#introspection i guess

[ghostlyerlkonig]

On the topic of "media cannot love you" I wonder if this is why there has been, especially in the last 4 years, a rise in begging the people in the media to talk specifically to you and affirm you, the enjoyer of the media, for it to feel good.

[otaku553]

Thoughts on being aroace

[kiisaes]

koi food

[iota-in-space]

I do think Voltron happened in a weird time period where, during the writing process there wasn’t really much queer representation in children’s media. (As well as, how much of that rep was deep and complex and focused heavily on the relationship between the m/m or f/f ships? Vs just an implication that two characters got together?) So Execs would be hesitant to make that big step to have a queer relationship, there’s a market of homophobic viewers (and straight up countries) they’d loss. It’s too risky.

Then as Voltron came out representation was getting a bit better, both in cartoons and just in society in general (rainbow capitalism and stuff, they’re profiting from us but at least they’re including us ya know.) So maybe Execs could live with a character being implied to possibly be gay in some kind of way. And there was groundwork for Shiro to be revealed as gay rep, if they ever decided to go that route. It could be a possibility.

And the fans wanted queer representation. And eventually the higher ups were ok with a male character saying to another gay man “You’re like a brother to me. I love you.” In the most gut wrenching voice that made the actual VA cry while recording. A younger generation didn’t grow up with the necessity to add subtext to queer relationships. In more recent years characters were just queer. So they’ve got no idea of the “no homo bro” trope. Why would they need to? Ironically enough the “You’re like a brother to me” line was probably meant to add deniability to the gay allegations to keep a broader audience. But the people who were the most loud about championing Queer Representation saw that and went No They Are Not Gay.

[what-is-merlin-so-gay-for]

growing up watching one piece is so weird. i remember being seven and comparing myself to little luffy and his bravery. when i was fourteen i wanted to be as smart as chopper and at seventeen i thought about setting out alone like luffy, finding my own way. i was eighteen and nami’s age and just as angry, nineteen and comparing myself to luffy once again. currently twenty and outliving ace, who i always thought of as another big brother. in a few weeks i’ll be sanji and zoro’s age, endlessly trying to be as kind and strong. the year after i’ll be as old as sabo and then robin, hopefully as wise as she is. someday i’ll be franky’s age, then jinbei and one day even brook’s age. and everytime i’ll think „this is when they went through their adventures, this is when they thought what they thought and felt what they felt. my whole life i’ll spend with one piece by my side and that is the most comforting experience of all. one day i’ll die and i’ll think of ace, and how he died knowing that he was loved and i hope i’ll smile like him and face death knowing it was a life well lived.

[ikebo-simp]

Furina knew what it meant to be loved, after all~ all of Fontaine loved her

They'd give her bouquets and shower her in praises. They'd go "We love you Lady Furina!" when they deemed she had been a great archon in that moment

That's what it means to be loved right?

~~~

Furina thought she knew what it meant to be loved, but the moment the mask slipped

The moment they could see the true Furina, the scared girl who had the fate of her country on her unknowing shoulders, they turned on her, no one loved her

She was alone

She no longer knew what it meant to be 'loved'

~~~

But she would gradually relearn what it meant to be loved

It wasn't through flashy gestures like giving her a massive bouquet at every play (although it still happened often) or screaming their adoration to her at the of their lungs

But rather through the small things

Regular tea parties where she could share the ups and downs of her life, memorization of her disliked foods, a simple check-in "How are you?"

Those actions spoke far more volumes than the volume of gifts left in her house

And so perhaps Furina wasn't alone like she thought

And perhaps, she was loved

A/N Furina introspection kinda? I had wanted it to be a x reader but uhhhhh angst kinda got ahold of me before I could stop it

Thanks for Reading

[honeyvettel]

new skin for the old cerimony | marcnaia, 5k, angst, hurt/comfort, smut

marcnaia brainrot alive and real !!!

[erikahenningsen]

33 for cadina!

33. A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking

Regina got the okay from her doctor to stop wearing the corrective neck collar two weeks ago, but she's still struggling.

It makes Cady sad; she knows that Regina wants nothing more than to be independent again, to not have to rely on her mom or her friends to help her do basic tasks.

But Cady will also admit, if only to herself, that she likes being needed by Regina. She was so scared that Regina would want nothing to do with her, but she is instead the person Regina texts to help her when she can't stand being around her mom for another minute.

Cady still comes over often just because—just because she still feels guilty about the bus, just because she actually enjoys Regina's company, just because she realized that the utter devastation she felt in the wake of Regina's accident might have revealed less-than-platonic feelings for her friend.

It's on one of those "just-because" days that Cady is standing behind Regina, who is seated at her vanity, curling wand hot and in hand. Regina still has trouble lifting her arms past shoulder height, so Cady was more than happy to volunteer to curl Regina's hair, if only because it meant an excuse to run her fingers through the soft, floral-scented strands.

It's an unusually warm day, a precursor of the summer soon to come, and Regina is in just a tank top and shorts, leaving an expanse of smooth, pale skin to distract Cady from the task at hand.

Regina seems tired today, like she does on a lot of days, her eyes more often than not slipping closed as Cady carefully brushes and curls her hair. It feels strangely more intimate than anything Cady has done with anyone else, sending a flurry of butterflies all throughout her stomach if she lets herself think about it for too long.

Cady sets the curling wand down and unplugs it, grabbing the hairspray off of Regina's vanity for a final spritz. She holds a careful hand over Regina's eyes as she douses of the top of her head, then sweeps aside the curls to get the underside.

Then she sees it: a scar, running down the back of Regina's neck and into her upper back, revealed by the low cut of the tank top. It takes Cady's breath away, and for a terrifyingly embarrassing moment she thinks she might start crying.

Cady isn't sure what comes over it, but before she knows it she's putting the hairspray down and pressing her lips to the scar, the skin warm and dry and smelling like the vanilla lotion Regina uses. Cady swears she feels a spark where her lips meet Regina's neck.

Then Cady hears a gasp, feels Regina stiffen, and she realizes what she's doing. She stands up so fast she nearly smashes her head into Regina's and meets Regina's eyes in the mirror.

Regina's eyes are wide and clear, and there's a faint blush on her cheeks. She doesn't look mad, to Cady's immense relief. Startled, maybe. And if Cady were to delude herself, she would say she looks... pleased.

"Uh, your hair is done," Cady says, her voice coming out unnaturally high.

"Thanks," Regina says, her voice the opposite of Cady's: low, almost husky.

"Do you, um, need anything else?" Cady asks.

Regina stares at her for a moment, then smirks, just a little.

"What are you offering?" Regina asks, almost... flirtatiously.

"Oh, uh, you know. Whatever you want," Cady says.

Regina's smirk grows at that, and Cady fears she has opened a can of worms—and she isn't so sure she wants to close it.

[cup-of-starlight-waters]

things i was taught by my mother or learned for myself

always cut your nails wet: they are softer while wet, so less prone to splitting and also less likely to make gross noises. best time is after a shower or bath; failing that, after doing dishes, or soaking for five minutes in a bowl of warm water.

recipes don’t always scale proportionally: the clearest example of this is rice; the more rice you have, the less water you need to add. I don’t know why, but suspect it has to do with how much water boils into steam vs how much gets absorbed by the rice. Similarly, if you double a dressing recipe, you might want to cut back on the salt or spice. if you add protein to a dish to feed more people, you might not want to add carbs in proportion—or vice versa. if you are adapting a recipe to serve more or less people, you might want to do a quick search or ask someone’s advice

you are allowed to change recipes: this can be scary if you are just beginning cooking, but so many recipes can be adapted very easily. Don’t like chicken? use pork or beef in stead. out of pink beans? substitute black beans or chickpeas. it might taste different, but it probably won’t taste bad. pasta sauce taste super acidic? put in honey or sugar or chopped carrots next time. if you actually need to reduce the acidity and not the taste, a little bit of baking soda. want a vegetable with your pasta? throw in some chopped carrots or spinach. once you’ve followed enough recipes, you’ll get a sense for the basic cooking processes, and you can start trying new things—the worst that will happen is probably one night of not-so-great food, but more than likely you’ll develop several variations of a favorite recipe you can swap between depending on your mood or what you have in the pantry.

don’t leave hair in the shower: if you have long hair, it sheds, and if you leave shed hair in the shower it will slip down the drain and over time form a nasty clump that will slow or even clog your drain. it’s also very rude if you share a shower with anyone else. if touching your own hair grosses you out, grab some toilet paper or a paper towel and use it to wipe up your hair (this also works if you share a shower with someone who doesn’t clean up their hair).

learn how to do easy things for yourself: my mother tells me to never have the mechanics change the cabin air filter in the car when i get my oil changed, because we can buy them cheap online and it takes five minutes and no special tools to do. i don’t have enough interest in cars or time and energy to do more complicated processes, but this is something that takes five minutes and saves me around $20 every time. if something is difficult or time consuming or better if done by an expert, then go ahead and get it done professionally. but there are a lot of things that are very easy to do yourself if you take the time to look up how.

politeness goes a long way: smiling and saying hello and goodbye to people you work or share community with. asking for advice. asking if someone has the time to help you, and saying thank you even if they don’t. saying thank you. offering to help. giving sincere compliments, not because you want anything but simply because you think it’s true. these things establish that you acknowledge and respect and see the people around you, and the more you do it the better you’ll get at it. and when you do that, people are more likely to acknowledge and respect and see you in return.

don’t mix cleaning chemicals: the big bad, deadly, never ever ever mix together is bleach and ammonia, but in general you shouldn’t mix anything if you don’t know exactly what’s in them whether or not they will react in a harmful fashion. it’s usually safe to dilute chemicals with water, and wearing gloves and a mask can protect you if the cleaning solution is caustic or gives off fumes. you’re probably better off using something milder, though. a mild disinfectant for the bathroom and hot soapy water for everything else is sufficient.

use a separate towel for your face: ideally, you should wash bed linens and towels in hot water regularly, but your face is particularly vulnerable to acne and infections. don’t use the same towel to wipe both your face and your butt. get a hand towel that you use specifically and only for drying your face when it’s clean. if you can’t find the time or energy to wash your bedding regularly, buy extra pillowcases and swap those out instead.

buy clothes that fit (that you like): this one is hard, for so many reasons. clothes are expensive; it can be hard to find good fitting clothes for certain body types; it can be hard to let go of clothes you’ve had for a long time; it can feel shameful to have to pull a particular size off the rack, because our culture sucks. but you will be more comfortable if your clothes aren’t too tight (or too big), and if they don’t have holes in them. if money is an issue, go to thrift stores or charity bins, or (and this can be hard) ask if anyone you know has hand me downs. if you are younger, a lot of people get rid of clothes when they graduate college and pack up their dorm rooms. on the other side of things, if you’ve been wearing hand me downs and up for grabs clothing most of your life and now you have more financial flexibility then you did before, you are allowed to spend money on clothes that you know you’ll wear a lot. don’t buy something that doesn’t fit quite right just because it’s a bargain; chances are you won’t wear it as much because it’s uncomfy. if you have a hard time letting go of a piece of clothing that doesn’t fit anymore or is falling apart, consider repurposing it: make it into a pillow or blanket. cut out a favorite graphic print and stitch it onto a new shirt. give it to someone you know will love it as much as you did. try to find a replacement—sometimes it takes time. my favourite, comfiest underwear style got discontinued by the brand five years ago. i have worn my last pairs to their limit, and only just found a new brand/style that works for me. every time i had to toss a pair because it had holes felt awful because even holey they were more comfortable than the in-between-styles, but now that i’ve found my new style all the old ones must go. out with the old-that-wasn’t-working and in with the new-and-unfamiliar-but-functional!

this is how you cut a melon: - wash with soapy water, because of Germs - put on a cutting board with a rim (to catch the juices) so that the stem and end of the melon point to your left and right - get a garbage bowl or a bag for scraps - use a long knife to bisect the melon, forming two hemispheres with the stem on one half and the melon end on the other - use a large metal spoon to scrape out all the seeds and any soft flesh from each melon half into the trash can or garbage bowl - take one half, place it cut side down on the cutting board, and carefully slide the knife horizontally through the top inch or so of the melon. you should be able to see the flesh or the melon - use a knife (should be long but skinny, so there is some flex to it) and cut off the melon rind one slice at a time, by cutting from the top of the melon to the cutting board, curving the knife path to follow the curve of the melon - rotate the melon half and repeat, until the rind has been completely removed and only the flesh of the melon can be seen - slice or dice the melon half according to your preference - repeat on the other melon half, or cover in cling wrap and refrigerate for another day or two - enjoy delicious melon

reblog with your own things you have been taught, or don’t; enjoy delicious melon, or delicious something else; live and learn new things, or teach the things you’ve learned to someone else

[silenzahra]

Welp... only a month left till my birthday.

...

I'm not prepared whatsoever 😬

[ehh-is-the-name]

I'mma be so real I didn't even realise how deep the mephone "is child, or not is child" debate was... If you don't like that discourse, might wanna unfollow for a bit or something--got some long posts queued.

Still trying to wrap my head around it tbh. Like me personally, I don't see him as a kid right now and I feel like the whole speech Cobs gave was a projection of how the writers feel about the early seasons in general. But on the other hand, if that's the case then yeah he is/was a kid. I think I've always seen him as a kid in s1 because I knew he was written by kids, but like after s1 I just... idk thought he was at least a young adult? or at least at that turning point of s2. Can't pinpoint it now, it's fucking 12 going on 1 am, mostly writing this to see if/how my thoughts change in the future. But I digress, there was definitely parts were it felt like he was older. Not more "mature", but older... Even in s3, at least to me he felt in his 30s.

Like. I can imagine him taking cracking a cold one after a recording, I dont know- That might just be showing my own biases for like age. Like I know addiction doesn't have an age limit but like.... he''s an alcoholic to me....

I don't know. He just hasn't given off "kid" vibes to me for a while, and when he did it always leaned on the side of "he's being childish af for funsies (and coping)" than "he's doing that because he's literally a kid."

And idk if it's just because I'm older now but growing up seeing him as an adult helped in a weird way? Like personally?? I feel like saying that shoots any claim I'm trying to make in the foot, but hell I don't even think I'm trying to convince anyone anything here, I'm just trynna make sense of this goddamn phone.

But for real though, thinking about him as an adult made things a little nicer... Especially for the transition of s3 -> s2. Like, despite everything- despite his trauma resurfacing, and running away again, he still made it out of his abusive home and is trying to quit a coping mechanism (hosting ii, even though he still falls into being an asshole as per ii15), it just meant a lot. It's like showing growth is possible even if you're already grown, ya know? It's hard not to get attached to that idea... I think that's partly why Cobs calling him a kid pissed me off so much. Like even if that's true, or if it were true, or whatever- reducing that message to nothing fucking augh, sucks. It hurts, to say the least.

There are so many ways to look at this show, and cobs, and mephone, and the contestants, and everything that I think I will literally have an aneurysm trying to consider all the points everyone's making. God I'm so fucking tired. Did I mention the phone makes me ill?

[tellsjokes-movedbacktomulti]

songs and quotes for the muse ☆ ( under the cut )

tagged by: stole from @spiritdreamt tagging: youuuuu

five SONGS for my muse:

scrawny by wallows: Still wear the same shoes I did back then / I'd switch it up but I don't like change / Scrawny motherfucker with a cool hairstyle / I say the wrong shit at the right times, If I'm offending them I don't mind / You don't like my clothes but you still like my smile / They might think they're cooler than me by a mile / I can still have wisdom and look like a child.

i don't smoke by mitski: I don't smoke except for when I'm missing you / So if you need to be mean be mean to me, I can take it and put it inside of me / if your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room, you can lean on my arm as you break my heart / just don't leave me alone, wondering where you are / I am stronger than you give me credit for

look who's inside again by bo burnham: trying to be funny and stuck in a room / try making faces, try telling jokes, making little sounds / I was a kid who was stuck in his room. there isn't much more to say about it / when you're a kid and you're stuck in your room you'll do any old shit to get out of it / Well, well look who's inside again / went out to look for a reason to hide again / well, well buddy, you found it / now, come out with your hands up. we've got you surrounded

seventeen going under by sam fender: I remember the sickness was forever / That's the thing, it lingers and claws you when you're down / I was far too scared to hit him but I would hit him in a heartbeat now / see I spent my teens enraged, spiralin' in silence / and I armed myself with a grin 'cause I was always the fuckin' joker, buried in their humor / God, the kid looks so sad / I see my mother

sloppy seconds by watsky: I don't care where you've been, how many miles, I still love you / show me someone who says they got no baggage, I'll show you somebody whose got no story / my favorite sweater was a present that I got a couple presidents ago and I promised that I would rock it till it's thread bare / every single person gotta couple skeletons / and there is not a single place that I would rather be / I'm fucked up just like you are, and you're fucked up just like me

five QUOTES for my muse:

“I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that.” - Robin Williams

“When Mom scolded you freely, you more frequently called her Mom. The word ‘Mom’ is familiar and it hides a plea: Please look after me. Please stop yelling at me and stroke my head; please be on my side, whether I’m right or wrong. You never stopped calling her Mom.” — Kyung-sook Shin, Please Look After Mom

"I want you to know that it is okay not to love me. [ … ] You are not the first person. I want you to know that you are not the first who found it a little too tough, who took two steps back when my jaws started snapping."

"Oh, I could call you names now. List a hundred reasons for why you were awful. But what would that do? Where would it leave me? I still loved you. I still have to live with that."

“in a dream I saw my mother with the love of her life and no children; it was the happiest i'd ever seen her" ―  Rupi Kaur, The sun and her flowers

[finalfantasyandnerdiness]

Epilogue

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIII Pairing: Hope/Light Rating: G Words: 2.5k Summary: The epilogue and its aftermath told through Hope's point of view.

Hope’s heart was already pounding in his chest when the train he’d been waiting for finally came to a stop. He’d been standing outside the small station for about thirty minutes, and his pulse had been completely out of control the entire time. His emotional state kept switching between joy and terror, rarely landing on anything in between. He’d been dreaming about this moment for an entire millennium. If he screwed it up, he would never forgive himself.

A gentle breeze played with his silver hair, most likely ruining his weak attempt to turn the gravity-defying mess into something more presentable. He’d spent an embarrassing amount of time in front of the mirror that morning, navigating the fine line between too formal and too casual. In the end, he’d left the house in a button-down shirt and slacks, which was a decision he felt somewhat comfortable with. His hair, however, was a wildcard. He didn’t usually care all that much about his appearance, but on a day like this, he’d prefer looking like an independent researcher rather than an eccentric scientist.

At least it wasn’t raining.

The train doors opened, and there she was. Hope watched as she crossed the platform with confident steps, his surroundings fading away until all he could see was her. To him, she’d always shined as brightly as her nickname, but the inner glow she was currently radiating had to be visible to anyone. Her outfit was similar to his, leaning more towards casual but worn with far more elegance.

Warmth bloomed in Hope’s chest. Just by looking at her, he could tell that at some point during her travels, the seasoned soldier had finally put away her sword. When she gazed up at the sky and smiled, he knew that it had all been worth it. He’d nearly sacrificed his life, his soul, and his very existence to make this reality come true, and for that smile alone, he’d do it all again.

Read on AO3

[worldsokayestdragon]

GreedxLing Week Day 1: Love Language

Read on AO3

Returning to Xing wasn't what Ling had expected when he'd left home all those months ago. So much had changed, it was hard to believe it had been less than a year since the first time he'd trekked through the desert with Lan Fan and Fu in tow, planning out his first steps for finding the philosopher’s stone and considering the best way to trick the emperor into believing he held the key to immortality for long enough for Ling to maneuver himself into power. Fu had advised him not to get too far ahead of himself, but Ling had refused to even entertain the notion that he might return empty handed. His clan was counting on him. Failure wasn't an option.

Now they were making the return trip with the Chang Clan heiress and a homunculus who until very recently had been coinhabiting Ling’s body. 

Lan Fan had lost her arm, and as guilty as Ling felt for dragging her into the fight that had claimed it, she wouldn’t let him apologize. She insisted it was her choice, and one she’d gladly make again, and he knew her well enough to recognize that if he kept feeling sorry for her she…probably wouldn’t actually punch him in the face–because that would be improper and against her vow to protect him–but she would be seriously tempted to do so. He didn’t mention it again.

And they were returning without Fu.

They were bringing him home, of course they were. They could hardly do otherwise. But it was only his remains making the journey in the urn Lan Fan insisted on carrying herself, carefully checking and repacking it every time they stopped to rest. The old man himself would never again walk at Ling’s shoulder and offer advice that Ling was often too stubborn and foolish to take.

Ling wished they could have stayed in Amestris a bit longer. Just to take some time to heal and rest, to adjust to everything. But the emperor’s health wouldn’t hold forever, and if one of his siblings ascended to the throne before Ling’s return then everything would be for nothing. And Lan Fan’s new automail made it crucial to get across the desert before the summer heat could settle in and threaten to burn her. 

Most importantly, Fu needed to be laid to rest properly, with full rites instead of the stopgap cremation ritual that Lan Fan had been taught as a child–because the life of a royal bodyguard was dangerous and often took one far from home to die. To truly let his spirit rest, Fu needed a real funeral. Getting that done as soon as possible was the least Ling owed to the man who had been like family to him, closer and more beloved than most of his blood relatives.

If Ling thought about that for too long he’d break down, and then Lan Fan would feel obligated to try and comfort him even though she’d lost so much more than he had. He couldn’t do that to her. He had to stay strong.

So he focused on easier things, like getting to know Mei Chang, and adjusting to Greed having a separate body.

The fact that bonding with the little sister he’d been raised to regard as an annoying obstacle at best, and a credible threat to his life at worst, qualified as “easier” was a testament to how out of control his life had gotten.

The fact that he felt the need to adjust to not sharing his body with the personification of a deadly sin was probably evidence that he’d gone completely insane.

He didn’t really know how to interact with either of them.

Mei didn’t seem to know how to interact with him either. She switched between regarding him with a suspicion that bordered on outright hostility, as she’d no doubt been taught to act around any competing heir, and a starry eyed admiration that came with repeated thanks for promising to protect her clan and offers to help him with anything he needed that frankly made Ling more uncomfortable than when she looked like she wanted to stab him. He didn’t know how to convince her that his commitment to bringing together all the clans was genuine and not dependent on her sucking up to him.

Also her tiny panda had bitten him like five times, and he didn’t heal as quickly as he used to.

And Greed. Greed was the same as he’d always been, probably, but Ling wasn’t used to observing him from the outside. He knew what the homunculus was thinking and feeling in any situation still, could make his stupid sarcastic jokes in unison with him most of the time, but that was just the knowledge of familiarity. He couldn’t hear the outline of Greed’s thoughts the way he used to, or feel the echoes of his emotions. And Ling was starting to realize that for as good as they’d gotten at communicating, their mental conversations maybe hadn’t been much like talking, because he found it difficult to put anything he wanted to say to Greed into words.

He wanted to say so much to Greed. He wanted to reassure him that they could still rule Xing together even if they were separate people now. Wanted to ask if Greed still wanted that, or if he’d rather find something of his own, even if Ling was scared of the answer to that question. He wanted to scream at Greed for being an idiot and trying to sacrifice himself, for lying to him, for almost leaving him behind. He wanted to beg Greed to never do that again, because Ling needed him, and missed him even when he was still here, and he didn’t know how he’d ever recover if Greed left him entirely.

Ling wanted to tell Greed he loved him, and that he thought Greed loved him too, thought he had felt it when Greed shoved Ling away to protect him at the cost of his own life.

But now that Greed was in his own body, looking like his old self and also an entirely new person to Ling, it was hard to be confident that he still felt the same, or even that he’d ever felt that way at all. Maybe Ling had been projecting, the confusion and emotion of that moment overwhelming him and making him feel what he wanted to feel from Greed. 

Certainly Greed hadn’t said anything to indicate he felt that way toward Ling since Lan Fan had flung the philosopher’s stone she’d been carrying into the homunculus’s dissipating form and–in an alchemic reaction that Ed said “made no sense” and “gave him a headache”–Greed’s body from before he’d been merged with Ling reformed around him.

Greed had let Ling scream at him for lying, and being a self sacrificing idiot, and scaring him, had let shove him and also let Ling cling to him and tell him to never do anything like that again. 

He’d apologized for hurting Ling, but notably didn’t say he was sorry for what he’d done or promise not to do it again. Ling had been a little tempted to stab him then, but he wasn’t sure how many times the incomplete philosopher’s stone inside him could heal him back up. He didn’t want to risk losing him again. (And, Greed had pointed out later, they’d need to “do the hammer trick” at least once to prove to the emperor that Greed was immortal. Ling had vague, second hand memories of “the hammer trick,” and he was sure they could come up with something a little less traumatizing.)

But other than the apology, Greed hadn’t really talked much to Ling after coming back to life. He didn’t even say that he planned to come back with them, just fell in step beside Ling as they headed out and asked how long it would take to get to Xing.

So Ling couldn’t know if Greed felt the way he did, and the thought of being wrong, of ruining the relationship they did have, kept him from asking. Every big, important thing Ling wanted to say to Greed got caught in his throat. 

Greed didn’t say anything either. Sometimes it seemed like he was about to. Ling knew him well enough to tell when he was working up to being honest in a way that wasn’t just not telling a lie, a way that was hard for him, but he never followed through. 

But even though they were completely failing to talk to each other, even though the silence was awkward and painful at times when Ling thought about how easily they’d talked and joked before, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Greed’s side for long. They were rarely out of arm’s reach of each other. Most often they stayed so close that Ling thought if it was anyone else he’d be freaked out by the invasion of his personal space.

It never felt like an invasion when it was Greed literally breathing down Ling’s neck, walking so close to each other it was frankly a miracle they didn’t trip over each other’s feet, sitting practically in each other’s laps by the campfire when the chill of the desert night set in. They’d given up the pretense of settling into separate bedrolls after the second time they’d woken up wrapped around each other in the sand between two unused piles of blankets. 

But for all that easy closeness, they still barely talked.

Ling couldn’t bring himself to talk to Greed, and he didn’t know how to talk to Mei, and Lan Fan never liked to talk about things before she’d had a chance to process them on her own, so Ling hardly dared to interrupt her grief with conversation. It was shaping up to be the most awkwardly silent trip in history.

Except actually Greed and Mei seemed to have no trouble talking to each other. Half the time the homunculus wasn’t right beside Ling it was because he’d walked off to talk to his little sister. She wasn’t nearly as standoffish with Greed, and he apparently had plenty to say to her. They got along great, other than the first time they’d talked, when Mei had squealed “Mister Greed, that’s so—” and Ling had never found out what that was so because Greed had clapped a hand over the girl’s mouth and hissed something at her, ignoring Xiao-Mei biting his hand in retaliation. 

Since then they had quiet conversations that cut off when Ling approached basically every day, and any time Ling asked Greed what they were talking about he just said “don’t worry about it,” or sometimes “wouldn’t you like to know,” which was the type of nonanswer he only gave when he wanted to keep something to himself without technically lying.

Ling watched the two of them conspiring or plotting or whatever it was they were doing, and had to firmly remind himself that he was not jealous of a thirteen-year-old who’d been forced to travel to a foreign country alone in a desperate bid to save the clan she was too young to bear responsibility for.

No matter how easily she got to talk to Greed.

Other than talking to Mei, the only times Greed left Ling’s side was when he’d seen something on the ground he wanted to investigate.

That at least was familiar. Ling remembered spending the winter trekking through Amestris, and how often Greed wandered off the trail to pick up a shiny rock or a weird shaped stick or a bottle cap with an interesting logo to shove in their pocket. Ed griped at him constantly for wasting time picking up trash, but that had never stopped Greed.

What was weird now was that Greed always looked at whatever he picked up critically instead of pocketing it and rejoining the group immediately. He twisted the objects this way and that, examined them in the light, and most of the time he dropped them again as if he’d found them lacking. 

Maybe admitting to himself that what he really wanted was people to care for had eased his compulsion to collect whatever caught his eye.

(Maybe having Ling around was enough, even if it wasn’t the same as it had been. Maybe he was satisfied to have a friend, and Ling could be satisfied with that too, even if neither of them ever made a move to make it something more. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.)

The first time Greed found something that met his new standards, it was nearing sunset on their first day in the desert between Amestris and Xing. Greed split off from the group and came back with a rock worn smooth by the blowing sands. The sunlight shone on the rock’s surface, and revealed little clusters of sparkles when Greed twisted it at the right angle. In different lighting it would probably look like an unremarkable gray lump, but it was beautiful in the moment. Ling understood why Greed decided to pick it up.

He didn’t understand why, instead of shoving it in his own pocket as usual, Greed held it out for Ling.

“Here,” he said, looking at Ling expectantly. “Take it.”

“Um, okay?”

Ling held out his hand and Greed tipped the rock into it. It was smooth as marble, and warm from lying in the sun. It fit perfectly in Ling’s palm. He absently ran his thumb over the surface as he looked back at Greed.

Greed had a concerningly smug look on his face. 

Suddenly suspicious, Ling asked, “Are you trying to make me carry your stuff so you can pick up even more rocks?”

The smug smile disappeared from Greed’s face. 

“No, It’s–ugh nevermind!”

Ling watched, bemused, as Greed stomped away, as much as anyone could stomp over shifting sand, to talk to Mei. The girl patted him comfortingly on the arm and shot Ling a dirty look that he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve.

Ling tucked the rock carefully into his pocket for safekeeping, and then hurried to catch up with Lan Fan and offer to help her find a good campsite.

A few days later, as they were approaching an oasis midway between the Amestran border and the ruins of Xerxes, Greed once again found something he deemed worthy of hanging on to. 

The oasis was one of the better documented sources of water on the journey through the desert and trade caravans came through the area regularly. They’d been seeing little bits and bobs that must have fallen off a wagon throughout the day. Greed had stopped to investigate most of it, but only found one thing he actually liked. 

Once again, Greed carried his find over to Ling, this time keeping whatever it was closed in his fist as he offered it.

“Here. I want you to keep this. Not carry it for me.”

“...Right.” Ling decided not to comment on Greed’s weird behavior, instead just holding out his hand under Greed’s

A ring dropped into Ling’s palm, a black band set with a purple gemstone almost the exact color of Greed’s eyes. 

The stone was fake, Ling could tell right away. He didn’t know if Greed couldn’t tell or just didn’t care. For all his talk about appreciating the finer things, Greed didn’t actually put much stock into how expensive or high quality anything was, perfectly content with costume jewelry as long as it was suitably flashy. 

This ring actually wasn’t nearly as gaudy as Greed’s tastes normally ran. It black band was simple, etched with a subtle geometric pattern that was only visible up close. The single stone was large, but not ridiculously so, not something that was deliberately ostentatious.  

Ling actually liked it, and maybe it was unbecoming of a future Emperor of Xing, but Ling found he didn’t care much more than Greed did about having only expensive belongings just to prove he could afford them.

Greed shifted anxiously, and Ling realized he’d been silently staring at the ring for long enough for it to get uncomfortable.

“Thank yo–”

“We must hurry, my lord.” Lan Fan called, interrupting Ling’s thanks. “We need to reach the oasis before sundown if we hope to replenish our supplies tonight and get an early start tomorrow.”

Ling knew most people would think she sounded perfectly respectful, as befitted a bodyguard speaking to her master. But he also knew her well enough to hear how annoyed she was getting with the hold up.

“Coming Lan Fan!” he called. Turning to Greed he added, “We’d better go before she decides to stab you.”

Greed looked a little disappointed, but nodded, easily matching Ling’s pace as they began to walk again. 

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t really want to fight her.”

“Because you don’t fight women?” Ling asked.

Greed hummed in agreement and Ling rolled his eyes.

“That’s such an old fashioned attitude. She could beat you easily, especially if you do that thing where you refuse to use your full shield until you’re already losing.”

Greed looked at Ling like he was stupid. 

“Of course she could. She’s insane. I guess you never met my ‘sister’ before she bit the dust, but she was fucking terrifying. And Martel was–” Greed cut himself off, looked away for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing. “Ed’s teacher took out my whole crew single handedly once. That Winry girl’s not even a fighter and she tossed us and Darius and Heinkel and those two Briggs guys out of her room like it was nothing. Not to mention your little sister being–”

“Wait,” Ling interrupted Greed’s list. “Are you saying you’re ‘not the kind of guy who fights women’ because you think all women can kick your ass?”

“I don’t think all women can kick my ass,” Greed argued. “I just think women who like to fight are more likely to kick my ass than men, which is not fun for me, and women who don’t fight probably have no idea how to because of stupid human gender rolls, so I’d feel shitty for beating them up. Also the one time I tried to fight Lust she backed me into a corner and slashed my arms off like ten times in a row while saying I should never hit a lady, so. Don’t really want to do that again.”

Ling burst out laughing as they hurried to catch up with Lan Fan, and ignored Greed’s protests about his reasoning making perfect sense.

He slipped the ring onto his finger as they walked.

He didn’t miss Greed’s pleased smile.

They reached Xerxes before midday, and decided to rest there and head out again the next morning. 

Greed announced that he was going to take a look around the place. When Ling stood to go with him he added that he wanted to go alone.

Ling tried to hide his hurt and disappointment at that. He had thought they’d been getting a little more comfortable around each other the last few days.

He must not have succeeded, because Greed suddenly looked panicked and added, “I mean alone for now! We can go together later, that would be cool. But you should…rest! Because you need more of that than me. And you should let me find places that are safe to explore first since you’re all human now and…squishy.” He winced at his own word choice. “Okay, see you later, bye!” 

Greed all but fled from where they’d settled in the shade of a ruined building, and Ling watched him go.

Greed was being very weird since the Promised Day. Well, he was always weird, but now it was obvious even to Ling, who’d mostly gotten used to his baseline bizarre behavior. 

Greed almost never said what he meant, for all that he didn’t lie, but he was normally way smoother at talking his way around things. Smooth enough that he could even fool himself into believing his bullshit.

And Ling couldn’t figure out why Greed kept giving him stuff. Sure, his whole “I want everything” routine was just a cover for the fact that he couldn’t even admit to himself that he just wanted friends. Ling was able to tell that almost right away, once they joined up with Ed and he let himself think of Greed as something other than an enemy he had to resist. 

But he’d never picked up on any real inclination to give things away, no matter how much he cared about the people around him more than he’d ever let on. He also liked having stuff. And yet he hadn’t kept any of the things he’d picked up on their journey.

Ling could hear Greed make his way through the ruined city streets. He was not gifted in stealth, much to the dismay of their traveling companions when they’d been trying to evade the Amestran military over the long months of winter. 

It sounded like he was digging through the rubble and flipping stones too big for a human hands to easily move. Ling wondered what he hoped to find. The place had been abandoned for generations. Then again, most people left it alone rather than ransacking it, out of respect for the terrible tragedy that had happened here, so maybe there was something worth finding. 

Ling was considering whether he should tell Greed to stop rifling through the remains of a dead civilization when Greed made a triumphant noise and the sounds of digging through rubble stopped, replaced by the sounds of sprinting back towards the rest of them.

Greed audibly stopped running just around the corner of their makeshift shelter and then strolled casually into sight. Ling very kindly refrained from laughing at the terrible attempt at acting like he hadn’t been rushing back. Mei had to turn away and disguise her giggles as a cough, and Lan Fan didn’t bother to hide her judgemental stare. 

Greed looked a little excited and a little nervous as he walked over to Ling, though Ling wasn’t sure if someone who hadn’t spent a few months inside Greed’s head would be able to see that through the false air of confidence he’d put on. He was holding something behind his back.

Greed stopped directly in front of Ling and said, “I found this for you,” before all but shoving the hidden object into Ling’s hands.

It was a dagger in a sheath that had maybe once been brightly painted but had long since faded to the barest hints of a pattern. The hilt and cross guards formed elegant curves,  and there was a blue jewel inset in the pommel. Ling drew the blade, and though it had long lost its edge, it must have been well made and also incredibly sheltered from the elements wherever Greed had dug it out from, because it was in remarkable condition for how old it must have been. It would probably only need a little bit of maintenance to be usable. 

It was a beautiful weapon, but also a practical one, lacking in the tacky extra spikes and jagged edges that Ed liked to give things, and that Greed had often praised as looking “pretty sweet.” It was obvious that Greed had picked it with Ling’s tastes in mind.

“Thank you,” Ling breathed. “It’s perfect. I love it.”

He looked up from the blade to find Greed grinning at him, somewhere between elated and self satisfied.

“I don’t have anything for you,” Ling added, suddenly feeling guilty for taking so many gifts from Greed without offering something in return. “I could go find–”

“You don’t have to,” Greed interrupted, still smiling. “I mean, you can if you want. You know I’ll never say no to a present. But you don’t have to. I didn’t give it to you so you’d give me something.”

“Why did you, then?” Ling asked.

The smile slipped off of Greed’s face, but before Ling could freak out about making him sad, Lan Fan and Mei both groaned in frustration, in a display of synchronicity that Ling didn’t think boded well for his future well being.

“Ling Yao, you are so stupid!” Mei exclaimed. She sounded less hostile than he might have expected with that statement. Her tone almost reminded him of when Al would sometimes despair over what an idiot his big brother was.

“He’s not the only problem,” Lan Fan argued. “Greed, you need to stop acting like a child and use your words.”

Ling was officially lost. He looked between his three companions in hopes of finding a clue to what was happening, and was completely disappointed in that hope. 

“Lan Fan, do you know what’s going on?” Ling asked. 

“Of course I do!” she snapped before taking a deliberate breath and continuing in something closer to her normal calm and respectful way of speaking to him. Ling could still clearly hear her holding herself back from calling him an idiot.

“Ling, you are my prince, my lord, my future emperor. I would follow you anywhere, I would kill and die for you, and I know you will be a good king to our people. But I cannot deal with this foolishness another second. It was a nice distraction at first, but it’s gone on for far too long.”

She turned away from him to speak to Mei. “I'm going for a walk. Would you like to join me, Princess?”

“Yes, actually,” Mei chirped, hopping to her feet. “ I wanted to take a look around and see if I could find any surviving records of the types of alchemy that were studied here. Hopefully something that doesn’t involve human sacrifice for a change.”

“Wait,” Greed said, sounding slightly panicked. “Mei, you said you wanted to help me.”

“I did want to help you, mister Greed, but Lan Fan’s right. This is taking too long. You two need to sort this out before we get back, or we’re kicking both of your butts, okay?”

Lan Fan, alarmingly, did not object to the idea of Mei kicking Ling’s butt, and instead calmly walked away with the younger girl.

Ling looked back at Greed, who was staring after Mei like a man lost at sea watching his last hope of rescue disappear over the horizon.

“Do you know what we're supposed to be working out?” Ling asked, watching Greed's attention snap to him in a wide eyed stare. “Because I really don't want to get beat up by my little sister and my best friend. Actually, I think I liked it better when they hated each other.”

“Right,” Greed said. He took a deep breath and shook his arms out, his expression settling into something more calm and confident that was almost convincing. “I can use my words, no problem. I don't act like a child.”

“Of course,” Ling agreed, trying to sound encouraging. 

Privately he had his doubts. This sounded like it was going to be a serious conversation, and while Greed has many strengths and good qualities, the ability to talk about serious things–or gods forbid his own emotions–was not one of them. He hadn't even been able to tell the difference between wanting world domination and wanting friends until Ling spelled it out for him.

Ling thought he might know what this was about, or hoped he did anyway. But he wouldn't push. If he was wrong it would be awful, and if he was right then it was best to let Greed try and get it out on his own time.

“I want–I mean I–you’re so–” Greed cut himself with a muttered curse. “Let me start over?”

“Sure. Take your time.”

Greed took a few more breaths, looking everywhere but at Ling, before seeming to gather the nerve to continue.

“I want to rule Xing with you,” Greed said in a rush, so fast Ling could hardly make out the words. “I mean, if that offer's still on the table. If I didn't screw it up forever with the lying to you and almost dying and making you waste that philosopher's stone to save my ass. I really hope I didn't screw it up?”

That wasn't exactly what Ling had wanted to hear, but it was still good. It meant Greed wanted to stay with him, and Ling wanted to rule Xing together too. That could be enough. It really could.

He refused to let himself be disappointed.

“You didn't screw anything up,” he reassured. “Of course the offer still stands. I thought that was obvious when you decided to come back with us.”

Greed shook his head. “No–well yes, but. What I mean is…we aren't sharing the same body anymore.”

“Yes, I've noticed that.” Ling agreed slowly, once again lost as to what Greed was even talking about.

“Right. Of course you have. Obviously.”  Greed waved his hand vaguely, as if shooing away Ling’s comment. “So, now we’re two different people. I mean we always were, but like, legally or whatever. And, you know, normally if two different people are ruling a country together it’s because they’re together. I guess usually married, technically.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

That was actually a bit more than Ling had been hoping for, to be honest. But Greed never did anything halfway.

Before Ling could say anything, Greed’s mind visibly caught up with his mouth. His face turned a very interesting shade of red.

“Wait, no, that’s not what I–” Greed waved both hands in the space between them, like he could maybe catch and take back the words. “I don’t mean we should get married right now! Or ever, if you don’t want. We really haven’t known each other that long, even if it feels like I’ve known you forever. I just meant–I really want to stay with you, and not just because I want to rule a country. So maybe we could date? Or something? God, I sound like an idiot! Forget I said anything, I’m just gonna go dig a hole and bury myself for a few hours. Or years.”

Greed turned away, and Ling just managed to shake himself out of his shock in time to catch his hand before he could make a break for it. 

Greed could have pulled away easily. There was no way Ling, who was back to being an ordinary human, could have held a homunculus who really didn’t want to stay put. But Greed didn’t pull away. Instead he stopped like he was rooted to the ground. He looked down at where their hands were joined between them, then twisted his so he could interlock their fingers.

Ling couldn’t stop the huge smile growing across his face, no doubt completely goofy and undignified, and not even serving a purpose like the ones he used to put on for his airheaded prince act. He didn’t really care.

“I don’t think you sound like an idiot,” Ling said. “I want to stay with you not just to rule a country too.”

Greed eyes darted up from their hands to look searchingly at Ling’s face. “Really?” He asked.

Of course, for all Greed’s blustering self aggrandizement, he really didn’t think very highly of himself. Ling might be the only one to know the truth of that, so he knew how hard it must have been for Greed to come out and say that he wanted to be with Ling, without even hiding behind some convoluted speech about wanting to own him.

It gave Ling the courage to do something hard himself.

“Yes, really. Couldn’t you feel it when we were sharing a body?” Ling really hadn’t thought he’d been subtle, but Greed just tilted his head in question. “Greed, I love you.”

Greed gasped, looking at Ling like he’d just performed a miracle. He raised his free hand and gently, almost hesitanty, cupped the side of Ling’s face. 

“I–” Greed started, and then gave up trying to talk in favor of leaning forward and kissing Ling.

It was a chaste kiss, just a brush of their lips really, and Ling wasn’t sure if Greed was being considerate for his comparative lack of experience, or if the vulnerability of the moment had made the homunculus feel uncertain in the action himself. 

Either way, that simple press of lips felt amazing, electric in a way it maybe didn’t have any right to. A part of Ling would probably always miss the closeness of sharing his body with Greed, but now he realized that having their own bodies opened up a lot of exciting new possibilities.

All too soon, Greed pulled away again. He stared into Ling’s eyes, looking every bit as dazed and happy as Ling felt.

“I love you too,” Greed said, his voice barely above a whisper but the only thing Ling could hear. 

Greed’s new old body was taller, and Ling had to reach up to wrap a hand around the back of his head and tug him down into another, deeper kiss. But Greed leaned back in so easily he barely had to pull, so that was okay.

Eventually they’d need to talk more, about what they both wanted, about how to frame their relationship to the emperor and the people of Xing so it wouldn’t hurt their chances at the throne. But all of that could wait. For now, Ling was more than happy to let the world fall away as he stood in the ruined city and kissed the man he loved.

When the girls returned to find them like that, Mei seemed torn between finding the romance sweet and being disgusted by her brother kissing someone. She landed on disgusted, sticking her tongue out and saying, “Blech! Do that somewhere else!” before flopping down next to her bags and pulling out a notebook, presumably to take note of whatever alchemical oddities she’d spotted on her walk.

Lan Fan still looked tired and sad, and probably would for a long time yet, but when she smiled at Ling he could tell it was genuine. “I’m happy for you, young lord,” she said, and her voice sounded lighter than he’d heard it since before she cut off her arm.

So much had changed since he’d set off for Amestris nearly a year ago, and Ling had lost things he would never get back. But he’d gained more than he’d ever thought to dream as well. 

As he sat in the ruins of the city whose destroyer they had helped defeat, with his best friend, the little sister he never thought he’d be allowed to care for, and the love of his life by his side, Ling thought he’d be ready for whatever changes the future might hold.

[a-lewd-rat]

Terra Invicta, or, "What if that one 4X game from that one very specific hdg fanfic was a real game."

[capricioussun]

I was really thinking about if I would ever be comfortable merging my art accounts and I don't think I will. At least not unless I did a full rebrand which I'd really rather not since I'm very happy with how things are situated now.

But I think it boils down to acceptance seeking. I've been socially isolated for a very long time and it's difficult. Even back when I first started drawing au stuff years ago, I contemplated making a separate blog for it because I knew how many ut fans didn't really like the aus. I didn't want to alienate any of the "audience" I'd already built but I also knew there would be a turning point I would just wind up barely posting on one account or the other and it would feel like trying to limp half the time on one leg and then limp the rest on the other, which would be pointless.

But with mirrorshipping (selfcest) being a much more universally contentious topic, I got worried it would only deter people even more. I certainly didn't want to lie about it, especially bc I don't associate it with prshipping the way some others do, so it's not really that im "ashamed" of it, or want to hide it, just that I know it's the kind of thing that's very likely to make some who just walked in turn right back around.

To some degree, as someone who hopes to one day make a career out of being an independent artist, it makes sense to prioritize "growth" over personal satisfaction, but on the other, I've always struggled to care about that sort of thing. Any time I've cared about "alienating" a potential "audience", it's always been more about personal acceptance. I don't want people to see one little aspect of myself or interests and judge me entirely based off of that, even though that's all anyone really can do on the internet. I don't take blocking personally, despite how the prior sentiment seems to contradict that, I get it, I block all the time too, for a variety of reasons. But if there's a chance there're others who don't really mind that I mirrorship, they just don't want to see it or have to block the tag, I don't want them to feel turned away or annoyed, and so I kept it all to a separate account.

There are a few other reasons I won't really get into, too, like how people often do associate it with prship, and how I don't really want to draw that type of a crowd to my main blog, either, but I know in my heart it's the acceptance/approval seeking that was the biggest motivator.

I really honestly wish I knew how to connect with others beyond just trying to "do things right" and hoping that earns me positive attention. I really wish I didn't always feel like my only chance at affection is to improve what I can offer in return.