#motorbike ash

[5sospicturesque]

Clearing out my camera roll 9966/?

[spyromancy]

playful // shy

some little things drawn at different times from a pairing that resulted from a panfandom RP with my partner... i wanted to try drawing them after their piece here

[tiramis-hoon]

just watched the concept vid for dark blood... ENHA HAVE MERCY I'M NOT THAT STRONG 🙏🙏🙏

[ranilla-bean]

Chapter 2 of the Mercy of Magpies: out now!

Sokka baulked. “I’m not getting on that.” “That,” said Zuko, “is my baby.” Zuko’s baby, a fifty foot dragon, huffed. Great white plumes of smoke issued out of his nostrils and buffeted around Sokka. “Play nice, Druk,” said Zuko, laughing.

in chapter 2 of the mercy of magpies, zuko takes sokka for a spin on his midlife crisis motorbike dragon

and don't forget to check out the art by @ash-and-starlight, this one's breathtaking!

read from the start

or:

[uhhlifeig]

Bonfire - October 3 - word count: 455 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Remus stood alone in the small clearing, the moon barely visible through the scattered clouds. 

It was Halloween- a year to the day since Lily and James had died, since his world had crumbled.

The flickering bonfire before him cast long shadows, dancing in the dark.

In his hand, he held a photograph- one of the last remaining images of the Marauders, taken during their final year at Hogwarts. Lily had snapped it, insisting that the four of them look “at least somewhat civilized” for once. 

Sirius was grinning, his arm slung lazily around Remus’s shoulders, James was holding up a Snitch he’d stolen from practice, and Peter smiled widely, watching the little golden ball flutter around.

Remus's gaze lingered on Sirius’s face. The Sirius he’d loved so fiercely, who had stood by him during every full moon, who had shared in every laugh, every secret was now a man in Azkaban. 

A traitor. 

A murderer.

He was the reason Lily and James were dead. The reason Harry was now an orphan. The reason Peter was gone.

Remus dropped the photo onto the ground beside the fire, kneeling to open the old box that sat at his feet. 

It had been gathering dust in the back of his flat since that awful night a year ago, but he had finally mustered the courage to pull it out, to face what it contained.

Inside were more pictures, old letters, notes passed during class, memories of a time when they were whole. Back when it had all seemed so simple. 

Back when they had been invincible.

Remus took out another photo, this one from a Gryffindor party. 

The image was of them swaying drunkenly as they belted out a loud, off-key rendition of All The Young Dudes. He could still hear the laughter, the joy that had filled the common room that night.

He threw it into the fire.

The flames crackled and roared as the photo was consumed, Sirius’s face vanishing into the heat, the memory curling and turning to ash. 

He reached for more, sifting through them, one by one, until they were all consumed by the flames. 

The last to go was a photo of Sirius, just Sirius, laughing as he leaned against his motorbike, the wind tousling his hair. 

Remus had taken the picture after a long ride through the countryside. It had been one of those rare, perfect days, with the sun shining, the air fresh, and Sirius looking so alive.

Remus hesitated, his fingers brushing over Sirius’s face, a dull ache spreading through his chest.

Why did you do it? he wanted to scream. Why did you throw it all away?

Another photograph. Another memory. 

It, too, went into the fire.

[scham-wcan]

Cinder, abruptly coming into Winter’s office:

Winter: …

Cinder:

Winter: Yes, Ash-

Cinder: I bought a motorbike

Winter: You don’t even drive our car-?

Cinder: Ruby and I got bikes to race

Winter: What? No you did not-

Weiss, down the hall: YOU WHAT?

[whorediaries-09]

pick your poison, babe;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- suggestive content, fluff. a/n- imgonnagetyouback stans rise for the national anthem.

little train.

'you're blushing,' he says. the woman sitting across him laughs, making no effort to hide the obvious effect he has on her. fluttering her eyelashes at him, she runs her tongue across the row of her front teeth,

'yeah so?' she leans forward, 'haven't seen anyone fall for your charm before you?' he tilts his head back, black inky strands glowing in the dim light of the pub. the bark like laughter emits from his lips, reaching your ears like a melodious tune.

it's a wonder really, how he hasn't spotted you yet. you're not sitting much far away from sirius' little 'date'-which you'd been informed of by james. lily had informed you that it was nothing but a ploy to make you jealous.

two could play the game, you'd thought as you turned up at the pub. if you knew sirius black any better, you were sure he wouldn't choose such a shabby place for a date for a woman he actually fancied. that also confirmed your suspicions of this whole set up being just a ploy.

'let me take you home,' he said. the woman leaned closer to him, mouthing a 'sure'. he was being so bubbly. you wanted nothing more but to punch away his piously fake chivalrous acts. you wiped your greasy fingers on your lilac short skirt which fitted you like skin.

god damn it, the place didn't even have fucking tissues.

you decided you'd enough. throwing in a few notes to pay off the bill and the tips, you snuck out the pub. you searched for the pocket knife you kept in your purse; london could get dangerous at night, plan ready and steady to be put in action.

you found his motorbike standing at the pavement, so innocently. you smirked to yourself, knife digging into the tires, letting out the air.

sirius had done his research. he knew the price going in.

*-

'i'll tell you one thing, honey. i can tell if somebody still wants me.' you said, brushing off his efforts to flirt with you. of course you knew he wanted you. but the game was not finished. not yet, anyways. he pouted.

'i know you punctured my motorbike that night, sweetheart,' he said, casually, as if not noticing the momentary freezing of your body or your parting lips before you put on your nonchalant facade.

'i'll make sure to smash up your bike next time,' you replied, with equal mirth, even though you couldn't really escape the heat that crawled beneath your cheeks. he chuckled, the smoke billowing out his mouth. his free hand crawled to your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh. he leaned closer, eyes on the book on your lap. lips brushing against your ear, he whispered,

'and i'll make you think twice about it.'

and god forbid you found yourself hanging by the thread of your sanity. your stomach jolted with butterflies as he moved away, taking another drag.

turning you to ashes.

he threw the burnt end on the ground, crushing it with his boot.

'i know what i want, sweetheart. and trust me,' he breathed, getting up and standing up in front of you, finger under your jaw. 'you'll find you were never not mine.'

you smirked, raising an eyebrow.

'or maybe i'll just flip the script. take the upper hand. might just love you till the end, or leave you like a dumb house party,'

he coyly smiled.

there was danger in the heat of your touch. but god forbid he'd be lying if he hadn't already picked the heated posion.

*-

'i've got someone,' you said, blowing a raspberry at his very poor and lame attempt at impressing you. it wasn't true, of course. but he didn't need to know that. he rolled his eyes.

'say you got somebody and i'll say i got someone too. what's the point of lying to each other?'

'you're not gonna leave are you?' you asked, feigning annoyance, pulling away your feet from him, as he'd been painting your nails.

'nope. even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you,'

'you're so annoying,' you pushed your head into the soft pillow. he chuckled.

'you're a bad liar,'

you grumbled. there wasn't actually any game either of you were playing. all the both of you were doing was trying to escape from each others feelings. like a trap, to see who'd fall into it first.

the pieces were broken, but the both of you wanted to play the game.

*-

'sirius orion black!' your scream was loud, paired with the loud crash of his door. you were usually very careful when it came to rented apartments, but sirius had taken it too far this time. he had no business fucking up your date-

you slammed against his form, fresh out the shower. your cheeks instantly reddened, realizing the situation you were in. you'd just walked into sirius fresh out the shower. yet your anger overpowered any other emotion of embarrassment, so you lashed out, not really caring about the ink on his bare chest, his toned body, the white towel wrapped low and loose around his thin and narrow hips and the pellets of water flowing down his porcelain skin...

'you're staring and screaming.'

'i'm not!'

'keep telling yourself that.'

'you-shut up! you ruined my date. i was looking forward it to it-'

any further words were silenced by the harsh planting of his lips falling on yours, hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you towards his wet body, pushing you towards his bedroom.

'all you do is fucking talk, god sweetheart,' he grumbled, pushing you on the bed.

'i don't-'

'see, you're doing it again.' he said, knitting his eyebrows. 'we don't have to play this game, you know? the pieces are already broken.'

of course you knew it. you heard the whispers in his eyes. he made you think twice. and of course you knew you he was never not yours.

'come here,' you ordered. he smiled wolfishly, pushing your further on the mattress, lips hot on your warm skin. he kissed soft and slow along the line of your blouse, undoing the buttons with his teeth.

'you still going to smash up my bike, sweetheart?' he asked. you laughed, breathlessly.

'whether i'm going to be your wife or smash up your bike, i haven't decided yet,'

**********************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

****************************************

[bcacstuff]

I realize any thoughts on this would be pure speculation at this point but I am curious as to your opinion. Where do you see Sam as ending up now that OL is done? Los Angeles? We know he has businesses there, friends probably property but in the past he has referred to his love/ hate relationship with the city. New York? He evidently loves New York and it seems the Sassenach business is focused there. ( Now the influencer Ash is also moving there). Or will Scotland remain his base. It is after all integral to his business and he says Cadder Mill is his first real home. What are your thoughts?

Right pure speculation.

My thoughts would be, first it depends on where his next job will bring him. I actually don't see him getting real foothold in the US. Rather in the UK.

He has his business in LA, well actually it's registered in Nevada last I checked. But that doesn't mean he'll end up there. He doesn't own property there (I know someone claims he has, but that's not true. I wrote a lengthy post about that in the past). All we know is he owns a motorbike in LA. But that's it and it's stalled at AN's HH house where he is right now as well given his last pics.

Anyway, I do not really see him ending up in the US, if at all he might like to get something in theater in NYC. That would likely make him stay for a while in NYC. But I doubt that will happen.

I don't think he'll give up his beloved tavern, but surely will keep traveling back and forth between the UK and the US. London might be one of the options as well.

[t4tmagicians]

Bruce apologizes to Harley as he fastens her wrists behind her. She barely seems to react, staring into the still-smoldering embers of the warehouse.

"Arkham again?" she croaks, when police officers approach them. Bruce mutters something affirmative, and all of a sudden, he's offering to drive her to the asylum himself.

She slumps in the front passenger seat of the Batmobile, streaked with soot and ash and tear marks cutting clean lines down her face. She looks tired.

"He's gettin' sick of me." She explains, no prompting necessary. Bruce can see the weight on her shoulders. They pull up to Arkham, the gates opening for the Batmobile without question.

"He threw you out a window a year ago. What's different now?" Bruce asks, keeping his voice soft. For a moment, he sees no difference between every tired young woman he meets on the street, beaten down by the world, and the diamond-patterned woman next to him.

"He don't laugh when I get hurt no more." Harley sighs, like it's a great tragedy. It probably is, for her. Bruce tempers down the tiny spark of hope in his chest.

"Maybe explore other options." Bruce offers. Harley snorts in laughter, loud and sudden.

"What other options are there?" She says, voice light and airy, but Bruce can hear the fear in it. What other options are there for Harley Quinn?

Bruce pats her on the back when she's in her cell at Arkham. She curls up dejectedly on the bed, and he mentally schedules a visit to her.

.

"I'm worried about Harley." Tim brings up during breakfast one day. "She's barely tried to escape Arkham at all this week."

Bruce passes Cass the salt, and bumps his visit up. "Hm."

.

"Bats." Harley greets, leant against the wall of her cell, shuffling playing cards. She's allowed to wear makeup, plenty of others do, but she has decided to forgo it. She looks almost naked without dramatic black shapes lining her eyes.

"Harley." He's quiet for a moment. "Any reason you're still in here?" They both know she could leave if she wanted to, she understands the security too well to be truly trapped.

"Where would I go?" She spits, tearing the two of hearts apart. "Joker don't want me, family acts like I'm dead already -" she sighs, all the vitriol draining from her. "Not pretty enough to turn tricks, I reckon."

"There's a bed in the Batcave." And Bruce leaves after five more minutes of stunned silence.

.

Harley is camped out on the cot they use for medicinal purposes. Someone's thrown a soft red blanket over her, and she's definitely using a spare cape folded up as a pillow. She still looks tired, but less so.

"I'm glad she's here." Jason says, as they cut off their motorbikes as quietly as possible. "I'm - I'm not exactly giddy to see her, y'know? I'm just glad she's here."

"Yeah," Bruce agrees. "Me too."

[britany1997]

Hiiii✨

Let me start by saying i love and enjoy your writing so muchhh and your content is just nddndjdndhdjegdu :'))

This is my first request so hope i am doing it at least decently so so so how about a mechanic/ motorbike enthusiast reader interacting with the lost boys, like they have a problem with one of the bikes and the reader comes up and is like "hey i can help let me just" and fixes it, and the boys are like 😶 we keeping this one ....

It could be a fem or gn reader !

Hope u like the idea and yet again thank you so much for existing ❤️❤️❤️

Rev Your Engines

Hi! Thank you so much for your kind words!!! Encouragement of my writing is always appreciated🥹🫶 I hope you like this! Sorry it took so long

Poly! Lost boys x GN Reader

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

David checked his watch as he tossed a drained corpse off the dock unceremoniously. “Five AM boys, sun rises in a little over an hour, time to head back.” He ordered.

Paul groaned, his fangs still deep in the neck of a tall brunette. He ripped his mouth free and disposed of the girl, “we have over an hour!” he argued, “it takes fifteen minutes tops to get back to the cave from the boardwalk.”

“Yeah,” Marko chimed in, “we’re wasting moonlight if we go back now.”

“We’re going now,” David said sternly, “the last time we risked it Paul was almost a pile of ash in a fishnet shirt, now let’s go.” With that, David snapped and gestured to the two blonds, prompting Dwayne to grab them both by the collar and drag them along the dock.

“I hate when he does this,” Marko told Paul grimacing.

“Uh, yeah,” Paul said while readjusting his pants.

Once the boys had arrived at the spot where their bikes were parked, the vampires each hopped on and reved their engines.

Except for Marko, whose bike seemed determined to strand him at the boardwalk. He stuck the key in the ignition and flipped the engine kill switch: nothing. The bike cranked but the engine wouldn’t start.

Marko growled in frustration, while David checked his watch

“We don’t have time for this,” David spit.

Marko glared at him, “it’s five-thirty David, calm your tits,” He countered.

Dwayne crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, “we may have a couple minutes before suns up, but we don’t have time for you to try and fail to fix your bike. Leave it,” he said.

Marko rolled his eyes and put his kickstand back down. “Well how the fuck am I supposed to get home then? I can’t walk now can I? And flying this close to sunrise is risky, even for me.”

“You can ride with me bud!” Paul chimed in.

Marko shot him a disgusted look, “ride bitch?” he asked, “yeah fat chance,” he grumbled.

“It’s either that or you burn up,” David shrugged.

“I’d rather die.” Marko said through gritted teeth.

David rolled his eyes and Dwayne pinched the bridge of his nose.

Marko groaned, “Paul, this is stupid, I’ll take your bike and you can ride on the back.”

“WHAT?!” Paul exclaimed as Marko attempted to pull him off the motorcycle, “dude it’s my bike!”

“Paul if you don’t move your ass I could die,” Marko told him frowning.

“Then perish,” Paul deadpanned.

Marko lunged at Paul, throwing him from his bike and pinning him to the ground. They rolled around on the boardwalk trading blows.

Dwayne and David looked on exasperated, as the chaos twins went at it. “We’re never gonna get home are we,” Dwayne asked.

David sighed in response.

You caught sight of the scene on your way back from your shift at the auto shop. Working the night shift meant you were usually met with a deserted wasteland of a boardwalk, instead of the flood of tourists and locals that regularly populated the spot.

Now you were faced with the image of two grown men rolling around on the ground together. You had to see what this was about.

You walked over and waved cautiously at the two calmer looking but obviously frustrated men. “Hey,” you greeted them, “what’s going on here, maybe I can help?” You offered.

Paul screamed as Marko bit his shoulder, prompting you to jump and step back, “or maybe I should just leave you to it…” you mumbled, concerned.

David turned his gaze from you back to Paul as he wrestled Marko into a headlock, but Dwayne noticed the grease smeared lightly on your face and staining your clothes, maybe you could help.

“Know anything about motorcycles?” he asked as he gestured towards Marko’s bike.

You smiled, “you’re in luck,” you told him, “I just got off a shift at Ocean Auto, I should be able to help you out.”

David’s gaze snapped up to look at you, “you can fix his bike?” He asked.

“I can sure try,” you replied, kneeling down to take a look as Dwayne pulled Paul and Marko off of each other.

You shrugged off your backpack and pulled out your toolbox. You opened the box and grabbed your multimeter, to check the battery.

The battery looked good so you moved on with your assessment. You removed one of the spark plugs and screwed in a compression tester.

Everything was turning up fine, but then realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You pulled out the bike’s air filter, only to find it just as you’d suspected, covered in dust and dirt.

You chuckled to yourself as you realized how stupidly simple the problem was. You turned to the four men, flashing them the filter.

“You’re gonna wanna soak this in some warm water and cleaner, but for now…” you trailed off as you pulled your water bottle from your bag. You sprayed the filter and wiped it with the bandana you kept in your back pocket.

You smiled as you handed it back to the curly blond man, “good as new…sort of,” you told him.

“Thanks,” Marko said as he popped the filter back into his bike and started his engine. “You’re a real life saver,” he told you.

“More than you know,” David mumbled to Dwayne.

As you packed up your stuff and stood to your feet, Paul slid an arm around your waist.

“Come here often sugar?” he asked you.

You blushed at his brazen attitude, “I’m here every morning, I work the night shift at the auto shop every day.” You told them.

“We’ll have to stop by sometime,” Dwayne said smiling, “but for now we’ve gotta go.”

David checked his watch, it was six AM, they were cutting it close. “C’mon boys,” he commanded, “let’s ride.”

You stepped back, getting the hint, “It was nice to meet you guys, see you around,” you waved as you walked off.

“Dibs,” Paul said, once you were out of earshot.

The other boys rolled their eyes as they all rode off into the night. This wasn’t the last they’d be seeing of you, not if they could help it.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

(I know I didn’t get to get into the romantic aspect of the Boys x Reader, so I’d be happy to write a part two for you if you want one when requests open back up!)

Taglist❤️:

@pixielostboy @its-freaking-bats @anna1306 @misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @solobagginses @heyriojude @6lostgirl6

[simmer-tia]

Do you wanna ride!?

Ash had to take Tia on the ride this time, so the next ride will be on her xD sure it will be the ride of his life... #Tia #Ash

thanks to creator:

*FREE

@dailycard's Ktm Superduke (Motorbike)

@dearkims's Love Me Right Deluxe Pose Set

@busra-tr's Biker Set Top & Bottom & Male Top & Male Bottom

@antosims's Jaime Hairstyle (Male) & Croft Hairstyle

@wistfulpoltergeist's Male Gloves

@kikovanitysimmer's Fresh Tips Gels (Nails)

*PATREON

@shoestopia's Guns Shoes & Nirvana Shoes

@klubbsims's Nepo Baby Rings

@bergdorfverse's Rolexes (Watches)

[metallestmanalive]

Hey tumblr

The gall fort is queen hesper's main residence in the badlands. It houses her court, and many events may be held there. Motorbikes are parked outside, and spears and other weapons line the entrance. Fires billow on top of the main wall and palm trees thrive on their ashes bellow. Idk about those moons/suns in the sky they're mostly there for fun atm

Ferrous lives in a derilect tower in a forgotten part of the gall fort. It's surrounded by foliage, and generally quite obscure. Nyth is sometimes able to drive here through some convoluted passage because she'll do anything for her wife, and ferrous throws down a rope for here made from his band shirts. Romantic!

His room is also pretty rough, he has one of those woven beds you sometimes see with haphazard cushions strewn about. Posters cover the cracks on his walls and there are candles everywhere that provide very little light. I want to draw his room properly, eventually.

Captain Moyra is here too, her design is alluding me atm because I kind of hate her horns now, they're just a pain. Also is she just going to be yellow now?? I dont know. but here she is with her goog (goose dog) they have the gentle temperament of a loyal dog but with the intimidation of the Canadian goose.

[lirondellee]

FINALLY!! OC ref sheets!!

Damian

Just a normal jackal guy who works at a bar, hates paying rent, has a motorbike, occasionally raises mortals from the dead and tries to create a garage band with a daughter of the head greek god

Melinoe

Vibes with ghosts more than people. And yes, magic and magik are different things in NAI universe, magic is what Immortals use naturally, while magik is a discipline, learned and actively used by the Coven

Ash & Hope

the ʎlsnoᴉɔᴉdsns perfect twins

✧—————<✧>—————✧

+ versions in Ukrainian

[lemonisntreal]

Do you have a Tone Deaf version of Clay Calloway?

(Perfectly fine if you don't. I was just curious, plus I love all your redesigns) 🦁🎸

SORRY THIS TOOK FUCKING FOREVER LMAO [been sitting in my inbox since FEBRUARY THIRTEENTH, HOLY SHIT :D]. YEAH, here he is :pppp a solid draft for you

Lowkey [highkey] gave up on the clothing wrinkles on the arms, but I still like how it turned out I think. I don't have much on him in terms of rewrite, but I do have some, so I'll dump it all here under the cut.

I swear I love asks, please feel free to say/ask whatever, I'm just horrible at answering in a reasonable time-frame because I always want to make it this beautiful masterpiece and end up turning all of them into full-on posts- or, at least I want to ~_~

Headcanonssss-

Ash gave him that button off her jacket [probably needs to be resized I'm realizing lol] [also I totally adopted this headcanon from someone elses post- might've been yours. Whoever came up with it I love it <3]

Born during the reformation that happened after the war- basically, nobody was really fighting anymore during this time, but some big people in power were still being stupid [aka: not letting their prisoners go]

So that would be somewhere around 1947? Which would put his age at 61 in my universe [which is in 2008- the times are pretty much random, nothing really lines up irl. Ignore how they use tech and other things that shouldn't have been invented yet lol]

He grew up when the Skunk Dolls were new and popular and stuff. And he loved them- so much that the band actually kinda inspired his music career

[Skunk Dolls also made loads of protest songs btw. War stuff]

Takes a ridiculous amount of care with his mane, and if he lets you touch it, that's a true sign of trust

So the Piglets always like to play with it, and Ash has given him braids a few times

He's had that scruffy red jacket since his early days

I should draw patches on it-

Ash probably'll give him a quill or two to put in it too with all the patches and repair stitches

He wears a lot of plaid, I just didn't wanna draw it <3

Rough and torn up clothes too

Everything he owns has some sort of smudge or tear in it from motorbiking and/or just being himself <3

His ears are pierced in almost every way imaginable, and when Ash found out, she went CRAZY

Cue her getting him to try on a bunch of stuff

He likes wrought iron jewelry and has never been a fan of anything with gemstones in it

Buster is terrified of him, but Clay is just kinda a blunt person and it doesn't mix well with Buster sometimes. They get along eventually tho. There was also some really bad timing with the circumstances of how they even met in the first place too lol-

Johnny is also. Super terrified.

Buster and him are like "Ahhh.... that guy scares the living daylights out of me." "Ohh, thank god it's not just me-"

He has a strange out-of-pocket interest in astrology.

And in herbology and plants in general, but he picked that up from Ruby. Astrology was all his, and it is the one thing he will "nerd out" over

Also the kind of guy to make fun of you for nerding out too

Making fun of people is his love language

So is giving people food

He's not great with his words and can find it hard to express love by just telling someone. Back to the bluntness thing, you can often find him accidentally offending someone and he doesn't even realize it

The troupe very quickly learned this and it's more of an endearing trait of his to them [and to most people who know him]

REALLY good cook. Fantastic, in fact. Probably one of the best chefs out of any of the characters.

Learned the hard way that enlisting Buster's help in the kitchen is a bad idea. Also Ash isn't great either, but he actually tries to teach her some of his recipes. And she's quickly improving

Buster was just being an idiot and forgot you shouldn't microwave tinfoil

Clay travels a lot, but spends most of his time in Calatonia [he technically still lives at his and Ruby's house, but he's super scared of accidentally closing himself off again, so he only visits to check up on the flowers and maintain the property pretty much]

He's like Ash's second [and very cool] dad. Which- also intimidates Buster quite a bit :D

I feel like their dynamic could be a sitcom. Clay is Ash's awesome dad and Buster is Ash's lame [endearing] and oddly unhinged and anxious dad who feels like he has to be as cool as Clay [and always fails heehee]

Clay is more entertained by Buster's ridiculous criminal record than horrified and I don't know if that's worrying or just a classic Calloway W

He's a very nonchalant person

Ruby's death is the only time I can really think he had a legitimate emotional break that wasn't just him being snappy [which is also pretty rare]

Clay's also like an uncle to the Piglets

He's kinda just taken up the role of "super awesome miscellaneous family member" for everyone at this point

He's back performing again after Sing 2- just not frequently or putting out any new songs [on his own at least- he might do a collaboration or two with Ash]

[fallingawkwardly]

what's your favourite thing about each of the main chymicalia characters? and do you have a favourite child? :'D

Yan, you're one of, like, four people who've finished the game, I want to know what you think about the characters, and who's your favourite! Thank you for asking, though...

Anna is incapable of moderation, and I love that for her. She is trying to do everything, all the time. She is feeling every emotion to the absolute maximum, hurtling from one end of the scale to the other every few seconds. She is so clearly 3 to 6 months away from the hugest mid-twenties burn-out you've ever seen in your life, but out of the ashes of her political disillusion, she's gonna rebuild herself as one of the most bad-ass lesbian anarchists in history, and the world is not ready. She should totally get that motorbike.

Bern. Oh, Bern. Love to see a classic, dour Yorkshireman. Love to see a 32-year-old guy who's clinging to the dour Yorkshireman archetype like it's the last plank from the shipwreck of his youthful dreams, because at least then people won't expect him to be cheerful about it. Love to see him say things like, "Mustn't grumble" through gritted teeth. Love to see his thousand-yard stare, as he mentally takes someone apart at the joints for telling him, "It Gets Better!!!" Love to see occasional glimpses of fragments of his soul he thinks he's drowned, rising and falling behind his eyes, like half-dead tropical fish. This metaphor is getting out of hand, but as a literature graduate, Bern would appreciate the thematic effort.

My favourite thing about Nimone might be the dumb little gimmick of her clip-on sunglasses. Because at first you think she's all cool and goth and mysterious, but then she flicks them up to reveal her thick lenses and deer-in-the-headlights expression, and it's like... oh! She's just a huge nerd! Who is so totally out of her depth, once the conversation gets beyond the narrow radius of her comfort zone. It's okay, Nim. It's over, they've gone. You can go back inside your van, now and spend the next 48 hours recovering from the social and sensory hell of standing in full sunlight, talking to a stranger for five minutes.

Voss has one of my favourite traits in a character, which is "humour as defence mechanism". Aw yeah, babe, deflect that personal question with an exaggerated lie for comic effect. Self-deprecate to defuse criticism in advance, that's so hot. Never say how you really feel about anything, keep the bit running instead. Commit to it harder than you've done to any job, school, friendship or relationship, which is definitely not* why you've been constantly crashing and burning on them your entire life. It's okay, it's fine. You can just keep getting new ones, with your charming personality and hilarious witticisms!

(*This is true. It's only 20% of why. The other 80% would be the undiagnosed ADHD, dyslexia and dyscalculia.)

Last character I'm gonna talk about is the player character, who you can name yourself, but I refer to as the Alchemist. You can mould their personality through gameplay via raising or lowering 12 character trait-type stats, but their past life and current situation is set in stone, and... oh, wow. This is bad. This is... really bad. Your character has the kind of life story that stops conversations dead and makes people immediately treat you like a leper, because no one really has a social script for talking normally about it. So maybe it's for the best that you can't talk about it - because you're literally cursed not to. Literally. Yeah, it's cartoonish, honestly.

The result, though, is perhaps my favourite thing about the Alchemist. Chymicalia is, structurally speaking, a helping-customers game. It's supposed to be the customers who have the problems, and the calm, bartender-style protagonist who has the tools to fix them, help them, save them, all that stuff. But here, it's... complicated. Because as the game proceeds, it becomes more and more obvious that the person here who REALLY needs help, is you. But... there's no mechanic for that! You can't use alchemy on yourself. You can't tell anyone about your problems. For a million overlapping reasons, you can't ask for help. You don't even believe it's possible for you to be helped. And in a game where you spend all your time trying to needle other people into spilling all their personal problems to you, and trying (successfully or unsuccessfully) to fix them, that's delicious.

Finally, you can't ask me to have a favourite child. That's illegal. So I'll pick my favourite non-major character: Yaz, the Worst Librarian. I have been, and still am, a librarian. Yaz is where I put all my evil fantasies, the things librarians aren't supposed to say or do, like let people steal things, or have Incorrect Opinions about the value of books. Plus, she's the funniest character in the game, and unlike Voss, she's not even trying.

[PLEASE ASK ME MORE QUESTIONS ABOUT MY GAME, ANY QUESTIONS!]