#she was pretty nice all things considered

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

-----

Steve keeps dropping his heart.

Somewhere buried deep inside him there's an edge of terror that he's going to damage it even worse - but it also makes a muffled schloop sound every time it hits the ground that is, objectively, the funniest sound he's heard all night.

Robin thinks so too, because she keeps giggling every time it happens - first these tiny little snorts, then somewhat hysterical giggles, then a full on bark of laughter, and then he's dropping it again because he's laughing, too, and she's so cute, how is he supposed to not be a little in love with her?

Dustin and Erica don't seem to find it that funny, though.

"Oh my God, Steve, put your heart in your chest!" Dustin hisses at him the next time they have to slow down to wait for him to scoop it back up.

The very idea sends a chill through him, and he makes a face at Dustin.

"No!" he retorts.

"No? Are you serious? It took me weeks to get you comfortable taking it out around me and now you want to wave it around? No, that's not what I - stop that," Dustin scolds him.

Which is rude, considering Dustin is the one who told him to wave it around in the first place.

But maybe he also has a point, because Steve's grip on his heart slips on a downward wave and this time he doesn't so much drop it as toss it, sending it skittering over the floor.

"Oops," Steve says.

Robin bursts into a sharp bray of laughter.

He loves her so much.

Dustin's gone chasing after his heart, and he flinches when the kid picks it up, expecting it to hurt, to feel wrong the way it had when -

But no.

It feels nice.

"Huh," Steve says, watching Dustin bring it back over.

"Why is it all wrapped up?" Erica asks, wrinkling her nose at it.

"So it doesn't explode," Steve replies, then giggles when Robin nods solemnly and mimes an explosion with her hands.

Dustin rolls his eyes, trying to shove it at him. "Put it away!"

Steve twists away. "Nooo," he protests. "I can't breathe."

Dustin's expression goes from frustrated to concerned so quickly it gives Steve whiplash. "Your ribs? Did they break something? Shit, Erica, can you-"

Erica's already at Steve's side, tugging up his uniform shirt and squinting at his ribs. "What am I supposed to be looking for?"

"Can't breathe with my heart inside," Steve clarifies, even though he's actually pretty sure he does have a broken rib or two. It doesn't hurt, so it's a way lower priority. "I hate it, it feels like it's trapped and hollow and alone."

Dustin and Erica look at each other. Steve doesn't think they look irritated, but he can't really tell.

"Steve," Dustin says softly. "Since when?"

"Since always," Steve replies.

There's silence in response, and he worries briefly that he's said the wrong thing. But then Dustin sighs and pops open his chest, nudging his own heart aside so he can drop Steve's next to it. He closes it up again before Steve's even managed to get a fully formed thought, let alone words, and -

His heart gives a little stutter, and it's weird to feel the emotion that causes it without feeling the corresponding pounding against his own chest.

Dustin apparently feels it, though, because he squints at Steve. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Steve returns.

“You felt something!” Dustin retorts.

“Wait, you can feel what I'm feeling?” Steve demands.

“Of course I can,” Dustin scoffs, like it should be obvious. “I have your heart, don't I?”

He looks over at Robin, to see if she knew that, too, but she's too busy snickering at something the light is doing in the fountain, and -

Oh.

Wow.

Okay, that's much better.

He feels so much better, and even when he's handed his heart again after he and Robin are deposited in the movie theater -

The feeling lingers.

—

In a too bright bathroom that smells like bleach and vomit, Robin holds out her hands for his heart.

“Let me see,” she insists, and Steve doesn't think twice about handing it over.

She might as well have just put her own heart in his hands, after what she just shared with him.

Still, he feels trepidation when she unwraps it, even more when she blanches at the sight of it. But -

“Hey,” Steve says, leaning in to look more closely at it. “It looks better.”

“Better?” she demands. “This is better?”

“I guess I should put it back in my chest if it makes it better,” he says reluctantly.

Robin frowns. “But it hasn't been in your chest. Just Dustin's.”

Wait.

That's right.

“I learned about this!” Steve snaps his fingers, trying to place it. “Science class. People survive things they shouldn't if they give away their hearts?”

Robin, bless her, either remembers it better or has figured out what he's trying to say. “Your heart heals better if someone's keeping it safe for you?”

There's barely a second before she's opening her own chest, taking out her heart and putting his in instead.

“Here,” she says, handing her heart to him almost carelessly. “Watch this for me.”

The moment it's settled in his chest, though, he can feel - how scared she is, how terrifying this all seems. The edges of it are still dulled by the drugs in both their systems, but it's there.

“I'm sorry,” he tells her quietly, guilt twisting from him to his heart in her chest.

“I'm not,” she replies, sharp and stubborn.

And the thing is -

She isn't.

—

The paramedics don't insist on keeping him.

Steve thinks they might, if they could hear his own heart, but it's Robin's heart beating strong and steady in his chest, so they assume that no matter how bad he looks, he must not be in any danger.

He doesn't know what his heart sounds like, but judging by the look on the guy checking over Robin - it's not good.

But she's physically unharmed, so they must assume it's more emotional damage than anything else. He and Robin are two halves, right now, but put them together and they make a somewhat stable whole.

God, he loves her.

She must pick up the echo of his love, because she looks up, meeting his gaze. Her smile is a little sad, and he feels a rush of affection so strong that it almost takes his breath away, even if it's a little bittersweet.

"It's not like that," he tells her, as soon as she and him can huddle together away from the paramedics.

She frowns at him, a clear prompt to continue.

"I don't know if I know how to love someone this much, if it's not like that," he admits. "But I'm learning. I'm going to learn."

For Robin, he'll learn how to love someone so much he doesn't want to know what life is like without them, in a way that isn't romantic at all.

—

Robin comes home with him that night, their hearts still in each other's chests.

Steve almost can't bear the thought of taking his back at this point, and what he can pick up from Robin tells him she feels the same way.

There's a blinking light on the answering machine, and when he presses play, he smiles a little at hearing Eddie's voice.

“Hey, Steve, it's, uh, Eddie. Know I haven't stopped by in a while, but I saw the news tonight about the mall, and - can you just let me know you're okay? Okay. Yeah, okay, bye.”

He sounds a little like he's trying not to panic, and Steve feels himself go soft and fond.

“...huh,” Robin says, clearly getting an echo of what he's feeling. “Steve?”

Steve shrugs, a little helpless. “I don't know,” he admits.

She considers for a moment. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks.

“You don't have to know,” she tells him.

“Okay,” he agrees.

He calls Eddie back while she showers, propped up against the bathroom door with the cordless phone in his hand.

“Hey,” Steve says when Eddie picks up. “It's Steve. Sorry, I know it's late.”

“No!” Eddie rushes to say. “No, it's okay, I was up. I saw - are you okay?”

“I've been better,” Steve admits. “There was some explosions, some rubble from the building collapsing. I've got cracked ribs and a concussion.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. “If you could stop getting beat up, it would really give my heart a break.”

Steve grins a little. “You worried about me? Thought it was my job to look out for you.”

He can't see him, but he's pretty sure Eddie's rolling his eyes. “Yeah, and who looks out for you, huh, asshole?”

Steve hums. “It's good to hear your voice. I missed you.”

Eddie's quiet for a moment. Then, “Do you want - do you need someone to come keep an eye on you, make sure you wake up every hour?”

He kind of wishes Eddie'd finished what he started to say, because yeah, he does want him, but that's not the question Eddie ended up asking.

“Robin's here,” Steve says. “She was caught in it, too, but she didn't get too injured. She's going to stay over tonight.”

There's a moment of silence.

“Right, of course,” Eddie mutters.

“Can you come over tomorrow?” Steve finds himself asking without really thinking about it. Eddie's never been over - he's technically never hung out with Eddie outside of school or work - but shit, he wants it. “I think the drugs'll be out of my system by then, so I won't be too annoying. You can meet Robin.”

“You do know I've met her, right?”

Steve makes a tsk noise. “You've met Robin from band, just like she's met Eddie from the lunch tables. But you don't really know each other, not like I-”

He cuts off, because he's not really sure he has the right to say that. Does he really know either of them like that?

Whatever. If he doesn't, he wants to.

“You do better as part of a trio, huh?” Eddie asks quietly.

“Well, yeah,” Steve agrees. “But this is different, this is better.”

Eddie snorts. “Sure, you're not the third wheel anymore.”

“It's not that,” Steve protests. It feels important for him to get this right, though he's not sure why. “I don’t care about being a third wheel, it never bothered me. But Tommy and Carol… there were always conditions, with their friendship. The older we got, the more there were. And I love Nancy and Jonathan-”

His heart spasms. He can't feel it, but he feels the emotions, and Robin's heartbeat in his own chest kicks up. He mutes the phone, for a moment, knocks on the bathroom door. “I’m okay!” he calls through it, feels a wave of relief coming from her, and lets himself feel simple, uncomplicated affection.

“But things are complicated with them,” he continues after he unmutes the phone. “I think they always will be.”

“And what, I'm uncomplicated?” Eddie asks, but he sounds more amused than anything else.

“You're something,” Steve agrees, not bothering to try not to sound warm and fond.

Eddie blows out a puff of air. “I have band practice tomorrow,” he says. “But I'll call you sometime later, okay?”

No, that doesn't sound okay.

“Is this one of those things where you're not really asking me if it's okay, you're just saying it so it sounds better?” Steve asks. “What would you do if I said it wasn't okay? If I said I really wanted you to come over?”

Eddie's quiet again. “Do you want me to come over?”

“Yes,” Steve replies immediately, because he's had it saved up since Eddie didn't finish asking him it in the first place.

If his heart were in his own chest, he's pretty sure it would be thumping in anticipation.

“Not tonight,” Eddie says finally. “But I do want to be friends with you, okay? I'll call you.”

He hangs up after that, and Steve stares at the phone until Robin comes out of the bathroom and finds him like that.

She doesn't have to ask what happened - probably because she felt what happened - she just sits next to him a while.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

-----

Part 7

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XXXII)

Chapter 32 : ‘How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is part 2 of The Party, we’re going through the same events, but from Y/N’s point of view!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3256

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Watching my friend pretend her heart isn’t breaking

On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons equals the collective weight of every animal on earth. Including the insects. Times three.

Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief – just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed a neutron star. How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then. How impossible to believe that anything could lift that weight.

There are many reasons to treat each other with great tenderness. One is the sheer miracle that we are here together on a planet surrounded by dying stars. One is that we cannot see what anyone else has swallowed.

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

It was working, you were certain of it.

Frank was stealing glances in your direction, he wasn’t being particularly discreet about it.

George was good-looking, you had to give him credit for that. Good-looking and quite funny and charming. You genuinely laughed at one of his jokes, and he took it as permission to rest his hand on your arm. Your first thought was to push him away but you didn’t. That was the point. To make Frank jealous, so he would realise that he still wanted you. So, you let George run his fingers up your arm, his touch feathery. When you looked up, you noticed that Andrew was staring, saw him turning away in a hurry, reaching for a drink…

Samantha was with him now. Your reaction surprised you, you felt the distinctive pang of jealousy echo through your ribcage.

“How do you know our couple then?” George asked.

“I’m a friend of Frank’s,” you lied. “And you?”

“A distant cousin on Samantha’s mother’s side,” he explained with a humorous smile. “Pretty happy with the connection tonight, to be honest.”

“Yeah?”

“It means I get to talk to a very pretty woman, indeed,” he answered with a charming smile.

God, you wanted to throw up at that line… You couldn’t help but lean back, your face falling a little.

Frank was staring now, you could feel his gaze on you. When you looked past George’s shoulder, you noticed that Andrew was still talking with Samantha, his back to you. Still, you only had to wait for a couple of seconds for him to glance in your direction. You felt safer all over again, knowing he was watching over you, that he would help you get out of this mess if you needed.

You noticed that Samantha was standing closer to Andrew as well, that she touched his arm and that he let her do so.

Was your plan working? Was she trying to get closer to Andrew all over again?

How much you ached at the sight…

In a flash, you pictured Andrew kissing her, touching her, and you felt nauseous all over again. Worse than George’s intentions, the image of Andrew being with her…

You noticed that George had been talking, but you hadn’t been paying attention to his words, had no idea what he was on about. You faked interest, but when he moved closer again, you took a full step back… Andrew didn’t see you doing that, he was talking with Samantha…

You were surprised when Frank’s voice suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. And indeed, Frank was now walking towards George and you, but he didn’t seem to pay you any attention. He turned to George instead, pushing you out of the conversation. You felt invisible then, you could only stare at Frank while he ignored you so completely.

If always felt like you were heard and seen whenever you were with Andrew…

“Hi! Oh, I’m such a terrible host, I don’t think we’ve met before,” he said with a polite smile. “I’m Frank.”

“George. One of Samantha’s cousins…”

“Oh, yes! Of course! How lovely to have you, thank you for coming! And on such short notice, I know everything happened kind of quickly between Sam and I.”

You clenched your jaw at his words as you were pulled right back into the whole mess of your breakup, of his rejection, of him calling off your wedding just to announce his engagement to someone else…

All this was so fucked up… and now he was talking to this guy like you weren’t even here, like you didn’t matter, like you hadn’t been together for six years…

Your eyes drifted on their own accord beyond the two men talking before you, to reach Andrew’s tall figure on the other side of the room. Would he ever behave like this towards you? Would he ever be able to do something like that to anyone?

And what were you doing, trying to make Frank jealous? You thought about all that had happened, how Frank had shattered your heart, your self-esteem, all traces of love you had been putting in your relationship. All you took for granted in this world crumbled when he left, when he cancelled your wedding. You had spent years waiting for a proposal, had accepted to remain engaged for a year and a half because he wanted to focus on his career, when he didn’t care about yours. And then he was breaking up with you like it didn’t matter, like there was nothing in your love worth fighting for. He threw it all away for a woman he had met a few weeks before… and you were trying your best to get a man like that back?!

What the fuck were you doing?!

And Andrew was standing right over there, with his ex, that asshole you dreamt of punching in the face for how poorly she had loved him and treated him at the end of their relationship. But you weren’t better, trying to slither your way back into Frank’s heart.

Was it worth it?

Was Frank really what you wanted?

You hadn’t paid much attention to Frank and George, and their casual chit-chat. You were surprised when Frank took a step closer to George, seeming almost menacing now. He said something, but his voice was too low for you to hear him. Still, it seemed to work, as George left, without sparing you a glance.

Frank finally turned to you, a smile he thought must have been charming on his lips, but you saw the syrupy side of it; how it seemed too sweet to be savoury, too good to be true.

“You’re alright, babe?”

Babe… you thought of all the times he had called you that before, and you couldn’t help it, couldn’t refrain your want to hear it again… you had thought he would spend his life calling you that.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded.

“The guy seemed to be bothering you.”

“I could handle it, but thank you.”

“No worries. You know you can always count on me.”

Could you? For what? Count on him for what? Breaking your heart?

God, it was working… you couldn’t believe it was working… Frank had come running to the rescue, he was giving you the attention you had been seeking, so why were you not falling for him all over again? Why weren’t you happy about his reaction?

You glanced over at Andrew. His cheeks were flushed, you guessed partly because of the empty glass in his hand and the way he glowered at Samantha. He seemed so angry, you had never seen him like this…

What was going on?

“Thank you for coming tonight, it means a lot,” Frank said, and you forced yourself to focus on him again.

“Of course. I said I would come to the wedding, so…”

“Yeah, but… you’ve been of great help and… I’m glad we can remain friends despite everything that happened.”

Everything that happened because of you, Frank…

“Yeah…”

You should have added something about you not caring about the past, or about caring about him anyway… but you didn’t feel like it was the truth.

“Saw that you came with Andrew, too! I’m glad you two are getting along. I take it that it’s going well at work?”

“Yeah, it’s going great,” you nodded. “Andy has been of great help when I arrived, he’s explained how all the administrative stuff worked, and helped me around the campus as well. Even if I studied there, there are many places I didn’t go to as a student, and the place is a labyrinth. And my research is going great! I’ve found an interesting article that I’ve discussed with Andy, and it’s been of great help for my own work…”

“That’s nice! Sounds great!”

It sounded like an encouragement, but he was still interrupting you. He sounded supportive and yet he wasn’t listening to you, because he didn’t care.

Andrew was right. He had been right all along…

“He seems like a nice guy, that Andrew,” Frank went on, and you narrowed your eyes at the sound of his tone. It sounded casual, but you knew to recognise a bit of mockery too, something poisonous in its undertone. “A bit boring, maybe.”

You let out a breathy, humourless chuckle.

“Boring? No, Andy’s definitely not boring. He’s a little shy, but he’s great fun once you get to know him. And he’s very smart, always has interesting things to say. And he’s just… nice. Really nice.”

Frank raised a surprised eyebrow.

“You almost make him sound like a catch.”

“He is one.”

Frank didn’t seem to like that answer, you saw how he clenched his jaw. You were surprised when he moved closer though, rested a hand on your waist. And you used to like that touch, but not right now. Right now you didn’t like it at all.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”

It was working. Your stupid plan was bloody working…

From the corner of your eyes you saw that Andrew was moving away from Samantha now, until he was drinking again and making a bee-line towards the exit. He walked by you, you noticed how he extended his fingers in your direction as he passed by, but he didn’t reach out. He walked out of the venue instead.

You moved away from Frank. Andrew seemed devastated and very, very drunk…

“I’d better go,” you mumbled.

“Wait, Y/N…”

“Andy doesn’t seem well, I should check on him.”

He chuckled.

“Who are you? His mother? He probably had too much to drink, that’s all.”

But he seemed to read it in your stare that there was more to it than that. He glared, but you didn’t care.

“I’ll go check on him,” was your only answer, before walking away.

You hurried after Andrew, leaving Frank behind. You didn’t look back, didn’t check his expression, didn’t try to guess if he was jealous, or considered what he was thinking. Truth was, you spotted Andrew again, staggering across a patch of grass near the parking lot, and you were too worried about him to care about anyone else.

“Andy!”

You called after him, and he spun around, tripping over his own feet. You reached out to steady him, even if you were a little too far to help. You hurried by his side, and noticed at once that he was indeed drunk. Very drunk.

“You’re okay?” you asked while you walked closer.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” but his voice was weak, almost shy. He was clearly lying, and not doing a very good job at it.

“Are you drunk?”

It was a stupid question, it was obvious that Andrew had been drinking too much. You still asked, and perhaps it was just to hear his voice again. It was soft, and kind, and warm… soothing. Filling up the air with something safe and quiet, instead of Frank’s booming tones.

“A little bit,” he admitted, averting his eyes in a sheepish way.

“Do you want me to take you home? I didn’t drink at all tonight…”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, opening and then closing his mouth. He stared at you, gaze intense and unwavering, and yet he seemed to see more than just you in that moment. Like he was playing a scene in his head, like he was getting lost in thought, even though his thoughts were about you.

He staggered, looked away to sit in the grass.

“I think I’m… gonna stay here for a couple of minutes,” he answered, voice distant and words slurred by too much whiskey.

He seemed sad. Sad and angry. You wanted to hug him, to wrap a blanket around him and tell him everything was going to be okay. Instead, you merely sat down by his side.

“You’re okay?” you asked again, voice gentle, caring.

He seemed to lean a little closer, but didn’t reach out, he folded his arms around his legs instead. And you hated seeing him like that, you knew what he was doing. He was shrinking, trying to disappear, trying to bend to conceal how tall he was, to hide, so that no one would notice him anymore. And you hated when he did that, because there was nothing in him worth hiding…

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Frank?” he asked, voice strained with pain, and you didn’t quite know what to do with that sound aimed at you.

Was he sad because of Samantha, or because of Frank? Perhaps both…

“You didn’t seem well,” you explained.

“I’m fine. This is your chance, it was working…”

You clenched your jaw, looked away. Andrew was right, it was working. Frank was being jealous, he was giving you the attention you had craved for… you could have used that opportunity to make him see how crazy it was for him to leave you for Samantha, and then to decide to get married after only a couple of months, to rush this wedding…

But you didn’t want to. Because Frank was never paying attention to you. This was another proof. It was all about him, and not about you. And there was Andrew, who was obviously in pain, obviously angry and sad and drunk, and… and he was still thinking about you.

You were a fucking fool, for still wanting Frank or… or rather, for convincing yourself that you still wanted him. Andrew was right, Frank was a fucking prick. And you deserved better than him.

“I’d rather stay with you for a while,” you breathed, something pained and aching in your voice.

Andrew’s gaze hardened, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. That his burst of anger that made his eyes darker than usual was not your doing. You took a moment to stare at him, to study his features bathed in the dim lights of the evening, a mix of orange streetlights, of silver moonlight, of white neon lights from the venue. He looked so handsome, despite his tiredness, despite his sorrow…

“I saw you talking with Samantha? What did she say?” you asked, changing subject, trying not to think of how much you wanted to run your fingers through his untamed curls, brush your fingertips across his cheekbone…

You saw him clenching his jaw and immediately regretted your question. But he seemed in so much pain, you insisted, asked again.

“What did she say?”

He shrugged. You didn’t mean to push him, but this was important. You knew he wanted to talk about it, you could read it in his eyes.

“She cheated on me with Frank.”

Your eyes grew round, you were too stunned for a moment.

The fucking bitch… she had cheated on Andrew?! What was wrong with this woman?! Was it really so hard to end things before moving on? How could she hurt him like that… God, you wanted to punch her straight in the face.

“He didn’t cheat on you,” Andrew hurried to add, and you guessed he wanted to reassure you, but the truth was, you hadn’t even thought of Frank, of the possibility of him cheating, you had to admit you didn’t care about it at all, you were too infuriated by Samantha. “It happened right after he broke up with you, but she hadn’t broken up with me yet… so technically…”

“What a fucking bitch…” you spat, and he was visibly surprised by the harshness of your words, so much so that he giggled.

“Yeah, you can say that.”

“I’m so sorry, Andy,” you breathed, reaching to rub his back.

“It’s okay. I just… I just want to forget her now.”

You nodded but looked away. You should be doing the same. Especially after tonight… but a part of you still wanted this life you had built for yourself. You realised then that you didn’t even want Frank, you wanted the life he had taken from you. You were not ready to grieve that part yet…

Why couldn’t you just… move on?

“So… I’m losing my partner in crime?” you joked, but there was something strained in your voice.

“I’ll still help you with Frank, that’s alright. If… if that’s what makes you happy…”

What would make you happy… You didn’t know what could make you happy now. You were too lost for that. Your past was haunting you too much for you to yield in your impulsive thought now, the one that could make you feel something. So, you just stared at Andrew’s lips for a moment, caught in a stillness you couldn’t free yourself from. You leaned closer, rested your head on his shoulder. He didn’t move away, let you rest your weight on him, like an anchor, something you could rely on. Better yet, he reached out, extended his arm until you were wrapped into his embrace, and he pulled you closer, gently, like he was afraid you would pull away if he let on how much he wanted to have you close. He didn’t seem to know how much you wanted him to hold you. And for a while, you bathed into his warmth, into the feeling of his hand on your arm, into his scent, into the soothing rhythm of his breathing. You felt so safe in his arms, sheltered, and you realised then that there had been few people with whom you could feel so safe, so free. You weren’t nervous about being vulnerable in front of him, you trusted him not to mock or dismiss your fragility. You trusted him to stay and listen, you trusted him not to hurt you. You trusted him not to leave you, not tonight, at least...

You tried to remember a time when you saw Frank this way, a safe haven. At the beginning, maybe. A little. That wasn’t fully true, though. You had always been worried that he would get bored, and leave…

“Let’s get you home, Andy,” you broke the comfortable silence that had settled around you, broke his embrace to get up. You offered him your hand and helped him up, let him lean on you while you walked to your car.

And you wanted to tell him about Frank, about how you weren’t so sure you wanted him anymore, and especially, about how you thought of him all the time. How you didn’t long to see Frank these days, but you couldn’t wait to go to work because then you would see Andrew. About how you had never been able to talk about what truly interested you with Frank, you realised that now… now that you could talk about all of it for hours with Andrew. How you wanted to hold his hand, and tug his hair behind his ear, and kiss his cheek, and kiss his lips. How you dreamt of him sometimes, which sounded crazy, but it was true. How you dreamt of him touching you, of him holding you, of him loving you. And you wanted to tell Andrew that you longed to forget about your exes, but you weren’t sure to be ready to admit the feelings you had for him, because then it would make you vulnerable in front of a man all over again, and considering how it had ended with Frank, you weren’t certain you wanted that once more…

God, you wanted him. You wanted to kiss him now, in the streetlights, even if he was drunk. But you were afraid, and so you didn’t.

[the-californicationist]

I need like sweet, domestic Alex like coming home from deployment or something and reader doting on him (per our recent discussion, does she give him a nice massage bc of his poor aching leg) before he's just so desperate and pent up he goes full filthy down bad for his sweet thing at home. disrespect me alex please, then go right back to snuggles i BEG

Pingu… lol bestie. Idk what happened. Something something “disrespect me alex keller”… um…

TW: throat fucking, degradation, slut shaming, gender neutral reader, pet names: baby, babydoll, pretty thing

— MDNI —

Three Wishes

—

When his deployment ended, Alex Keller told you he had three wishes: a greasy cheeseburger, a deep tissue massage, and your pretty mouth on his cock. He was working on the burger as you watched him, busying yourself by kneading his quad muscles with your hands. You were staring as the blue glow from the TV danced across his tired face, bathing him in a desaturated light. Your palms and fingers worked their way along his sore thighs, rubbing them with his trusty Biofreeze pain gel, trying to ease his strained limbs.

The prosthetic he wore for work lay discarded in the corner, still caked with sand and mud and memories of a grueling tour. If his return home was anything like his last, he’d leave it there for weeks, seemingly out of spite, much preferring to use his forearm cane to semi-gracefully amble from the couch to the kitchen to the bed and back again, moving more like an acrobat than a soldier, leaning and pulling on countertops and reinforced handles to make his way around his home. It never stopped surprising you with how quickly he could cross a room without any walking aids at all, much preferring to use his body without the augmentations.

You’d been there for him when he lost the leg. At the time, you and his mom had been way more concerned about blood clots from the injury rather than the amputation itself. It wasn’t until he was about to be discharged and you were left with an endless stream of leg-limb-cane-chair options that made your head spin. But, Alex didn’t seem to mind. He had turned his nose up at the chair, immediately deciding that if he wasn’t walking out of there on his own, he didn’t want to walk out of there at all. The doctors all hemmed and hawed, but you and Mrs. Keller stood firm. You supported him, and he made it through with flying colors.

When they’d welcomed him back to SAC, you were shocked. You’d expected him to get his Purple Heart and be left out in the cold. Since when had Uncle Sam ever wanted to put his “broken” toys back on the playing field? Hell, most veterans had to jump through more hoops than a circus poodle just to get baseline healthcare. But, Alex wouldn’t be denied. He was too good, and he made sure no one ever considered anything about him as broken. In fact, his recovery had given him extra time at the range, in the gym, and in the tactical office, honing his skills to a razor-fine edge. Alex was twice the soldier now, and you were proud of how far he’d come.

But, that didn’t mean it was easy. His work took a toll on his body, more so than his squadmates’. He’d be in pain for weeks, and you’d watch his face twist and bend in agony. It almost felt like he would only get back to normal right before it was time to deploy again. But, that was the price he paid. He kept the world safe, and he used himself as the shield, protecting you and everyone else from unimaginable evils.

You loved watching him tear into this messy burger. The juice and sauce was dripping down his hands, and there was a smear of something warm and gooey trapped in the corner of his mouth and his overgrown mustache, ready for a long tongue to swipe it away. Still, you waited patiently for him to finish. You were just as eager for the third wish as he was, judging by the obvious erection straining against his gym shorts.

Pausing your ministrations, you cleared his food away and washed your hands. You made your way back over to the couch and knelt between his legs,

“Mm, goddamn,” Alex sighed, wiping his mouth and hands with the napkin as he finished off his meal, “That hit the fuckin’ spot.”

“You ready for your last wish to come true, Lex?” You purred, digging your hands into the band of his shorts and peeling them down over his throbbing erection.

“You’re too good to me, baby,” his voice deepened as he watched you reveal his length, bending over him to suckle the shining precome from his head, “Mmf-fuck! I love comin’ home.”

You tried to take more of him, but he was impossibly hard, and your throat protested against his invasion. Gagging yourself, you choked, pulling away to catch a breath before going right back to suckle his cock.

“Tha’s it. Lemme help you, babydoll,” Alex purred, placing a firm palm on your head and shoving you down onto him, working you past your deepest point, showing you how much further you could go with his help.

“I dreamt of this fuckin’ moment,” he confessed, “This exact one. The one with your mouth full of me like this, droolin’ on me like this, suckin’ me like this… holy fuck!”

In a flash, both of his hands were on your head, shoving you down so much further onto his hard length, making your throat ache and burn.

You loved it, feeling your own pleasure building between your legs. His roughness made your mind go blank; you melted into his dumb little slut, shamelessly humping into your own hand as your brain begged for breath.

A hard fist pulled you off of him, and you gasped, rasping and wet, your shining drool swirling and pooling from your mouth, raining down onto his red, swollen prick.

“There you are,” Alex smiled, “Eyes on me, baby. Don’t look away.”

As he lowered you back onto his hard length, you obeyed, gazing up at him despite your audible struggling, the pressure and tightness in your throat making you want to wrench your eyes shut. But you didn’t. You were a good hole for him; you’d show him how much you missed him.

He moved your head up and down without your help. You were just along for the ride, breathing when you could, coughing and jerking when your body struggled to obey.

“This mouth… holy hell. Gonna make me come, baby.” Then, he noticed your hand writhing beneath you, playing with yourself as you sucked him off, “You touchin’ yourself? Oh, fuck. Fuck, that’s hot.”

He began to fuck your throat in earnest, picking up his pace, leaning his head back on the couch in ecstasy. You reached up with your free hand and lifted your shirt over your chest, pinching and plucking at your nipples, edging yourself right up to an orgasm, ignoring how lurid the gurgling noises that your throat was making sounded in the quiet living room.

“You better get that filthy hole ready for me, babydoll. Your mouth is so damn good, but this load isn’t goin’ in your tummy,” he saw your eyes widen and he chuckled, “Nuh-uh. I am gonna fuck you until you’re too hoarse to scream my name.”

You couldn’t help but moan, your eyes flashing white, rolling back into your head.

“Hey!” That same tight fist shook you at your nape, shocking you back into submission, “Give me those eyes, baby. Such a pretty little slut. So good for me.”

Then, he rewarded you by holding you down to his base, scooting to the edge of the couch so that he could shove his cock all the way down your neck, using his free hand to rub your throat on the outside, squeezing the sides to feel himself as he filled your writhing, choking body.

“Does my baby want to breathe? Givin’ up already?”

You tried to shake your head no, looking at him with tears rolling down your cheeks. You were no quitter. You’d black the fuck out before you let him think you needed mercy.

“No?” He seemed pleased, moaning as he grinded himself deep inside of you, moving your face back and forth to steep himself in his optimal pleasure, giving you brief gasps of sloppy air as he did. “So proud of you, baby. Doin’ so well. Now… Swallow me, babydoll. Mmf-fuck! Yeah, just like that. Holy fuck.”

You swallowed around him, closing your throat across his cockhead over and over, feeling the soft fleshy tip squish and squeeze in the bottom of your throat, twitching at the root of your tongue. You tried to find a rhythm, swallowing in pulsating waves. Above you, Alex was coming undone, trembling and growling like an animal, barely hanging onto his sanity.

Suddenly, he ripped himself out of you in a wet, messy stroke. You leaned into his grip, lolling out your tongue, knowing that he had lost at his own edging game. Sure enough, he began to spray hot, sticky ropes of come across your nose and mouth, covering your face in his orgasm, coating you in his mark.

He was shouting loud enough to fill the room, and he just kept coming, his body twisting and bending in mindless sexual fury. You leaned forward to seal your mouth over his head, milking him of his heavy load, sucking down his essence like it would sustain you.

“Oh, fuck!” He lamented, watching you clean his dick with your tongue, wearing his cream like a badge of honor, “C’mere, baby. Open wide.”

You opened your mouth up for him, sticking your messy tongue out as far as it would go. He grabbed your chin and began to use his other hand to swipe his load into your lips, smearing his come down your nose and across your cheeks to scoop it onto your tongue, making sure you didn’t waste a drop.

You remained stock still, feeling his seed slipping down your throat and into your belly, but you kept your tongue out, showing him you were still his obedient cockslut.

“I hope you’re ready for me, baby, ‘cause I’m still hard. Did you get that hole nice and warm for me?”

“Yes, sir,” you smiled, pleased to play your part.

“Show me,” he smiled back - all devil, no angel.

You did as you were told, turning around, leaning your chest to the ground, and peeling your underwear down your thighs to show him his prize.

His hand spread your ass cheeks apart, and you felt him spit across your flesh, chuckling with an exciting cruelty as he spread his spit around with his thumb,

“Oh, fuck. There it is. I’m gonna pump you so full of come you’ll be drippin’ for days and days and days...”

[asktheritochampion]

Psst, Rahlin. Teba said Ravioli has a new diary with some pretty endeering entrys. Hit us up on the sly?

[Text]

Sometimes it feels as though each of the other Champions has settled into their new lives in this futuristic world so much more effectively than I, and it leaves me feeling…inadequate. I’m unsure why I am having such a difficult time assimilating. I should surely feel thankful for this miracle second chance at life; however I often find myself so overcome with grief and sorrow that I cannot lift myself from my hammock. Isn’t that pathetic? I am supposed to be the Rito Champion. The people of this age look up to me. I must make a good impression, and lazing around in bed simply isn’t good enough.

It seems terribly childish to admit; but I miss my home. I miss my possessions. I miss the warriors I grew up with and trained besides. Perhaps I never had the type of relationships most people would consider friendships, however there is comfort in familiarity. I simply cannot stop thinking of all the people I have left behind. Nothing but dust in the ground now.

Did anybody mourn me as I am mourning them? I do not have a grave. I suppose they never recovered my body.

Things are not all doom and gloom despite my pitiful mood, however.

I have been staying temporarily with the newly appointed Village Elder and his family until a space opens up in the Village for me to reclaim my own roost. Its strange, but I feel like I have met him before, in the strange tangle of my memories of the Calamity. He is a fine warrior with impressive skills, I suspect he could almost match me in archery actually. Almost.

The family behaves as if I have lived with them all my life. I expected to feel frustrated being in such close quarters with such social people; however I am finding myself increasingly endeared by them. The wife, Saki, insists that I join them for meals every day, and admittedly it has been useful in forcing me out of my periods of wallowing. Her cooking is pleasant. The child, Tulin, seems to have some control over the wind such as I do. Even if he is just a boy, it has been fascinating to share conversation with him about it, I look forward to taking him on as an apprentice and teach him everything I know.

Perhaps things will be okay once I’ve had a little more time to adjust.

--

Yesterday I visited Zora’s Domain. It certainly has changed in the past hundred years – however perhaps not as much as Rito Village has. It was pleasant to see some familiar faces, even if many of them are now far older than they were during the Calamity.

Mipha requested my aid in fighting a Lynel on Ploymus Mountain. I suspect she only asked because she has some wayward concern for my wellbeing being the only one of us revived without a living family, considering the fact that she is perfectly capable of tackling such a foe alone. Regardless, she did invite me to join her for dinner afterwards, which is always a pleasant affair. I do enjoy Zora cuisine, and Mipha had many interesting stories to share. Her tiny brother is enormous now, it’s bizarre to see.

To avoid flying in the dark I stayed the night, and the two of us stayed up late consuming an unhealthy amount of sugary foods and taking turns reading aloud from a frankly hysterical Zora romance novel that seemed as if it had been written by someone with no concept of anatomy, and laughing until we felt unwell. It was…nice. It reminded me of old times.

Last night was the first time since awaking that I havn’t dreamt of Windblight.

Perhaps I could visit the Domain more often. In case they need my aid again.

--

There was a ceremony at the Castle this evening to honour the Champions of old by the sides of the ‘Sages’ who fought in the second coming of the Calamity. I’ve never enjoyed the pomp and grandeur of these types of events.

Admittedly I had intended not to attend initially. My reasoning to Teba had been that I was simply too busy for such unnecessary affairs, however in truth I…feel like a failure. How mortifying it seems to have failed my one task in aiding to stop the Calamity, and for a ten year old child to accomplish everything that I couldn’t a hundred years on.

Tulin is a good kid, I feel nothing but pride for his achievements. I simply feel such a deep sense of shame over it all. The very idea of standing in front of the entirety of Hyrule, all of the people I let down – it left me feeling sick to my stomach.

Teba had insisted I attend, if not to join in with the celebration then at least to support Tulin, and eventually I gave in. I’m glad I did.

Pointless as the ceremony was, it was pleasant to see the other Champions again. I do not visit them as often as I should; though I have been making an effort to send more missives. Furthermore, while it was an uncomfortable experience as expected; Tulin did appear to have a wonderful time of it, and it was pleasant to see the boy receive the praise he deserves for all of his hard work.

The Princess invited us to stay the night at the castle. Well, I suppose she is the Queen, now, though it seems strange to think of her as such. I spent most of the evening training in the royal gardens with Urbosa, and it was refreshing to be challenged again.

Before retiring to bed, I passed by Zelda in the royal library and we shared a nice discussion about the works of Frequius Edgal. I always enjoy hearing her enthuse about books; she used to be so crippled by stress before the Calamity and it seems as though now we are finally seeing her true face. She has invited me back to join her in a few weeks’ time to discuss another few tomes in a sort of book club; apparently Daruk shall be there too – though I never took the pebble brain for much of a reader.

--

My archery skills are still far superior to those of anyone in the Village, even a hundred years on it seems. While Teba’s skills are impressive, the old man is still too slow to quite match my unbeatable heights. Yet, I still yearn to become better.

Today I paid Daruk a visit in Goron City. The heat there does not agree with me; even when covering every feather on my body in bottles and bottles of fire proof elixir. However it was enjoyable to spend a day training in a different environment.

Daruk challenged me to some Goron tradition called a ‘gut check challenge’, which thankfully did not involve eating rocks, but rather climbing up a sheer cliff face on a time limit. Rito aren’t really built to climb, however I have never been one to back down from a challenge.

I failed miserably. Slipped and fell about seven times, definitely bruised a few ribs and twisted my ankle, and by the time I made it to the top I had passed the time limit by a number of hours. I was practically the laughing stock of half of Goron City.

Perhaps it should have been a humiliating experience, however instead I found it a delightful thrill. Something about Daruk’s positive attitude about everything makes it rather difficult to feel ashamed, and despite my utter failure to excel at his challenge, he did nothing but rejoice over my making it to the top in the end after so many attempts, commending my determination and bravery. I left feeling almost rather proud of myself – which is utterly ridiculous; I don’t know how he did that.

I intend to practise climbing over the next few weeks in the privacy of the Hebra mountains and then come back to give his challenge another try. The look on his face when I show up and beat every Goron in the City’s time with my superior skills shall be wonderful.

I havn’t had a panic attack in two weeks now. I think the medicine Saki gave me is helping. I’ve been eating more regularly again too.

--

Link came to visit the Village again this week to assist with setting up for the winter festival, I think Teba requested it of him. The helpful little brat can never turn down the opportunity to help someone.

I can’t seem to stop myself from spitting insults into the boys face at every opportunity I get. At first it had been from a place of indignation and frustration over his silence and refusal to recognise my skills; however as we’ve gotten to know one another I no longer hold that same sense of anger towards him. If anything, I almost rather enjoy his company these days. The knight is an excellent listener, and a worthy challenger to battle. I don’t know why I feel so compelled to treat him with malice.

There is a possibility I am perhaps experiencing something akin to a schoolboy crush. How mortifying. Perhaps my frustration is coming from a place of knowing the obnoxious little hero is in the eye of both the Princess of Zora’s Domain and the new Queen of Hyrule. Inevitably, he’ll end up a king some way or another, and that thought pains me. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about the ridiculous blond runt. I hate that there is no conceivable timeline in which he even graces a single thought in his oversized head on me; a Rito with no political standing whatsoever who failed at his one task in the Calamity.

Perhaps I bully him because I’m so desperate for him to believe I am still worthy of his attention. It seems so utterly below me.

I am attempting to be better about this. Tonight, I refrained from calling him a disgusting glutton when he had a third portion of Saki’s cooking. I informed him that his hair wasn’t a complete mess while we were preparing for bed. I even offered him a space in my hammock when he complained of the chill of the night air. None of these things come very naturally to me, but I am trying. The fool doesn’t deserve to be insulted due to my own insecurities.

Tomorrow morning I am to join him in an activity he called ‘shield surfing’. For tonight, I am allowing him to sleep beneath my wing. He is very pretty when he sleeps. Perhaps with some practise, I’ll be able to tell him that someday.

--

I got into another fight with Teba.

Sometimes I think I miss the Calamity, but I suspect what I really miss is the person I was back then. I tell myself that I was brave, flawless, near unstoppable. Retrospectively; perhaps I was merely naive and what I really miss is truly believing that I could do anything.

I was displaying my impeccable flight and shooting skills for the fledglings the other day and messed up my ascent. I doubt anyone even noticed in truth, I managed to catch myself after being thrown by the updrafts pull and the fledglings seemed to think it was part of the performance. Still, it mortified me that I could make such a pathetic mistake even after all of these years. Sometimes it feels as though no matter how much I refine my skills, I shall simply never be good enough.

As it happens, Teba had been watching from near by and later on attempted to commend me on my flight skills, even going as far as saying he was proud of me for everything I have managed to accomplish at such a young age. Perhaps I was still frustrated with myself because I took his compliment with great offence and practically tore the man a new one, spitting insults at him for daring to patronise me.

After several minutes of a back and forth lashing with the man, I began to feel that familiar tug of panic in my chest again and retreated to Medoh. This time I stayed with her for days. Something about her silent company seems to soothe my frantic mind, and I appreciate her lack of judgement over my episodes of patheticness.

The funny thing is, deep down I know the Elder’s compliments had come from a genuine place, and I believe a part of me so desperately wanted to believe them. I don’t believe anyone has ever told me that they were proud of me before, and patronising as it might seem, a childish part of me deep inside yearns for it. My lashing out at him comes from my own insecurities; I simply feel as though I don’t deserve his pride. I havn’t earned it yet. I still need to be better.

When I returned to the Village, Teba apologised for patronising me, and I apologised for calling him a worthless, pathetic failure of a warrior with two left feet and a fledgling level of skill with a bow. It seemed a mutual affair of forgiveness and moving on, however I have continued to feel guilt over my outburst.

For all my vocabulary exceeds most in size; sometimes I find words…difficult. I made him a new quiver for his arrows since his old one was a tattered mess, and left it with his things. I hope that is enough to convey my remorse.

These people are the closest thing I have to family or friends in the Village in this day and age. Why can’t I stop pushing people away the moment they get too close?

[rederiswrites]

Alright, I've got to get the gripes out. Doesn't mean you have to read it. If you love the game you probably shouldn't. This is for people who are really disappointed or angry about...things and would like to feel like they're not alone.

This is not about the absolute value of Veilguard. I enjoyed the game and I am, if anything, enjoying it more on the second playthrough. Like all the other installations, inevitably it is its own thing. Some franchises are just logical continuations of their previous installments, but Dragon Age has never been like that and I sure wouldn't expect it after this long since the last installment.

[Edited to add that I reblog locked it but 100% encourage sharing your feelings in the replies or even my dms. It's fine to talk about it! I want to talk about it!]

That said, my biggest gripes about Veilguard:

The sanitizing of the Crows

Come on now. I even defended you, Bioware! Before the game, I said, nahhhh they won't make the Crows Good Guys just because of Lucanis! Lucanis was tortured too! Well, they didn't do that, I guess. They did it as part of a much larger pattern of ironing out the moral grey areas the franchise was formerly known for.

The Crows are Patriots! Well, they are. And also, though you wouldn't know it, slavers and torturers and murderers of children. You'd be forgiven for not realizing that, considering the creation of the feel good House for orphans who really wanna be contract killers. But it is pretty foundational lore and all. There is the like, one previous Crow character, whom they wrote as going on a righteous mission to kill Crows, because of the whole them being bad thing.

What was being raised by the head of the Crows like, Lucanis? Torture? Hahaha funny oh you mean literally. Literally your grandmother tortured and starved you and never gave you the slightest choice in your life and you've accepted that because you accept the logic that it was necessary. But again. That's based on my knowledge of material outside this game.

Any previous game would have reveled in that! Do you ally yourself with these people, this objectively bad organization full of people who don't see themselves as bad at all? Because they are very good at killing, and that's what you need! But this game just makes them good guys. No moral dilemma needed. Nope, we like black and white now.

And speaking of which,

The dehumanization of the Antaam

Ew. Ew ew ew.

Gimme a minute and I'll come up with something better to say but seriously? Ew.

They neither look nor sound like any of the other qunari characters. They sound like animals, literally. Exactly once does one make the slightest attempt to do anything but attack you--and then he attacks you anyway. Not a single one deserts. I guess the lesson here is that apparently qunari really do become mindless beasts without the structure and discipline of the Qun??? Ew. No thank you.

I know, you gotta have faceless mooks. In Inquisition we fought rebel mages for absolutely no good reason but that they attacked us. In da2 thugs literally fell from the sky. But the absolutely comprehensive way in which the Antaam never spoke for themselves, as actual people... Wow.

Imagine. Imagine if we could have actually negotiated an agreement with a group of them, for that final battle. Would that have been so impossible? To fight mages?! Imagine if we'd had a former Antaam companion. Imagine if he'd been mulling over what the Arishok, Sten, the OG proof that qunari are NOT animals outside the Qun, said before the Antaam rebelled.

Mythal: basically a nice mother goddess!

What. What. What.

In this, the culmination of her sins, the finale of Solas' millennia of taking the blame for shit she set in motion, Mythal is... Flat as hell. Millennia of her scheming. Surviving. Using and abusing her children, arguably using and abusing Solas, seducing and manipulating and whatever it takes to nudge things her way. And now she's just... Kinda imperious I guess? And Morrigan just has her memories and nothing is bad about that ever. Huh.

The thing is, I was never against Mythal, in all her complex nastiness. We didn't know what her game was! I just wanted to know! What made it all worth it? What was the plan?

Well I guess the plan was--nothing? Don't worry about it. I guess.

Side note, the design work on the Mythal fragment was some Computer Animation Is My Passion, early 2000's Barbie straight to VHS looking shit. Profoundly disappointing. Did you even try.

Tell, don't show

Is the strange new voice in the blight coming from over there really horrifying? Or did you just say it was roughly fifteen times, but then actually it was just a big blob of Blight that you had to shoot extra times? Is the Butcher cruel? Or did Teia and Viago just tell us he was cruel with absolutely no detail whatsoever? Is Minrathous really blighted if you choose to save Treviso? Or are there just more beggars and some rubble and literally one blighted character? And so on, and so forth.

Remember that popular post not long ago, about how one of the great joys of Dragon Age was the sifting through unreliable narrators? Piecing together Avvar epic poetry and fragments of ancient elvhen runes and Andrastian canticles to try to guess what actually happened. The unique and unusual (in fiction) joy of the historiography of it all? We got to actively engage with the discovery. We got to piece together that Solas was the Dread Wolf, bit by difficult to find bit.

The fridge horror of it all could be really incredible. Making us work it out for ourselves meant that we experienced it much more intimately. It was an incredible storytelling tool.

Yeah I guess we just watch movies about it now. Just plug in the DVD Wolf statuette and now we know. And the codexes are reduced to flavor text and puzzle clues.

And last but definitely most,

Flat writing

Look man I know that's subjective as shit but it was. A lot of it was. You either agree or you don't, but for me, it was never more obvious than in the moments of contrast, when it was up to standard. The conversation with the Butcher. Every minute with Solas. Spite.

Contrast the Butcher (intense! Passionate! Creepy fucken pale face Harkonnen vibes! Deranged but genuine love for Treviso!) with the Dragon King (I don't even know what to put here. You don't even have to fight him! He just...blusters, and then there's a dragon, and then Taash shoves him and he falls over.)

It's just...I could probably forgive a lot of the stuff that went before if it was just more compellingly written.

Even here I absolutely will not be getting into character complaints. Those are too personal, and frankly I think people should keep them to private conversations. They have too much potential to hurt people for too little gain.

Sigh. I'm done now. I will try to focus on the good and the creative because I think that contributes a great deal more to everything and everyone. But for now, let me contemplate what could have been.

[chirpingfromthebox]

An Incredibly Biased Primer to the Minnesota Frost Roster

First of all, you should know that I am by no means a hockey expert. I was never one for playing sports, and most of my hockey knowledge comes from watching MN Wild games back in the days before I got too busy with school and never got back to it. So take what I say with a grain of salt. I like who I like and I don't have any real knowledge of the NCAA nor the lore of women's hockey history. But I love hearing from all the wonderful hockey players, and NCAA fans, and general WoHo historians, and everyone else on here who are so much more knowledgeable than I. (as well as just the other fans like myself).

In any case here is my very biased guide to some of the big names (imho) on the Frost's roster to give any new fans a place to start. Especially because our team is all about the drama and we deserve nice things for daring to ride the chaos coaster.

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

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

Unlike every other hockey player list in the world, I'm not going to start with the Forwards.

Defenders are my favorite and so I'm gonna start with them!

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

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

Defenders

And because this is my list, I'm also gonna start with my favorite player and first in the number order:

Lee Stecklein!

Stecklein is a 6 foot tall master of defense and one of the alternate captains for the Frost (so if you see an "A" on someone's jersey that's what that means). And she has won basically everything there is to win.

An Olympic gold medal? Yes. An NCAA National Championship? 3 of them. An Isobel Cup? Yep. What about an IIHF Championship? U18 or World Championship, you ask? It doesn't matter, because she's done both. She has since retired from the National Team, but was a staple on it for a long time.

After I started watching the PWHL last season she was the player that really caught my eye. Even though the camera wants to follow the action, I am often trying to look at what defenders are doing and I kept noticing #2, because she was always where the opposing offensive wanted to be. You'd swear she can see 5 seconds into the future, because she is just consistently exactly where she needs to be.

And, maybe this is neither here nor there, but I swear she is also just an incredibly graceful skater. Any hockey players out there please confirm or deny this. While a lot of players skate like they're attacking the ice, Stecklein seems to glide across it.

Okay, okay, enough gushing here's some things to note. She had the most penalty minutes of any Frost player last season. But she laughingly claims this was due to refs being inconsistent with where exactly the line was on how league was calling penalties at the beginning. So don't expect her to repeat that distinction.

In terms of defense she often goes under the radar because she's a shutdown defender more than an offensive one. So don't expect her to be racking up points this season. But anytime the Frost is in trouble expect to see her on the ice. She's big, she has incredible hockey sense, and a leading force both on and off the ice for the Frost's defense.

Her skill on defense AND as a leader is a big part of why I think the Frost's defense is something for other teams have to take real seriously.

Sophie Jaques

Jaques was the Patty Kazmaier award winner in 2023. She was part also part of one of the biggest stories of season one: Boston trading Jaques to Minnesota for Susanna Tapani. This was a pretty big deal because Jaques was Boston's 2nd round draft pick and Tapani was Minnesota's 5th round pick! So this was a pretty massive trade.

It was also notable for being a genius move by both teams. Both players went on to really excel on their new teams in ways they hadn't been before. Consider this, during the 7 games she played for Boston she had 0 goals and 0 assists. Then she goes to Minnesota, they have complete faith in her, she starts working with Lee Stecklein, and then in her 15 regular season games with MN she had 2 goals and 8 assists. (She also nearly got the championship winning goal for Minnesota in the Finals, but that's a whole different story.)

Unlike Stecklein, Jaques is an offensive defender. You can expect her to be a part of some big plays and part of the defense line when they want a d-pair with some bite.

Also, if you're like me and sometimes have letters shift around on you a little bit, you should note that there is no "C" in her name and it's pronounced "Jakes."

Claire Thompson

Thompson was our first round draft pick this season. It was also a pick that really fucked up everyone's predictions for the draft. It was generally thought at the time that Minnesota would want to grab Cayla Barnes. Also that it would probably be a Canadian team that went for Thompson as she was part of the Canadian national team that won the World Championship in 2021 and the Olympic Gold in 2022.

My knowledge on her is limited, but from what I do know she's an interesting pick. It was a bit of a gamble by Minnesota because she had taken a year off hockey to study for med school. But from what I've seen from her she was on Team Canada for a reason. A defense player that's also a goal-scoring threat.

She could lead to some really interesting d-pairs this season. Like a hyper offense combo of Jaques and Thomspon? Things could get really spicy there. She could go a long way to giving Minnesota some really interesting ways to utilize their defense this season.

Maggie Flaherty

The best smile on the team. A ray of sunshine. Scored Minnesota's first goal of the playoffs [in game 3!] and stoked the fires to victory. Dances like no one's watching. And a solid defender. She's a delightful human being and will bring you much joy.

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

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

Okay, okay, we can talk about Offense now. Since you INSIST.

Forwards

Kendall Coyne Schofield

Let's start out with our captain and a pivotal figure in the founding of the league. She had recently given birth last season and still managed to lead the team to a championship, so imagine what she'll be able to do now!

She is well known for being fast. She's only 5'2" so between her acceleration and her skating skill, if she slips past the defense she's a hard one to catch. Now a seasoned WoHo veteran she's also capable of being a real play maker. And even though she's small she can fight out a puck from the corners with the best of them.

If I tried to list everything she's done in and for women's hockey we'd be here all day.

She's probably the most serious of the PWHL captains and is the type to speak with her actions more than her words. So you generally won't see her blowing up on social media. She's also my favorite captain to transcribe in interviews because she is incredibly terse.

Taylor Heise

The one, the only, the first ever draft pick in the PWHL! She was out for part of the season for an injury and still managed to be a big goal scorer for Minnesota. When she came back she wasn't playing at her usual level until the playoffs. But if she plays the way she did in the playoffs this season? Oooo, it'll be spicy.

She is currently rocking a knee brace though, but she isn't on the long term injury list? So we'll have to see how she's feeling. Hopefully she avoids further injury this season.

Her talent on the ice in undeniable and she's more than likely a future captain for the team. But trust me, you don't need me to tell you that. Her play will speak for itself when she takes the ice.

What you can't tell from the game footage is that she is one of the most gracious and gregarious members of the team. If you go to any home games this year be on the lookout for her if you head to the autograph table after the game. Even when she isn't on table duty she often comes up to say hi to fans, take pictures, and sign autographs.

Truly just such a friendly and generous person. I have yet to see a fan walk away from her without a big ol' smile on their face.

Also notable for being BFFs with her fellow Frost forward Grace Zumwinkle, who she played with in college.

Grace Zumwinkle

Truly a force of nature.

Heise might get more attention, but don't get it twisted, Zumwinkle is currently the best forward on the team.

Yes, the stats are busted because of Heise's injury. But it's still fact. I don't care. Fight me.

Zummie has the distinction of getting the first hat trick in the PWHL. Which she did in her first game of the season! She was tied with Sarah Nurse for 2nd most goals in the regular season (at 11 goals). She also rightly won the award for rookie of the year. And honestly it wasn't even close. [Emma Maltais fans will disagree here, and I respect their case, she was great too, but they are also wrong. Fight me.]

She was Minnesota's 3rd round draft pick in year one. Darwitz knew that Zum and Heise worked well together and purposefully wanted to get the pair together.

I don't know why, but I feel like a lot of people sleep on Zumwinkle. I rarely hear of her when people are talking about the league powerhouses. But trust me, she's not a player to underestimate.

Her BFF antics with Heise are also a source of great joy and delight to all.

Michela Cava

Cava is an interesting case. She has a laundry list of accolades and championships to her name. She's won the SDHL championship. She's won the ZhHL championship. She's won the PHF championship. And now she's won a PWHL championship too!

She was a solid forward during the regular season. I wouldn't say she really lived up to her full potential, but she was definitely a strong player nevertheless.

But in the playoffs? Oh ho ho! *chef's kiss*

Cava has a bit of a reputation for leaving nothing on the ice when it comes to playoffs. If I'm not mistaken she was actually the playoff MVP for every one of those championships she won before coming to the PWHL? And she went full tilt once again!

Even though Heise ended up winning the Playoff MVP last season Cava tied her for points! [Cava went 4 goals, 4 assists; Heise went 5 goals, 3 assists].

So in a worst case scenario she is a really solid forward. In a best case scenario? She runs over the opposition all season.

Now, as a Frost fan, I'm going to assume that you're at least partially here for the delicious drama. So let me point out to you that last season Cava played on the Frost with her girlfriend Emma Greco. However, this year Greco plays for Boston. Which means any MN v. BOS game will have a little extra spice.

Kelly Pannek

The Frost's other alternate captain.

...I'm sorry...I just looked her up to make sure I had my facts straight and saw something wild and now I need to address it. Apparently she set the state record in high school for quickest hat trick with 3 goals in 22 seconds?? I mean, wtf! That goalie probably still wakes up in a cold sweat some nights from that.

Okay, back on task. Pannek actually played with Lee Stecklein in college for the University of Minnesota [Stecklein was a year ahead of her]. And like Stecklein she has won basically everything there is to win. [This is why her new beer is called "Been There, Won That."]

During last regular season she was 16th in the league in terms of points, so she was definitely in the upper echelon. [for the record Kendall Coyne Schofield was 13th, and Grace Zumwinkle was 7th.]

So definitely expect Pannek to be making things happen this season.

Liz Schepers

Okay, so hear me out.

Yes, Schepers had 0 goals and 3 assists during the regular season. BUT if you want to see what she's capable of just look at the playoffs. She was an absolute menace to Toronto!

In the first 3 goals Minnesota had against them, every single one of them came from a Schepers assist. Another way to say that is that she assisted with every Frost goal of Games 3 and 4. (The team didn't score at all in the first two games, but we won't talk about that)

Who knows what will happen this season. All I'm saying is that if Schepers starts to pop off, I will thoroughly not be surprised.

Also she has an adorable dog named Rookie. So you know, there are multiple reasons to look out for her.

Klára Hymlárová

You'll have to ask someone more familiar with international play knowledge for the scoop here. She was our 3rd round draft pick though and I'm curious to find out what they saw in her. All I know is that she was a top player for the Czech national team. Check out this little article for some more insider knowledge on what she can bring to a team.

I'm dying to see how all these international players are gonna change the play of the game, so I'll be keeping an eye on her and seeing what transpires.

Goalies

Saving the most important position for last: our goalies!

Minnesota was the only team last season to fully embrace a goalie tandem style. Everyone else had their main goalie and tended to only swap them out when they wanted to give them a break. [Except for Ottawa who never wanted to give Maschmeyer a break.]

And this tandem was incredibly effective! So if you too love goalies you're in luck, because you'll get to see both of them on a regular basis. Plus it has the added bonus of making every game a little more exciting by wondering who will be starting that game.

This duo was so effective that Minnesota is the only team this season to put their 3rd goalie on reserve. It's an interesting move to be sure, and yet it does make sense because they are the only team that really knows exactly what they want to do for goalies this season.

But who are these goalies who we have so much trust in?

Nicole Hensley and Maddie Rooney of course!

Hensley was Minnesota's 2nd round draft pick last season, so that should give you a clue of how badly Darwitz wanted her on the team. She's a lover of Reeses Peanut Butter Cups. And more importantly one of the U.S. national team's go-to goalie picks for quite a while now.

And I bet you're wondering, has she won a gold medal? Yes! She has. But interestingly enough when she won it in 2018 and she wasn't the starting goalie that year (although she did shutout Russia). Who was the starting goalie that year?

Maddie Rooney!

If you want to get a sense of just how stacked the PWHL's goalie lineups are consider this: Rooney wasn't drafted at all! Minnesota invited her to training camp and then signed her there. A friggin' gold medal-level goalie went undrafted. I mean, talk about an epic training camp pickup.

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

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

There are plenty more players on the team, but these are the ones that I think are the most notable / just some of my favorites. This is probably riddled with typos and mistakes, but whatever! I'm really tired and need to get to bed. If I missed anyone's favorite, be sure to let us know. As well as giving us the run down of what makes them so cool. ;)

[assortedvillainvault]

Disney villains reacting to you nonchalantly calling them your husband/wife please?

Sure thing Anon! You didn’t specify who, so I’m going to go for Hades, Jafar, and for funsies...Mim.

Disney Villains vs The Accidental Matrinonial Pet Name Slip Up

Hades

MHM!

Yeah baby flex his title, say his name! He can’t stop his flame from swooshing up and only barely resists the urge to pump his fist.

VERY likely to holler it across the street at random incidental strangers. Hey, you! Yeah schmuck you heard, he’s your HUSBAND, get it right!

Honestly he’s smiling like SUCH a goober, he can’t keep his hands off you now. Shoulders, waist, lower back – pretty much everything to say you’re an item without actually hollering it across the street like he just did to some poor bozo.

He’s also gonna swing you round into a big ol’ kissy and amp up the PDA.

Have you considered maybe matching outfits babe? Not- y’know, that he’s into ‘coordinated looks’ and all that garbage, but, know, maybe same pins? Same colours? Anything really, to mark you out as an item on his arm.

Much as he loves claiming you and making that abundantly clear, he’s also very much into being claimed in turn, y’know? Nice to know you’re proud of being with him, gets him all happy and excited. Loudly and proudly claim that he’s your husband in a public space (esp in front of his family) and he’s going to be an absolute sap for anything you wanna do.

Aphrodite has never seen such a lovestruck fool in all her life and honestly? She thinks half of Olympus could take notes on what love looks like after marriage from you two. Not that she’s ever going to say that when Hera is within earshot...

Jafar

He's startled... then sinks into a smug smile at how adorable you are.

Yes, he IS your husband, isn’t he? Why, he wouldn’t mind you saying it again, slower, maybe….

He’s one to get touchy, like Hades, but much more possessively. He’ll play with your hair, tug you close when you least expect it, and is a BIG fan of pulling you into his lap as a break from work.

Granted, he’s also very fond of subtly using his status as your husband to manipulate you into doing things for him. It IS your duty to him, after all…why is he holding his staff up like that-

Make sure to collaborate with Iago to push him down the stairs every once in a while to temper his ego. Put mousetraps on his side of the bed. Fill his shoes with sand and bat your eyes at him when he complains. Give and take.

He expects you to use your status as his partner for your own gain. Of course? Why wouldn’t you? Go on, tell the guards who you’re married to, see how quickly they get out of your way.

He’s also going to kiss you with tongue about it, but that’s a given.

Madam Mim

I have genuinely no idea if you’ve actually managed to get a ring on this menaces finger or just called her wifey for the vibes and a joke.

Regardless, she’ll blink owlishly...then a slow cheshire grin full of unpleasant promise and gleaming green eyes will split her face and honestly? You’re beyond help.

The Game has begun.

Will IMMEDIATELY use her wifey title to nag you then knock something over.

She’ll burst in to whatever room you’re in to trip you up, ‘straighten’ your clothes and force feed you a meal that could wrench whole kingdoms into developing indoor plumbing four centuries early.

The sound of mad old woman giggles is going to follow you everywhere you go.

If you chicken out and try to tell people she’s not your wife she will LOSE IT

Crying, wailing, screaming - throwing herself dramatically over public furniture to ‘cry’ about how you’ve betrayed her and how she ‘does so much for you’ and oh! The INGRATITUDE, taking advantage of a poor old woman-

Ants! Wardrobe full of ants for 10’000 years.

Thanks so much for the ask!!

[plus-size-reader]

Meeting the Family

Foggy Nelson x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1821 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Foggy asking Matt about you, his hot foster sister who comes to bring them some take-out one night.

—————————————————————————————————

“Yeah, we’re here. Just park wherever. I’ll buzz you in, it’s 312”

Matt’s voice mindlessly filled his apartment as he spoke into his phone, currently pressed between his shoulder and his ear.

He had been on the phone for about six minutes now, and right about the time it started to sound like plans were being made, that was when Foggy’s interest peaked.

After all, he lived in their shared place too and whatever was going on was bound to involve him in what seemed like a matter of minutes.

“Whose on the phone?” He whispered, getting quickly waved off as Matt focused on the task at hand. Whoever had called seemed to be still chatting away which only interested Foggy further.

So, out of options, he made his way over to the window, hoping that whoever was coming up was close enough to the building for him to scope something out.

…and he was in luck.

Right across the way, in the parking lot attached to the student center was a young woman talking excitedly into her phone, lugging bags of chinese takeout in her free hand.

In all honesty, he doubted that was who was coming to visit, as neither Foggy nor Matt had had a pretty girl visit them since moving in but the details didn’t matter.

Once he started looking at her, he felt like he couldn’t stop.

Everything about her was captivating to him from the bright smile on her face as she spoke to the way she cleverly dodged tripping on the curb after clipping her heel stepping onto the street.

It was charming, as charming as a complete stranger could be and it actually made his chuckle.

“Nice save” he laughed under his breath, thinking about all the times he’d nearly wiped out in the same spot. “What is?” Matt wondered, suddenly appearing behind Foggy and nearly making the man jump out of his skin.

Apparently his phone call had ended, and he’d taken it upon himself to sneak up on his roommate, which always seemed surprisingly easy for him, given the whole being-blind-thing.

“This girl on the street, she almost ate it on the asphalt” he allowed, making room at the window for his roommate, not that he would be able to see her anyway.

Matt nodded, listening to your footsteps as you approached their building and made your way up to the call box. It was after official visiting hours in the building, but as long as he let you in, there wouldn’t be a problem.

Then, almost in sync with your movements, came the buzzing from downstairs. “That’s my sister, she wanted to see the place so I had her bring some food”

It was casual, all things considered, and still, the news hit Foggy like a ton of bricks.

Sister?

Since when did Matt have a sister?

“Hold on. You mean, you are related to her?” Foggy clarified, his jaw practically hanging down to the floor as he tried to process this new information.

Why was this the first he was hearing about it? And had you been this adorable the entire time?

Matt took a passive note of the way his roommate’s heart rate spiked briefly but thought nothing of it. Foggy was excitable and this wouldn’t be the first time he overreacted.

“Not really. We grew up together at the orphanage, became each other's family” he explained, hoping that was enough information without getting into your shared and very complicated history.

Really, there were enough stories between the two of you to fill hours and hours but there was no point dwelling on that now.

“That’s cool. I have a couple siblings too. I just didn’t expect to be meeting the family” Foggy tried, wondering casually if he needed to change into a cooler shirt before you made it up the three flights of stairs or if that would be too obvious.

After all, it was sort of against guy code to go after your buddies hot sister but it wasn’t like Matt wanted you anyway. It would be a waste if he didn’t at least make a good impression.

The knock on the door sent both men into motion, but for two very different reasons.

Matt made his way across the short expanse of the apartment to the front door while Foggy beelined for the bathroom, figuring he could fix his hair if nothing else.

“Hey Matty” you cooed, a wide grin on your face the moment Matt appeared in the doorway.

You two hadn’t seen each other since he moved in and, in your opinion, that had been far too long. After all, you had spent most of your lives a few doors down from one another.

You weren’t used to having to travel to see him.

“I heard you tripped in the parking lot on your way up” he joked, pulling you into a tight hug and closing the door.

You scoffed, at first because he would have the guts to make fun of you when you came all this way with the best chinese food in town and then because there was no normal way for him to know that.

“How?-” you started but he waved you off with a gentle nudge, “Nosy roommate”

Then, as if on cue, Foggy emerged, doing his best to look both as handsome and as normal as he ever had. His hair was still untamed, sitting just below his shoulders, but at least he’d brushed it.

That had to count for something.

“You must be the nosy roommate” You nodded, pointing him out as you put the pieces together, “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N”

On instinct, you produced your hand for him to shake it but Foggy didn’t move. He wanted to, he really really did, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t do anything but stare.

Which was definitely very calm, and normal of him.

There was a beat of silence as you tried to figure out what to do, and Matt waited for Foggy to say something but it never came.

“That’s Foggy, and you can set the food in the kitchen”

You nodded, tapping his arm gingerly as you passed so he’d know you walked away before setting a new course toward where the little kitchenette across the apartment was.

Their place was no bigger than a dorm but considering two college boys lived in the space and one of them was completely blind, it was well kept and way nicer than you would have expected.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Foggy turned to his roommate with what could only be described as an incredulous glare dressing his face.

“Hey, so not to be weird but what the deal with your super hot sister?” Foggy hummed, hoping that his tone didn’t give away how aggressively he was ogling you to his best friend.

He could have used a heads up, at least.

He didn’t want to be inappropriate or make either of you uncomfortable of course but it wasn’t every day that such a beautiful woman invited herself into his living space and he was a little caught off guard.

He didn't want to miss an opportunity.

Not that you were an opportunity, of course.

He would never stoop so low as to think of you that way, he just wasn’t that kind of a guy.

Still, he was a guy and there was no getting around the fact that he was sure you were the most stunning person he’d ever laid eyes on, and he’d seen lots of people in his time.

“First of all, there’s no deal and second, she isn’t super hot” Matt answered, scrunching up his face as he considered that the reason behind Foggy’s increased heart rate was likely surrounding you.

Which was already far too much information as far as he was concerned.

“I can assure you, my friend, that she is uber hot, even if you can’t see it for yourself,” the blonde argued back, shamelessly letting himself watch as you searched the cabinets for actual plates.

You were sort of just hoping they would have some.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back” Foggy allowed, leaving Matt searching for which one of the movies in their extensive DVD collection they could watch while you were here.

You had gone through and made him braille labels for all the cases a while back, and now, all he had to do was decide which of the vast selection seemed right.

“The plates are up here” Foggy called, half jogging toward where you were still searching to reach up and grab the few dishes they had acquired together.

It didn’t even occur to him to wait for you to move before he did though, resulting in you basically being boxed in between his frame and the countertop.

There was a moment between the two of you as you met his eyes, a couple plastic plates held in his hands, the space between you essentially miniscule.

“Thanks, I was starting to think I’d never find them” you tried, doing your best to cover up how flustered the situation had made you, because you had just met him, after all.

There was no way you could have a crush on him already, right? Those things took time.

Though, how much time definitely seemed to vary because in the twenty minutes he’d known about your existence, Foggy would definitely say he had some kind of feelings for you.

He just wasn’t sure how to go about acting on them yet.

Foggy laughed, it still not occurring to him that he should back away from you, mostly because he didn’t really want to. “It’s no problem. We don’t really use them, not a lot of company”

That didn’t seem likely to you at first but between the two of them, you weren’t really sure who would have anyone to invite over more than the other.

“I’m sure you have girls over all the time” there was humor in your voice, but you were just as curious as teasing.

Surely you weren’t the first person to have noticed how darling he was. You thought the students at Columbia were supposed to be smart.

“Food’s getting cold!”

Matt interrupted your conversation before Foggy could assure you that, without a doubt, there were no other girls he’d rather have going through his dishware than you.

The reminder that you were not only not alone but also in the company of your brother made your skin hot but you did your best to cover it up with another light laugh. “

Coming right up, Murdock. Don’t get your panties in a knot” Foggy called, making a show of handing you the plates he’d so gallantly fetched for you before grabbing the take out bags, “And just for the record-there are no girls”

[comikbook]

do you have any character design tips? all your characters look so cool and i struggle so hard with designing characters lol

hi yes !!!! okay okay so first off all of my characters are dnd characters, so i will start with going thru the list of races available and pick one that i think is cool or interesting.

the next thing i do is i come up with a theme. is this character based off of an animal ? does this character have a trope i want to explore ? is there a specific setting i want to make this character fit into ? these are all questions im asking myself

for example, this is my character mercy !!

i knew when i was making her my first idea was “i want a cowboy oc” !! I also knew i wanted a vampire character, i mashed the ideas together !

I thought to myself about cowboy media I had seen and enjoyed, and decided she would be based on one of my favorite movies, true grit (the 2010 version)

you may see the resemblance to the two main characters !! i picked different things from each character that i liked, most of her being based on the character on the left, with some elements of the one on the right. this gave me my “base” to work with !

I then started to think about outfits, my favorite part !!

I will always always always reccomend searching thru pinterest when designing a character. look at runway/ high fashion pics to get an idea for interesting sillhouettes. what is your characters ethnicity or time period ? look at historical clothing associated with either. look at pieces made by fashion students, find different elements that you think look interesting and make a list of what it is you particularly are drawn to. heres some images i gathered when i was designing mercy.

while not exact the vision was starting to come together !! this is the point where i start sketching, trying out different outfit combos and cycling thru the elements i listed before. Once i have a very basic sillhouette/idea of the outfit, this is when i start embellishing !!!!

for example, i liked the tassles on the hat, okay done, where else can i include tassles ? i considered the vest, but ultimately decided on the cuffs of the sleeves. the cool thing about that is the tassles from the hat coming down to the cuffs creates a triangle shape in the figure. This enforces a sillhouette and creates a balence to the design !!

I also liked the idea of an embroidered vest, and embroidery in general that is seen in a lot of cowboy outfits, i embraced that and brought in more embroidered details in the bag and the gun holster.

At this point I had my outfit sketched out ! then I went onto coloring !!! picking colors for a design is typically the hardest and most time consuming part for me, however with mercy i had a clear idea. I wanted to create a sepia color scheme, very neutral, to emulate old western photographs !! so thats what i went with ! lots of browns, brassy metal, black, and cream. I also knew she was a vampire, and knew I wanted to draw a lot of pieces with blood and thought the red would stand out white nicely from the neutral tones of her pallet :) (another cool thing to consider which i did not do for mercy is color langage and using certain colors with certain meanings to emphasize the theme)

With all of this done now, i had my design !!! after this point is where I make a series of sketches of the character to really get the hang of drawing them, different poses to figure out personality, things like that !! Things evolve over time of course, but usually my characters i am able to do a one and done type approach and rarely have to entirely scrap and redesign them. its all about having fun and learning what it is you want to see in the design of characters in media !!!

I hope this helped some !! im not the best with my words but this is a pretty good run thru of what i do for each character !!

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Perfect 10 day! I do appreciate how most of my shows are actually spread out right now, rather than the Fri/Sat tsunami that we were getting at one point.

Ah, ok, so we did not get episode 5 sex. Just some mild foreplay.

To give him credit, considering where Arm is emotionally right now, it's not a terrible idea to still give things time.

Side note - Force being able to handle Book's jump on him without losing balance is hella impressive, Book is not a small boy!

Aw, Arc wanting to help Arm have better memories of the ocean is actually very sweet.

Lol, the robes with the sneakers.

Hmm, it's interesting the way they are both talking about the bracelet. Clearly they would both be really upset if the other didn't want to keep it going, but there's also this dancing around it, because Arm doesn't want to go there emotionally yet, and Arc doesn't want to scare Arm with the depth of his feelings.

Heh, not the text immediately reinforcing what I just said.

Arm coming in and doing the equivalent of "we need to talk about meeeeee"

which is why I love shows like this, because the friendship stuff is always A+. Po and Sand are immediately, "tell us all about it poor baby".

These little idiots. They already knew Arc liked Arm!

Oh these thirsty bitches fishing for details.

Gawin, if you are going to keep showing up looking so saucy, I'm gonna need your series right now, k thnx bye.

(Seriously, anyone else increasingly losing their mind over the idea of watching this man get chomped on by vampire Joss?)

Ha, Pond immediately getting what Arc is trying to do because of his own flirtation.

Omg, please tell me this is a Chekhov's gun for Warm clicking with someone at some point!

Also did Copp sound a little pointed in his criticism there to anyone else? Or just wishful thinking?

Hmm, bringing in these "buddies". I'm sure this will lead to no drama whatsoever.

Well, from the size of him, probably a lot of super nourishing food!

Haha, I do love those moments where you can tell Arm wants to act annoyed, but can't help being pleased.

There is no logical reason for Arm to have taken the assignment out of his bag in Arc's car, but I love it anyway. College fantasy romance is adorable.

A-ngun has Arm's number. Love that she is 1) super cool about him and Arc, and 2) being a cute teasing friend to Arm.

Look at our smitten baby!

Oh, Po. We've all been there baby. Some of us quite a lot.

Not Sand backing up Po about how nice his house walls are. I love this dork so much.

Ahhh, more PondSand flirting, pleeeeeease.

Ok, which GMMTV star is going to be our mysterious player?

Why do I feel like the director had trouble reining in Book, Poon, and JJ sometimes, lol? These little chaos monkeys.

Ok, I knew it was coming and the cut still made me laugh.

I do appreciate that Arc is not mad. I feel like an old school college BL would have him drag Arm home. Here he's just emphasizing he wants him safe, but there's no anger or manipulation to it.

Oh Arm, you little dummy. But you know Arc is living for this.

But also where is Pond?! I need him to do some Sand caretaking.

I am such a sucker for these sweet little moments.

All of them are such dummies, but such cute ones.

Lol, Po out here speaking truth, we appreciate our boy.

Ha, and once again, Po being super relatable.

Huh, I never noticed before that Force and Gawin are pretty much the exact same size. It's so clear in their uniforms next to one another.

Ugh, not the hashtags. People need better hobbies.

Omg, the noise I just made out loud!

I love that Arc is immediately like "well, fuck". Yep, that is one pretty, pretty man.

This is all very typical college BL stuff, but I'm still having a good time. It's light and silly, and doesn't stress me out. Comfort tv has its place.

[cursedfortune]

Mortem laughed lightly at the thought of his boredom leading him to harass the Heavens. She'd love to be a fly on the wall for that. Upsetting deities was a respectable hobby, in her opinion. Though, given his reputation, she was sure it would cause quite the stir.

"But I see your meaning. I've had plenty come to my home demanding the same. Or not even having the courtesy to ask - sometimes they go straight for the jugular under their own assumptions." Mortem lamented playfully. She wasn't really that bothered, it kept life semi-interesting. At least, when someone worth the interest came along. But even when it wasn't someone of interest, at least the corpses could make for good fertilizer for her gardens.

Despite the audacity the deities had, she supposed it was nice they recognized his power enough to talk first instead of trying to attack. Showed a bit of wisdom on their behalf, also meant his mountain wasn't constantly getting banged up or worse. Unlike her cabin. The enchantments she had to place upon it to cease fixing it constantly was a bit ridiculous - if not a bit sad.

His opinion of the festival was one she was amused by. It was rather quaint they upheld such a tradition, especially in an age where harvests weren't a thing mortals struggled with any longer. Still, appreciating the trials of the past was something that would always garner her respect. The importance of history, the value and relevancy it had - setting a foundation for the present, as the present set a foundation for the future... it was all of value. She worked hard to ensure history would not be forgotten, regardless of where in the world it could happen.

"If you'd like to attend a festival that celebrates a great battle that was overcome, I certainly know of a place back home. You ought to come visit at the end of spring." She invited. The capital city and high kingdom that unified all the others often held a celebration. A remembrance. It was a bittersweet event, but it possessed a reminder of their history - the value of keeping that knowledge alive was important beyond words. And hearing people speak so fondly, so admirably of the people she knew so longer ago still... It was always worth attending for that alone.

As they walked, she observed the passing people - the happy children, smelled the various foods in the air. All before she noticed his hand signaling her to pause. Curiously, the witch followed - wondering just what caught his eye.

How unexpected... an appreciation for stained glass? He'd really like the festival in her capital, then. Those from the neighboring desert always brought with them sand-blown glass. Wind chimes, vases, art of all kinds with such beautiful craftsmanship.

The chime of it was pretty, no wonder he was drawn to it. Mortem observed the way it swayed, the hum of its chimes, the way the light caught the glass.

"This would look nice upon a mountain, I'd think." She took her chin between her fingers after a moment, "I can imagine the sunlight catching the glass - the breeze making pleasant music." She considered aloud, totally encouraging and enabling him without an ounce of shame. To see such wonder and appreciation from Wukong, well, how could she not suggest such when it clearly made him so happy to see and hear?

From her pouch, she pulled out a coin that would suffice in its payment. It idly rolled across the back of her knuckles before she set it down on the counter before Wukong as a gift - unsure if her new friend had the currency for this country or not. Not wanting him to feel put on the spot to buy it or not, or possibly regarding whether he had the currency or not, the witch walked away to let him decide what he wanted to do. She opted to meander down the tables, admiring the glasswork as she flicked a bell from another wind chime along the way.

Money meant nothing to someone as old as she. What was priceless was seeing the little joys that adorned another's face. Especially the face of someone whose company she was enjoying.

The sounds of children, people talking among one another, of animals and who knows what else, Sun was starting to be glad he had the correct number of ears. He wondered, idly, how Macaque would deal with this much sound; if he’d get overwhelmed, or would simply ‘turn off’ his ears in favour of whichever company he tended to keep in this day and age. Sun knew he wouldn’t be part of said company, but he couldn’t help but to wonder about his fellow Stone Monkey during celebrations.

❝Well, you’d be happy to know that I’ve been bored lately. So perhaps the Heavens will get a visitor some time soon.❞ The Monkey had said, grinning, as if he was already scheming away; making plans and ideas to cause as much havoc as he could.

Or, perhaps, he’ll simply visit; cause them more anxiety knowing that the Monkey King was simply around and doing not a thing to disturb their holy lands. He knew that’ll cause the most trouble, to do nothing and simply grin – a prologue to the schemes he could be planning, and the anxieties that came with him.

Yes, the Heavens were nothing but peaceful; there was barely a ruckus to happen, unless one of the many Deities decided to do something. The last he heard, Nezha had a position of high respect – the kid, he remembered, being a thorn in his side when they last fought. He was glad the boy grew up into such a role, and he wondered if the Bull Demon’s son was still underneath the Goddess’ control, or if they were back together with their family. . .

. . . Although, he did piss off the Bull Demon in his later life; causing a rift in their brotherhood. It didn’t matter to Sun either way.

If the Bull Demon wanted to hate him over actions beyond his control, then so be it.

❝It’s nice, yes, to be checked up on but. . . Don’t you think most people would have more tack? Instead of coming to my home, and demanding to know what I’m up too.❞ He complained, although from his tone it was obvious it was nothing to be upset about. In fact, he seemed to miss it – a longing was in his voice, as if wishing for more intrusion from the Heavens would do him some good.

For a moment, the Monkey King wondered how it’d go if he was to have a visitor to his mountain whilst he was out; no doubt, it’ll cause a commotion in the Heavens.

Where did the Monkey King go, away from his people and mountain?

As children and people ran about – slipping by people without a second thought, still as agile as ever even with his tail wrapped around his waist – Sun couldn’t help but to hum out at the Witch’s explanation.

❝A, a festival of a bountiful harvest! How kind of them, to still celebrate such things.❞ He said, golden eyes everywhere but at the company he had besides him; falling on the booths of trinkets and novelistic goods. He was interested, certainly, but not enough to buy.

He had enough treasure and goods at home within his mountain; far more than he know what to do with, trinkets and do-da’s that even the Hells would get upset of him having. One of the most dangerous must’ve been the ink scroll he had hidden away, but hidden exactly he didn’t know. He needed to keep that protect the most, for it held. . .

❝Here I had hope this was a festival celebrating a win of sorts; although I doubt most would hold such events for such things now a days. Most ‘wins’ in the world these days tend to be celebrated at one’s home instead.❞ If this city was at war before, Sun couldn’t tell now; it’s people were cheerful, and unharmed by what war could do to a population.

There was no tired warriors walking about, longing for today to be over so they could go home to their families, nor was there a chorus of people celebrating a victory. It was as Mortem had said:

A festival of harvest.

One thing finally caught his attention for it shined in the light – catching his bright eyes with a refraction of light. He paused, bringing his hand up to tell her to pause, as he went to look. Hanging from a booth, from a vendor far too old to be handling a busy table at such a festival, was a stain glass wind chime of sorts, it gentle chime also causing the Monkey’s ears.

It was gorgeous as gorgeous could be; it’s stain glass of purples and blues and greens and teals caught the sun’s light and shined it colours about. With such child-like amazement. He was bewitched, it seemed, by it.

[mnemosyne-xiv]

Koana sighed. “Master Fourchenault recommended you two, along with this woman,” he said, sparing the memoriate a glance. “Why must we add a fifth?”

“If you think there's going to be too many cooks in the kitchen, you’ll be happy to learn that our friend loathes large parties and would rather work by her lonesome than entertain a crowd.” Thancred chuckled under his breath. “Besides, for as much trouble as she’s bound to cause, the insight and arcane mastery she’ll offer is more than enough to make up for her terrible attitude.”

Zero gave a faint nod. “Remia won’t disappoint.”

“Assuming thine companion deins to make an appearance,” Urianger spoke up. “Though, I find it curious she didn’t outright reject our request…”

“Talking behind a womans back is hardly polite.”

“I knew you’d come,” Zero said, a smile spreading across her lips as she turned towards her partner.

Remia shrugged while she walked up to the quartet. “You’ve agreed to go, so I have no choice but to at least humor the boy.” Her uncovered eye flicked to the man in question. And then she smirked, clearly amused with what she saw. “This is the Second Promise? Oh, what a waste of time this is about to be.”

Koana recovered from his initial shock only to glare at her. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Just look at you,” Remia mused, “and those memories of yours. My oh my, you’re going to lose to your sister because someone is too deadset on innovation without heeding the peoples wants and needs.”

“Remia,” Thancred said warningly.

She sighed. “Fine fine, what is it you want? He’s a lost cause, so perhaps you three have a better reason for urging the head of the Forum to summon me?”

Urianger nodded. “We wish for thine wisdom in the Rite of Succession.”

“Solely wisdom, or do you want me to fight for a man who isn’t fit to rule as well?” Remia asked.

“Give him a chance to speak, Remia,” Zero said.

Remia’s expression softened the slightest bit. “Go on then, tech-kitty.”

Koana exhaled a breath to calm himself. “I want to bring the technological advancements of Sharlayan to my homeland as a means of helping my people, and to repay my father for all the opportunities he has given me.”

A suffocating silence fell around them. Everyone’s attention was fixed on Remia who in turn stared at Koana, her blind eye seeing right through him. But after what felt like hours, she finally spoke.

“You’re genuine. Perhaps a bit awkward, and an utter failure when it comes to socializing—but that’s hardly a pre-requisite for a ruler considering the two voidsent i’m stuck advising on the Thirteenth…” Her voice trailed off while she further weighed the risks and rewards of this potential partnership. “Though, your heart is in the right place, your people coming first and foremost. Politics aside, ultimately that’s what truly matters.”

Zero smiled. “That’s her way of saying she’ll help.”

“Assuming you can tolerate her, that is.” Thancred then said, both him and Urianger chuckling as Remia awaited the Second Promises decision.

Koana cleared his throat. “What can you offer?”

“Depends, do you believe the golden city to be real?”

“I do.”

“And you’ll find it, no matter what?”

“I will.”

Remia cracked a smile. “Then I offer you all of my knowledge and strength in exchange for all that you learn after I make you Dawnservant.”

[arkiwii]

very sad still see the saria/silence divorce headcanon still going around

have you ever tried to consider that they never dated before lone trail because it would be unrealistic with the timeline and the events and also because it would be overshadowing the actual truth of why they couldn't get along

[godtiermageofspace]

You know, as a trans woman who read the books as a child, I've always seen that scene in entirely the opposite way. I've always read Tip as more allegorical for trans femmes, which makes that scene a moment of incredible joy and empowerment.

I've reread it as an adult a few times just because that scene was so formative to me, but it's been a little while so I decided to go back and read through it on Project Gutenburg. It's getting a little long, so I'm putting it under a read more.

“I!” cried Tip, in amazement. “Why, I’m no Princess Ozma—I’m not a girl!” Glinda smiled, and going to Tip she took his small brown hand within her dainty white one. “You are not a girl just now” said she, gently, “because Mombi transformed you into a boy. But you were born a girl, and also a Princess; so you must resume your proper form, that you may become Queen of the Emerald City.”

Okay, not the best start. It does sort of feel like Glinda is championing gender essentialism here. The book was written a hundred and twenty years ago, though, and not steeped in modern arguments about the nature of identity. I think it's really more about her being a monarchist than anything, which is...better? In the context of a fantasy novel, sure.

(Also it's a pretty solid first argument if you're a trans femme inclined to read this as more like wish-fulfillment. Why, you have to be forcefemmed for the good of your country!)

“Oh, let Jinjur be the Queen!” exclaimed Tip, ready to cry. “I want to stay a boy, and travel with the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, and the Woggle-Bug, and Jack—yes! and my friend the Saw-Horse—and the Gump! I don’t want to be a girl!” “Never mind, old chap,” said the Tin Woodman, soothingly; “it don’t hurt to be a girl, I’m told; and we will all remain your faithful friends just the same. And, to be honest with you, I’ve always considered girls nicer than boys.” “They’re just as nice, anyway,” added the Scarecrow, patting Tip affectionately upon the head. “And they are equally good students,” proclaimed the Woggle-Bug. “I should like to become your tutor, when you are transformed into a girl again.” “But—see here!” said Jack Pumpkinhead, with a gasp: “if you become a girl, you can’t be my dear father any more!” “No,” answered Tip, laughing in spite of his anxiety. “and I shall not be sorry to escape the relationship.”

It's definitely not great that all his traveling companions are piling onto him with reasons why he should go ahead with undoing the transformation. Honestly, though, I think this reads more as a continuation of (or a foil to) the General Jinjur plotline, which is a lot funnier if you read the book knowing that Frank L. Baum's mother-in-law was one of the foremost suffragists on the east coast at the time, who was also his editor. And he lived with her. Also note that Tip's words at the end are because he's spent the book a little uncomfortable that Jack Pumpkinhead follows him around calling him 'Father.' Another potential point on the scale for egg Tip, if that's something you're inclined to be looking for.

Then he added, hesitatingly, as he turned to Glinda: “I might try it for awhile,-just to see how it seems, you know. But if I don’t like being a girl you must promise to change me into a boy again.” “Really,” said the Sorceress, “that is beyond my magic. I never deal in transformations, for they are not honest, and no respectable sorceress likes to make things appear to be what they are not. Only unscrupulous witches use the art, and therefore I must ask Mombi to effect your release from her charm, and restore you to your proper form. It will be the last opportunity she will have to practice magic.” Now that the truth about Princes Ozma had been discovered, Mombi did not care what became of Tip; but she feared Glinda’s anger, and the boy generously promised to provide for Mombi in her old age if he became the ruler of the Emerald City. So the Witch consented to effect the transformation, and preparations for the event were at once made.

I feel like this may be the key moment to determine if you read Tip as being forced into this against his will vs. given a good reason to allow it and having his fears put at ease. As a kid, I obviously read Tip's line here as not a grudging admission at all, more as an effort not to seem too eager, but that's definitely affected by how I would have responded to being in this situation.

Unfortunately, I don't think the text supports that as well as I would like it to? Taken at face value, it seems more like he's legitimately uncertain but is willing to give it a try.

Glinda's response, however, is probably the most objectionable point here. I think I've always unconsciously softened it a bit when I read it. In all fairness, Tip doesn't object further to this despite saying that his previous agreement was conditional, but then again how much can we really expect an eight year old to go against the word of the most powerful sorceress in Oz, who is also the commander of the only functional military in the setting as well? Glinda's wording isn't completely airtight, but it does seem like she's giving an ultimatum here; Mombi will make the antidote, Tip will take it, and Mombi will be relieved of her magic. There won't be an opportunity for Tip to ask for the transformation to be reapplied if he doesn't like it.

Glinda ordered her own royal couch to be placed in the center of the tent. It was piled high with cushions covered with rose-colored silk, and from a golden railing above hung many folds of pink gossamer, completely concealing the interior of the couch. The first act of the Witch was to make the boy drink a potion which quickly sent him into a deep and dreamless sleep. Then the Tin Woodman and the Woggle-Bug bore him gently to the couch, placed him upon the soft cushions, and drew the gossamer hangings to shut him from all earthly view.

None of this is particularly relevant, but god, the pink and gold bed with the canopy of pink gossamer is just laser targeted at little eight or nine -year old baby egg me secretly wanting to be a princess.

The Witch squatted upon the ground and kindled a tiny fire of dried herbs, which she drew from her bosom. When the blaze shot up and burned clearly old Mombi scattered a handful of magical powder over the fire, which straightway gave off a rich violet vapor, filling all the tent with its fragrance and forcing the Saw-Horse to sneeze—although he had been warned to keep quiet. Then, while the others watched her curiously, the hag chanted a rhythmical verse in words which no one understood, and bent her lean body seven times back and forth over the fire. And now the incantation seemed complete, for the Witch stood upright and cried the one word “Yeowa!” in a loud voice. The vapor floated away; the atmosphere became, clear again; a whiff of fresh air filled the tent, and the pink curtains of the couch trembled slightly, as if stirred from within. Glinda walked to the canopy and parted the silken hangings. Then she bent over the cushions, reached out her hand, and from the couch arose the form of a young girl, fresh and beautiful as a May morning. Her eyes sparkled as two diamonds, and her lips were tinted like a tourmaline. All adown her back floated tresses of ruddy gold, with a slender jeweled circlet confining them at the brow. Her robes of silken gauze floated around her like a cloud, and dainty satin slippers shod her feet.

Once again, I cannot overstate how formative this scene was to me as a little eight-ish -year-old child. It's basically a classic 'girl just like you discovers she's actually a princess' fairy tail tailored directly to trans femmes.

Also, interestingly, despite Glinda's words previously, she doesn't seem to immediately be concerned with removing Mombi's magic, which I think is part of why I have always been able to read the scene as her following Tip's request to go back if they decided they wanted it. Maybe that wouldn't have proven true and Glinda wouldn't have allowed Mombi to redo the transformation if Ozma actually came out of the bed complaining, but since that didn't happen, we can pretend whichever way we like.

At this exquisite vision Tip’s old comrades stared in wonder for the space of a full minute, and then every head bent low in honest admiration of the lovely Princess Ozma. The girl herself cast one look into Glinda’s bright face, which glowed with pleasure and satisfaction, and then turned upon the others. Speaking the words with sweet diffidence, she said: “I hope none of you will care less for me than you did before. I’m just the same Tip, you know; only—only—” “Only you’re different!” said the Pumpkinhead; and everyone thought it was the wisest speech he had ever made.

I mean come on. How can anyone possibly read this in the modern day and not take it as an allegory for a transition? Obviously, Frank L. Baum was absolutely not trying to write a trans fairy tale here. I think he was more trying to write about how it didn't matter if you were a little boy or a little girl, that everyone was the same deep down and all that. He just really didn't know how to write little girls. Hence him also accidentally writing Dorothy and Ozma as girlfriends later on down the line.

In conclusion: yes, looking at the evidence, I think Ozma was kind of forcefemmed, but at the same time I don't think there's much evidence that they were upset about it after the fact. Additionally, I am far more interested in seeing a retelling of the Oz stories that focus around Dorothy's magical trans lesbian girlfriend, because I don't think I've ever actually seen that interpretation of the character in retellings. Interestingly, I think the angst over the whole forcefemming thing does come up in the second or third Wicked novel. I haven't read it, though.

Enough about Wicked. When is someone going to write an Oz spinoff exploring Tip/Ozma's feelings about getting forcefemmed.

[moiraimyths]

Before we call anon rude because let’s see it from their perspective, imagine getting an entire feast to eat. That can be pretty hard to start with so much that’s going on, but if they start with one thing they know they’ll like (aka one character they like) that can be the start for them leaping to other characters to finish the story and the bigger story. I struggle the same way to start book series if I don’t have at least one character that drives me to read it, it’s all about what can be the hook to push them through. Sounds like the anon is neurodivergent (just a guess) so they might genuinely not see it as rude and see it as a solution to even play the game to start with.

Btw absolutely adore the game, the complex and rich characters making them all so unique is amazing. The art is so pleasing to the eyes I love it!! I’m waiting for it all to get out at once so I don’t get too impatient. Shae however interests me the most, which routes will have the most lore for them? Will there be routes that give more lore in general based on decisions you make or do they all share the same amount? (I mean general lore not just Shae lore)

Apologies; we are not trying to accuse any asker of being rude! We are simply explaining our perspective as the developers / are trying to broadly encourage folks to dip their toes into other areas of the story outside of the main route(s) they're interested in, especially considering some routes will be made available sooner than others, and these other routes will likely contain additional scenes/lore of everyone's fave(s) regardless! We want to give each main cast member an equal amount of love (and lore) regardless of their overall popularity, so our goal is not to tut-tut anyone for having strong preferences for one character over the others, but rather to explain that you may be surprised by how much *more* you learn about your preferred characters in the other routes. That's all!

For Shae... Well, they were a foot soldier for one of the worst periods of the War. Lore wise, any other story that touches on the War will likely have content relevant to them and their experiences. ^^

[uitzinnigmp3]

When you hate the body you are in

Oh love, you're acting just for him

As he counts his gold and green in his ivory tower

AS GOOD A REASON | PARIS PALOMA

@lgbtqcreators creator bingo | colour