#need to write some of these someday

[feroluce]

For me, as much as I adore the theme of travel companions, henghill is more of a "someday" thing in that regard. I love Boothill being a weird loner Galaxy Ranger rather than a Nameless- man is undomesticated and belongs sleeping in the cargo holds of supply ships, threatening silence out of anyone that tries to report him. Let him be wild and free!!

I would LOVE it if Boothill just hitched a short ride off Asdana to whatever the Express' next destination is, though!

Like maybe the Express decides to stick around Penacony for a while, the same way they do other destinations, and Boothill is there anyway to investigate Oswaldo Schneider. It's rare to find a planet where the IPC is present, but doesn't actually have a lot of power; he can't pass this opportunity up!

And in that time, he sees a lot of Dan Heng.

Boothill gets text messages asking him to the quieter parts of the Dreamscape (he threatened and made a scene - it's called standing up for your rights, Dan Heng was given a room with a Dreampool by The Family for helping root out The Order) or mostly to the Express, where Dan Heng curiously asks him about Paths, about aeons and Emanators, The Rangers, all the worlds he's seen and places he's been.

Boothill isn't really surprised the first time they spend an entire night talking and discussing- after all, they'd chattered a lot that first day they met at the bar in the Reverie! But in talking so much, of course the topic of home comes up.

Dan Heng asks about Boothill’s homeworld.

Boothill tells Dan Heng it's gone now, and changes the subject.

Boothill asks about Dan Heng's past, before the Astral Express and the Nameless.

Dan Heng freezes up and closes off, and changes the subject.

In yet another moment of tacit understanding, neither of them ask again.

But this continues, all throughout their stint in Penacony, finding each other and seeking the other out for no reason other than good company. Dan Heng adds ridiculous amounts of data to the archives that Boothill dictates to him. They both know he could get that information elsewhere if he really wanted. Boothill finds he's kinda happy he doesn't.

And Boothill is someone who's hard to keep up with. He knows he is, and he has no problem with it. It's part of what makes him excel as a Galaxy Ranger. But there's something fun about how Dan Heng just rolls with it, and so effortlessly! Boothill finds something shady going on, grabs a guy who was preying on people, and has this dude held up by the collar with his feet swinging while he cackles right in his face, when Dan Heng shows up.

Boothill says they're just having a friendly chat. He makes zero effort to hide what he's actually doing. Boothill's new friend pleads for Dan Heng to help him, please! This guy's crazy!

Dan Heng materializes his spear.

The guy apologizes even harder, tells them he won't do anything shady ever again, promise, promise! Boothill's jabbers at him and shakes him around some more before Dan Heng taps the pole of his spear against the covered metal of Boothill's leg and tells him come on, he's already scared the man witless, they have a date to keep. Boothill drops the guy and watches him scurry off like a cockroach.

"So, now it's a date, huh?"

"...Come on, let's go."

They go to the Dreamflux Reef after that, because Boothill just so happened to totally by coincidence find that shady guy's wallet (read: robbed him blind) and he wants that money to go back to the native Penaconians before anyone else. Dan Heng follows, and stuffs all of the man's credits into the tip jar of the bar they go to.

And even when the Express embarks anew from Asdana (with Boothill hidden away in some corner or compartment, because the IPC finally got pissed enough to start looking for him under The Family's noses skzikske) this continues. The next planet is difficult to get to because of Stellaron activity; so they have to fly manually part of the way instead of warping. Boothill doesn't get his own room since he's only hitching a ride, but Pom-Pom graciously allows him to sleep on a couch-

("Thank ya, Fluffy. No hard feelings about before, right?" "You're lucky my other passengers like you. And no shoes on the couches!!")

-in one of the cars. And it becomes normal commonplace to find Boothill telling stories, and Dan Heng rapidly writing them all down, at obscene hours in the parlor car while Himeko and Welt ask if either of them even slept.

Boothill teaches Dan Heng all about his favorite drinks and liquor in general, how to aim and shoot a gun, how to hunt and track prey. Dan Heng teaches Boothill about a lot of the teachings of Lan and The Hunt from the Xianzhou, what it's like there, some of the culture, some of the fables and old tales.

Boothill still leaves when it's time to go. He's still got things to do and people to kill, after all.

But it never feels like he's very far. The archives are full of him, even if he's never mentioned by name. The article on the Galaxy Rangers is several times longer than it was before. There's new data on multiple planets and worlds.

There's one that's still just a header and title. Boothill doesn't know about it yet. Dan Heng hopes he can fill the page on Aeragan-Epharshel someday and show it to him.

And even if he doesn't stay, he does return. Boothill breaks in stops by any time he happens to be nearby. He's used to traveling without much rest, and only takes what he can easily carry on him- nothing that can slow him down or hinder him. He can't put a bullet between Oswaldo Schneider's eyes if he gets himself killed over something as stupid as being weighed down in a fight, after all.

Dan Heng is similarly sparse. He still sleeps in the archives, with nothing but his futon and old suitcase to mark the space as his.

But there's an old wooden guitar carefully propped in the corner, just waiting for its owner's return.

[wonder-worker]

Wild how we know that Elizabeth Woodville was officially appointed to royal councils in her own right during her husband’s reign and fortified the Tower of London in preparation of a siege while 8-months pregnant and had forces gathering at Westminster “in the queen’s name” in 1483 – only for NONE of these things to be even included, let alone explored, in the vast majority of scholarship and historical novels involving her.

[lis5664]

I really need to be asleep right now but instead, I was thinking about the concept of an IAC fic from the perspective of the bartender(s) observing Margo and Sergei over the years. And I was suddenly struck with the following: 1992 in Margo’s hotel room, everything proceeds as in canon up to the point when there’s a knock at the door. But it isn’t the KGB, it’s hotel staff there to confront them over that stolen bottle of whiskey. Various hijinks ensue.

[renirae]

FABLEHAVEN MOVIE IS REAL??? oh my god that is my FAVOURITE book series. please god I hope it ends up being good <3

(I'm keeping my expectations very low of course lmao, I've been burned wayyy too many times by bad movie adaptations. but honestly I'll just be happy if it brings more people into reading the book series!!

other than one or two things (*cough cough the horrific disaster of Brackendra cough cough*) it's such a SEVERELY underrated series and one of the only childhood favourites of mine that has actually held up enough that I enjoy rereading it to this day!!!) (also hands-down the best inclusion of indigenous peoples into worldbuilding that I've ever seen, which is really cool!!)

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

if i EVER claim that i am not in the mood for a cozy msr oneshot, that is NOT ME!!! the alien bounty hunter has taken my form! please insert that needle of green goo directly into the base of my neck❤️

[mydogatemymotivation]

I feel like fem!Kallus has curly hair. Kallus lets his hair go as a rebel, not slicking it back anymore and I feel like the female design equivalent is not straightening her hair to fit imperial regulation and letting it be curly and frizzy and a little bit messy.

[wordsofwilderness]

Not me looking at my notes for to smut scenes that are basically right after each other and seeing that both revolves around James having his head between Regulus' thighs.

I was just like, oh silly me I accidentally got the same idea twice, let me just combine these.

But NO, one is James edging Regulus with a blowjob and the other is James eating Regulus out featuring some overstimulation. Those are clearly not at all the same.

[ragsy]

"Arguments best heard through the wall of a neighboring apartment" | ~1,700 words

Exploring some of the tension between Kenny and his daughter Emily, aka "guess who just got yeeeeelled aaaaaaat"! This takes place a few weeks after Alice beats the shit out of him and destroys the cursed tape recorder.

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

"You can't be serious."

Emily had slipped her glasses off at the sight of her father's apartment, massaging the bridge of her nose, tightening her lips in defeated acceptance. Her worry lines etched themselves ever deeper between her brows.

Kenneth said nothing. Her reaction was justified. The place was a disaster.

At least he'd had the forethought to hide most of the clutter away in his bedroom: gutted cassettes and tape players, patents, schematics, repair manuals. But, the scribbled impressions of other worlds still papered his walls in slapdash rows. His cabinets and doors sat in unhinged stacks on his floor. A sheet was slung over his vanity mirror. There was still blood in his carpet.

All the same, she stepped across the threshold and shut the door behind herself. She was here for a reason.

"Sorry for the mess," he tried. A wary step onto sheet ice. His voice crackled a little. "Can I, ah, can I make you some tea?"

Emily sighed, swept a lock of hair behind her ear, crossed her arms.

"It's-... Fine." She shook her head. "Yeah. Sure, thanks."

Well, it wasn't a condemnation. It was barely even a critique. He might have considered that a win if it weren't for the edge of pity in her voice, a sharp prick that might not bleed, but still itched in the back of his mind for hours.

Kenneth busied himself in the kitchen, starting the kettle and fishing the last clean mug from the depths of his door-less cupboard. This was another area of his apartment that had descended into chaos, but at least mounds of dirty dishes in the sink were a completely mundane sort of disarray.

"So, then," Emily began, brushing an invisible crumb from the cushion of his sofa and seating herself. "I'm here. What's so urgent?"

Urgent? He rolled back their last phone call in his head. Had he sounded urgent?

"Oh, no, it wasn't-... I had just heard that you were in the area."

Emily frowned.

"For a work conference," she said curtly. She folded her hands in her lap. "An hour away."

"I-... Yes," he faltered. "Yes, I know that, but..."

Emily took a long, deep breath, and Kenneth swallowed the rest of his words.

"But?" she prodded.

"W-well, listen, it's almost the holidays. And I haven't seen you since the Las Vegas trip." He hadn't seen much of anyone since then. He kept that fact to himself.

She began to speak, and instead turned her head to contemplate the sketches pinned to the wall near her: An imposing ziggurat, constructed brick by brick with lovingly rendered grandfather clocks. Next to it, a dark and serpentine hallway. Next to that, a perfectly normal bowling alley. Across from that, the artist himself, nervously fumbling open a tea bag.

She studied him. The keen eye of a critic, picking apart his performance, his affectation, his presence. He was a far cry from the tidy, even-tempered man who had raised her. To her, he still had yet to earn back the role of Kenneth Song.

"Since the Las Vegas trip," Emily echoed. "Yeah." If she still thought about what she had seen there, she never mentioned it to anyone.

Then, after another breath, "That's all? You just wanted to say 'hi'?"

"No, not-... I mean, not necessarily—"

"Then what am I here for?"

"It's... Nice to see you occasionally. Is that so wrong?"

The room grew achingly silent, underscored by thudding upstairs-neighbor footfalls and the occasional jangle of keys in the hallway. A dog barked. A door slammed. From somewhere in the bowels of the apartment complex, a one-man shower opera reverberated through the plumbing. But here, in Kenneth's apartment, the world stood still.

Finally, a chipper little jingle from the kettle pierced the stillness as it signaled its job well done. Kenneth filled Emily's mug and set it on the coffee table. She sighed a small "Thanks," though the drink remained untouched.

There was room for him beside her on the couch. Even so, he pulled up a chair and seated himself opposite her.

She furrowed her brow, smoothing out a wrinkle from her shirt sleeve. "Okay, I'll bite. What happened?" A snake striking from the grass.

Kenneth choked and stared back at her. "I-... E-excuse me? What do you mean?"

She gestured toward the brightly colored cast that encased his wrist.

"To your arm. What happened?"

"My-... Oh." A tiny sigh of relief as the focus of her interrogation narrowed. His other hand drifted over the course plaster, his palm resting over its curvature, as if to shield it. He took a breath, a futile attempt at calming his racing pulse. "It was a-... It was an accident."

Emily's gaze bored into him, hunting him for information, a tell, a flinch.

"Of course it was an accident. Who breaks their arm on purpose?" She laughed a little, though it carried a lilt of frustration. "But what happened?"

"I-... Well. It doesn't matter. It will heal." Kenneth waved the thought away, and dared to meet her eyes. Beneath her fierce expression, they were the same warm brown as his. "Now, how have things been with you? How is your fiancé? Matthew?"

"Did you fall? What happened to your cane?" Emily plowed forward. She always preferred a take-no-prisoners approach. "You didn't have it with you in Vegas, either."

"Sweetheart, please. Can we change the subject?" Futile. Bargaining with his daughter had only ever been successful once, when it was a matter of convincing a seven-year-old to eat broccoli.

"God, you do this every time. You don't want to tell me. Is that it?"

"No, no, I-... It's-..."

"Look, if you need help, you have to say so. I'm not a mind reader. When was the last time you saw a doctor?"

"I'm doing fine." Spoken through clenched molars. Why did this feel so familiar?

Emily narrowed her eyes, brushing away another lock of hair. There was an unignorable glint of silver at her temples.

"Does it have anything to do with your—" Emily began. Kenneth braced himself as she trailed off, searching for the right word. "—paranormal friends?"

It was one of the nicer ways she could have put it. He winced anyway.

"There was a.... Disagreement. I-... m-made a mistake. And I broke my wrist."

"So they were involved?" She leaned forward, fingers steepled.

"Emily, please," he begged. There was a waver in his voice. "Can't we just have a pleasant conversation? Why don't you tell me about work?"

"Talk. Or I'm leaving."

Kenneth drew a sharp breath, then sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. He wouldn't look at her.

"You won't believe the full story."

"I'll be the judge of that." And jury. And executioner.

"You didn't believe me the last time I tried explaining it."

"I didn't believe you because you weren't telling the truth."

"Not telling the— Emily, honey, I have never lied to you!"

"Never?"

"I swear!"

"Then talk. You invited me here, and something is clearly wr-... Going on with you." She was standing now, with her hands on her hips. She was not a woman of stature, but she loomed over him like a thunderhead. "I need you to stop dodging my questions and tell me what's happening."

Kenneth's head spun. He was on the back foot, and she was out for blood.

"I don't know how to explain it to you."

"Tell me what's happening."

"Emily, please."

"TELL ME. WHAT'S HAPPENING."

"Alright! Fine! The truth! Nothing but the truth! Just like you want it!" He rose from his seat now, his arms thrown into the air in exasperation. "I took something I shouldn't have, and it changed— It changed everything. I ruined everything."

He swallowed, and let the room fill with silence. In that moment, every breath in the building was held.

"There are things in the world, things that are-- Oh, Emily, things I could never in a million years explain. But that song-- It was so beautiful. It was magic. Don't you understand? Magic, Emily. "

"No," said Emily, through bared teeth. "No, we've been through this."

"You've seen it. All around you. At the casino, when Charlie— A-and that entire side of the family— And when I was gone— And when I came back—"

He paced the length of the room, trembling hands running through his hair, gesturing wildly, grasping at air.

"It's right in front of you; why don't you see it? How can I make you understand?"

"Stop."

Now he was facing her. For a split second, he might have seen a flash of horror across her face.

"That song— That tape recorder— It's broken, I've been trying to fix it, maybe if I fix it--"

"Let go."

"You wanted the truth. Look at me. Magic is real. I can show you. You can learn. I can teach you— Just like your mother taught me!"

"Let. Go."

"Let go of what—" No sooner than the words left his mouth, he looked down. There was his hand: clenched in a vice grip around her forearm. There was her face, livid with fear and rage. There was his heart, pounding in his throat. He pried his grasp open and staggered backwards. His foot caught the leg of the abandoned chair, and he crashed to the floor.

He gasped. "I'm sorr—"

"Don't."

Emily rubbed her eyes in denial of the tears that had welled there, though her voice remained steady.

"I'm done. I'm not doing this again." She brushed herself off and strode toward the door.

"I don't understand— I'm sorry—" A fruitless attempt at picking himself up from the ground.

"Oh my god." Her hand was on the doorknob. "You seriously don't remember, do you?"

"I—"

"We've had this fight before."

"Emily—"

"It was the last time I talked to you before you disappeared." The door was open.

"Sweetheart, please, listen to me—"

"Bye, dad."

She latched the door behind her. It was a soft, unassuming punctuation. The next time they spoke was still too soon. At least they could agree on that.

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello love, how are you?

I know you have done a couple of this already, but may i ask for one where Thena is suffering because of her period and Gil is being a good boyfriend and taking care of her, pretty please.

Also thank you for all your works they are amazing 🩷🤍.

"Thena?"

He didn't get any response as he cracked the door open even further. Which, he wouldn't under any normal circumstance. But not only was this bathroom at an end of the school that no one ever used, he had gotten an inside tip.

"Babe, I know you're in here," he broached carefully. She wasn't in here for no reason.

"Get out."

There she was. But it didn't have her usual sharpness. Plenty of acerbic distaste, certainly, but it had a kind of morose undertone to it.

Gil pressed the door closed behind him, "come on, sweetheart. Sersi sent me."

There was a stall door between them, but he could hear the look of betrayal on her face. "That little-"

"Hey," he assuaged, pressing his palm to the painted steel. "She's at the mall with Dane--who I know damn well you wouldn't want knowing about this, too."

"Whom," she corrected him, although even that lacked her usual gusto. "And that doesn't mean you were the acceptable alternative."

"Thena," he attempted in a sweeter voice. He looked down at the feet under the stall's gap. He had some sympathy; he didn't think of it as nearly so big a deal, but there were probably few things more personal to a girl than this. "Is it bad?"

She took her sweet time answering him, and even when she did, it came out as a miserable little warble. "I can see it a little."

A little would be enough. Especially if she was wearing white jeans.

"Do you know when it started?" he asked, in he thought was a pretty calm and cool way--logical, as his girlfriend would most appreciate.

She sighed (heavily). "After, or maybe even during practice. I managed to slip away from the team."

Gil frowned. Wasn't it, like, girl code not to leave one of their own in this state of distress? "You didn't wanna ask one of them-"

"I wouldn't say I'm that close with any of them," Thena spat. He didn't think she had any real dislike for them, either. But then again, his girlfriend didn't excel at vulnerability, and maybe this was too much for her to even turn to her fellow woman.

She had texted Sersi in blind hopes that her sister was close at hand.

"Okay, here," Gil sighed, pulling up the bag he had with him. He looked up, and then down, "do these doors have hooks on the inside?"

"You think our school has the luxury of something like that?"

Okay, yeah, she had a point. He huffed, "well, I dunno, so you don't have to put your bag or purse or whatever on the floor?"

"I'm not saying it's not a good idea, Gil, but no, they don't have that."

She really was feeling like absolute shit.

"Okay," he gave in easily. He set the bag on the ground and used his foot to slide it in to her. She did snatch it away from his gaze eagerly. "Sersi didn't say which one you liked, so I got a little pack of both, and-"

"Thank you--out."

He sighed again, but there wasn't much more he could do for her at this point. "Okay, okay, but I'm gonna be right outside the door."

"You don't have to, Gil."

He made a face at the stall door again, not that she could appreciate it. "I'm not gonna leave you like this."

"You could, though."

He didn't even really have anything he could compare it to--what she must be feeling at the moment. And for someone who struggled to talk about her own discomfort like she did... "I'm sorry, Thena."

It was so, so quiet. But he caught it--the little sniffle. The telltale sign that her misery was not just mere anger or frustration.

"There's no need, Gil," she tried to dissuade him again, more genuinely and less angrily this time.

"Babe, you know I've eaten you out, right," he commented rather dryly, "it's not like I can get freaked out by your period."

"That's-!" For however strong it started, it gave way to her misery not a second later, finishing in a whimper, "different."

She was right, it was different. But he was trying! He just wanted to make her feel better.

"I'll be outside," he reaffirmed to her door, pressing himself to it as if she would know he was trying to comfort her like that. "And I'm not leaving without you, so don't even try it."

"Fine."

Gil pulled himself away from the door slowly. He lingered, in case she was going to change her mind and tell him to stay. But she made not even a sound, which wasn't even that easy to do with the crinkly plastic pharmacy bag he'd brought in.

He had even had the wherewithal to ask them to double bag it, for privacy reasons! He thought that was a pretty smart move, on his part. He had gotten both tampons and pads, which maybe was a little overkill. But he didn't want her to get stuck with one if she was more comfortable with the other. And he'd thrown in some pain meds and some chocolate, just for good measure.

Gil leaned against the wall outside the bathroom door. They were at the very end of the hall, by the door that led straight to the fields. Now that all the practices were over, no one would be down here until teachers left or cleaning staff came to do their thing.

His heart ached for his poor Thena, imagining her discovering the blood and too uncomfortable around her teammates to ask for help with it. He wasn't entirely sure where her ire with them started, or if it was for Thena reasons or something else. But the fact that she had slipped away from them to endure the misery for herself spoke to how solitary a creature she really was.

He stood up straight as the door opened and Thena emerged with the bag in the crook of her elbow. She was staring straight down at the ground. "How do you feel?"

"Humiliated."

Gil smiled down at the top of her head as she headbutted him right in the chest. He didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her hair.

His first instinct was to say something to lighten her mood, maybe a joke or something. But he felt the faint but real little spots of warmth in the cotton of his t-shirt. He rubbed her back, "it's okay."

Thena had never, ever, cried in front of him. Not even when she told him about Ikaris laughing at her for being a virgin. He was still determined to kick that guy's ass one day.

She pulled away, rubbing her eyes to erase the last of her woes for herself. "Thank you."

"Of course," he frowned. Like he was doing some great thing by helping her out with this? It was pretty basic boyfriend stuff, he was pretty sure. "You know I mean that, right?"

"I know," she grumbled, and there was some of his Thena starting to emerge. She stepped away from him, her arms wrapped around herself.

"You want me to, uh," he tilted his head, "check if you're good?"

"I would rather die."

He chuckled; now that was his Thena.

"Just," she mumbled out, embarrassment written all over her. "Give me your sweater.

He did so in an instant, pulling his black hoodie off his shoulders and wrapping it around her. She extended her arms on her own, threading them through the sleeves smoothly. He made sure it sat on her shoulders and then gave the bottom a tug to verify that it did indeed cover well beyond her (cute) butt.

She looked at him as she started pushing the sleeves up.

"Lookin' good," he grinned at her with a wink.

She rolled her eyes at him, but the way she let him take her hand told him she was still feeling a little shitty about everything. "Take me home?"

"You got it," he assured as gently as he could. As much as he wanted to offer to take her out and do something fun, it wasn't about what he wanted. And if she wanted to wallow in her misery for the night he would ask and beg and plead to join her in that misery. "You know-"

Thena didn't even turn her head, just gave him one hell of a side eye.

But he smiled, braving on for the love of his young life. "As I keep reminding you, I am in this for real, babe. Like, real deal, long haul-"

"Yes, yes, you have said," she sighed, although he could see her starting to smile again.

He gave her hand a squeeze. "It's not like I was never gonna be around for...something like this."

It showed on Thena's face just how much she appreciated his delicacy with it, even after the fact.

"It's not a big deal--not to me, at least," he shrugged, hoping he was saying the right thing. All he could hope was that she was really hearing him and getting how much he meant it. "And if you ever needed help like this again--just call me, okay? Text me, email me if you have to."

She laughed at the suggestion, but all he needed to see was that cute smile, showing off her teeth. She had a cute laugh, too.

"I'll be there, Thena," he finished, pouring his heart into it. "In a heartbeat."

"I know, Gil." Well, that was the end of that. It wasn't up for discussion anymore, and he would be pushing his luck to try and continue it.

But he happily let her release his hand, only so she could wrap her arms around his one and press her face into his t-shirt sleeve. "You gonna let me carry that bag for you?"

"No."

"Okay, fine," he chuckled. Whatever she wanted--needed. Anything at all. He looked down at her as they continued down the hall, taking their good, sweet time. "Thena, I-"

"I hope," she prefaced, giving his arm an extra squeeze, "you're not about to say something I wouldn't want to hear on arguably the worst day of my life."

Okay, so not the time for an I-Love-You. Their first, he had to keep reminding himself, no matter how many times he had already imagined saying it to her.

"Yeah, no, totally," he mumbled, resigning himself to keeping it in again.

"Just-" Thena pressed herself even closer to him. "Just wait a little longer."

He looked down at the top of her head again (since she wasn't up to looking at him yet, apparently). But she didn't have to ask; he was going to wait for her until the day he died, he had already decided.

It wasn't even really up to him. Somewhere along the way, he had fallen beyond the point of no return, and he would do anything - literally anything! - for her.

Thena let him kiss her forehead as they continued shuffling along, the hum of the fluorescents and the crinkling of the bag offering a soundtrack to their quiet moment.

"Y'know, I heard baths are good for cramps. We could-"

"Not a chance, Gil."

[jihnari]

this is how i spent my week 🤡 (pure html/css mock of a character's phone notifications)

i added in the "notification settings" and "clear" buttons for accuracy, and then had the terrible thought "but what if the clear button cleared the notifications"

it does that now! i dont want to talk about how long it took to get it to do that. but. it does that now ✨

[askfallenroyalty]

Not that I needed a NEW project to work on but... Here's my Underfell take. Let's see where this goes.

[proosh]

also. since u guys asked for it: centaur Gil

he's calling you a sicko for being into this, btw

(full uncensored version over on my twt)

[bmpmp3]

*clangs pots and pans together* ITS 1 AM!!!!! EVERYONE COME LISTEN TO MY SVS2 TESTS

(svp by harujpg)

[avon7ade]

. . .

[prismatic-starstuff]

What I Want To Do: make an analysis on how HAL 9000 achieved status as a legendary film villain while he's actually the Space Odyssey series's most tragic victim, write multiple fanfictions where he's loved and cherished and taken care of the way he deserves to be, consider the many ways this deeply complex and fascinating character can be interpreted based on the books and the film and admire how each and every interpretation is wonderful

What My Brain Gives Me Every Time I Try To Do Any Of These Things: h-haaaaaaaaal,,, hhhhhhhal my beloved,,,,,, precious sweetheart,,,,,,,,, i rotate him slowly in my brain and hold him gentle like halburger,,,,,,,,,,,,

[redlyriumidol]

I'll be real I have very little intention of playing veilguard atp haha. I'll probably watch someone play through it on youtube and maybe pick it up eventually when it's cheaper. I have been watching a few random bits though, specifically Dorian and Isabela's appearances. The ache in my heart hearing the voice of my beloved Isabela but also girl... the writing.... the dialogue..... I know I need to properly judge for myself at some point in order to be objective, and I'm sure some parts/characters are better than others. I'm sure there are good things about the game don't get me wrong.

But I just have a feeling it would be a pretty big letdown, as someone who has always really really admired and been heavily influenced by the quality of the character writing in dragon age. I almost prefer... not to know, you know? Like if I never play it dragon age can still be good in my mind haha