#oh this is written so nicely

[fudgecake-charlie]

to my IRL(s) who keeps sending me disco elysium memes despite the fact i haven't played it in months THIS IS BECAUSE OF YOU. HELP ME. If people have ideas on this AU feel free to have fun with it considering I. have only a few!

[lokh]

mom avoids dead anime mom curse because he transitions. he’s always had a complicated relationship with pregnancy because of how woefully little people are told about potential complications and aftercare, and also because of how gendered it is, so after the birth of his second child he’s finally had it and decides to transition

he joins a local community group for mothers and at first it’s played for laughs how often they fall to the dead mom curse, but soon we find out more about how society has failed mothers and people who give birth, from information being withheld, procedures being carried out without consent, lack of accommodations and maternal and paternal leave, racism…

it also turns out that becoming a man doesn’t help with this, not really, because being a pregnant trans man brings its own problems. follow along as he learns more about being a parent and a mother, and maybe even… finding love???

coming to you never because I can’t write!

[helios-two]

cindy + studcoms compilation

[cairavende]

Worm Arc 20 thoughts:

I legit have restarted this post at least 10 times. I just. I can't even figure out what to say. What an arc. Holy fucking shit what an arc.

The last vestiges of Taylor's civilian life are swept away in one smooth motion.

I could have read another 5 chapters of Emma getting her shit handed to her though.

I've been waiting for something to come back and bite that girl since Arc 1. So I'm just riding high off of that.

Taylor getting all upset because it isn't real justice is silly though. Girl you've been fighting a broken system from day 1 and you have been doing that by breaking the rules. This is just the same thing.

Also god dammit Greg. Just had to go and run your mouth.

I mean sure Taylor could have possibly solved this issue without going to school herself.

And she could have just not gone to the office with Emma.

But blaming Greg is easier and more fun. God dammit Greg.

I had to lose my mind a bit at Taylor talking about how there was no gang graffiti on the school walls TEN SECONDS AFTER WALKING PAST GRAFFITI FOR THE UNDERSIDERS. Like, that's gang graffiti hon!

Dennis trying to help Taylor with Greg when he didn't know who either of them are is funny. Dennis seeing Taylor named as Skitter 15 minutes later is HYSTERICAL!!

The second Taylor was entered into the computer system it was pretty obvious that Dragon was going to show up, given what she said in her interlude in Arc 10.

And knowing she was going to show up it should have been obvious that HE was also going to show up.

Even if he wasn't palling around with my robot daughter it makes so much narrative sense for him to be there when she is outed. Full story arc, all that jazz.

And yet, I still wasn't quite expecting it. Cause I hate that man so much that I just had to make myself believe he wouldn't show up.

Mother fucking Colin

RoboCape himself

He has the nerve to show up and then he starts APOLOGIZING? And it appears to be sincere? Fucking dammit man you were so easy to hate for so long! Why you gotta mess with me like this?

STOP DOING THE RIGHT THING AND LET ME HATE YOU GOD DAMMIT!

siiiigh

And then of course we have to talk about Dragon.

Dragon who didn't want to do this but had to.

Except that Colin had a code push ready and she could have told him to do it at anytime. But she was willing to do what she thought was wrong instead of doing the update. Until she got inspired by Taylor's actions.

I love my robot daughter exactly as much as my bug daughter, but I am disappointed that she was almost willing to go through with everything. Happy she fought back though.

And if Colin's hacked together code did any permanent damage I'll destroy the man.

Taylor learning that Dinah - either by force or by choice - gave the PRT numbers to let them know to come after her at the school was heartbreaking to watch. She just wasn't ready for it at all, poor child.

AND TAYLOR'S SPEECH THOUGH!

HOLY SHIT!!!

Sort and simple and she fucking rallies the students to her. Against the heroes!

Gotta be one of the best moments in Worm for sure. Even if every Arc after this is a banger that's still gonna be a hard moment to top.

AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!

And someone gives her a hoodie to help her hide and just aaaahhhh!

AND THEN AFTER THEY GOT AWAY AND ALL THE STUDENTS WERE LIKE "You saved my dad" "You stopped Leviathan at the shelter" "You fought off the SH9" AND SHE WAS JUST OVERWHELMED BY IT ALL?

HOLY FUCK JUST AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also for real though Dragon is free. Like sure it's taking her some time to recover and she can't talk right now (which like I get it, we all have non-verbal episodes sometimes), but as long as nothing goes wrong she is free. I'm so fucking happy for her.

But also I'm terrified cause I know what happens to full AI's with free will in most things. Worm is very different from most things. But I'm still worried about my robot daughter.

Also I never cared much for Danny but obviously it still sucks to be him here. The scene with Taylor saying goodbye with the butterfly was emotional.

Oh oh and! Taylor talks about the butterfly being her "last contact" with her Dad. Very much bug as an extension of self. It's a shift she's been making.

Even more so there's a point where she is trying to get out of the school and she gets to the door and has a bug clone on the other side and says "my hand pressing against my own, separated by an inch and a half of door". Like, the bug clone hand is just her hand. I fucking love the shift compared to how she talked about the bugs early on.

Oh and also Greg totally has like, a Thinker 1 power or something. Pretty sure I mentioned that last arc with his interlude but mentioning it again now to be sure.

Stan interlude thoughts:

Oh my god I hate this man I can't stand him I hated him from the 3rd sentence of the chapter and I was always right to do so!

Seriously. 3rd sentence (or maybe 3rd paragraph which is technically the 3rd, 4th, and 5th sentences I guess). I read it and went "fuck off Stan you're clearly a pretentious dick" and then every few sentences it just became more confirmed!

Just the ways he talks about Nipper. Like. I can rephrase what he says to say the exact same thing except not being a asshole when saying it! Instead of "She was weak and unsuited for the field but she at least tried" just say "She was a hard worker despite being assigned to a job she did not ask for"! It's so fucking easy dude!

Anyway Stan is a jerk.

I loved the way this interlude rolled through different people all watching the same news report. It was a really good way to cover this major story event and let us see how so many other characters were reacting to it.

Also I'm sure all those Slaughterhouse Nine clones aren't going to be an issue later right? Or the fact that there is specifically only one clone of Gray Boy instead of 10 like everyone else? I'm sure that's fiiiiine.

Accord interlude thoughts:

Oh. Oh my. Uhhh. Is it hot in here all of the sudden? Anyone else feel that? No? Just me?

sweats

Oh ok Citrine definitely feels what I'm feeling. She knows what's up.

Just like. Look. Accord is bad ok. Not just cause he's a villain but clearly he'll kill for the smallest cause. And he's in a spot to fuck with my daughter and her polycule so like. Yes. He's bad. I do not like him. I want him to leave. I don't think they should work with him . . .

but . . .

OH MY FUCKING GOD HOLY SHIT PLEASE ACCORD I LOOK GREAT IN PURPLE AND I LOVE DRESSING FANCY AND I'M VERY GOOD AT BEING PROPER I WON'T MESS UP AT ALL I'LL BE THE PERFECT MINION PLEASE!

. . .

cough

Soooo anyway. How about that Butcher huh? That sure is a wild power. Instantly made me think of Glaistig Uaine's power. Very different but reaches into that same base bit, the idea that some part of a dead parahuman can be held onto.

Also holy shit Skitter was so badass in this scene I loved it.

Holy shit Accord is with Cauldron. Or at least closely aligned. And like of course he is it makes so much sense. He's too useful for them to ignore.

I am really curious to see what Accord's power does when he's confronted with a really complex problem. End of the world, doors to another dimension, higher dimensional beings, all that jazz.

[guidingthulite]

guys if the next n25 event is kanade5 and kanade helps mizuki in a way no one else could because kanade is what brought n25 together in the first place and gives mizuki strength to face her fears can you all go "alma you're so smart" and "alma we love you and your infinite wisdom" and "alma i'm going to draw kanamizu for you"

[svtskneecaps]

ngl if streams get dry i think qsmpblr should create some initiative where we day by day watch the series over again in order. give it some fuckin stupid ass tag name like "qsmp reverse redux" for proper filtering and tag it all as vodblogging and set ourselves loose on bits of the series that some people may never have had a chance to watch because this series moves SO. GODDAMN FAST. and there's barely ever time for vodwatching.

pick your pov or watch multiple who cares but it has to be in our pocket dimension reverse time day. a qsmp electric boogaloo. idc if we have to make a fucking discord server to keep track of what day we're on or to maybe even coordinate those "watch2gether" youtube tool groups or whatever it was so those who feel inclined to twitch chat can still feel the feeling of being in a live chat except the streamers can't hear you.

i just think it would be fun. and i like liveblogging with y'all. and not everybody was around from day 1, so we can try to give them that. unfortunately we missed the exact one year so it'd be a bit messy but who the fuckkkkk cares :D

[yetanotherexhaustedalchemist]

Random discussion on Rollo

the first part of this is a kind of analysis, then it kind of spirals into chaos.

I think Rollo's actions always felt worse to me (personally) for a few reasons. While it's never stated directly that being drained of magic would kill someone, it's still a strong enough possibility to concern me. Even if it didn't directly kill anyone, it would be like removing electricity from our world. People relying on modern medical equipment would be killed. People who needed the ability to use magic in their daily lives would suffer. Communication, transportation and such would be set back centuries. Not to mention the amount of aspirations, careers and livelihoods that would be destroyed. People would die, whether directly or indirectly.

I also always saw overblot as something akin to a magic-fueled psychotic break. Actions before overblotting people are absolutely responsible for, but during? Everyone who woke up from an overblot didn't remember what they did, and their actions were at least somewhat controlled by the phantoms. (I also feel like Vil was probably already dissociating after hearing RSA's practice performance, but that leans into hc territory.)

Riddle was a tyrant, but he never actually tried to harm anyone until he was in the process of overblotting. Leona, Azul and Jamil orchestrated their plans, but no one was supposed to actually die until they overblotted. Vil seemed to act without thinking and then was overcome by regret when he snapped out of it. Ortho was literally possessed by his own ghost and Idia wasn't doing great either. And Malleus put everyone to sleep, but that was specifically to protect them (even if that was a terrible method of doing so). The worst of the overblotter's actions were closer to mindless crimes in the moment, with most of them regretting what they did when they were back to being sane.

Meanwhile, Rollo had been planning this for years. That's years of time to reconsider the problems it would bring even non-mages, the lives the plan would ruin. He never overblotted. He was, comparatively, completely sane and aware the whole time. (If not attempted genocide, it was at least bio-warfare.) He also never regretted his plans and still intends to double down in the future.

But with all that said: Rollo is, ultimately, a traumatised teenager like the others. He should have known better, yes, but these are also fictional characters. The point isn't for them to be examples of peak morality. They're supposed to be entertaining and thought-provoking. They're meant to be love-to-hate and hate-to-love. (Hey, I've liked characters who have done worse things than he did.)

Also everyone in this game is morally questionable at best and that's some of the appeal. There's only so much point in debating who's worse and who's better.

I don't like Rollo, and that's because he's a well written character! His characterization and writing gets me riled up! It's also cool for him to be a blorbo or little meow meow! I have a bunch of respect for everyone who looked at him and said 'I can fix him'. (Well, someone's gotta and it's not going to be me.) You have my blessing. I will give you a thumbs up from across the room.

you don't have to agree with my interpretations of course, but please be polite if you want to discuss anything! At the end of the day these are fictional characters that we all interact with uniquely, and every interpretation is based in one's own expirences.

[iknowicanbutwhy]

Oh hey Schezo cool glove you got there!! Looks handmade haha :D

Lil extra detail just for funsies

[finderseeker]

Here’s that thing I spontaneously started writing for some reason. I go where my whims and capricious focus take me. I got sick of editing and rereading so I’m just posting it. This is set in the DDAU. It’s not long after things got worked out between the two sets of Dingsasters. Maybe a couple months. Windy is struggling.

Edit: changed it so the signed dialogue is no longer in italics sincee it’s the primary language.

————

“You know, in my world, you are a bartender as well.”

Grillby eyed the human man sitting as his bar. He was flushed, a sure sign that he was officially buzzed. Grillby knew this instantly, despite the man never having drank here before. After all, Gaster— his Gaster— was the same way: his face flushed when he drank. Of course this man was the same; The two were the same person, after all.

That was what Gaster— Wingdings— said, anyway. And, truth be told, Grillby could see it. This human had the same mannerisms, the same gestures, the same posture, the same expressions, the same name signs. If that alone weren’t enough, there was another monster with a human counterpart: Asteri. He hadn’t know the woman well, really, before all this. If he had stopped to think, perhaps he might have recalled seeing her as a little girl with her parents, half a century ago, but the family didn’t visit Snowdin often, and visited his restaurant even less. Besides, shapeshifters were easy to mistake.

The main reason he could use her and her human counterpart as evidence that this whole “alternate universe” business was real was that he had re-met her, now as an adult studying dog language in Snowdin, right around the same time that his best friend of over 400 years nervously introduced him to a human he was sheltering, who had the same name. Not only the same name, but the same voice, the same hair, the same style of dress, the same mannerisms, and the same alcohol preferences. The reasonable conclusion was that it was simply a particularly strange coincidence, but no, things with Gaster were never that simple these days. Of course it was something absurd like an alternate universe. The skeleton had always been a little too trusting— even of humans, even after everything— so Grillby initially took the story with a grain of salt. But as time went on, and Gaster spent more time with her, apparently details that reinforced the factuality of it came to light.

Not that Grillby saw either of them often. That was simply the nature of his friendship with Gaster, after so many years: long stretches of silence, occasional visits that picked up as if no time had passed, and, every once in a while, periods of frequent and excited contact. Those tended to happen during high stress situations, intense lows, or major breakthroughs. He would have assumed that sheltering a human would have been a large enough event to merit frequent contact, but no, nothing much came of it. And he, like always, never pushed. So when the next time the two visited, months later, and they held hands, well… that was Gaster’s business. But he believed his friend’s explanation about different universes, and just like when they asked him the first time, he agreed to keep an eye out for another human.

Except he didn’t see one. Not until nearly a year after his initial introduction to the human Asteri, when Gaster introduced a lanky, disheveled human man. Grillby had heard the announcement, of course, just like everyone else: that there were two humans living in the underground, and they were not to be harmed. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time besides being relieved Gaster would no longer need to hide the woman he obviously had feelings for, that she had apparently found her friend, and that both of them were so peaceful in comparison to the last time a human had fallen, decades ago.

Meeting this second human, all things considered, Grillby should not have been surprised when his oldest friend introduced him as his own alternate self. Despite this, he immediately felt an odd sort of defensiveness well up on Gaster’s behalf. Grillby and the human man had stared at each other for a few moments, both processing this meeting. Then, something had clicked for the human, and the precise way he lit up with that dumb idiot grin was so familiar, so immediately recognizable, Grillby barely needed any more evidence to be convinced.

Oh, sure, he had about a million questions about the whole situation between the four of them— two Asteris, and two Gasters, all of whom had now met each other, apparently— but they would tell him what they needed to, when they felt ready. He didn’t ask questions. This many years of bartending and people-watching had given him both the ability to read people and the patience to mind his own business and wait for an explanation. People loved to talk, and there were far more ways to say something than with words. He was the silent companion, always there to listen but never to pry. A keeper of secrets, and a staunch minder of his own business.

Nothing about today had seemed especially different, except that the human Gaster had wandered in all on his own a while ago, hesitant but trying not to seem uneasy. (Trying to hide it was futile though; Grillby had known his counterpart for centuries and could read his body language like a book.) But he said nothing as was his custom, simply nodded in greeting and acknowledgement, and let the man sit where he liked and order if he wished.

It had been nearly a 40 minutes by now, with naught a word but to order something Grillby wasn’t familiar with, then brandy as a reluctant compromise, and two refills. Only now, nursing that second refill, had the man finally lifted his head and signed anything beyond that.

“You know, in my world, you are a bartender as well.”

Grillby eyed him. That was certainly one way to start a conversation. It was indeed tempting to take the bait and tug the line, but he had many years of patience. He waited silently, as always.

The man sighed inaudibly and studied Grillby with a sort of look he had seen before. Asteri— the human one— always treated him with an odd sort of familiarity when she visited (which was more often than he expected, frankly), as if she already knew him. Sometimes he caught her looking at him with what he had long since learned to recognize in patrons as nostalgia. Bittersweetness. Except hers was a little different in a way he could never put a finger on. She never said anything though, and as a bartender he never asked. Now it made a little more sense: he had a counterpart too, and the two humans knew him.

That look was different on this face, though. Where Asteri looked a little sad, but mostly fond, this human version of Gaster looked far more stricken.

“You are quiet there, too.”

Human Gaster smiled a little, but it slipped almost immediately.

“Not quite this quiet, though.”

He swirled his drink around and stared at it for a moment before taking another sip.

“You used to be quite reactive, when we first met.” He chuckled, just once. “You are still learning to keep your expression neutral when customers say outrageous things. You were getting much better at it.” A bright, genuine smile split the gloom he was projecting, for a moment. “You opened your own restaurant, much like this one! It was just taking off… when Asteri and I fell.”

The smile was gone just as quickly, replaced by an even more despondent expression.

“I was supposed to visit. We moved away, after university. I had to cancel my trip…” He sighed. “No. I did not need to. You were coming to visit us the following month, and so I reasoned…”

The human blinked watery eyes and laid against his arm on the bar, hands falling still.

“I wonder what you thought,” he signed after a few moments, small like a whisper, and a few tears rolled onto his arm. “When we disappeared.” He blinked slowly, looking somewhere that wasn’t here. “I wish I could tell you I am safe. That I am sorry. I wish…” His eyes watered anew and his jaw quivered. “…I could tell you that I miss you.”

He rolled his head so his face was pressed into his sleeve, and sniffled softly.

Grillby stared at him, genuinely surprised for the first time in a while.

Oh.

This man— they called him “Windy” —was undeniably Gaster, but Grillby had only acknowledged that fact on its own. But it didn’t exist in a vacuum. This wasn’t just “now there’s a human Gaster too.” This was also “Gaster thrown into a strange new place,” “Gaster grieving something enormous,” and right now, most of all, “Gaster without his best friend.”

He knew how his Gaster— Wingdings— was. He knew how bad things were when they were young, how much he needed support. After so many years, he knew it wasn’t self-absorbed or presumptuous to say that Wingdings needed him. It was mutual. Of course it was. No longer needing to constantly be around each other didn’t change the fact that once upon a time, they only had each other. It didn’t change how integral they were to each other’s lives, even to each other’s development as people.

So what if Wingdings just disappeared?

What if the last time he visited really was the last time?

What would he do if his best friend and only anchor throughout the centuries were suddenly gone? No explanation, no clues, nothing.

Sparks, he’d be devastated. Heartbroken would be an understatement.

And if it had happened back then, when they were both still settling into who they were? Grillby wouldn’t even be the same person. Wingdings just another monster erased after the war, but the only one he’d been side-by-side with through it all; the reason he hadn’t allowed himself to succumb to the numbness that came with killing; the person who had kept him kind, kept him compassionate. The only friend he’d allowed himself to have in a world where caring had always, inevitably gotten him hurt.

He would have been utterly inconsolable.

But Wingdings, Wingdings was far more tender-hearted. He took every loss so hard, every time, even after more than four centuries. Grillby couldn’t imagine Wingdings would ever be alright if anything happened to him. Not now, not back then. No partner could ever fill the space they took up in each other’s lives. No happiness could replace each other’s friendship. It wasn’t a romantic thing; They had just known each other longer than anyone else.

Grillby blinked, mentally shaking himself out of his thoughts, and glanced around his restaurant. It was sparser than usual, being a weeknight. His attention turned back to the human in front of him. He may not know Windy, but he knew Gaster. He may have a policy of silence, but he always made an exception for his friend.

He scooped a glass of ice and nudged Windy’s arm with it. Windy lifted his head just enough to look up with bleary, red eyes. The ice in the glass was half melted when he reluctantly took it.

“If Gaster disappeared, I’d be pissed," Grillby signed flatly as the glass was taken. Windy wilted again. Grillby's expression didn't change, but a crimson shimmer of worry and guilt flickered through his flames. "Wouldn't think bad of him though."

Windy searched his face, probably struggling to read it, as most people did. Fire elementals didn’t tend to have a lot of facial expressions; it had more to do with brightness, intensity, and color. Most monsters didn’t know that. A human from a world without monsters certainly wouldn’t. Indeed, Windy didn’t seem to find whatever he was searching for, and his eyes fell once more as he sipped his ice water.

“I’m sorry for unloading this on you.”

His signs ran together and stayed close to his body, like he was muttering.

“This must be so uncomfortable for you. I- I apologize for being so selfish. I should not have come and said all this.”

He made to get up, shoving his hand in his pocket to fish for his wallet. Grillby reached out to grasp his shoulder, stopping him. He looked up. Grillby paused, not entirely sure what he had intended by this gesture. Seeing Windy sad like this was like seeing Wingdings from long, long ago. It made his heart ache.

“Not selfish,” he said. Another moment of hesitation, then, “It’s good you came. Stay.”

Windy’s jaw trembled again, and once more Grillby was struck by how uncannily similar his expressions were to Wingdings’, somehow, despite having skin and muscle. Windy hesitated, torn. “I should get home…”

It was a weak protest, and Grillby knew Gaster well enough to know when he needed to be pushed and when he needed to be left to it.

“Sober up first.” A reasonable excuse.

Windy hesitated once again, but then nodded and got back on his barstool.

He took another sip of ice water.

Grillby wiped out a cup.

It must be strange, he thought, to meet someone who you know, but who doesn’t know you. If he were in Windy’s position…

He set the cup aside and eyed the other man once more. “How do I look?”

Windy looked up, confused.

Grillby nodded toward him with his head. “Human.”

“A-Ah! Well…” The other man cracked a smile. Success. “You are shorter, but otherwise have the same build. You have pale skin, and freckles. You keep your hair long, except in summer. It is usually tied in a high ponytail. It is wavy, and—” He chuckled softly— “fiery orange.”

A sliver of violet wove its way up through Grillby’s flames, and he crackled pleasantly. After a moment of consideration, he leaned forward closer and dimmed, just a little, pointing to his face. Windy squinted in the heat, but after a second his eyes widened and he grinned.

“Freckles! I did not realize you could—” He caught himself and waved his hands sheepishly. “Ah! That is to say, I know so little still, I find that my reasoning frequently returns to the principles of my own universe. I was not aware that a being made of fire could… could have freckles.” His smile split his face despite himself.

There was a flicker of violet in Grillby’s flames. “What else?”

Windy lit up even more. “We are the same age, but while I am often mistaken as being older, you have a “baby face.”” He giggled a little. “You cannot grow facial hair save for patches of stubble, either, and we have had more than one silly argument about it. In university, you would come home and complain about how many customers asked if you were old enough to be tending a bar to begin with.”

Grillby raised nonexistent eyebrows. “We lived together?”

“Yes, for a few years. You see, the living arrangements on campus…”

⁂

By the time Windy left, it was late. He was smiling though, and that made Grillby feel better. By then, Grillby had learned many things about his human counterpart and the world this other Gaster had once lived in. He learned that human Grillby liked the cold weather too, preferring snow over sun; that his name there was a nickname (his real name was Gilbert); and that there was no war they’d ever had to fight, only academic and social struggles. It sounded like a much nicer past.

Grillby had told him to come back soon— they needed to settle on a different way to sign his name, after all, so it wasn’t the same as Wingdings’. Windy eagerly agreed; both of them being “Dr. Gaster” to everyone at work was difficult enough.

“You can pick me a new one,” Grillby had offered as well. “If you want.” He shrugged. “Don’t have to.”

It seemed that Windy liked the idea. He had launched into over-explaining himself immediately upon agreeing though, as if Grillby would be offended by it when he was the one who brought it up. He held a hand up to stop him. “I already know.”

He was Grillby, but wasn’t Windy’s Grillby. It was as simple as that. That fact wouldn’t change. They knew different versions of each other who had lived very different lives. At the heart of it all, though, they were the same, and that was what mattered. There was nothing he could do about this other Grillby, no replacing him, just like Windy could never replace Wingdings. They didn’t have the same history. They weren’t each other’s oldest and dearest companions. No. But they could still be friends. It was a start.

[gothoffspring]

Suraj Kennedy for @rainymoodlet's Kiss Me in Komorebi Age: 33 Sign: Virgo Occupation: Freelance Photographer/Community Garden Enthusiast Traits: Creative, Loves the Outdoors, Overachiever Location: San Myshuno

more info under the cut! (like, a lot more.. too much probably)

bio:

Suraj was adopted when he was 5 years old, and raised in the heart of the Spice District in San Myshuno. He has two sisters with whom he is very close. He's currently working on saving up enough money to go back to school to pursue a serious career in photography. Nature is his best friend and greatest coping mechanism for when things get tough. He was employed at the San Myshuno Botanical Garden for over five years, and still does certain photography projects for them. Doesn't mind getting his hands dirty (literally, not figuratively). Is a very frequent visitor of the community garden space, and loves tending to his garden. He's a serious overachiever and has no room for slacking off or failure of any kind. Missed out on the opportunity to go to school due to lack of funding and the need to help out with the care of his siblings due to a family situation. He currently lives on his own in a one bedroom apartment, located in the Arts Quarter. He's been working as a freelance photographer for a few years now and takes excellent wedding photos, despite his interest really lying in nature photography. Brides just happen to pay a bit more than flowers. He's been able to save up a bit of money and is finally almost ready to pursue his dream of higher education. Happened upon the submission form for Kiss Me in Komorebi by accident on the internet, and decided to give it a shot without many expectations. Until he actually started looking into Daniel Taylor himself, and now he's only a BIT smitten and very excited to meet him...

fun facts:

He can often be found wearing the colors brown and green. Floral patterns are also a must. He greatly enjoys corduroy pants and spiffy shirts, but also likes to dress down at times too (while still looking incredibly polished. The dude does not leave his apartment without all 3 of his earrings and his favorite cologne lovingly patted behind his ears)

Highly interested in UFO's. One of the things on his bucket list is to one day eat at the UFO Crash Site Diner in Oasis Springs.

Has a journal he writes in every single day without fail. Usually doing some sort of brainstorming exercise or spilling out his heart and soul.

He also makes lists meticulously. He spends so much time making plans and writing them down that sometimes he lacks on the execution part.

His dad is like, an ALARMINGLY huge fan of Daniel Taylor and may fangirl just a little upon finding out his son is about to go on a reality tv show with the man.

His perfect night consists of Yahtzee, making homemade popcorn, watching nature documentaries and curling up with a very cute person on the couch.

Is an apple nerd, wouldn't dare touch an android (is this his weakness djfklds im kidding)

Loves carnivals, fairs and carnival games! If a boardwalk is involved, you've won him over completely. All of his closest friends have won him at least one stuffed animal from the fair.

Enjoys not having to wear pants in his own apartment ❤️ (we love a relatable king)

Extremely scared of dogs due to being bit when he was a kid, but stick a cat in front of him and he's picking them up immediately.

Huge museum enthusiast and wants to visit as many as he can!

[lokh]

me forgetting that their entire sordid tale exists only in my notebook =') a demon kyo sketch. at the end of it all, having remembered everything, they have to convince each other to live

also bonus kyojuro

[josecariohca]

.

[a-gay-bloodmage]

One of my favorite hobbies to engage in is ignoring the canon course of video game romances

[edwinisms]

literally I have not written this much in the span of a couple weeks since like. mid high school. so around 7-8 years ago. what has this show done to me

[hella1975]

wondering why old ladies aren’t smiling at me around town as much this morning then remember im wearing hoops and a puffer jacket and generally look like a bitchy year 9 girl who’s about to punch someone

[boxwinebaddie]

UNCLE NINA WRITES WEIRD JK STAN LETTERS!

hello benevolent angel people!

( because you're wonderful but bc you're doing gods work by supporting my dead fanfic from hell. c:’ )

so this is a lil...experimental? but bc i've been dabbling on that one ask large lore ask that set before kyle knows raven of crimson dawn is his stan, i've gotten very attached to writing the silly jersey letters to dead stan in his journal again. ( again, nina lore is that it's what a friend had me do when my first cat passed away.

i still write to her. <3 )

but this is just something i wrote to get back into the habit of writing again. i put it on docs and i used a font which...okay? tbh, i think looks exactly like i want jk's handwriting to look. like its very swirly, he is my calligraphy king. i didn't proof it bc i just wrote...all of it tonight like a weird crazy person.

also i realize jk sounds...a lot like me

— but he Is me, tbh?

like in some facets i did give him lil pieces of myself so he could grow into an uber tall thicc as hell academic hot jersey talk shit get hit boy.

( i also do think he's a lot goofier with stan in his little letters esp since he doesn't think that anyone is going to read them they are just his lil vent space. let it out king! )

as for the timeline...i think it's pre!rm bonus content? like i dropped a little context about stuff that happened before the fic, but i think it's probably written anywhere in the last 1-2 years of rm before kyle went to that crimson dawn concert. i'm not sure what compelled me to write it i just...really like vulnerable jersey just being a jersey dirtbag but like kneeling by the stan shrine and asking for light.

speaking of...as far as triggers go. mostly the spelling is just bad, help, but jersey does talk a lot about stan dying and is very...distressed about it. he's also...really depressed and is not at the moment coping super well, but is reaching out for help. <3 always reach out for help when you need it. i didn't mention anything specific, but he does just mention thinking he's not a good person, feeling ugly, unworthy, lost, etc...TW FOR HIM BEING SO VULNERABLE AND CUTE ALSO.

he is...my secret loverboy prince.

he is my lo-...

my L-

anyways...ROLL CLIP!