#or it might just be for no real reason at all

[sunrenity]

⟡ㅤㅤCOMPASSㅤ┈─ㅤ엔하이픈

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ( 🎞 )ㅤㅤi might get lost without you

precis : you're their compass.

엔하이픈ㅤ୨୧ㅤenhypen x 𝒻em readerㅤ..ㅤest relationship, tooth-rotting fluffㅤ/ㅤidol au! for heeseung, 600-700 words per memberㅤㅤ( 4883 )

zehra's note.ㅤmight be in my thenbhd era

LEE HEESEUNG

the world was always loud around lee heeseung. the chaos of his daily life—practices, interviews, schedules—felt like a hurricane he could never quite escape. yet somehow, in the midst of it all, you were his constant.

heeseung always said you were like his north star.

“it’s cheesy,” he’d chuckle, running a hand through his hair as you sat across from him in your tiny favorite café. his face would light up in the way it always did when he teased you, dimples pressing deep into his cheeks. “but i mean it. without you, i’d just... drift.”

today was no different. you were seated together at a secluded corner table, the kind he requested specifically so no one would recognize him. a cup of steaming caramel latte sat untouched between his hands, growing colder by the second as he focused entirely on you. his gaze was warm, dark eyes soft as they traced your every move.

“you’re staring again, heeseung,” you teased, peering over the rim of your cup.

“can’t help it,” he admitted easily, leaning closer. his elbows rested on the table as his face inched toward yours, the faintest scent of his cologne lingering in the air. “you’re the only thing that makes sense these days.”

the weight of his words hung heavy between you, but not uncomfortably so. you knew what he meant, even if he wasn’t saying it outright. he didn’t need to. heeseung had always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. every stolen glance, every gentle touch, every unspoken smile—it all told you the same story.

he needed you.

and it wasn’t in the dramatic, overbearing way some might imagine. heeseung wasn’t looking for someone to fix him or carry his burdens. he just needed you to remind him that amidst the chaos, there was still something real. something steady. something that felt like home.

“i think you give me too much credit,” you murmured, setting your drink down and meeting his gaze head-on.

“not possible,” he countered without missing a beat. “you’re the reason i know which way to go, even when i feel lost. like that time—”

he paused, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“what?” you prompted, leaning in slightly.

“remember the night before the showcase? when i was freaking out about forgetting the choreography?”

you nodded, vividly recalling the way he had paced back and forth in his living room, muttering steps under his breath until his voice cracked from exhaustion.

“you didn’t even flinch,” he continued, the fondness in his tone evident. “you just sat there, listening, and then dragged me out for ice cream at 2 a.m. like it was the most normal thing in the world.”

you laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “you needed to get out of your own head. that’s all.”

heeseung shook his head, his smile widening. “no, i needed you.”

it wasn’t the first time he’d said it, and you doubted it would be the last. but every time he did, it felt like a little thread tying you closer to him, weaving your lives together in a way that felt impossible to undo.

“you know,” he said after a moment, reaching across the table to brush his fingers against yours, “i don’t tell you enough how much i appreciate you.”

your breath hitched slightly at the tenderness in his voice. it was rare for heeseung to let his walls down completely, but when he did, it always felt like a privilege to witness.

“you don’t have to,” you replied, curling your fingers around his. “i already know.”

he smiled then, the kind of smile that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

in that moment, you realized that being his compass didn’t mean guiding him to a destination. it meant being the place he could return to, no matter how far he wandered. and as his fingers tightened around yours, you knew you’d be that for him—always.

PARK JONGSEONG

it was almost comical how park jay always seemed to know what he was doing. he was the kind of person who made the world look effortless, like he had it all figured out. from his perfectly timed jokes to the confident way he carried himself, people assumed he never faltered. but you knew better. 

beneath the cool exterior, jay was just as lost as anyone else. maybe even more so. 

he’d told you that once, late one autumn night as the two of you sat on the hood of his car. the air was crisp, tinged with the earthy smell of fallen leaves, and the sky stretched endlessly above you, scattered with stars. jay’s jacket was draped over your shoulders, warm and slightly oversized, while he leaned back, one leg propped up on the bumper and the other dangling lazily. 

“i don’t know where i’m going half the time,” he admitted, his voice low and quiet, like the confession wasn’t meant to reach anyone but you. 

you turned to him then, his profile illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlight. his expression was unreadable, but you saw the vulnerability in his eyes—the kind he rarely let anyone see. 

“you always seem like you do,” you said softly. 

he chuckled, the sound dry and humorless. “that’s the trick, isn’t it? make it look like you’ve got it all together so no one bothers asking questions.” 

it was such a jay thing to say, and yet it broke your heart a little. because while everyone else saw the polished version of him, you saw the cracks. the uncertainty. the quiet ache of someone who was searching for something he couldn’t quite name. 

“you don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

he glanced at you then, his dark eyes locking onto yours like he was searching for something. and maybe he found it, because his shoulders relaxed just a little, and the corners of his mouth lifted in the faintest hint of a smile. 

“that’s why i need you,” he said simply. 

the words settled between you, heavy with meaning. you didn’t respond right away, unsure of how to articulate the warmth spreading through your chest. jay wasn’t the type to say things he didn’t mean, and you knew this was as close to a confession as he’d ever get. 

“where are we going tonight?” you asked instead, breaking the silence. 

he smiled then, a real one this time, and it was the kind of smile that made you feel like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. 

“does it matter?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you. 

you shook your head, a small laugh escaping your lips. “no, i guess it doesn’t.” 

and it was true. being with jay always felt like enough, no matter where you ended up. whether it was on an aimless drive through the city, sprawled out on the living room floor listening to records, or sitting in comfortable silence as the world moved on around you—he made every moment feel significant. 

maybe that’s why he called you his compass. not because you showed him where to go, but because you reminded him that the destination didn’t matter as long as he had you by his side. 

“you know,” he said suddenly, breaking your train of thought, “i think you’re the only person who gets me.” 

you turned to him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “that’s not true.” 

“it is,” he insisted, his gaze unwavering. “no one else makes me feel... grounded. like i’m not just floating around, waiting for something to happen.” 

there it was again—that honesty he reserved only for you. it was overwhelming at times, the way he opened up to you so completely, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

“i’m glad i can be that for you,” you said finally, your voice soft but steady. 

he reached for your hand then, his fingers warm against yours despite the cool night air. his touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid you might pull away.

but you didn’t.

instead, you held on tighter, letting him know without words that you weren’t going anywhere. 

because if jay was lost, you’d be his guide. and if he ever doubted where he belonged, you’d remind him. 

you were his compass, after all. and he was your home.

SIM JAEYUN

jake was always moving. whether it was the way he gestured enthusiastically as he spoke or how he could never stay in one place for too long, there was a restless energy to him that you couldn’t help but admire. he was a whirlwind of spontaneity, someone who craved adventure and thrived on the unknown. 

but even whirlwinds need somewhere to land. 

jake often joked that you were his anchor. 

“if i didn’t have you, i’d probably end up in the middle of nowhere without a clue how i got there,” he’d say, laughing as he tossed his arm around your shoulders. the way he looked at you, though, made you think there was more truth to it than he let on. 

today was one of those rare moments when jake wasn’t moving. you sat together at the edge of a quiet lake, its surface rippling gently in the breeze. the sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the water and painting the world in warm, honeyed hues. 

jake leaned back on his elbows, legs stretched out in front of him as he gazed at the horizon. his golden-brown hair glinted in the light, messy from the wind, and his lips curved into a soft smile as he turned to you. 

“do you ever feel like you’re not sure where you’re going?” he asked suddenly, his voice quieter than usual. 

you glanced at him, caught off guard by the question. jake was usually so sure of himself, so carefree. but in that moment, there was a vulnerability in his expression that made your heart ache. 

“sometimes,” you admitted, pulling your knees to your chest. “but i think that’s normal.” 

he nodded, his gaze drifting back to the water. “it’s just... sometimes it feels like no matter how far i go or how many places i see, i’m still looking for something i can’t find.” 

there was a pause, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but filled with unspoken thoughts. 

“and when you’re with me?” you asked softly. 

jake’s head snapped toward you, his eyes widening slightly as if he hadn’t expected the question. but then his expression softened, and a small, almost shy smile tugged at his lips. 

“when i’m with you,” he said, his voice steady, “it feels like i’ve already found it.” 

your breath caught at the sincerity in his tone. jake had always been charming, always quick with a joke or a playful comment, but this was different. this was real. 

“jake...” 

he sat up then, leaning closer until his face was mere inches from yours. his dark eyes searched yours, warm and steady despite the uncertainty he’d just confessed. 

“you’re the only thing that makes sense,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “even when everything else feels... chaotic.” 

it wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that, but it was the first time it felt so raw, so open. jake wasn’t one to dwell on heavy emotions, but when it came to you, he never held back. 

“maybe that’s because you’re always running,” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. “you don’t give yourself time to just be.” 

jake chuckled, the sound soft and warm. “maybe. but if i stopped running, i wouldn’t have found you.” 

the weight of his words settled over you, wrapping around your heart like a warm blanket. jake had a way of saying things that made you feel like the most important person in the world, like you were the reason the stars hung in the sky. 

“besides,” he added, a playful glint returning to his eyes, “you’re the one who keeps me on track. my compass, remember?” 

you rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “you’re ridiculous.” 

“ridiculously lucky,” he shot back, leaning in to nudge your shoulder with his. 

you laughed, the sound echoing across the lake, and jake’s smile widened in response. in that moment, it didn’t matter where he was going or what he was searching for. all that mattered was that he was here, with you, and for once, the restlessness inside him had quieted. 

because with you, jake didn’t feel lost. he felt found.

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon wasn’t someone who expressed himself easily. words didn’t come naturally to him, at least not the kind that bared his heart. but you’d always known how to read between the lines, to find meaning in the silences where others might see emptiness. 

he said it once, offhandedly, that you were like his compass. 

“i just... think better when you’re around,” he’d muttered, his voice quiet as his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his jacket. his cheeks had turned a faint pink as he avoided your eyes, but the admission lingered, warm and sweet. 

now, standing at the edge of a frozen lake, you watched sunghoon skate effortlessly across the ice. he moved like the winter wind—graceful, sure, yet untouchable. the early evening light glinted off the smooth surface, painting his figure in soft shades of gold and blue. 

you stood bundled in your coat and scarf, shivering slightly as you watched him circle back toward you. he stopped a few feet away, the blades of his skates slicing cleanly into the ice, sending a spray of frost into the air. 

“cold?” he asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern. 

“a little,” you admitted, smiling as you rubbed your gloved hands together. “but it’s worth it to see you like this. you’re amazing out there.” 

his gaze flickered down, and for a moment, you thought you saw a hint of a smile on his lips. sunghoon wasn’t one for grand reactions, but you’d learned to notice the small ones—the way his shoulders relaxed when you complimented him, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you. 

“come here,” he said, holding out his hand. 

you hesitated, glancing at your boots. “i’m not exactly a skating prodigy like you, sunghoon. i’ll probably fall on my face.” 

his lips twitched upward, the faintest ghost of a smile. “i won’t let you.” 

something about the quiet confidence in his voice made you believe him. tentatively, you reached for his hand, and he pulled you gently onto the ice. his touch was firm but careful, as if he were afraid of hurting you. 

“just relax,” he said, his other hand coming to rest lightly on your waist. “i’ve got you.” 

and he did. as he guided you across the ice, his movements slow and deliberate, you felt the tension in your body melt away. the world around you faded, leaving only the quiet sound of skates gliding and the warmth of his hands steadying you. 

“you make this look so easy,” you said, glancing up at him. 

“it’s not as hard as it looks,” he replied, his tone calm. “you just have to trust yourself.” 

you raised an eyebrow. “is that what you do?” 

his lips curved slightly, a soft laugh escaping him. “sometimes.” 

the honesty in his voice surprised you. sunghoon rarely admitted to uncertainty—it wasn’t his style. but in moments like this, when it was just the two of you, he let his guard down in a way that made your heart ache. 

“hey,” you said gently, squeezing his hand. “you don’t have to have it all figured out, you know.” 

he looked at you then, his dark eyes meeting yours. for a moment, it felt like the whole world had gone still. 

“you make it easier,” he said softly. 

the words were simple, but the weight behind them wasn’t lost on you. sunghoon wasn’t someone who spoke in grand declarations or flowery phrases, but when he said something, he meant it. 

“you’re my compass,” he added after a pause, his voice quieter now. “even when i don’t know where i’m going, i know i’ll be okay as long as you’re with me.” 

your chest tightened at the raw vulnerability in his words. this was the sunghoon only you got to see—the boy who felt deeply but struggled to express it, who showed his love in actions rather than words. 

“i’m not going anywhere,” you said, your voice steady. “i promise.” 

his lips twitched again, and this time the smile reached his eyes. it was small, almost shy, but it was real. 

“good,” he said, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. 

together, you continued to glide across the ice, his hand never leaving yours. and in that moment, it didn’t matter where the world took him or how lost he might feel at times. because no matter what, you’d be there to guide him. 

just as he always guided you.

KIM SUNOO

sunoo had a way of brightening every space he entered. it wasn’t just the brilliance of his smile or the warmth in his eyes—it was something deeper, something unexplainable. he carried an energy that made you feel like, no matter how lost you were, everything was going to be okay. 

but even someone like sunoo had his shadows. 

the two of you walked side by side along a winding path in the park, the world around you cloaked in a soft, rolling fog. the trees loomed like quiet sentinels, their skeletal branches weaving into the pale gray sky. your breath puffed out in faint clouds, mingling with the damp air, and the faint crunch of leaves beneath your boots was the only sound breaking the silence. 

sunoo was quiet today. 

it wasn’t like him. normally, he’d fill the space with chatter—little stories about his day, playful teasing, or random observations that made you laugh. but now, his hands were shoved into his pockets, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. 

“sunoo?” you said softly, glancing at him. 

he hummed in acknowledgment, but he didn’t meet your gaze. 

“is everything okay?” 

for a moment, he didn’t answer. the fog seemed to press in closer, the world shrinking around you. then he sighed, the sound soft and almost hesitant. 

“do you ever feel like... like you’re not enough?” he asked, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. 

the question hit you like a sudden gust of wind, unexpected and disorienting. sunoo—the boy who radiated confidence and joy—felt this way? 

“sunoo,” you said gently, stopping in your tracks. he paused too, turning to face you with a tentative look in his eyes. 

“you’re more than enough,” you said firmly. 

he blinked, surprised by the conviction in your voice. “you don’t understand,” he murmured, looking away. “sometimes, it feels like no matter how hard i try, i’m always falling short. like... like i’m just faking it, and one day, everyone’s going to realize.” 

his words trailed off, and you saw the vulnerability etched into his expression. it broke your heart to see him like this, so uncertain, so fragile. 

“you’re not faking it,” you said, stepping closer. “you’re incredible, sunoo. you’re kind and thoughtful, and you make people feel seen and loved in a way no one else can.” 

he opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off. 

“and even when you’re feeling like this—when you’re doubting yourself—you’re still enough. more than enough.” 

sunoo stared at you, his eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears. then, slowly, a small, almost hesitant smile broke across his face. 

“you always know what to say,” he said softly. 

you shook your head, returning his smile. “it’s not about knowing what to say. i just know you. and i know how special you are, even if you don’t see it right now.” 

the fog around you seemed to lighten, the world growing a little brighter. sunoo’s smile grew, and this time, it reached his eyes, chasing away the lingering shadows. 

“thank you,” he said quietly. 

“you don’t have to thank me,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. “just... let me remind you whenever you forget, okay?” 

he nodded, squeezing your hand gently. “okay.” 

the two of you started walking again, the path ahead still shrouded in mist but somehow feeling less daunting. sunoo’s hand stayed in yours, his grip warm and steady. 

you were his compass, even if he didn’t realize it. and just like he lit up the world for everyone else, you’d be the light that guided him through his darkest moments. 

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon was a quiet storm. he wasn’t loud or overly expressive, but everything about him carried a subtle intensity—a calm, steady rhythm that grounded you when the world felt chaotic. 

you often thought of him as the anchor that kept you steady. but if you asked him, he’d say the same about you. 

it was a rare rainy afternoon, the kind where the sky was more silver than gray, and the soft patter of raindrops created a soothing melody against the windows. the two of you sat on the floor of his small living room, a blanket draped over your shoulders as you shared the space in easy silence. the warm glow of a single lamp painted everything in soft hues, turning the mundane into something quietly magical. 

jungwon sat across from you, his legs crossed and his fingers absently toying with the edge of the blanket you shared. his dark hair was slightly mussed, and his sweater looked a size too big, the sleeves brushing his knuckles as he moved. 

“what are you thinking about?” you asked, breaking the silence. 

his gaze flickered up to meet yours, the corners of his lips curling into a faint smile. “you always ask me that.” 

“because you always look like you’re lost in thought,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your foot. 

he chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, like the first sip of hot tea on a cold day. “maybe i just like thinking when i’m with you.” 

the casual sincerity of his words made your breath catch. that was the thing about jungwon—he didn’t need grand gestures or flowery words to make you feel special. he did it in the little things, the quiet moments. 

“what about right now?” you pressed gently. “what are you thinking about right now?” 

he hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands. for a moment, you thought he might deflect, but then he surprised you. 

“i was thinking about how... steady everything feels when you’re here,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “like, no matter what’s going on, i know i’ll be okay if i’m with you.” 

your heart swelled at his confession, and you leaned forward, resting your chin on your knees as you watched him. “jungwon...” 

he glanced up, his dark eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability that he rarely showed. “you’re my compass,” he continued, his voice steadier now. “you remind me where i’m supposed to be, even when i start to lose track of myself.” 

the honesty in his words left you momentarily speechless. jungwon wasn’t the type to bare his emotions so openly, but when he did, it was with a quiet strength that left no room for doubt. 

“you’re where you’re supposed to be,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “and you’re doing just fine, jungwon. more than fine.” 

he exhaled a quiet laugh, his fingers tightening around yours. “i don’t always feel that way.” 

“that’s okay,” you said, squeezing his hand gently. “you don’t have to have it all figured out. that’s what i’m here for, remember?” 

his smile widened, and for a moment, the room felt warmer, brighter. jungwon had a way of making the simplest moments feel profound, as if the world slowed down just for the two of you. 

“thank you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. 

“for what?” you asked, tilting your head. 

“for being you,” he said simply. 

the rain continued to fall outside, its rhythm steady and soothing. and as you sat there, your hands entwined and the world quiet around you, you realized that jungwon wasn’t just your anchor—he was the steady rhythm you didn’t know you needed. 

and you? you were his compass, guiding him gently back to himself every time he lost his way.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki wasn’t one to say what he felt outright. his emotions weren’t something he wore on his sleeve, nor did he hand them out freely to the world. to most people, he was an enigma—a mix of sharp wit and quiet confidence, always keeping others at arm’s length. 

but not with you. 

you had a way of getting past his defenses, slipping through the cracks in his armor like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. you didn’t push or pry; you simply stayed, steady and unwavering, until he let you in. 

tonight, the two of you found yourselves at the edge of the city, sitting on the hood of his car with the skyline sprawled out below. the faint hum of distant traffic filled the cool night air, and the stars above blinked faintly against the darkness. 

riki leaned back on his elbows, his long legs stretched out before him. his dark hair fell loosely over his forehead, and the soft glow of the city lights painted his sharp features in shades of silver and gold. he was quiet tonight, his usual playful banter replaced by a contemplative stillness. 

“you’ve been quiet,” you remarked, glancing over at him. 

he smirked faintly, tilting his head to look at you. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

“it’s not,” you replied, your lips curving into a small smile. “just unusual.” 

he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “guess i’ve got a lot on my mind.” 

you waited, giving him the space to continue if he wanted to. with riki, patience was key. he wasn’t someone who spilled his thoughts easily, but when he did, it was worth every second of the wait. 

“i’ve been thinking about us,” he said finally, his voice low and steady. 

the admission caught you off guard, and your heart skipped a beat. “oh?” you said softly, your gaze locking onto his. 

he sat up then, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared out at the skyline. “i’ve always been good at figuring things out—what i want, where i’m going. but with you...” he trailed off, his brows furrowing slightly as he searched for the right words. 

“with me?” you prompted gently. 

“with you, it’s different,” he said, turning to meet your eyes. “you make me feel... anchored. like no matter where i’m going, it doesn’t matter as long as you’re there.” 

the vulnerability in his voice sent a wave of warmth through you. riki wasn’t someone who opened up easily, and hearing him say those words felt like he was handing you a piece of his heart. 

“you know,” you began, a soft smile tugging at your lips, “you’re not as hard to figure out as you think.” 

he raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “oh, really?” 

“really,” you said, leaning slightly closer. “you act all cool and aloof, but deep down, you care more than you let on. you just don’t like showing it.” 

his smirk widened, but there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “you think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?” 

“pretty much,” you teased, your smile growing. 

he shook his head, but the amusement in his expression was unmistakable. “you’re something else, you know that?” 

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you quipped, your tone light. 

“it is,” he said quietly, his voice taking on a more serious note. “you make me... better. i don’t know how else to say it, but you do. you’re like my compass or something. you remind me where i’m supposed to be, even when i lose sight of it myself.” 

the sincerity in his words made your chest tighten. for all his teasing and confidence, riki had a depth to him that he didn’t show to just anyone. but here, under the vast expanse of the night sky, he was letting you see it. 

“you’re not as lost as you think you are,” you said softly, your gaze steady. “but i’ll always be here, just in case you need reminding.” 

for a moment, he didn’t say anything. then, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours before entwining them together. his grip was firm, steady, but there was a gentleness to it that made your heart flutter. 

“good,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “because i don’t think i ever want to figure things out without you.” 

the city lights continued to shimmer in the distance, the hum of the world fading into the background. and as the two of you sat there, hand in hand, it was clear that neither of you needed a map or a plan. 

because wherever you went, you’d always be his true north.

[emmcfrxst]

I’m wondering how Laura would react if reader and OldMan!Logan got into a fight? Maybe they tried to keep it away from her but unfortunately the girls too much like her father and ends up hearing most of it.

Ugh and imagine if she saw Logan storming off not realizing that he left you in tears…

(I’m feeling extremely angsty tonight.)

TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH, TRAUMA, ILLNESS, UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS, SUICIDAL IDEATIONS & GOD (I guess????) Set before Logan gets, as nonnie put it, chest-fucked, so during the period of time everyone’s trying to escape the fucking Reavers while figuring shit out. It got too long so it’s under the cut

You don’t argue that often with Logan— your relationship is solid and although communication was rocky at first, he’s made significant progress and is able to hold a serious conversation without immediately jumping back into his defense mechanisms (misguided anger, deflection and ultimately fleeing were his initial reactions when you tried establishing proper communication about feelings in the beginning). His progress, however, is rendered completely useless when the conversation is about his rapidly declining health; he’s immediately on the defensive, body going rigid and eyes going dark, jaw clenched so hard you’re afraid he might shatter it— he hates thinking about his newfound mortality, not necessarily because he’s afraid of death (it’s actually quite the opposite, he seeks death in a way, longing for the pain and the nightmares to just stop once and for all) but because he knows that dying means leaving you on your own and that’s something he can’t bear to think about— the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you is immeasurable; it overwhelms him entirely because he knows that losing him would break you and it makes him feel physically ill to think about the consequences. So in true Logan fashion, he blows you off whenever you bring up your concerns, stating that he’s fine, and the anger he feels at himself and his body for failing him ends up being taken out on you through biting words he regrets as soon as they slip from his tongue.

“I’m the one who’s fuckin’ dying, for Christ’s sake, quit your fuckin’ yapping.” It’s a phrase he regrets uttering for multiple reasons: he hates being rude to you in any way, shape or form because you’re the last person who deserves to be subjected to his emotional constipation— you’ve taken all of his broken parts into your hands and pieced them back together with your unconditional love and unwavering patience, you’ve made him feel loved, you’ve made him feel alive, and most importantly, you’ve shown him that he doesn’t have to feel guilty or bitter about his existence. You’ve done so much for him throughout the years and he fucking hates himself for letting his emotions get the better of him like that. The other thing that bothers him deeply about his reaction is the verbal acknowledgment of his condition; it’s something that he somehow believes can be ignored, as if denying it could make it any less real. Acknowledging that he’s dying makes bile rise up his throat— it’s a bitter feeling, really, because he used to wish for death everyday before he met you, heart and mind torn to shreds from years of horrific abuse and unwavering violence; he even prayed to whatever God was out there, despite not being a believer, to just let him go, to free him of the chains of trauma that bound his psyche. His prayers were left unanswered, Logan only accumulating more trauma as the years went by— he can’t count how many times he’s cursed God for making him go through what he’s gone through, needing someone to blame and wishing for a way to end it all. Ironically, Logan’s immortality only seems to waver once he starts treasuring life; it feels like a stab in the back, a cruel joke orchestrated by God who finally decided to answer his prayers now that he wishes he could take them back. The feeling of betrayal only seems to further fuel Logan’s anger towards his illness, which, combined with the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you alone, causes him to act out whenever you bring up the subject. You take offense in the words thrown at you, hurt by the reminder of his impending death and the way he navigates it, arguing back that you do this because you care about him, for fuck’s sake. Unfortunately, that only seems to make things worse, upsetting Logan further and bringing back years’ worth of feeling unworthy of your affections.

“That’s your fuckin’ problem bub. I told ya you shouldn’t waste your time with a man like me.” he physically winces as he utters those words, wishing he could unsee the way it makes your entire face crumble with despair— it’s a slap in the face, really, to be brought back to square one and have him reject you in this way. Logan flees before either of you can say anything else, slamming the front door behind him and walking in no particular direction until he feels like he can finally breathe again, leaving you in tears at home. Laura, although playing in her makeshift room at the time, hears the whole exchange as clear as day due to her enhanced senses, her fists clenching with rage when her ears pick up the sound of your stifled sobs. You feel her before you even hear her, your body tensing as a pair of small, skinny arms wrap around your middle, a head resting along your spine. After the initial alarm of feeling someone touching you, you can’t help but let out a watery laugh at just how easy it seemed for her to surprise you, turning around in Laura’s arms so you can look down at her. A frown is etched onto her features, lips puckered into an angry pout as she hugs you tighter, insulting Logan in spanish under her breath. It makes you laugh again, this time softly, your hand smoothing out her hair as you sniffle.

“I’m okay, Laura. I’m okay.” she glares up at you, unconvinced, giving you another squeeze and reluctantly allowing her features to relax when you gently run a fingertip across the furrow of her brows— despite not being together for long, you find that you’re able to soothe Laura quite easily; there is a connection between the two of you like you’ve never felt before, a bond that you feel like you were always destined to have. Your heart warms at the obvious way the child seems to care for you, wanting nothing more than to make all of her worries disappear.

“He made you cry.” her voice is so quiet that you almost miss it, a soft, indignant noise leaving her at the sight of your tear-stained cheeks. You sniffle again, free hand moving up to wipe at your eyes, the other caressing her hair lovingly.

“I know.” you don’t say that it’s okay because it’s not— Logan crossed a line that you thought had been worn down ages ago, and you’ll be damned before you ever teach Laura that hurtful words can be brushed aside so easily without an apology. It’s for her as much as for you; you’re aware that you deserve respect even when Logan is upset, and you’re not about to stomp down on your self-worth to coddle him when he’s done something wrong. He’ll apologize, you’re sure of it, but until that happens, you’re not going to pretend that his reaction was acceptable. It’s something you categorically refuse to do, and it’s one of the many reasons Logan fell in love with you in the first place. You know your worth.

“I’ll be okay soon.” you tell her honestly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She studies you for a moment longer before nodding her head, allowing you to lead her onto the couch where she curls up next to you.

You’re asleep by the time Logan starts walking back towards the house but Laura hears the crunching of sand and gravel under his shoes, quietly untangling herself from you and moving to the side of the door, frown back on her features. Logan barely has the time to pass the threshold before she’s on him, jumping onto his back like a feral animal and punching his shoulders repeatedly, growling when he grabs her and holds her still, visibly confused and irritated by her behavior.

“Don’t even think about it.” he warns her when she makes to bite the hand that holds her down, frowning down at her just as hard she does up to him. She struggles in his hold, trying to hit him again, making him grunt in pain.

“You made her cry, coño.” the words make Logan freeze in his tracks, eyes falling on your sleeping form on the couch, noting the way your eyes look reddened and the tear tracks on your cheeks. Nausea immediately strikes him like lightning, the expression on his face seeming to satisfy Laura as she stops struggling, frown still evident on her face. She sits up and watches silently once he lets her go, staying nearby to see the situation unfold.

You awake to a calloused hand gently running over the plane of your cheekbone, eyes opening to meet Logan’s remorseful ones. He’s sitting on the ground next to the couch, looming over you in a way that makes you feel safe like no one else ever could.

“Hey.” his voice is hoarse but soft, thumb swiping back and forth over your skin in a silent act of comfort. It makes you smile despite your grogginess, and you feel more than you hear Logan releasing a soft, relieved inhale through his nose.

“Hey.” you answer him just as softly, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes again, content to feel him again.

“I’m sorry.” the words sound heavy coming out of his mouth, a grim expression taking over his features as he wipes off the remnants of your earlier tears.

“I know.” you reply simply, turning your head to press a gentle kiss against the roughened palm of his hand. It makes him exhale shakily, shoulders squaring as he prepares himself for the discomfort of the following words.

“Didn’t mean to snap at you, baby. I just… I feel helpless, I guess, and it fuckin’ pisses me off. Never had to worry about dying and leaving you alone before.” he says the words slowly, trying to make the last sentence sound like a joke, tone falling flat. You can tell he’s uncomfortable with the discussion but he pushes through, causing you to feel a rush of sympathy— he’s trying, you know he’s trying, and that means something to you.

“I know. I feel helpless, too. But you have to remember that you’re not alone. Not anymore. And I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, it’s you and me until the end.” he laughs wetly at your words, nodding his head and swallowing thickly before speaking again.

“I know.” this time it’s his turn to provide reassurance, the two little words more than enough for the both of you. The feeling of his warm lips connecting with your forehead makes your eyes flutter shut, hand coming up to lay over the one he’s curled around the back of your neck.

“Kid’s kicked my ass for making you cry.” he mumbles against your skin, the amusement in his voice clear. It makes you snort in surprise, unaware that Laura had intervened before you woke up.

“Did she? Well, you kinda deserved it.” your answer is playful, tone devoid of its previous heaviness, your eyes meeting Laura’s over Logan’s shoulder for a brief moment before focusing on your lover once again.

“That I did.” he agrees simply, a soft, tender, apologetic smile on his face. You lean further into him when he kisses your nose, heart feeling lighter than it had in a while.

You were going to be okay.

[brittle-doughie]

Go Smell the Flowers (Flower City)

“Well, just let me know if the medicine I gave you isn’t giving you the desired effects. R-Remember, medicine may be sour, but it can also be sweet!”

Bitter Candy Cookie tried to lift up your spirits with her optimistic tone, but it was clear that she wasn’t confident in saying them. She sheepishly giggled before leaving the room and closing the door. Dumpling Cookie was waiting on her, leaning on the wall next to the door as she adjusts her glasses.

Heya @/iatemitomt0day

“How is Y/N?”

Bitter Candy Cookie sighed as she took her medical helmet off, brushing her sour belt hair.

“I’ve tried plenty of medicine, but nothing seems to be working to cure the sweating or the tiredness. They look like they’re sleeping well and their chambers are at normal temperature, it’s a real headache…”

“I see…you can run back to the infirmary. I’ll take it from here, ‘kay?.”

“Okay, but you better let me know if their condition gets worse or anything. It’s my job to heal!”

“Please make your way out…”

Bitter Candy walked down the hallway and out of sight, Dumpling standing up from the wall.

…

…

“I know you were listening, general. You can come out now…”

Salsa Cookie popped around the corner from a nearby hallway.

“Skip the formalities, Dumpling. I’ve heard it all, it’s making me worried for our majesty’s condition.”

“It goes without saying. Ever since they came back from Beast-Yeast by blueberry birds, their condition has been…flaring up. I don’t want to say it’s getting worse, rather..more frequent..”

“This can’t be a coincidence. This is happening every time they come back from their trips to the Ancient Heroes lately! Don’t you think they might have something to do with this?”

“We can’t assume that, but we can’t rule out that this is just any ordinary fever either-“

“This “sickness” gets worse every time they go with them and now I’m hearing them mumble to themself and the frequent visits to Chamomile Cookie?” Something isn’t right here…”

“I have my own thoughts, but I’ll need more time to gather them before making conclusions.”

“So what do we do? Let them rot in their chambers until the next Ancient Hero comes busting down our castle doors?!”

“No, what they need…is a break. To get away from all this. We can manage through kingdom while they’re away…”

“Y/N leaving the kingdom was the whole reason they’re like this!”

“No, not just anywhere, but a place I’ve visited a while ago. The Flower City…”

———————————————————————

Bold text = Dumpling Cookie

Dumpling Cookie opened the door to your chambers, she could see the medicine and therapist papers scattered about on your table. One bottle was meant to help have good night dreams, so it subtly shocked her to see that the bottle was empty.

“Y/N?”

You turned your body in bed to face her, Dumpling’s eyes widen to see your tired state. It wasn’t a sleep related tiredness, but rather..it felt like your soul was tired…Dumpling’s tone took on a more gentle and soft tone.

“Me and Salsa Cookie were talking about your condition…”

“I know, it’s becoming a bad habit lately, I’ve tried many things like medicine or sleeping during the day. I just feel..stuck.”

“Well, I might have something to help with that. I know a place that I’ve visited a whole back, the Flower City of the Fluffy Rice Cake Continent…”

“Oh right…you told me about that place before…”

“Yes, and I do believe that it might help with what ails you…”

“I can’t. I’ve been leaving the kingdom too often lately, I need to stay and tend to my kingly/queenly duties…”

“Me, Crowned, and Salsa will handle the kingdom in your stead again. Please, at least give it a shot…we will explain things to the others if they ask…”

Dumpling went to gently hold your hand in the bed, as she gave you a pleading look. You look around your room, seeing the state it was in.

Then you look at yourself…so enclosed, so withdrawn into your sheets…

…

…

No…

You were not going to let them win….

With a determined look, you sit up from your bed and take off the sheets.

“Maybe you’re right. A change of scenery from Crispía might be what I need to feeling better again…”

———————————————————————

And just like that, you were ready to hop on the airship to the Flower City. Picking up your bag of things, you made your way to port, looking down at the ground as you reflect…

“There’s nowhere you can hide, cookie….”

Of course….you can slightly see her snake slitted eyes out of the corner of yours…

“Put as much distance between yourself and us, it doesn’t change anything. Completely futile…”

“YOOHOOO! Trying to get away from me, you silly~? I happen to be quite the patient one, y’know! Especially with you~!”

And then there was two…it’s only a matter of time before…

“Ha! Squirm all you like, Y/N Cookie, it’s only a matter of time before you’re broken~ I will revel the day I get you on your knees~!”

You felt their hands crawling on your back….her voice was sounding right behind you.

“You will always be..ours…”

“…..I know..…”

“Wait, really? It was that easy-“

“But we’ll see about that.”

You mustered up an air of your previous confidence. Something you haven’t felt in a while…

You didn’t feel the hands anymore.

You didn’t see the eyes anymore either. Their presence just wasn’t felt anymore as you approach the airship.

“Good afternoon, passenger! Are you joining us on this flight? It’s heading for the Flower City on the Fluffy Rice Cake Continent!”

“Yes, I have my ticket here!”

“Hmm..okay! Everything looks accordingly! Please take your seat, we’ll be taking off very soon!”

“Thank a bunch.”

You hopped aboard and sat down, instinct telling you to look out the window to watch the land around you. Sunny day, generous foliage, petals falling to the ground by the wind.

Peaceful…just like how you wished you could go back to being….

“Excuse me!”

You were snapped out of your thoughts to turn to your left, towards the aisle between both sides of the ship.

“Are you heading into the Flower City too?”

“Yup, going there for a brief getaway. Stress from life and all.”

“Stress? Don’t worry, maybe my incense can help?”

“Incense?”

The cookie brought her incense lamp out and gently lights it up, allowing the sweet aroma to flow.

“Ah, it’s a pretty lovely smell, I can tell you that! It’s…actually chipping away at my stress a bit.”

“Ehehe, scents can hold great power! Able to relax even the most stressed out of cookies!”

“Yeah, thank you. I needed that.”

“Since this is your first time to Flower City, I’d be happy to show you around!”

“Oh, there’s no need to do that. I brought a map of the continent-“

“It’s outdated, I know the city and I’m okay going with you!”

The ship intercom came on, halting the cookie’s talk with you.

“Attention, passengers. This is your captain speaking, the airship to the Flower City will be departing shortly! Please take your seats!”

“Oh! I almost forgot to take my seat. Please, if you don’t mind!”

The cookie went to sit down next to you in your seat!

Wasn’t she planning on going to another seat?!

[hasufin]

So, this is a thing.

You might hear pregnant women talk about "baby brain", and observe how someone who used to be the most organized, punctual person on Earth is now scatter-brained and can't talk about anything except their kids.

Baby brain is real. It's literally the mother's brain being rewired to think babies are cute, and to make her a better parent (results definitely vary).

Moreover, other adults experience the same thing when around babies and small children: your brain changes to think of them as adorable little beings who you love and care about. It takes longer - months of being around children to have any effect at all, usually, compared to the pregnant mother's neurological changes which are profound and happen in a matter of weeks. The default for adults who aren't around kids is more akin to a vague disgust or indifference.

Now, I wish to remind folks of that old adage: "The customer is always right in matters of taste." In this case that means if you think little kids are cute and wonderful, you're right. If you think little kids are kinda annoying and grating, you're also right. There's no wrong here, it's just not everyone likes kids.

Now, my own suspicion is, both of these mindsets have evolutionary advantages. Obviously liking kids is a good trait to have for parents and people in households with children. Not liking kids... well, I'd point out our evolutionary ancestors were probably not notable for impulse control, and raising Someone Else's Kids is not an evolutionary win in most cases.

However, in our society it's not atypical for familial bonds to persist across geographic distances: in other words, it's perfectly normal now to not live in the same household as your older sister who has children, but nonetheless to have the social obligation to attend piano recitals or whatever. Which means the adults who aren't enamored of children are reasonably likely to be forced into circumstances which they find vaguely annoying - but not often enough for their brains to go "Oh, so we're in a family with these kids and they're cute!".

So, my very-not-professional thought on this is, if you have kids and want to maintain close personal relationships with childfree adults, you're going to need to consider that the middle ground here is the worst option. Either convince them to get enough exposure to kids that they do get used to and like them, or respect that they don't like kids and try to not put them in a bind where they have to grit their teeth and deal with the experience lest they offend you.

Obviously, that goes for the childfree adults, too - either be deeply involved, or politely decline stuff that's going to make you feel like you're being low-key tortured in an auditorium.

Going to see children and adolescents dance badly, play ball badly, sing badly, play recorder badly because they are young: YES! YOU ARE LEARNING! INCREDIBLE!

[remxedmoon]

You should tell us about color psychology that sounds cool as hell

YES… HA HA HA… YES!

GGGOD I WISH I WASN’T OUT OF THE HOUSE RIGHT NOW. but i’ve been thinking about colors literally all day so you all get to be subject to my madness! sorry this is long and rambly wauaua. nightmarishly long post under the cut.

okay. first things first, a few basics. color theory and color psychology tend to get confused a lot in discussions, but they usually refer to different things. color theory is more about we physically perceive colors (color wheels and color schemes the like), while color psychology focuses on our emotional response to colors. if you’re familiar with the children’s hospital color theory post, that poster wasn’t actually talking about color theory, but color psychology (and also it’s incredibly surface level and heavily misunderstands the subject because in what fucking universe does the quantity of positive associations with a color matter more than the context it’s used in and sorry i have personal beef with this tumblr post).

color theory is also a special interest of mine but i’m not gonna touch on it too much here because it’s not entirely important. mmmaybe another time…

essentially, certain colors (and color combinations) have associations in our brains and that affect our behavior and emotions. these associations are also very much affected by the context a color is used in. colors don’t exist in a vacuum! so while red can symbolize passion and love when used in something like a dress or a bouquet of flowers, it has a very different connotation when it’s, say, splattered on the walls or smeared on the ground in a snail trail.

or for a less Children’s Hospital Themed example, i’ll put my euphrasie and king designs here!

(of course the saturation and brightness of these blues play a massive part in how they’re perceived but this is not a post about color theory this is n)

and, of course, combining colors in a piece can also change their meanings!! i’m about to get real fucking normal.

i’m gonna be focusing on the color combo of red and yellow here because it’s the one that’s most relevant to my art (and also it’s really interesting.) basically, seeing these two colors together activates the part of our brain that controls our appetite, making us actually feel hungry. this is why so many food companies use red and yellow in their branding! it’s neat stuff!!

also, if you’re familiar with it, this is why the mv for butcher vanity uses this color palette!! along with red’s general associations with danger and blood, the color combo also physically induces hunger. pretty fitting for a song about cannibalism!

(there is also red’s association with lust and passion and how that intersects with the double meaning in the lyrics but i cannot derail this post into being an analysis of butcher vanity i’m sorry. we’d be here all week. maybe another day... wipes a tear from my eye)

and i think this might be the reason why some people feel hungry when they see my art, even when i’m not drawing food. while i don’t tend to use red outright, most of my art has very warm undertones (red-oranges and yellows especially), which could be activating that hunger response??

(ah fuck color theory managed to weasel its way into this post again)

admittedly this part is just speculation on my end. i think my rendering style and Shapes also play a role in it, but it’s interesting for me to think about!!

this is only scratching the surface of how complicated colors can get. i was going to go on an entire tangent about color grading and how green lighting can make a scene feel unnerving but this post is already Too Fucking Long. aaaa super sorry if this is Rambly or hard to understand!! i’m not Entirely sure how much the average person knows about color theory and psychology so if there’s any confusing terms here i’m fine with adding stuff for clarity!

wauauuaa thank you so much for asking!!!! i love talking about colors.

tl;dr colors have a bunch of different emotions and meanings tied to them, but you’ve gotta pay attention to the context in which it’s being used. so maybe take a step back before you put that thick red trail on the floor of your children’s hospital.

[tthoroughfare]

kerosene // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: the setup of a slow burn between you and ellie.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: jackson!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 1.7k

so... this actually started out as NOTHING. i planned for it to be nothing. just me, my pages app and my love for jackson!ellie & that fuck ass hoodie against the world. howeverrrr i may or may not have written almost 10k so far that i'm planning to split up (and continue) into an ongoing series just focusing on you and ellie living in jackson, spending time with your friends, slowly falling in love. real piners rise

god i just love jackson ellie so much. her little nerdy cocky self

the idea of being friends and pining over each other for literal years because you’re both too scared to say anything… catching the other staring, having a few little moments here and there but chalking it up to nothing because you both don’t believe the other would see you like that.

and then she starts dating cat and you’re just like welp. guess this is really never ever gonna happen after all. you let yourself mope for a while, not wanting to go out as much for fear of seeing them together and feeling that strange pang in your chest — just overall being weird and avoiding ellie. you feel silly, really, locking yourself away and listening to sad music over someone you were never even with.

you selfishly hope it doesn’t last long, that it’s just a fling, but when months go by and they’re still together, you come to some sort of acceptance. you even date someone else for a short while to try and take your mind off of her, but quickly realize you’re just searching for scattered parts of her in someone else. and something in your gut tells you that while nothing’s wrong within the relationship, it just doesn’t feel right. doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to.

meanwhile, ellie’s mindset was that she never really saw you as attainable in the first place. and she did genuinely really like cat, so when she initiated the relationship, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to see where it went. you were always at the back of her mind, though. she didn’t like the way you’d distanced yourself. you were never best friends, but definitely fairly close. she felt the switch almost overnight, the way you stopped going out of your way to talk to her, stopped asking her to tag along when you'd hang out with jesse and dina. she didn’t know what your deal was. the thought that you might be jealous did cross her mind, but she quickly swatted it away. why would you be jealous? it’s only her.

when you started seeing someone yourself, it was like confirmation. nothing was ever gonna happen, you weren’t jealous; how could any of that be the case when you were right there, with someone else? she cursed herself for even thinking about any of it, guilty conscience thick when her mind would then turn to cat. she knew she shouldn’t be deliberating whether you were jealous, whether you liked her, whether anything could ever happen between you, when she had a girlfriend.

she tried her hardest to push you out of her mind whenever you’d arise. she still saw you around, sometimes alone, sometimes with your girlfriend. you’d talk pleasantly, share a few laughs, but it wasn’t like it used to be.

and then one day, when she’s on her way home, she sees you by yourself. you’re sitting under a tree reading, headphones in. she can’t help but notice you look a little melancholy, like you don’t want to be bothered. she deliberates on whether to disturb you or not, stopping, then going to walk away, then stopping again. against her better judgement, she wanders over to you and nudges you gently with the side of her foot.

you look up, offering a small smile and tugging your headphones out. “hey.”

“hey.” ellie mirrors you, shooting back a soft smile of her own. a beat of slightly awkward silence passes as she tries to think of the reason she actually came over. she doesn’t even have one.

“what’s up?” you ask after a few seconds.

“uh… not much. just… uh… wanted to say hi.”

the corner of your mouth quirks into a slight smirk. “well… you just did.”

ellie breathes out a quiet chuckle, bringing her hands together to mess with her fingers. “very funny.” she pauses, then hesitantly crouches and sits beside you. “whatcha reading?”

you turn the cover so that she can see it. “mystery book,” you say, eyes flitting between ellie and the novel, before you rest it back in your lap, starting to lightly read again.

“you want me to tell you who the killer is?”

you chuckle, looking back up at ellie. “sure, take a stab at it.”

ellie’s eyebrows raise slightly. “pun intended?”

you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow as you realize what you just said. “nope. guess i’m just too witty.”

she looks down and smiles lightly, before looking up at the sky in feigned thought. she clicks her fingers. “it’s the priest.”

you let out a laugh. “there isn’t even a priest in it.”

“that’s what you think,” she quips back, feigning seriousness. “he will be introduced in… 43 pages.”

you roll your eyes, unable to hold back a smile. “shut up.”

“nope. wanna hear some more of my predictions? 100% accuracy guaranteed.”

“sure.”

“… you’re in a shitty mood,” ellie says matter-of-factly, before her voice softens. “seriously, you good? you look all…”

she trails off, gesturing at you slightly.

you chew at the inside of your cheek. truth be told, you are in a shitty mood, but you didn’t realize it was visible. plus, you don’t really want to talk about it. especially not to ellie, of all people. “yeah, nah, i’m fine.”

she just gives you a look in reply — one to say, ‘i’m not stupid’. to which, you let out a small sigh and shake your head. you’re not good at lying to ellie. “okay, i guess i may be in a… tiny bit of a slump.”

she shuffles a bit, leaning back on her hands. “why? what’s wrong?”

you pick at your nail, pausing. “i don’t know, man. just… yeah. stuff.”

“what kinda stuff?”

you curse her in your head for pushing, but simultaneously feel a pulse in your chest that she cares. you don’t particularly want to talk to ellie about your relationship. or lack thereof. it feels embarrassing, for some reason. in the end, you let out a small, defeated sigh. “ugh. just… so… i’m not with you-know-who anymore.”

ellie raises her eyebrows, trying to ignore the way she feels selfish relief. “damn. that sucks.”

you shrug. “i suppose so.”

another awkward pause occurs as ellie tries to think of what to say. comforting people has never really been her forte, but she wants to try for you. plus, she’s curious. “…wh-what happened?”

you look up, eyes flitting around the scenery, pulling a small face as you think. “nothing, really. just… wasn’t working. like… didn’t really feel right, y’know?”

she quirks an eyebrow, looking sideways at you. “so it was you, huh?”

you let out something between a breathed out chuckle and a groan. “…yeah. i felt really mean.”

“damn. you’re ruthless. heartbreaker,” she teases deadpan in response, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

to which, you roll your eyes and snicker, the smile lingering on your face. even in the worst mood, you’d noticed, ellie could always make you laugh somehow. “shut up. it wasn’t like that.”

“then what was it like?”

you shrug lightly, toying with the cover of your book. “i don’t know. went as best as it could, i suppose. i have nothing against her, nothing happened, it just… yeah. like i said. wasn’t right.”

ellie hums in acknowledgment, looking away in thought. her silence feels a little uncomfortable, driving you to babble on. “i don’t know, she’s nice and everything, but it just felt like we were kind of… wasting each other’s time. i didn’t see it actually going anywhere. i know we’re still young, and… y’know, it’s hardly like we have to marry each other or whatever. but something just felt missing. i don’t know.”

you glance at ellie briefly, then back down at your book, tracing the cover art with your fingertip. “like… you and cat. you guys seem happy. what does that feel like?”

she feels a little taken off guard. she’s not used to talking about this with anyone; anyway, nobody’s ever really asked. she shifts, sitting cross legged and leaning her forearms on her thighs, messing with her hands. “uh… i don’t know. i haven’t really thought about it.”

you furrow your eyebrows slightly. not really the reaction you were expecting. “oof. what does that mean?”

ellie lets out a drawn out hum, wrinkling her chin. “… i don’t know. i suppose it just feels… hm. it’s just… what it is. i guess.”

you pull a face, blowing air through your nose. “wow. don’t get too sappy on me, now. you’re gushing.”

her eyes roll in response to your sarcasm, a lopsided smirk on her face. “shut up.”

you mirror her smile, meeting her eyes for a few seconds, trying to shove down the way it burns a hole through you, makes your chest feel like it’s constricting.

the moment is broken by a call of ellie’s name. you both automatically look up, spotting cat strolling over with a bright smile on her face. 

“speak of the devil,” you murmur jokingly, turning to look back at ellie briefly.

she scoffs in response, moving to stand up. when cat presses a small kiss to her lips in greeting, resting a hand on her arm, you avert your eyes.

cat looks down at you, offering a soft smile and a wave. “hey.”

“hey,” you reply, looking back up. you did really like cat. you weren’t necessarily friends, but she was cool, and funny, and always nice to you. you flit your eyes between her and ellie as she turns back, addressing her girlfriend.

“i was on my way to yours. we still watching a movie tonight?”

ellie looks down at you, then back at cat, an unreadable expression on her face. “uh… yeah, yeah. for sure.”

cat smiles at ellie, taking her hand and lightly swinging it between them. “… well, we’ll leave you to it,” she says to you.

you nod slowly. “yup. catch you two later.”

you wave half-heartedly at them both as they walk away hand-in-hand, free hands returning the gesture. you busy yourself with putting your headphones back in and choosing a new song, but if you were looking up, you’d have seen ellie look back at you. twice.

[marzipanandminutiae]

I didn't get the sewing job

I just.

why do I even keep going. nothing's ever going to change and nothing's ever going to work out and nobody's ever going to fucking want me

I'm going to get old working part-time jobs with no house and no family and no fucking future

and the economy's about to tank with Tr*mp so if I don't get something before that happens it's never going to

what's even the point honestly. when nothing ever-

[consistantly-changing]

[Image descriptions in order: a twitter thread by

@AlexandraErin "Alexandra Erin" which says "The Shirley Exception is a bit of mental sleight of hand that allows people to support a policy they profess to disagree with. It's called the Shirley Exception because... well, I mean, *surely* there must be exceptions, right?

"Let's imagine that in response to suspicions about overbroad use of service animal rules, a city somewhere decides to just swing the pendulum 100% in the other direction. Restaurants, public accommodations, etc., no longer have to recognize any service animals.

"And in the aftermath of the change, existing rules about where animals may and may not go apply full force.]

["A lot of people would back the change because Obviously Some People Take Advantage. (Positing that someone, somewhere is taking advantage is a great way to get the masses on your side in our politics, sadly.)

"Now if you point out the existence of a blind person or an epileptic person who has a service dog for everyday navigation of life or for life-saving purposes, the Good People who just don't want anyone to take advantage will tell you:

"No one's talking about legitimate cases."

"And if you point out that the rule that they're backing would affect what they call "legitimate cases", the response will be:

"But surely there will be an exception."]

["If you back up an anti-abortion activist to the point where they actually have to grapple with a case where the parent would 100% die delivering a 100% non- viable fetus, you'll get the same answers:

"No one is talking about those cases." and "But surely there will be exceptions."

"All of those studies of people in Trump Country USA who were shocked, shocked, that the kind man next door who is a good father and a great neighbor and a real part of the community was dragged away by ICE?

They all thought that surely he'd be an exception.]

["If you point out that the laws/policies they're talking about *don't* offer such exceptions and in some cases explicitly forbid them, if you say "So let's put those exceptions in writing."... well, then you're back to Surely People Will Take Advantage.

"See, the people who are sure that Surely There Will Be Exceptions are very comfortable with the idea of justice being decided on a case-by-case basis. They've always had teachers, bosses, bureaucrats, even traffic cops giving them some slack for reasons of compassion and logic.]

["I mean, if Officer Smalltown von Cul-De- Sac could give them a warning when they were caught with recreational amounts of pot as kids because it was harmless and they Had Futures, then Surely there must be similar exceptions for everyone?

"That post about "I never thought the leopards would eat my face, sobbed woman who voted for Face-Eating Leopards Party" is very true, and it goes farther than personal immunity to a very generalized and broad Just World Fallacy.

"Surely, they think, surely the leopards will know to only eat the *right* faces, the faces that need eating, and leave alone all the faces that don't deserve that.]

["But if we try to lay out rules to protect faces from being eaten by leopards, people will take advantage. Best to keep it simple and count on decency and reason to rule the day.

"So moderate conservatives, what we might call "everyday conservatives", the ones who don't wear MAGA hats or tea party costumes and think that Mr. Trump fella should maybe stay off of Twitter, they will vote for candidates and policies that they don't actually agree with...

"...because in their mind the exact law being prescribed is just a tool in the chest, an option on the table, which they expect to be wielded fairly and judiciously. Surely no one would do anything so unreasonable as actually enforcing it as written! Not when that would be bad!]

["And then they are confused, shocked, and even insulted when people hold them accountable for their support of the monstrous policy.

"I didn't vote for leopards to eat *your* face! I just thought we needed some face-eating leopards generally. Surely you can't blame me for that!"

"The old "Defense of Marriage" laws are another textbook example of this.

Many of them included language that expressly forbade giving similar benefits (like hospital visitation) to same-sex relationships.]

["Yet the people who voted for them, in many cases, wanted it to be known that No One Is Talking About Stopping You From Visiting Your Loved One In The Hospital. And Surely There Will Be An Exception.

"The Shirley Exception is how people who are only mundanely monstrous, moderately monstrous, wind up supporting policies that are completely monstrous.

And when they do, they always want credit for their good intentions towards those they see as deserving, not the outcomes.]

["I'm describing a phenomenon here and I don't have a solution to its existence. While convincing people that laws that don't specify exceptions functionally *don't have them* might work sometimes on (ironically) a case-by-case basis, what is really needed is a broader shift.

"People need to get used to thinking about the harm policies will do as a real part of the policy, not a hypothetical that Reasonable People of Good Will Can Surely Work Around.

"Maybe the tack of saying, "If it was your life on the line, wouldn't you want that to be in writing?" would work. I don't know. Like I said, I don't have a solution here. This is just a thing that happens."]

The Shirley Exception

[saras-almanac]

So I’ve been sitting on my feelings about the BuckTommy breakup and handling of it for a while, trying to get my thoughts in order. And after a while of thinking on it—and the recent Lou interview dropping making me feel like my feelings are valid—kind of made me want to just blurt them all out and hope for the best. So this is that.

Ultimately the entire handling of the BuckTommy breakup feels cruel. And not just cruel in an intentional way, but cruel in a casually, not even given any thought cruelty, which is worse sometimes. And to be honest, I think that’s part of why I’ve been struggling with it so much. (That and the echoes of Magicians season 4, which if you know you know).

What I mean by cruelty is just the lack of any real effort or care put into this storyline, one that they had previously been handled with so much care and concern and were praised (rightly so) for at the time. It’s the way they introduce this Tommy as Abby’s ex thing, which makes hardly any sense at all, but also feels cruel in the intention of laughing at the invisible string of fate theory between them. It’s they way that they’re 6 months anniversary and not only have they not talked about this, but Buck (Evan Buckley) didn’t get him a gift that feels cruel because that feels so wildly out of character for him. It’s the way they had the break up play into some bisexual stereotypes at best and inherently biphobic at worst by having Maddie suggest Abby turned him gay or that Buck needs to “explore” things to figure out what he wants or that Buck “Doesn’t know what pond to jump back into” of it all. (Not to mention the comments from OS about wanting Buck to fuck—which I’m not getting into because I didn’t read it and as a bisexual woman, don’t feel the need to go and try to find something that might upset me more.)

All those reasons are why the breakup itself is cruel to the characters, but it’s also cruel to those of us watching, and especially to anyone and everyone who loved and/or related to the character of Tommy, who we see walk away much much worse off than when we found him. It’s the way the story (intentionally or not) is framing it like a romcom break up – make up – pining storyline which they apparently are not doing according to interviews. It’s the way they didn’t give any sort of closure to Tommy for the character or for the audience.

There’s a reason that people lose themselves in stories—it’s because they follow certain rules and contracts. It’s expected that stories do not match up to real life because while things don’t have bigger meanings in life or they don’t work out according to plan, in stories, everything happens for a reason. Because that’s the whole point of what you’re consuming. And along with that, emotional moments are meant to feel cathartic in a way, at least eventually, because you were able to see the bigger picture, to feel the finality to things, and to really understand what’s being said and what’s happening. This breakup does none of that and actually seems to have been included and rushed for shock value and that to me, is just shitty, lazy writing.

If you were going to break them up and have no desire for any sort of reunion or closure, why not make it intentional? Tommy could be the one who wants marriage and kids and settling down and Buck internally freaks out because theoretically he wants that but maybe it’s too soon and as much as Tommy loves Buck, he’s not going to wait around and hope that Buck feels the same for him because he’s been hurt too many times like that. Or Tommy could be leaving for another state because he’s no longer going to be a firefighter or needs to go for family reasons or gets a job at a different station that he applied for ages ago and he has everything all set up and isn’t going to ask Buck to leave his entire life for Tommy, so they decide to breakup even if it hurts both of them. In either of those cases, it’s sad and devastating, but at least there would be some closure to it and understanding of it for both the characters and the audience and some peace knowing that at least these two are going to be moving toward happiness in whatever way that means for them.

Instead, what we have, is a hail-mary last-second breakup that comes out of nowhere and feels abrupt and crappy in the way we leave Tommy specifically because we might never see him again. And that is the crux of the issue. Because the way this was written, the understanding is that they are going to get back together or reunion or at least have that final closure conversation—because that’s what happens in stories. We see this type of surprise breakups, breakups where they issue is they love each other too much and are afraid to go further (Athena/Bobby and Maddie/Chimney to name two examples we saw in universe) only to eventually fight to be together and realize that if they don’t take a chance they might never know how amazing it is. So the fact that it’s set up to follow this same path while nearly every interview is telling the opposite, again demonstrates that casual cruelty as well as an inherent failure on the writing. If you have to go in interview and explain what it is you wrote or are telling, then you have failed as a writer. It’s really as simple as that.

This breakup doesn’t feel set up or foreshadowed, it just feels like they added it on because they didn’t want to do anything more with it? And that feels incredibly crappy as a decision to so many people who related to Buck and Tommy and them coming out later in life and all those other things. I’m rambling and on my phone and feeling a lot of things that I can’t fully express right now, but the long and short of it: If this was always intended to be the final time we see Tommy, this breakup is even crueler than intended.

[transyashiro]

Hi, genuine question, why transandrophobia is not real? I just thought it was a word to describe the transphobia specifically targeted to transmascs, but if that is not the case id like to be corrected. Also your art is so beautiful I love it!

hey anon. firstly, thank you, i'm glad you like my art. secondly, i am at the end of the day just a guy who draws sometimes. this is a question which was already answered many times by transfeminists on here, and ideally you'd want to get the perspectives of tma people rather than mine. and just in general, keep up with discussions of transmisogyny and listen to transfems, yeah?

all that said, since you are asking me personally... to put it as simply as i can: transandrophobia, or transmisandry, is not real because misandry is not real. that should be the end of the discussion, really. there is no need for a special word to describe transphobia targeted at transmascs, because transphobia and/or other forms of oppression (real ones, Not misandry) depending on any particular situation already cover everything. why is there a desire for a special word to begin with, anyway? girls got one, we want one too? c'mon

but also like, all that aside, regardless of how real or not real transandrophobia is, it is a dog whistle. if someone associates with the transandrophobia crowd, they are most likely a transmisogynist. that should be enough of a reason to steer away from those guys and not trust them. sure, some posts by them might seem compelling or validating at a glance, i've definitely seen younger trans guys who don't know any better start looking in that direction because they feel like they are finally being given a tool to discuss their experiences. i assume that's partially why your question is framed like that, too, because a simple "we just want a word to discuss our oppression" is a lot more convincing than "we hate trans women and want to make them out to be the true oppressors" or "we're just men rights activists but with a trans flag, which also means that we are incapable of oppressing trans women because of our inherent connection to womanhood. don't worry about what that logic implies about our views of trans women" or... you get the picture. it's transmisogyny through and through, you don't even need to dig much

again, i hope you'll look more into what trans women have to say on this, it would do more good than my short clumsy explanation, but hopefully it at least gives you some vague idea

[journalofimprobablethings]

I think the thing about your first response that is provoking knee-jerk reactions (at least, it did for me) is that it implies that character death's only purpose in fiction is to "maximize pain" for the readers, and that any other purpose it might serve can be found through other means. And I don't think that's true at all.

To a certain extent I agree with the OP commenter that it's not necessary to kill a character simply for 'emotional impact' or 'realism'. If an author's main goal with a character death is just to "inflict maximum pain" on the reader, then that's probably not very good writing, and not "necessary". The death needs to do more than just hurt the reader; it should affect the story in some way, either in how other characters react to the death, or how events change because of it.

But I also agree with friskdaferret's argument that some character deaths are necessary for the story that the author is trying to tell. That's the key. Could they choose to write it a different way? Sure. They're the author, it's their story, it's all made up. But then it would be a different story.

I know that you consider the Holes argument to be a bit of a tangent, but for the sake of using an example that's already been brought up, Sam's death in Holes serves a particular purpose in the story. It reflects real-world racism in a very direct way: black men being lynched for having a relationship with a white woman (or after being accused of assaulting/touching a white woman, whether they did or not) is a real fact of American history. It's an ugly fact, and it's something that Louis Sacher decided was important to include in the story. For some kids reading that book, it may even have been their first exposure to that sort of racism. Having Sam leave Kate for other reasons, as you suggest, would change the story, and would make a different point. It's not the story Louis Sacher was trying to tell.

Your argument, if I understand correctly, is that sometimes, the potential pain inflicted on a reader who is very attached to the character might outweigh an author wanting to make a particular point or tell a particular story. How then, do we handle telling stories that are inherently about painful topics? What is the "utilitarian calculus" as it relates to a story like Orpheus and Eurydice which is about grief; or tragedies like Hamlet?

I also think that if you're going to make that argument, you have to consider the other side - that is, what benefit do those deaths, as written, bring to readers? Why has the author included it in the story? What do people get out of it? That answer is going to be different for different readers and stories, but there is a reason that death has been such a prominent trope in human storytelling since forever. Death and grief are inherent, immutable facts of life, and so storytellers are going to find ways to engage with and examine it.

Two examples that came to mind while I was thinking about this post were The Fault in Our Stars by John Green and Babel by R.F. Kuang. Both of those books contain absolutely devastating moments of loss in connection with characters we have become very close to as readers. I don't think I've ever cried as hard at a story as I cried at those two books in particular.

Both of those stories would not be what they are, or say what they wanted to say, if those deaths didn't happen. They are a book about cancer and a book about imperialism and the violence it engenders, respectively. Both those topics are impossible to handle without at least talking about death.

Now, would I give people a warning before I recommend those books to them? Absolutely, because it's the sort of thing you probably want to be in the right headspace for. But do I think that those books should have been written differently, just because the stories were painful? Absolutely not.

I don't know that I agree with any sort of utilitarian argument about the potential effect of a character death on readers vs its function in the story, in part because that sort of thing is impossible to quantify. How would you ever possibly judge what was "too much"? It's entirely subjective, and in the end, authors do not have control over what a reader's reactions to their story will be.

I also think that to a certain extent, readers are responsible for their own reading experience. If a person does not want to encounter painful moments in their reading, that is their responsibility to tailor their reading accordingly. If they as a reader know they are prone to making deep connections with characters such that it might genuinely hurt them if that character then dies, they can take steps to avoid those sorts of stories, or to use sites like doesthedogdie.com to check whether a story has something that they don't want to/can't engage with. But it's not an author's responsibility to tailor their story so that it doesn't make anyone sad. That's not the point of fiction.

Fiction is a reflection of life, and a way for us as humans to examine and process all aspects of it, including the aspects that hurt, that are awful, the parts that don't make sense. It's perfectly valid for someone to not want to engage with challenging fiction, but to say that authors shouldn't be writing it at all because it might somewhere cause someone grief? I can't agree with that.

im starting to think you guys dont like it when stories make you feel things

[kwillow]

Mail time. Theo clearly isn't the best candidate to lecture people on "good manners" but that's not going to stop him.

Also using this as a header for more LORE RAMBLES: THEO EDITION, because again I have more interesting asks about Theo than I can answer with drawings -- so REAMS OF WORDS it is!

Questions and answers under the cut...

Well, Theo isn’t terribly fond of the guy. He’s never met him, of course, but from his research into Old Kingdom history, he thinks of Ambroys as a conceited, shallow, disloyal, cowardly liar – and he’s not exactly wrong, ha.

If they met in the past, when Ambroys was his cocky, younger self, I think Ambroys would take advantage of Theo’s poor social skills and unpopularity by bullying him for some cheap points with other people who would find amusement in that. Ambroys wouldn’t have much use for him otherwise. Theo would spend far more time seething about Ambroys and plans for his revenge on that POMPOUS POPINJAY than Ambroys would spend thinking about Theo at all.

If they met in modern times – well that’s something we’ll address eventually, but Theo and Ambroys would not get along much better. Present-day Ambroys does not like mages one bit. Also, he is quite used to being literally worshipped. A little hater like Theo would not be looked upon kindly.

Thank you!! Now you too are present in a lore dump!

Theo is indeed a fan of the performing arts, and art in general (though he is, predictably, very particular in his tastes). Opera and such was performed during Ambroys’ time, and much of it was likely lost during the apocalyptic era between the time of the Old Kingdoms and the modern day, but I imagine some scant examples of the genre (and traditional plays by the likes of Furry Shakespeare, because Shakespeare is one of those people who just exists in every universe no matter how bizarre) would still survive into the Theo’s time.

Theo’s hometown of Northcrest would be too small and rural to have a real theatre, so experiencing “proper” performances would be rare treats for him, when he followed his mother on business excursions to the rich districts of Ironfrost. I love that you picked up on the fact that he would want his own private box, haha. He wants to observe, not be observed!

You’re right that musicals would probably still be in their vaudeville and burlesque era, and Theo would find them to be distasteful, vulgar pap suited only for the soft, feeble minds of the unwashed masses, not a refined intellectual like himself. (Which is funny because I think a real-world modern-day Theo would like musicals because in some ways, he is a theater kid without the charisma or confidence to actually perform.) While his mother did not enjoy theatre to the same extent he did (her tastes were more in feats of choreographry and human/anthro excellence like ballet), they would bitch about the decline of society together if they saw a poster for one of those terrible, gaudy cabaret catastrophes. In general, Theo hates anything modern and likes anything old-fashioned, and that shifts according to the decade he lives in. An Amaranthine Theo would hate swing music, but a real-world modern-day Theo would like it. Embarrassing!

Also, he will memorize and quote his favorite soliloquies at people for the faintest of reasons. Don’t test him.

No, I don’t think Hyden has strong enough arms or a sturdy enough back to lift an entire person, even one as little as Theo. Hyden might be large but he’s not as powerful as his height and bulk make him look. I think even Theo is more physically adept than Hyden is (and that’s not saying much).

Also, while he would learn to tolerate it from someone like Hyden (in the same way your cat might begrudgingly tolerate you grabbing their little feet), Theo does not like being picked up by people. I can speak from experience than when you’re a short person, people love to pick you up randomly to establish dominance and it’s not a very dignified experience. Theo has a hard enough time being taken seriously even without being lugged about like a wheezing sack of flour.

Theo would be the first to inform you he is not the person to consult on romantic matters. At the same time, he would still give his advice: stop being a fatuous little fool and turn your efforts to matters of greater importance, like work or supporting your family or collecting every edition of your favorite encyclopedia or hitting your head against a wall. All would be better ways to spend your energy.

(I think you’re alluding to a person with a crush on him – God knows why such a person would exist in his universe – asking him for romantic advice, but I feel compelled to specify that the message he’d give a man seeking instructions on how to deal with a lady would be akin to “GET A JOB. STAY AWAY FROM HER”)

(Or maybe you mean someone Theo has a crush on? Well, the answer would be the same. Theo isn't duplicitous enough or proud enough to try to swindle someone towards viewing him as a romantic prospect. But he sure wouldn't suggest they get with someone else. NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO BE IN LOVE. STOP IT, HE SAYS.)

Yes, those are self-inflicted injuries. He’s had a compulsion to bite and scratch himself ever since he was a kid. Sometimes as a punishment, sometimes as a ritual to quell distressing thoughts, sometimes out of the need to replace distressing sensations and events that are out of his control with one that is in his control, no matter how painful.

He does not particularly value his body nor its integrity. However, he is aware the scars are alarming, and finds them somewhat embarrassing reminders of his flaws in self-regulation. He deals with both the sight of the scars and the urge to harm by wearing his gloves, which is something he started doing in his late teens – they cover the marks and help redirect him by replacing the sensation of flesh with fabric when he goes to bite down.

On your question about Theo’s body-image: no, he does not care for how he looks. He likes that his eyes are grey (like mother’s) and that his fur is monochrome (like mother’s), and if pressed he might say the eyebrows aren’t bad, except for the parts where he’s pulled the hair out of them, but that’s it. He hates that he’s not just short but dwarfish, he does not like his heavy-set build, he would not choose to be born a rat, he despises his face, his teeth repulse him, he at least can make peace with the fact that he can’t grow facial hair because he’d never want a mustache like his father’s but it’s still somewhat emasculating, and on and on and on with the insecurities. He definitely feels physically inferior to other males. Your average man is not only much, much taller than him (and the world is cruel to a short king), but stronger and more classically virile as well. But he makes the best of that by dismissing those physical qualities as consolation prizes afforded to males who are obviously inferior to him intellectually, morally, and spiritually. He doesn’t care for brutes, but he doesn’t highly value machismo anyway… He thinks of himself as a gentleman whose best qualities reside in his mind and actions. A man who is reedy and petite but smarter or more charismatic than him is much more threatening to his ego than the bulkiest bruiser. (However, he will still try to fight both for dominance, either physically or verbally, and probably lose.)

Theo is highly offended and disgusted by nudity, both other’s and his own. Even states of mild undress are distressing to him, hence why he looks away when buttoning Hyden’s shirt. He’s willing to stomach some discomfort when it comes to helping a loved one, but only if it’s strictly necessary. He would pointedly not look and scold someone, even someone he was more comfortable with, if they were “too underdressed,” and freak out if they came into his vicinity in the nude. I think it would take years of gradual desensitization to lessen his negative reactions to nudity. It’s not just him being fussy, it borders on a phobia.

(Haha this shows how long I sit on asks before I get around to answering them SORRY...!!!!)

I don’t talk about it a lot because while the character’s sexual orientations do inform their lives and development, romance and sex are not usually at the top of my priority list when it comes to my stories… but I’ve alluded and mentioned directly that Theo is “canonically” bisexual (always feels weird to say “canon” about my imaginary friends, ha). But he is in denial/in the closet about it. Of course, he wouldn’t be aware of the concept of “bisexuality”, nor would that exact label exist in his world, so it’s not like he would identify that way even if he wasn’t repressing hardcore.

He is revolted by sex and intimacy, but that’s more due to his psychological baggage, his perception of his parent’s relationship and his cultural mores than something necessarily inborn or inherent to him.

(Hyden is actually Also Straight, possibly even straighter than Ambroys if we’re measuring by “creator’s admittance that character may be bi-curious one day.” I have a track record.)

Only if it’s karmic in some way, involving a person or persons he’s already predisposed to hating. Granted, dying of one’s own stupidity would be a form of justice in his eyes, but there’s limitations to that. Hearing about, say, an incident like Nutty Putty cave would not be amusing even though he would argue it’s the cave explorer’s “own fault” for going in there because it was such a gruesome and prolonged end, far outweighing the punishment Theo would find fair for such hubris. Of course, if the same cave explorer bullied him in prep school, then yes, it would be hilarious.

I don’t have a character named Herbert, so I am assuming you mean Theo here, from context. :’D

I’d like to draw Theo practicing his fencing some day! It’s on The List along with, er, fifty other drawings, ha. There’s just so much I need to make and so little time…

But besides that, Theo is not a particularly sporty guy. He doesn’t tend to enjoy competitive sports, either participating or watching. Physically he’s just not suited to them, and his schoolboy days did not endear him to them.

He does enjoy taking walks and admiring picturesque landscapes. He also hunted with his mother. One of the duties of the Norths is (or was, before he started shirking all his duties to focus entirely on his madness quest) to eliminate monstrous predators lurking on the outskirts of their territory before they could terrorize the mundane locals. Mages can sense magic, and thus are more capable of tracking down and felling corrupt magical beasts than your average person. Also, sometimes one wants a pheasant for dinner on special occasions. So, he grew up learning to hunt, and he’s decent with a rifle. He doesn’t go out to do much anymore, though. His mother’s death and subsequent self-imposed isolation exacerbated his already present issues with social phobia and paranoia, so he doesn’t feel safe outside his house. Someone could see him out there, and Something could happen. (He isn’t sure what exactly, but surely nothing good.)

During the course of Amaranthine’s story he is, of course, forced to go outside again and travel, so he’ll rediscover his hobby of killing animals again. …Good for him. I suppose.

(This is in reference to the tags I put on my post of Theo's romance meme: #ok one piece of commentary: brain problems + highly repressed upbringing = where i put theo on the kinky slider. it had to be there #you should think less '50 shades' and more '50 year old guys waxing poetic about quicksand scenes in old adventure films' for that one #he's not a quicksand guy. but that's the vibe.)

Hahaha, I appreciate your curiosity, but I’m not sure if it’s a terrific idea to share Theo’s “quicksand” equivalents. Alas, I don’t want to encourage the perception that my characters exist to be romantic or sexual wish-fulfillment, instead of the dysfunctional little narrative fidget toys they are, by going too in-depth too often on their hypothetical sex lives. Also, I get my (un)fair share of fetish-mining asks, and if I mention certain kinks, the senders of those asks might think they can wheedle that kind of smut art from me, which… is not the case, even if I did like the things Theo is partial to. Frankly, I don’t have time to draw smut art when I have so many comics of my characters angsting at each other that I ought to be drawing instead!!!

Anyway, complaining over. But I do know what Theo’s “interests” are, and don’t worry, they are suitably cringe. I find amusement in giving embarrassing proclivities to all my favorite characters, even if it will never come up in their stories. It keeps them humble.

The Theo befriending scenarios are becoming more elaborate…!

Magic can’t really do that in Amaranthine (it’s more limited than a lot of people think)! But even if you could, I think Theo might realize something was off eventually. Granted, he is blind to a lot of manipulation when he trusts someone, and for his own stupid reasons he trusts Hyden, so that alone would provide cover for some time. Being nice to him in Hyden’s guise might even fulfill some boyhood dreams of his, so that helps too. Still, I don’t think anyone but Hyden could manage to act like Hyden forever.

Theo abhors liars, manipulators, and traitors (I know, this is very funny considering I just talked about how Theo likes Hyden – again, Theo is not a great judge of character). While he would be mortified at his own gullibility, it’s not like he’d spare you any judgment for being the one to take advantage of his hospitality in the first place.

So, in attempting to befriend him, you would have 1) caused harm to someone he has charged himself with protecting by kidnapping Hyden, 2) committed the sin of deceiving him and 3) wounded his ego by exposing a huge vulnerability in his psychological armor. These are not crimes he is likely to excuse. Among Theo’s many faults are his capacity for spite and appetite for disproportionate vengeance. In other words, he would want to hurt you very, very badly.

Anyway, in summation, this is not a great way to try and win Theo’s affection. If befriending something hostile is what you’re after, I’d recommend purchasing a pet cobra or something, it would be more rewarding and less difficult to manage.

Ooh, this is another one of those “it depends” sort of questions… an Amaranthine Theo is completely unsuited for parenthood because he is just totally off his rocker and devoted to an impossible, nature-impugning, corruptive madness quest, so there’s not really much space left in his brain for any of the tasks involved in parenting.

Also, how well and in what way he would approach parenting would depend on if he has a partner and who they are, if the kid is biological (and therefore an extension of the North line) or adopted (and therefore might be spared some of those expectations), and what the kid or kids are like.

But, I’ll try to speak generally. He does put an importance on family so he would not be neglectful. In fact, I think he’d tend towards being smothering, way too over-protective. He would have high expectations for their academic career (despite flopping in his own) and would be upset if his children didn’t share his interest in intellectual pursuits. He lacks a lot of knowledge about life, and so he wouldn’t be able to pass that on to his children, despite desiring that they be self-sufficient and capable. He would try and keep them from being romantically involved until they could marry, which he wouldn’t think would be difficult considering how he himself is, but I think he would be disappointed and frustrated by the fact that most people (and therefore probably his kids) aren’t so averse to macking on other teenagers in their school days. His tendency towards being neurotic and temperamental would be an issue, and I think even if he tried to control his explosive tendencies around his children, they’d still pick up on it and be afraid of his moods. I think, with his immature development, he would have a lot of difficulty not descending to a teenager’s level of petty sniping if his teenage child did what teenagers do and started challenging him.

So… this is not painting a rosy picture. Don’t get me wrong, he’d try his best, and he would aim to be a good, supportive, and loving parent, but the man has issues. He wouldn’t be perfect. He might not even be good. He is Theo, after all.

Speaking of parenthood, let's get into some...

Family Matters

NO, they did not like each other. Their passive-aggression is as genuine as it is petty. They were the most divorced people to still technically be married.

Love was never in the cards for these two. The marriage was purely strategic, and all parties were aware of that. Leonard would have liked to have his wife love him, if only because it would be much more pleasant and convenient for him, but it wasn’t a requirement. He could seek love elsewhere if need be. He was always an opportunistic fellow that way.

Jo never held fondness for Leonard, either before or after their engagement. The marriage was at the behest of her father, and Jo had always put her duties to her family line above whatever selfish wants she might have had. She was willing to tolerate Leonard, which is about the best you could expect from her. However, he tried her patience too often to maintain even that level of camaraderie.

Leonard liked how Jo looked, and he liked the idea he had of her personality. Because Jo was deferential to her father, he assumed she would be similarly deferential to him. Hahaha. Not so. After her father passed, she inherited the Barony and thus, in her mind, the right to dictate the use of her family’s assets, the alliances she would forge with her noble connections, and the future of her estate. All her plans conflicted sharply with Leonard’s ideas of what he was going to do with the North’s influence, and he thought himself the keeper of their assets by patriarchal right. They clashed often and they both were too proud, power-hungry, and conniving to reconcile.

Leonard stayed because giving up the marriage would be giving up his avenue to social power. If he wanted to appear like he held the reins to potential allies and business connections, he had to stay in the manor, stay in Northcrest, and keep that ring on his finger. But he did take a very “I just live here” attitude to his home life. Jo stayed because her family’s long-held values maintained that it was her duty to do so, and to falter in her duties would be a permanent black stain on her good name. Also, it proved her superiority to the clearly weak-willed, dissolute Leonard, and that was an ego boost she wouldn’t pass up.

AHAHAH. THEO PEGGED FOR INBRED.

Yes, well, as you intuited, the Norths are one of those inbred noble families, like those you mentioned.

They’re a mage bloodline, and in the old days, mage nobility was a separate form of titled aristocracy from mundane nobility. Legitimate heirs had to have magical ability. If a mundane Viscount produced a mundane child, that was the end of the line of inheritance. Hence, noble mages in the Old Kingdoms only married other mages, to try to ensure their offspring could inherit their titles. While not all practiced inbreeding, it was a practice some families employed to try to “enhance” the magical ability and purity of their line, or just keep their wealth and power within their family (the Hyden family is another infamous example).

However, most magical lineages were wiped out during the fall of the Old Kingdoms, and those that survived were scattered to remote areas of the continent. Very few mages still exist, and the North family is one of the only lineages to survive “intact” to the modern day. They cling to their family’s history and their magical bloodline as their source of power and would never risk a union with a mundane. Like many other old traditions best left in the past, the Norths clung to the old ways, marrying within their line, inbreeding like an endangered species (which I suppose you could argue they were).

Of course, as the North’s numbers declined, the marriages shifted from pairing distant relatives to being cousin-cousin pairs. That level of consanguinity isn’t great for your offspring’s health or fertility, as it turns out, and further diminished their numbers (and options) until it came time for Jocosa to make their dying lineage limp along for another generation. By the time she was of age, there were no branches on the family tree left to harvest a husband from. Thus, the Norths needed to go further afield of the stagnant gene pool they’d been festering in.

Because of that, Theo is arguably a bit less inbred than previous generations of his family. The damage was already done, though. The fruits of the North’s unfortunate marriage practices have garnered them a deserved reputation for weak bodies, sick minds and dying young, and so far, Theo is two-for-three. We’ll see if he gets the triple.

Related to the above: if you haven’t realized already, the Norths are fucking freaks. Especially in the modern day of Amaranthine, caring about matching species in a marriage is seen as hyper-traditionalist, bizarre and absurdly impractical. But, well, the Norths are all those things. Jocosa’s parents were a stoat-stoat pair, their parents were stoat-stoat, and so on up the family tree, with maybe some rare exceptions where you might find a few polecats or minks scattered about in amongst the other long pointy-faced carnivores. Jocosa’s parents really would have preferred to have another mustelid marriage rather than wed their daughter to a rat.

But, that was a preference, and magical ability was a necessity. When Jocosa needed to marry, there were no other magical stoats, weasels, or even an otter for them to choose from.

That’s when an opportunistic young rat caught wind that there was a beautiful noble girl in need of a husband, just when he needed a rise in social station. Leonard was reasonably wealthy, and more importantly charming, quick-witted, and not afraid of lying his ass off to close a deal. He befriended Jocosa’s father and was able to delicately pick his way around or find loopholes in the Norths’ strict rules for marriage. Importantly for the Norths, Leonard had magical ability, albeit extremely weakly. You might say he was a sparkler while Jocosa was a flamethrower (in this analogy, in his prime, Hyden was an atomic bomb). Not ideal, but Leonard had enough magic to count as a mage for heir-producing purposes. Ultimately, Jocosa’s parents saw Leonard as the best option in a bad situation, rat or no. Preferable to dying out altogether, at least.

...

AND ON THAT, UH, HAPPY NOTE: thanks for reading and thank you all as always for sending questions about my little guy and being interested in him, even with all his slimy, weird, unpleasant foibles and flaws!

[0alix0]

Overusage of Lore

a lot of people tend to say that bioware put little to no lore into Veilguard, and i might be on a minority on this to me it's way too much and way too shallow

The entire game feels like writers just scream at you "Look at all the magical thing we have!! So we have Titans! And Evanuris! And Illuminati Those Across the See! And-- are you listening? You better listen cuz there are more! We have Shadow Dragons! We have Griffons! We--"

OMG calm down it's not a fucking Warcraft

the best thing in DA was the way it beautifully showed real life issues through the lens of medieval fantasy world.

The dalish weren't so fascinating because they had an entire language made for them and pretty tattoos. They were fascinating because they were enslaved, fought for freedom, then got their land taken away YET STILL continued to fight for survival, for their cultural identity, their children and their children's children, for freedom. Literally combination of native american's and jewish history. Because despite having one goal they all had different approach and opinion about other of their kin: city elves (those disconnected from their culture) and half-elves ("can they be considered elves?" "should they be allowed to be a part of dalish?").

The city elf origin wasn't so memorable because every npc had a backstory with a length of bible. It was memorable because it was the most obvious analogy on racial oppression, segregation, colonialism and fetishism in the entire franchise. Because it had the guts to actually show in details the horrors of these things.

Broodmothers weren't so horrifying because it's a female mixture of jubba hutt and a fucking pudge from dota with a detailed explanation their anatomy. They were horrifying because they were paralleling a very real misogyny, mistreatment, the way how women in some countries are seen as nothing but a walking uteruses, where the only thing they're good for is to give birth

AND bioware doubled it while doing the same thing with Orzammar, cast system & Rica!

The Circles weren't so interesting because we've got dozens of pages in WoT explaining their hierarchy/fraternities. No, they were interesting because it was literally a bunch of medieval GULAGs with a function of a mental hospital, it showed what mistreatments happen there, the abuse, child abduction and enforcement of religion.... And from the side of templars it was a discussion about professional deformation, addictions and the way high ranking people abuse those to control their underlings.

..... And you know, if we were back in origins, griffons, for example, would've probably been used as a parallel on irl eco terrorism. it might've been about how Wardens despite their good nature unintentionally bonded the general association of the entire animal species to their order and abused this connection to the point when the species was beyond preservation!

and btw, then that decision in davrin's quest would actually had any meaning, instead of throwing wardens into mud (again) and turning isseya into a villain for no fkn reason.

lore is only good as long as it's used for purpose, when it has things to discuss, not just exist

i don't fucking care about titans/evanuris/and other shit because they're just a 30 pages long article in codex and WoT trying to explain magic and write DA timeline almost to a fucking mesozoic era. it's BORING. Get me emotionally invested, then i'll care

[xclowniex]

I always find it weird, that when leftists get called out on antisemitism, often times for specifically believing and spewing antisemitic conspiracy theories, instead of taking ownership, reflecting and doing better to keep antisemitism out of their criticism of Israel, which is very achievable, they opt for the route of using another antisemitic conspiracy theory to plead their innocence.

Instead of them actually participating in antisemitism, there must be this (((zionist))) lobby controlling jews to accuse anyone of being antisemitic as soon as they say anything bad about Israel.

When in reality, whilst the line can be blurred at times, there is a difference between valid and genuine criticism of Israel and just being straight up antisemitic.

David Hirsh wrote in his book, Contemporary Left Antisemitism, that he calls it the Ken Livingstone affect, names after Livingstone, who favors this method of reaction when called out for being antisemitic.

His particular offense is one common with leftist antisemites. That hitler and Nazis as a whole, were zionists and supported zionism until they simply just "went mad" and killed 6 million jews.

However that has never been the case. It was based on a 1932 proposed policy that Hitler wanted to bring in. And the motivation for the policy certainly wasn't because he supported jewish self determination, the core belief of zionism which all branches stem from.

Hitler supported jews moving to at the time, British mandated Palestine because he hated jews and thought we were ruining Europe. He never supported jewish self determination, he just wanted us gone.

Killing as many jews as possible with the goal of killing every jew, was not hitler just "going mad" for no real reason. It is only the next logical step after wanting to expell all jews.

You also cannot deny the antizionist framework that hitler was inspired by, the protocols of elder zion.

The protocols is a book written by some of the first antizionists. The book was fake notes from the real first zionist meeting and is infamous for being essentially the antisemitic book. These antizionists did not care for palestinians whatsoever. They were white supremists to put it bluntly. To the first antizionists, if jews had our own country, it would be a lot harder to kill us.

Hitler was greatly inspired by the protocols with his attitudes towards jews.

But instead of recognizing that they might have been partaking in antisemitism and learning what I explained above and making sure to only have genuine criticisms of israel, it is much easier for people to double down with the Ken Livingstone affect and be more antisemitic by believing in and propagating yet another antisemitic conspiracy theory that jews are weaponzing jewish trauma en masse to silence people critiquing israel.

[ardentguilt]

Tax the shit out of billionaires for real.

At the moment the cost of living is tough even IF you have a decent paying job but it’s very much unlivable if you don’t for whatever reason.

Here in Australia I live with my parents, they take $100 every 2 weeks for ‘rent’. Due to my situation I’m unemployed and reliant on our countrie’s welfare organisations disability support pension.

Unfortunately our welfare organisation is well known to be absolute dogshit at actually paying a decent amount and being competent in any way (robodebt anyone?)

With cost of living going up and these payments staying the same barely survivable amount these past couple months the unavoidable costs of essential items like food and medication leaves me with around $2.20 to my name by the time my next DSP payment comes in.

It’s that bad I put off seeing doctors and the like because not all of them will bulk bill and I don’t want to send myself into unrecoverable debt just for something I can reasonably ignore.

My wrist is fucked at the moment, feels like something in there might be out of place but as expensive as everything is nowdays I’m just ignoring it and hoping it sorts itself out or, like my shoulder, goes on so long I forget it isn’t normal and that’s that.

This post doesn’t have a thesis but, it’s an observation I have that cost-of-living does not go up linearly with improvements to life, it multiplies. Sometimes by huge amounts.

Like are you an adult living with your parents who aren’t charging rent? Maybe your costs are just food mostly. Would you like to move out? That’s reasonable. Except now the cost of living is rent (probably 2-4x what your monthly food cost was or more) and all the utilities.

Are you tired of renting and want to own a house? Thats reasonable. Except that costs an entire down payment, and now property tax and mortgage. And if your sink breaks the plumber’s visit is $150, and materials are $150 and cost of labor is $150. And that’s just the sink. If it’s something worse it can be several months’ worth of what used to be your rent budget spent instantly.

Do you own a house that’s a little dated and weathered and would like to do some renovations? That’s reasonable. The kitchen renovation is $30,000. The bathroom renovation is $20,000. Expect “unexpected” costs to build up along the way.

Do you own a house and want to start a family and give them the best life? Thats reasonable. College across 3 kids is going to be bare minimum $500,000. You’d hate to saddle them with all of that debt so you better start saving now. This saving needs to somehow come out of a budget which is now supporting 3 kids’ worth of food, clothes, daycare, school supplies, sports supplies, family vacations (if you’re lucky enough for those), dental work, braces, medical checkups—

[angel-bugz]

Part One | Above & Below.

18+, MDNI Word count: 1.3k A/N: Okay, first proper fic in a while... i really hope you guys enjoy reading this. my writing skills are a little rusty at the moment but they will definitely improve in the next parts.

No one was surprised when they bought an apartment together. Wherever Ghost was, Soap was not too far behind. Whenever Ghost was absent, all questions were directed to Soap. The two were brothers in arms, the best of mates - twin flames, yin-and-yang. Inseparable. Ghost and Soap. Simon and Johnny.

It took Simon very little convincing to move into an apartment with Johnny. Simon tended to be in an overall bad mood about living on base, especially after an exhaustive week. Johnny believed that being away from base on the weekends would probably do both of them some good.

After a long and particularly rough week, the Task Force was brought to the local bar not too far from base under “captain’s orders”. It was rare to see the group at the bar without reason, though Price knew that a few drinks were needed to lighten the mood. (He definitely needed a few himself).

Johnny and Simon were eventually left to themselves at their usual booth in the bar. It was an unusually quiet night for the end of the week. Johnny didn’t care too much for what the others were doing; he had Simon to himself. And there it was, those miserable complaints again, about having to wake up hungover in the same bed he woke up in for his work duties. About having to deal with the rowdy, drunken others on the way back to base. Perfect timing for Johnny to–

“What about those apartments down the street?

Smooth Johnny, real smooth. Simon’s complaining ceased. He gave a short hum, considering Johnny’s suggestion. Wasn’t a bad idea. 

“Maybe. Bit expensive, aren’t they?”

“We could rent together– …just a thought.”

Simon had no reason to decline Johnny’s offer. The town wasn’t a terrible place to live in, and everything was close by. These specific apartments were known to be the best in town, given their high rent.

“Alright. We’ll sort it out tomorrow, then.”

Simon’s decision was given easily – no second thoughts, no hesitation. He was almost too casual about the deal. Really, he was excited to finally move away from base, living in peace and quiet. A small taste of a normal life outside the military. Johnny knew Simon well enough to recognize that – able to read him by only his eyes at this point. 

Johnny was barely able to stifle the grin on his face. 

There was one tiny problem, though. 

Johnny’s feelings towards Simon – which could be described similarly to that of a high school girl’s crush. Of course, Johnny wouldn’t ever cross the line with Simon. He never had any intention to overstep the boundaries of their friendship. However, living with Simon would prove to be a challenge for Johnny. He could only ignore his feelings around Simon for so long. He was definitely worried that he might slip up, come across as too weird or pushy, or ruin everything that he and Simon had built between them. Desires for Simon aside, Johnny was overthinking every little thing that could go wrong.

The one thing Johnny wasn’t worried about was missing his chance to confess to Simon. He had plenty of time ahead of him! There was no need to rush, and it wasn’t as if Simon was popular with the ladies. In fact, Simon was extremely unlucky when it came to women. 

To put it lightly, Simon was… socially off-putting. He was scarily tall, with a large build, and not to mention painfully awkward when talking to women. Despite his intimidating nature, he just really had no fucking clue how to talk to women in situations that weren’t work-related. Sure, he could talk to women as a lieutenant, a teammate, a co-worker. Even as a consumer at the grocery store. But romantically? Not a chance.

It wasn’t unusual to see a woman talking to Kyle or Johnny at the bar. Sometimes Price, too, had a woman trying to make advances on him, not yet aware of the pretty wife he had at home. Everyone had been hit on at least once in that bar. Everyone except Simon, whose conversations with civilian women at the bar (if any) were always short-lived and were limited to questions about his friends. There was absolutely no interest in him.

So, Johnny was certain that by the time he was ready to confess to Simon, he’d still be single – and hopefully open to the idea of being with a guy (or, more specifically, with him).

It had been almost a month since Johnny and Simon had moved into their new home. Two weekends was all it took before they finally settled. Now on their third, the apartment was fully furnished, their belongings were unpacked, and the fridge was nearly stocked. 

That was the first time you saw Simon – properly, this time. He was standing next to you, waiting for the elevator. A plastic bag in his hand, clearly having returned from the grocery store. You’d briefly seen the new neighbors moving in a couple of weeks ago, but you weren’t able to work up the courage to introduce yourself. Besides, they didn’t live on your floor, so it wasn’t like you were really their neighbor.

You tried not to stare at him for too long, but it was hard to ignore his generally large presence. Most people in the apartment complex were positive and friendly, but Simon didn’t pay an ounce of attention to you.

You quickly learned that the man was not a talker. In fact, you didn’t even get his name.

You glanced down at your phone screen every so often, but the silence between you was awkward (for you, at least. Simon didn’t seem to notice it). You felt like you had to say something, right? He was a new resident, after all. 

“You, uh… moved in recently, didn’t you?”

Your polite voice broke the silence, the question asked for the sole purpose of making conversation. You turned slightly to face Simon, your eyes flicking over his form. It was hard to gauge anything about him, especially with that black surgical mask covering the lower half of his face. 

He nodded at your question and offered nothing more. He glanced at you once – only for a second.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to an empty cabin. He let you step in first before following. You didn’t get the chance to ask which floor he was headed to before he pushed down the button on the elevator himself – the number seven lighting up as it was pressed. 

“...How’re you finding the apartment?”

Your voice broke the silence again. You both stood in opposite corners of the elevator, against the back wall. He looked at you as you spoke, his eyes meeting yours for half a second before quickly looking away.

“S’alright.” he muttered, followed by a shrug. His single response fell flat. He was clearly uninterested in small talk. That short answer alone had left the conversation fizzling out fast. The elevator ascended, slowly. Floor 3… 4… 5…

“Well, if you need anything, I’m just on the sixth floor… apartment sixty-four.”

You offered sweetly, just before the elevator doors opened at your floor. You doubted he would need anything from you - it’s the thought that counts, right? You gave him a smile before stepping off, but he only responded with a nod.

Leaving Simon standing there, feeling like a complete idiot. He mentally face palmed himself as he watched you walk off, as the elevator doors closed. Wishing he’d had the guts to ask for your number – or, hell, your name at least. His surgical face mask barely hid the pink dusting his cheeks.

He was sure he’d get another chance – especially now that he knew you resided in the apartment directly below his. He had to have another chance with you.

Divider creds: @bernardsbendystraws

Taglist: @sleep101 @lostintransist @callsign-selkie