the thing, Alanik,” Morriumur said. “I am two people.”

In the end, Morriumur's plurality made them perfect for combating the Delver. All Morriumur saw was overlaying shadowy images.

Morality Of Drafting

I love Morriumur's plurality in this book, and how it was depicted as such a positive thing in the climax of the story, despite seeming so alien to the main character.

Having said that, Dione society and how they treat Drafts bothers me. At one point, the characters have this exchange:

“But if they decide to try again, instead of having you, it’s kind of the same thing as you dying.” “No, not really,” Morriumur said, cocking their head. “And even if it were, I can’t really be killed—I’m a hypothetical personality, not a final one.”

The book doesn't really tell you whose perspective is right. To Morriumur, this is normal. Later, when about to be redrafted though, Morriumur is scared and doesn't want to go.

As far as I'm concerned, Morriumur is a person. That time they exist isn't just a hypothetical personality but a real one, and Morriumur being redrafted feels like the equivalent of a death.

But this itself is a debate within the plural and tulpamancy communities, if dissipating or getting rid of a headmate/tulpa/alter/personality is really the same as an actual death. What about accidental permanent dormancy? What about fusion? What about de-fusion? What a death is when it comes to plurality is complicated.

And ultimately, I like that the book didn't try to answer this type of question. We have the main character's human perspective. We have Morriumur's Dione perspective, and the perspectives of their family and culture.

But it doesn't feel like we're told what is right. The morality of their culture's practices are messy and complicated, and the book doesn't try to convince you who's right or who's wrong. It just presents them as two different conflicting perspectives.

Conclusion

The Skyward series is fantastic, as is its handling of this unique form of plurality that, while alien, is also deeply relatable to us as a system.

While the morality of Drafting is complicated, the plurality itself is treated as positive thing that was ultimately integral to the book's plot.

It was nice for the book to give us an interlude in Morriumur's head to really get a feel for their internal experiences. The book was written in 1st person in the main chapters, and this was the only alien whose perspective we ever get to see so directly. (There were other interludes but those focused on other human characters.)

So I'm really grateful Morriumur's interlude was included, and more generally, just absolutely love their character.

[abubblingcandle]

Well done on compiling the spreadsheet! I've been thinking of doing something similar to keep track of my wips for ages but I've yet to sit down and actually do it, it's a lot of work!

How about number 42?

It is but I was laid in bed last night and was like stewing on one of the ideas and thought ... "I've never actually written down anything about this idea, oops" and so did this today!

@thirteenemeraldcats also asked for 42 but also another one so I'll do 42 here and the other in reply to that ask :)

42 - The 16 year old Jamie fic

So this fic is inspired by what I learnt a few months ago about Archie Gray at Leeds United. Quick Archie summary but he is a 17 year old Leeds wonderkid from a family of Leeds United players (his grandad, his great uncle, his dad all played for Leeds for the majority of their careers and his younger brother is in the youth set up). He's made it into the starting line up this year and he pointed it out in a post match interview that according the FA and Leeds rules ... he has his own private changing room because it is a safeguarding risk to have a minor changing and showering with adults.

This just got me thinking about what if Jamie hadn't been 23 when he was loaned to Richmond, what if he had been 16? This wonderkid who Man City don't really know what to do with coming straight into the Richmond starting line up and desperate to prove himself to everyone including his idol Roy Kent. His dad moving down to London with him. Not really being included in the team and team bonding as they just go out drinking.

Then Ted arrives and Jamie's never had a coach like Ted. He doesn't know what to do with it

Roy huffs as he watches Jamie bat away the hand Colin was offering to help him up off the floor. The kid's blue grey eyes were misting over with tears of frustration but his lips were pressed together in a mask of fury directed at the grass itself. Roy remembered being like that. He remembered being called up and touted as the best thing since sliced bread at an age where your main worries should be whose dating who and how you were going to survive your exams. But unlike Jamie, Roy wasn't a champion asshole about it. He took the hits, he paid his dues with only the token bullshit expected from an up and coming star. Then other younger models came through the ranks, Roy made his big career move and all that strife was history. It had seemed like the worst thing ever at the time. Now it was just remembered as a stepping stone. "Get the fuck up Tartt, your fault. Get over it," Roy growled, kicking the ball away from Jamie's feet and pinging it back over to O'Brien for the goal kick. The death stare from the young striker would have unnerved a lesser man. Roy glared back until Jamie flinched first and rolled to his feet.

[fireemblems24]

Golden Wildfire Ch 14

Almost done guys. I can stick with it.

STORY

Oh no, The Empire is in danger. Anyways . . .

They're all shocked Edelgard is asking for help because she's putting her in debt to them.

Haha, they're considering just leaving her there and letting the Empire die. Lorenz came up with it. Based.

I know Claude will go bail her out, which is really stupid for a guy who claims he wants to end the war.

So . . . how does killing Rhea and sparing Edelgard cause the least amount of bloodshed? I knew that's what was going to happen, but it makes no sense. Claude even admitted he knows that Edelgard doesn't give a shit, she wants to conquer Rhea or no Rhea.

I really fail to see how on earth this is ending in 2 chapters. Unless Edelgard is so grateful to Claude she just gives up her ambitions? And Dimitri is equally OOC also suddenly gives a shit about what Claude thinks??

I've actually LOVED how they're written Edelgard and Dimitri in Hopes so far, and if GW ruins that with its shit writing I'm gonna be pissed.

Edelgard better not turn into some soft sissy who is all "oh, you saved me, Claude, now I'm going to play nice and make big eyes at you! Now that Rhea's dead and you did something nice, I'm going to give up the most core part of my character." Double gross if it's implied that she's flustered by his good looks.

And Dimitri better not not be pissed off that Claude invaded him for no reason and be like "You were so right, I wanted Rhea gone this whole time, thank you for saving me from her, please ignore Sylvain stewing in the corner, he'll just get over that you murdered his dad, just like I suddenly don't care how you murdered my citizens!"

If that happens, I'm calling this Claude's bizarre fanfic where he thinks his masterminded Edelgard and Dimitri so hard that now they're both hard for him no matter how OOC that makes them or how stupid Claude's been this whole time.

CAMP/SIDE MAPS

Haha, Shamir doesn't want to help the Empire. She wants revenge against them for the war with Dagda lol.

I don't think Holst has had an interesting thing to say in this entire game.

Oh yeah, I forgot. In GW and SB we're saving Bernie's father and helping him maintain religious power. Only in AG is he the enemy we're replacing. I swear, did nobody look at this and wonder if they made the Blue Lions unambiguously the only good guys?

Haha, right after I wrote this, some NPC was like wtf are we doing putting an Imperial noble in charge of the Monastery and religion?

Meanwhile, Lorenz is like, if we just let Edelgard die, the war ends right. But they must go save her because they're former classmates! For, like, a month! And Claude's like, Dimitri is too. And then crickets. I swear to God GW is borderline self-aware of how reaching and desperate the writing is to have Claude want to join the "I want to suck Edelgard's toes" gang for no logical reason.

Ouch, someone just compared Claude to Hubert. Like, I love Hubert, but he is NOT someone I want to be compared to.

I forget how boring GW is to play. Lorenz takes no damage from anything, so I just mash buttons. He isn't particularly strong either, so he's not nearly as fun to play as Dimitri and Hubert are with their ridiculous strength and magic stats, respectively.

So if I ever replay GW (lol, sure /s), I would def not pick Lorenz again. Lysithea seems like a way more fun character more suited for my play style but she's too far behind with class unlocks and etc . . .

Haha, Shez is like "if I ended up on another side, they would've been suspicious of my powers and thought I was an enemy" - side-eyeing Edelgard and SB.

Lamo, where did Claude get the idea that the church doesn't like people from other places or that aren't religious? Last time I checked, they didn't care?

Lamo, Shez is saying she might just leave Claude when the war ends. Same, Shez, same.

I had to fight Gustave :( And after that Sylvain :(

Guys, I'm feeding Claude recipes he dislikes. I've run out of supports to grind this round so . . .

I did the same to Holst too, because fuck you too, Holst

I'm giving my merc whistle to Lorenz. He basically did everything this route. And ohhhhh, he's right in front of Claude and Hilda too, haha. That means they're going to watch me give Lorenz a present and none for them.

And now to dump every stat boost on Lorenz too. I literally use no one else unless I absolutely have too. Hubert and Dimitri will get the same treatment. Probably also the 2 getting my merc whistle too. Which is hilarious since Hubert is pretty openly hostile to Shez.

SHEZ & CLAUDE A

It's funny. In SB, no one trusts Shez. In GW, Shez doesn't trust Claude. In AG, Shez . . . yep.

Wait, whut? Shez is like "we need to end the church to end the war." And Claude is like "right, because they they can try something again." My brother in Sothis, what the fuck? Did he just forget that Edelgard started the war? Rhea didn't do shit.

Also, didn't Claude say earlier he knows the church is just an excuse for Edelgard to make a land grab? Did he magically forget that?

SHEZ & BALTHUS B

Don't remember if I saw this yet.

Balthus wants to make a bet on battle. Shez doesn't want to.

Balthus likes to live on the edge and adding a bet makes battle more fun. Shez disagrees.

SHEZ & HAPI B

Still don't remember if I saw this or not. But it's another support about Shez's mysterious origins that go absolutely no where.

And I have a strong suspicion that we won't actually learn anything about who Shez really is unless her mom is like Arundel or something.

I think I may have seen this before. But Shez has more than one support like this so . . .

CLAUDE & MARIANNE A

Weird. They only have 1 support and its A.

Marianne gets a letter that implies that he wants Marianne to rule House Edmund and she's intimidated by it.

Claude shares that he worries too.

Claude says Marianne needs more resolve.

Sorry, that was boring as fuck.

CLAUDE & LYSITHEA A

Lysithea has a message from her father, who's taken maybe the worst beating in this game.

Her father doesn't want to complain, but to thank him for ending TWSITD chaos.

Poor House Ordelia really does get the shit end of the stick.

Claude is worry that Lysithea works too hard.

Lysithea doesn't really listen.

CLAUDE & LEONIE B

Their only support.

The crops of the territories that are at war are suffering because armies are trampling fields.

Common people are mad at Claude because of the battle making them starve.

Glad this game is acknowledging, even a little, how it's poor people who get screwed over the most when nobles bicker.

Leonie admits she could care less about this war. Which just make her not being in AG (so far) weirder. Since she's probably one of the one who cares the least.

This is more interesting than I thought it was going to be, because it's about how the commoners suffer in war, and how Claude needs a common born perspective. So that makes Edelgard the only one who never asks common born people what they want - and the one thinking she has the right to decide everything for them.

CLAUDE & CONSTANCE C

Claude is interested in Constance's experiments

Constance invented a spell that can change hair color and style, which Claude wants to use to escape but not to be her first test subject

She gives him a hard and sharp style, like literally - he complains, she's not happy

I don't know if she turned it back or not, if she didn't I'm tempted to not view their B so Claude is stuck with silly, awful hair for his final chapters because then his looks will match his clown behavior

HILDA & IGNATZ B

Hilda doesn't recognize Ignatz without his glasses on. So . . . she's an idiot?

Ignatz is basically blind without glasses, yet forgot where he put them. So . . . he's an idiot too?

Hilda thinks he's hot without his glasses. I . . . question her taste.

IGNATZ & HAPI C

Hapi finds his sketch book and there's a picture of her with cats in there, and she's disturbed that someone drew her without telling her

She figured out that it's him

She's mad he lied, but liked the picture

And . . . the Chicago Carolina game is more entertaining than that was (who may be the 2 worst teams in the NFL, for those who don't know)

SHEZ & IGNATZ A

Aw, that's sweet of Ignatz. He's like, we talk too much about me, talk about you!

And Shez teases him about a crush, lamo.

Shez only has 2 dream options: I don't know or easy going mercenary life

Ignatz asks Shez to be a bodyguard ones he's done being a knight and going after his dreams

Shez says she'll charge a lot lamo

Claude & Constance B

Oh, right, the hair magic stuff.

Constance doesn't appreciate his lack of enthusiasm

She turned his hair frizzy and uneven, lamo - like a bird's nest, and honestly, deserved Claude, you've sucked this route

He has a beard too

LORENZ & IGNATZ A

Their only support, weird.

Lorenz didn't make much of Ignatz when they meant, but now is impressed.

The improvement it because Ignatz is painting in his free time, helping his mental health

Lorenz feels bad because he realizes Ignatz wants to be an artist, not a knight, like he assumed

Ingatz is still grateful towards Lorenz for giving him a purpose after the school closed and he felt directionless

RAPHAEL & MARIANNE B

Bummed they only have 1 support. I like their chain in Houses.

Marianne can't get a horse to the stable bc it's sick (the horse told her, Raphael doesn't seem to care that a horse talked to Marianne)

Raphael offers to get the horse to the stable by putting it in a cart

He lifted it, Marianne is impressed, but now her horse can get the medicine and rest needed

Dumb horse ate bad fruit, honestly, accurate, they're all secretly pigs in horse-shaped bodies

Raphael . . . also eats rotten food. So, I guess Dimitri has competition for who has the most iron stomach

See, this was cute too. Marianne just feels naturally open with him

RAPHAEL & LEONIE A

They're out of arrows and surrounded by wolves

I think Raphael beat them back with her bow

He credits her for making such a strong bow (it didn't break)

So now Leonie will keep making bows until there's one Raphael can't break, and Raphael will keep working on muscles so he can keep breaking them

MARIANNE & YURI B

Oh, God, Yuri's always so mean to people in the beginning of support chains. I wonder how on earth this is going to go . . .

Yuri takes her off guard and asks questions, which just makes her more guarded and feel judged.

Marianne assumes he hates animals and herself. Because she saw Yuri glaring at her once. Girl, you have issues, but I love you.

Understandably, Yuri's a bit confused.

Marianne keeps assuming things are her fault and apologizing, and Yuri keeps getting more and more annoyed until she runs off.

A lot of this support felt pretty random, but let's see where A goes.

MAIN BATTLE

This battle is titled . . . salvation. You know, that may be the most clever bit of writing in GW so far (as in the ONLY clever writing)

Haha, Edelgard is surrounded by the Kingdom and Rhea.

Even Holst is like, are you sure about this Claude?

I really don't understand the logic of rescuing Edelgard if Claud doesn't want war. Like, Claude acknowledged that Edelgard only used Rhea as an excuse for expansionism. He knows she's just going to find another excuse for war, so all he's doing is making her enemies weaker.

Ok, that's enough. I forget that applying any sort of logic to this plot line is pointless.

Cut scene is cool though. Lamo, is this like the 5th time Edelgard needed someone to rescue her in this game? She looked really pathetic in cut scenes in this game. Like, I don't even like her, and I'm annoyed because one of the things I did like was her being a bit of a badass, not always needing saving from Shez, Byleth, from assassins all the time, etc . . .

Guys, there's a save Monica side quest. Should I just . . . not? You know what? I'm going to have fun with this. I want to see what happens.

Fuck, Ingrid appeared :(

And now they want me to save Bernie's dad. This chapter is really "rescue the most fucking annoying characters" and "kill the best ones."

Thank FUCK, she retreated this time. I wouldn't been livid if they made me kill her twice for no reason.

OMG, again, lamo, Edelgard is useless this chapter. She keeps getting caught. That's the 3rd time in 1 chapter she's needed to get her ass saved by Claude and co.

Now I have to fight Dedue :( He's better not fucking die. This route isn't worth it. Edelgard called him Dimitri's most loyal retainer though.

Oh, thank God, he retreated.

Now I'm going to have to fight Dimitri, I'm sure :( I'm really fucking glad Lorenz can't take damage. I'd be shitting myself otherwise. He better retreat too.

Why can't we let Edelgard die, Claude? Wouldn't that fix all the problems?

Oh, Rhea! Fighting Rhea will actually be a little cool, since you never get to see her or use her.

Dimitri retreated at least.

WTF Claude? "I'm just determined to see what the world would look like without you." Idk, maybe Almyra??? The writers really gave Claude nothing with that line lamo.

Took Rhea out. She retreated too.

Now Byleth is here and I think she's dying for good this time. Feel a bit bad about not recruiting her. Claude doesn't deserve Byleth's support on this route, but she doesn't deserve to die either.

Cut scene time. I wonder what's considered more cannon, recruiting Byleth or not?

Also, isn't it thematic that you kill Sothis on routes where you oppose Rhea and side with Edelgard?

Arval's way too happy about this, lamo. Shez is bummed. Honestly, I think I ship Shez with Byleth the most.

Edelgard was so lame this chapter.

Claude tries rubbing it in Edelgard's face that she owes him, and she threatens not to honor the debt. Like, Claude, my boy, if this person is willing to turn on you because you teased her . . . that isn't an ally you want, but whatever.

Claude is like, can we not destroy Faergus. Edelgard's like, no.

"We never spared a thought for Dimitri's motivation." Uh, how about "stop killing my people you bloodthirsty idiots." Also, not surprised. These two really are idiots. They can't fathom why Dimitri's . . . defending himself.

Claude sounds so pathetic in this chapter. He's like, sooooo desperate to be like, remember I did you a favor, Edelgard, remember! Like she gives a single shit, lamo.

x

[aladaylessecondblog]

Red Mountain Waffle House, pt. 4 ("The Hand")

Sadara kept the corprus thing under wraps. She told Jiub--but no one else.

"Well if that doesn't suck shit I don't know what does," he said through the cigarette dangling from his lips, "You okay? Gonna need me to shank you before you go crazy? When did you get bitten, a couple days ago?"

"A few months, actually," she said, "That's the strange part, I haven't had any symptoms. Not a rash or a boil or anything."

There was a pause. He flicked the cigarette, opened the baggie before him, and set it on the table.

"You got the papers?"

"Do I have the papers..." Sadara scoffed. "With the week I've had I don't think I'll ever forget them again!"

She handed over the bag and Jiub set them out and started rolling their weed into joints.

"Makes me wonder why we ever decided to come here, y'know. We could be doing pretty good just killing cliffracers."

"Yeah, and sleeping outside and in all conditions...I don't want to do that again. Ever." Sadara sighed, and checked on the ash yam stew on the stove, giving it a few stirs before coming back. "Like it wasn't bad, and this time we were choosing to do it, but..."

"But you're sick of it and want a permanent roof over your head. Even if it's just this shithole."

"Exactly. See, you understand me so well."

It was a friendship that went back to when they were both young and hungry. Easier to be poor when you had someone to watch your back and help you out when you needed it. And though they'd parted a few times due to one thing or another, they usually ended up watching each other's back again. Sometimes people thought they were dating, and she'd asked him once, but Jiub didn't seem interested. Didn't like girls, but didn't seem to like guys, either...

He was always good to pretend he was her boyfriend to put off the creeps, though.

"Yeah, maybe I'm a bit tired of it too, I'll be honest...fighting and scraping and trying to heal up from all the fights with cliffracers...like...I can buy healing potions and all, but who's to say we don't get got by a pack of them at some point?"

"So we work at a restaurant where we only get shit from people on two legs."

It wasn't THAT bad, really. The corprus monsters left her alone now, and why that was she couldn't figure out. Maybe having it made them think of her as just another one of them?

There'd be time to debate over it. She'd just have to keep an eye on it, and pray it didn't get any worse than it already was.

-----------------

"Hey, hey, Greg, how ya doing?" Jiub waved as the imperial walked through the door. "So you finally decided to join us in civilization?"

"Something like that," Greg laughed. He was a fairly jovial sort, and the one with a fairly large house (how he owned it inside the Ghostfence was a mystery to everyone) and thus the guy who held all the best house parties. To be friendly with him was always a good idea, even if they weren't entirely sure if he wasn't Sanguine's avatar or something. "You two gonna be free in two weeks? Say, Saturday?"

"What's happening saturday?"

"What d'you think's happening? We'll have ale and sujamma, but if you can bring a little green that'll be appreciated."

"Can't get ahold of any?" Sadara took his order for a waffle and some eggs and stayed at his table as Jiub went to work cooking. "Or you just want some to mellow out?"

"A little of both, it's been harder to get and Jiub's always had a way with the stuff. Oughta grow your own...or maybe you do already, in which case keep up the good work."

Sadara handed him the coffee and plate once Jiub was done cooking. "He's got a green thumb. Me...me, mine's pure black, inside and out. Except for that plant on the windowsill. The local cult leader seems to think I'm Nerevar returned because he was like that too."

"Is that so? Well, that guy's a bit isolated...he'll turn up to a party now and then, but mainly to--"

The door bell jingled and in walked a pair of ordinators. One of them same as Sadara had tossed out before, and she immediately tensed on sight of him.

"At least there's none of those things in here tonight," the mer said, "You'd probably welcome them with open arms."

She didn't respond.

Greg paid and left shortly afterwards, saying he'd give them specifics on when to turn up later. Sadara went over to the ordinators' table.

"And what will the two of you be having?"

The first one was muted, tired, and asked just for some sausage and eggs. The angry one glared up at her, "A Temple-fearing waitress would be a good thing to have, but obviously we're both out of luck now, aren't we?"

"To eat, sir." Her tone was icy, and she could see the temper broiling beneath the man's severe expression.

"Coffee, and eggs."

She took the order and walked back to her place. Shortly after, Ulen entered, and the ordinators tensed up.

"Ulen, it's good to see you again," Sadara said, "The sky looks like it's been threatening to rain all day, does that mean you expect to see..."

"Ah, not today, most likely," Ulen replied. "He has much to handle at home. Something has livened him up and we are all happier for it."

His gaze such as it was, turned to hers.

"YOU again," the ordinator snarled from the corner. When his food was ready a moment later, he was still seething. "I don't care if his money spends well, suppose the ordinators stopped coming here because you're obviously in with the Dagoths?"

"I'm not in with ANYONE," Sadara replied, "It's economics. They spend more than you anyway, it wouldn't be much of a loss."

"How DARE--"

"Can we not right now?" his partner said, "We're off duty, they're not violent, it's not worth the fight."

"The duty never ceases."

A groan.

Ulen didn't acknowledge them, and spoke instead to Sadara. "Your arm, it is healed?"

"Yes. Where did you--oh, right. He must've told you. Please tell me he doesn't have me watched."

"He DOES want to be sure his Nerevar doesn't come to harm."

"HIS Nerevar?" Sadara gave a laugh, and then not wanting to appear rude quickly added, "I'm sorry, it's just a ridiculous idea to me. Me, who's never been to Morrowind before the ship brought me here, and he thinks I'm the incarnate of Nerevar--"

"He thinks you're WHAT?"

The last sentence, spoken perhaps a bit too loud, had caught the ordinator's attention. He stood up so quickly his plate was turned over and clattered to the floor.

"The SHARMAT thinks you're Nerevar," the ordinator charged forward and grabbed her by the collar, "Now you've reached the point of outright heresy and that I CANNOT ignore."

"Get the fuck off me, you creep!" Sadara moved and kneed him in the crotch.

The ordinator let go, but slapped her with his right hand a moment later. "The Temple will know. And the Temple will do to you what they do to ALL those who think to call themselves Nerevarine!"

Sadara decked him then, and dragged him outside, hearing only a faint, "I tell him not to do this shit" from the ordinator's partner, who kept calmly drinking his coffee.

"I'm not Nerevar, but I'll damn sure kick your ass like I was!" She ducked a fireball from the ordinator and gave him another hit on the jaw. The fight that followed was confusing - she would recall afterwards getting cut by his blade, getting knocked in the head, sitting on his chest and punching his face bloody, but nothing more than that. What she did remember was going back inside to clean up.

Ulen came forward to heal the cut, and she thanked him. Gladly, the ordinator's partner left soon after, saying "he just gets like this" and both of them did not return to cause more trouble.

----------------------------------

A few days later, Sadara's black eye had come in in full bloom, and she had to get a pair of shades to cover it up. The mail tracking app said the package was due to be delivered today, and she went out to the mailbox to check.

Except there wasn't one package, there was two. One was definitely the sunglasses marked "Tiber Mart", but the other was wrapped in postal paper, tied with twine, and marked only with "A Gift" in the most cursive, flourished, show-offy handwriting possible.

She brought them both inside, and after checking that the sunglasses covered up her black eye well enough she looked to the other box. A Gift. What in the hells?

Sadara pulled the end of the twine and tore off the paper. The box was neat and expensive looking, but the scent was horrendous, and for a minute she considered tossing it out. The ordinators might've sent her a stinkbomb, or something poisonous, maybe...

Against her better judgement she opened the lid.

And screamed.

There, within the box, was the bloody, rotten, bonemold gauntleted hand of an ordinator.

[cosmic-cd]

vague non-urgent/non-severe medical talk under the cut, deleting later- don't worry about this, i'll be fine

i wish i wasn't chronically ill with no real way of treating it. i had a really shitty doctor's appointment earlier today, and while i shouldn't let it get to me, having someone who doesn't know me be rude, then repeat over and over there's nothing they can do for me and rub it in how i have no treatment options while repeatedly telling me i need to lower my inflammation markers (and then add on, again, all they're doing is monitoring me so there's nothing they can do for me)

and then, at the end, say 'okay, see you in 4 months' see me in 4 months again to tell me there's nothing they can do for me and tell me i need to fix a problem i have no means to fix? otherwise i'm healthy, i have no major issues that concern them, but they still want me to come in multiple times a year for blood draws. and then are rude to me, don't look at the records i bring them, and say the same thing over and over.

this shit sucks. this sucks. it sucks. i'm obviously not going to that doctor anymore from now on, they've been varying levels of curt and rude every time i've gone but

this was just a very bad time for this kind of thing to happen, when i'm already spiralling over everything and now i just get a big dose of feeling hopeless over getting any relief from my chronic pain, outside of ibuprofen and tylenol, which only works sometimes

i need to stop thinking about this so i stop spiralling over it. the reality is i'll manage and i need to see proper specialists who can think outside the box a little more, and seek more second opinions. it's not doing me any good to dwell on it. writing it out helps a little but i need to go find some kind of distraction.. otherwise i'm just sitting here crying over problems i can't solve and feeling miserable.

i'm just really really tired of being told what i already know and having to stew in how bad i already feel. only a few doctors have ever really been sympathetic on that front, but that's because i got them to read my full medical history first so they know what they're up against..

[velvetvexations]

Stalking, non-con, gore, drugging, raceplay, and cartoonish body horror anons under the cut!

if we're still doing kink asks: I have kind of a yandere kink but I'm the aggressor. I'm bipolar and probably bpd so really its just sexualizing my own mental illness, but I think about stalking someone's social media, slowly gathering everything about them from what they post online and then 'casually' bumping into them in person to force a meet-cute where I make myself seem like the perfect partner. I'm charming and polite and like all the same things they do and gosh your hair is so nice today. I just love your outfit. it looks... really good. I start slow so it doesn't come on too strong but we just keep running into eachother, so really it must be fate, huh? In reality I've ramped up the stalking. I keep taking photos of them on the street, ripping selfies off social media to jack off to because I can't help myself. really I'm trying so fucking hard to be *patient* and they should appreciate it, but I know they won't and god that just pisses me off. I'm putting in all this work for our relationship and theyre so fucking ungrateful. I've seen all the dumb video with that friend of theirs that clearly wants to fuck them and it just burns in my gut. They shouldn't be smiling at other people like that. they should only be happy with me or what fucking good are they? You know, so many people are way too trusting. You really shouldn't trust locks as much as you do. You shouldn't trust your neighbors to do anything if they hear you scream. And you really shouldn't trust some person you just met on the street a couple months ago. And then I keep them chained in my basement 24/7 stewing in their own filth until they apologize for upsetting me and admit they always loved me and wanted to be my stay at home spouse. it's tough love, but if they didn't push me to all of this then I wouldn't have to completely psychologically destroy them first. really its their fault I did all of this. then from there it spins out into a version of stepfordization kink where I make them into the perfect 50s style house spouse and bend them over my knee if dinner isn't ready on time because God is like they don't care about our relationship at all. aren't you even thinking about how this makes *me* feel? and all the while they're chained by a collar or the ankle to our marital home and aren't allowed outside at all until they get everything right to my impossible and capricarious standards. It's okay, honey. I know youre trying your best. Here, you can come make it up to me by doing XYZ, where XYZ is engaging in some fetish that specifically grosses them out and makes them uncomfortable, not because it gets me off but because they should be as upset as they upset me to properly apologize. and if they don't they can alway go back into the basement to relearn their manners. 💜

jeezy weezy anon yeah ditto to all that word-for-word

"not because it makes them uncomfortable but because they should be as upset as they upset me to properly apologize" you get it

I dont really like impact play but god damn by blood play kink is Bad. sometimes I just wanna cut someone open and feel the exact place that my dick is in them ya know?

I don't but God bless you, you're valid.

I really want a ----. Someone entirely in latex and leather that isn't really a person anymore, just a giant sex toy that I can drug and disorient and torture however I like. we don't *really* need a safe word, do we? Toys don't get to say no. God just imagining being too rough with someone in a ---- suit and ignoring when they safe word again and again because why the hell would a toy get to choose when we're done? Woof.

(that's considered a slur these days so I'm censoring it but I am not personally judging you for having used it anon)

I've never been into latex or leather but I appreciate the place it has in BDSM history and culture.

Kink confession: I’m super into raceplay. I’m a white woman and on the submissive side, so I’m right there with your other anons with kinks they struggle to find content for (stuff like BNWO is *so* targeted towards white *men*)

Porn in general is so rarely made for women. It's really weird sometimes.

I'm into vore, but only as the feedy. what I wouldnt give to have something wiggling in my stomach while I jack off. Or, you know how some people do cock vore/unbirthing? that but for my boobs. prying my nipples open and crawling inside to wiggle around until they become more boob or maybe milk when I come. I would also accept softer forms where they go in to help me have milky boobs by stimulating the nerves or w/e but they get sprayed out by the deluge

I have no idea what to say except "fascinating"