#so i actually spent time on a drawing when the topic came to drawing a creachur. tithi counts too actually

[maukiki1]

my son and his uncooked pasta bit-beast

also heres th lineart bcs the lineart was especially laborious lol

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Well if given how the anime will adapt the Manga, it makes me wonder about the savanaclaw adaptation given how many delays due to the artist's personal life that octavinelle Manga came around and is now have overblot Chapter before Savanaclaw does. I wonder if the author will have time to finish it and given how heartslabyul will release in October 2025, it might take awhile to animate savanaclaw.

[Referencing this news!]

Decided to put these together because the topics were similar enough and I have similar advice for both asks. To briefly clarify the second ask, I believe the Anon made a typo and meant to say "Yana Toboso was NOT involved in the anime's production". This is because Yana made a tweet recently stating that she and her team were surprised and honored that they were making an anime adaptation based on the manga.

Now, about the first ask: we are not aware of what the manga and anime creation process looks like for Twst. Yes, the Savanaclaw manga has had a number of delays, but we cannot be sure if this impacts the anime at all. For example, we don't know how much of the Episode of Savanaclaw anime is even done yet. We don't know if the anime team is going to be in talks with the mangaka to coordinate things. We don't know when the Episode of Savanaclaw will air (and for all we know, it could give the mangaka ample time to finish up). There are many things we do not know, so it would be VERY hasty to conclude anything now.

Regarding the second ask: Yes, it does seem like Yana had no involvement in the anime. This, however, should NOT be taken as an immediate sign that the anime will be poor quality or that the anime will deviate from the main story in large (and bad) ways. Nothing of the news we've heard so far would indicate any sweeping changes. This is equating a past occurrence with something that has yet to even happen without even knowing if the production circumstances are even the same between them. The only thing we know that is linking the animes of early Black Butler and Twst is Yana's lack of involvement. This doesn't account for ANY other factors in production, and it's also assuming that Yana's mere presence makes a product good--and, conversely, her absence automatically makes a product bad. I don't think this is the way to go, as it's jumping to conclusions based on minimal evidence and it's putting way too much weight on Yana's shoulders to carry the quality of the Twst anime.

And that brings me to the thread linking together not just these two asks, but a lot of the anime-related posts and asks that I've been seeing as of late: fearmongering and doomposting. Lots of it.

As I’ve said multiple times now, it's fine to be hesitant about the anime. I'm hesitant of it myself! However, let’s not draw preemptive conclusions or fret over what are ultimately hypotheticals. It’s so far off, and we have zero of the actual final product to look at and judge the quality of. I'm seeing so many people make mountains out of molehills, working themselves up over nothing, assuming the worst-case scenarios... 💦 and again, all of this based on little to no information. I can't help but that time and energy could be better spent on other fandom efforts or things we actively enjoy. It's valid to be anxious about the anime and how it presents something we care so much about, but putting those feelings in a public space paints the fandom in a bad light. It gives the impression that we'll jump the gun and claim something is bad before letting the product speak for itself. If you're a current Twst fan that is excited for the anime, it may not feel so good seeing others theorizing about how bad it will be. If you're a potential new Twst fan seeing this stuff, you'd feel very unwelcome or unwanted. I worry this will fester and create divides in the community... unintentionally creating an environment that isn't fun to be in, and that's the antithesis of what I think fandom should be. I guess I'll end on this note: There is a difference between being healthily skeptical and assuming the worst of a production. Please take a moment to reexamine your concerns about the anime and ask yourself "Is this a reasonable fear?", "What am I basing this off of?", and, "How, if at all, will this affect my own enjoyment of Twst?" If it gets to be too much for you, then please, please step away from social media (where a lot of these fears are being touted) and take a break. Do something you like, take a walk, whatever. I just beg of you, don't allow yourself to be consumed by feelings that will bleed the fun of fandom out of you 💦

[38sr]

same anon that asked about shadows ! , i have another question , how does different budgets for different animes change the way it is drawn , animated etc , like how does it go from average to ultra quality like demon slayer for example ..

Ah so with anime it’s a very nuanced topic. Firstly, I want to preface that what I am about to say is strictly from my experience working in anime for three years now and even then I would highly implore to study the Animator Dormitory Project to learn from animators who are PHYSICALLY dealing with the imbalanced system that is the anime industry. ALSO, it is important to clarify more money does not equal better art visually. More money means more time and resources. How you use said resources and time is what determines the quality of art (as well as the quality of work environment for the people making said product). If we were to follow the logic that more money equals better art, that would mean the average Family Guy episode should look like an average Demon Slayer episode. That is simply not the truth because 1) every production is different therefore their needs and overall artistic vision will differ 2) you’d be surprised on how the money is actually spent versus what you think it should be spent on (ie American animated films choosing to do celebrity voice casting which eats up a shit ton of the budget when that could have gone to the production crew’s schedule and needs). So with that, please understand money does not play in the ways you think it does (ie if it makes the drawings better) but it cannot be denied it’s one of many factors. Alright?

Basically, anime is funded through production committees which are a group of investors (such as manga publishers, merchandise manufacturers, tv broadcast executives, etc). In America, we have a similar system known as the AMPTP however unlike America where an investor can invest in cross industry projects (ie. Mattel can invest in toys and film entertainment) in Japan they can only choose one industry. This leaves budgets for anime to not become incredibly inflated like we have here in America (ie most blockbuster movies nowadays). BUT because of this rule along with the rule of budget caps, the actual budgets of full seasons of animes have not changed much since maybe the 1960/70s. To bring it back to Family Guy, the average episode of that show from script to final broadcast has been reported to cost anywhere between $1-2 million PER EPISODE. If you multiply that with the full episode order (let’s say 13 just to match the average season of anime), you’re working with $13-26 million FOR A SEASON.

Anime, specifically TV anime, is not seeing that. Shinkai’s Your Name was reported to have $4.5mil for actual movie production (not including the advertising budget which would make it 7.5 or roughly 8mil). $4.5mil. For an anime film.

$4.5 million is a good (and rare) budget by American TV animation standards for PER EPISODE. Unless you’re like, Disney or something you can afford to do that but most average American TV animation is anywhere between $1-3 million per episode. And the average anime is seeing that $1-3mil PER SEASON due to budget caps. So if we do the math of dividing that $1-3mil across 13 episodes (and I’m gonna do this evenly because this is a hypothetical and in reality some episodes do have more money put into for more TIME and RESOURCES)…that would mean your average anime episode, from script to final broadcast, is only seeing a couple hundred thousand dollars unlike here in American where we have a couple million.

And so at this point you’re probably thinking, “Wait, this doesn’t make sense. How can Your Name look like the way it is if that’s what America could spend on a single animated episode? Why is there such a wide disparity between the actual budget versus the final product’s visuals?” And that, my dear Shadow (sorry if that came off weird) is where we have to talk about communication. You see, even though Demon Slayer might not be seeing the same episode budget like we do in America what Japanese studios have in spades that American studios spent over 2 DECADES eradicating is in house layout and animation teams.

The reason why anime looks the way it is on such smaller budgets is quite honestly because they are communicating with each other in real time. In America, we ship our storyboards to a studio overseas (usually Korea, Philippines, India, etc) where we are basically playing a gambling game of whether or not the overseas studios produce the desired work we want. And spoiler alert: it hardly ever truly happens because of language barriers and these overseas are often not given enough money (remember that means time and resources) to actually succeed. Hence, you go into retakes which cost money and spend it back to overseas which cost money, and then it comes back and retakes are still needed which cost money yet again and I think you’re beginning to see why this system in American studios is awful.

Because the amount of money you spent doing that back and forth with retakes and shipping with an overseas studio who was not set up for success could have been spent on having an in house layout and animation team like they do in Japanese studios.

As someone who has freelanced on animes as well worked at vendor overseas studios for American made productions, I cannot understate how having that instant communication (as well as cultural understanding) can drastically change how things get animated. Being able to talk to your director about their intent for a scene at an instant is much more productive than waiting 6-8 months for a Russian roulette bullet. So my point is, the direct communication Japanese studios have within is the true unsung hero as to why 1) visually beautiful shows like Dandadan or Demon Slayer exist 2) they are able to have such a wide variety of visual styles under the anime umbrella because Japanese studios do value auteurship just a tad bit more than American studios who as of late is homogenizing our media cause it’s “safe”.

Also, another component that can factor into why anime looks the way it does despite smaller budgets is because Japan as a society heavily values reputation. On one hand, it’s cool that artists are willing to come together to bring the vision of an artist they admire to fruition. But on the other, it is often used to exploit these artists into very shitty work situations (ie me when I worked on JJK). It’s such a hard thing to talk about because as artists we do tend to sacrifice our well being for the sake of art but I could understand why someone on the outside might feel confused (or frustrated) that we would choose to put ourselves in a poor situation. Sometimes, you’re just willing to take a lesser pay and tighter deadlines to work on a project that speaks to you creatively. And it really do just be that. But for the case of anime, it is often because these artist want to work with a person they admire so who I am to judge them when I’ve done the same haha. But my point being, because Japanese studios have that in house communication and are more open to artist auteurship there’s just more room to have visually distinctive episodes, animated sequences, designs and so on despite the budgets not being the greatest (if we’re going by American standard of living because it is objectively true that Japan is not as costly as places like NY and LA).

I could go on and on about this but I think this answer has become way too long haha. But in summary, Japan isn’t seeing as big as budgets as you think you are from an American perspective. Anime budgets virtually have not changed that much for decades despite it being mainstream and incredibly profitable. I will add that studios like Kyoani and Ufotable have the advantage of potentially self funding their projects, which allows more creative power to the studio itself rather than having to comply to the production committee’s whims. But those studios are like….rare gems ‘cause they chose to nurture talent and be selective with their art over time as opposed to Mappa who is spreading the talent and production crew super thin by adapting too many shows. What makes the art in anime look that way is more so a result of passion and respect for the craft (as well as they’re just open to a lot more versus American execs who are risk-adverse). It would be great if they were given more money so they weren’t producing episodes on such tight schedules (usually a handful of months before official broadcast) but it’s really a testament of how they effectively allocate the money where it’s needed as well. It’s truly an amazing balancing act in a system that’s equally imbalanced.

Phew, that was a long one but I hope I answered your question. And with that, always remember kids that money does not equal better art. Money means more time and resources and how you use it is what determines the overall artistic vision of a production.

[yumeka-sxf]

Regarding scans and watermarks

Yesterday, a SxF clear file scan made by my friend @xxscarletxrosexx (who had allowed me to share the scan on my blog here) was reposted on Twitter with her watermark clearly removed. She wrote an insightful post about how, despite what many people think, it does take a good amount of work to obtain and scan rare collectibles like this. As someone who makes a lot of scans with watermarks, I want to offer my thoughts on the topic.

For those who have followed me since my blog started, you may have noticed that my watermarks have "evolved" over time. This was in response to, of course, my scans getting reposted without credit (my old watermarks were easy to crop/edit out). I know some people take issue with putting watermarks on official art because we technically didn't "create" it. But that doesn't mean time and effort wasn't put into making the scan. To me, it's similar to people who take photos of exclusive events or people who make gifs...while they didn't create the subjects of these things, they still created the presentation of it. For people who take and share exclusive photos, they spent time, effort, and money not just on going to that location and taking the photos, but posting them in a presentable way online for others to enjoy. For people who make gifs, it again takes a lot of time and effort to create, edit, and present the gifs in an attractive way on social media. In both these cases, while these people didn't draw, animate, design, etc, the subject of their photos or gifs, there was still self-imposed work and creative effort behind it, which I think deserves some recognition. It's the same with making scans...I didn't personally draw the images I scan (and I make this clear by including "scanned by..." in my watermarks) but I still made the presentation of it - the scan - which does take time and effort; I bought a Canon TS6300 scanner a while back particularly for this purpose, I often have to finagle with the books I scan to make sure they're properly flattened so the scans aren't blurry or crooked (have to redo them sometimes when this happens), and if little pieces of lint or other blemishes get in the scanner, I either have to scan them again or use photo editing software to fix them. And while I paid for all the books, posters, etc, I scan with my own money, sometimes just obtaining certain rare collectibles not only takes money, but a lot of dedication to obtain! The Twiyor chara fine graph I recently posted about is a perfect example of how much work can go into acquiring a rare item...and I have no obligation to scan the merch I get. I could just enjoy them on my own and only share quick, low-quality photos from my phone. But I like making scans because I know other people enjoy them 🙂 I also know that many people don't have the means or funds to get this kind of merch, so it's nice to let them have enjoyment from it second-hand through my scans! Sometimes I buy merch only or mostly for the purpose of making scans because I know that artwork isn't currently available in an official artbook or anywhere else.

Since I make so many scans, I just accept the fact that they will get reposted without any mention of me or my blog...which I don't mind that much since that's what the watermarks are for - they're to show people who see the scan where it came from, and if they choose to go to that site, they'll be able to find even more scans to enjoy! But if someone actually removes a watermark, it's like they so adamantly believe that the person who made the scan doesn't deserve any recognition for their time, effort, money, etc, put into it that they're going to spend their own time to remove any trace of that person from the scan...I mean, I can't say it's the most heinous act in the world, but it's disrespectful and just plain not nice. I try not to let it bother me, but it is hurtful to see someone else get recognition for something you put work into. But I just keep things in perspective and tell myself that at least I'm not an artist whose creations are getting posted all over the place without credit (I always cringe at all the uncredited fan art I see on Facebook groups and YouTube music compilations. It's so out of control 😔)

Anyway, I hope I've properly illustrated here that it does take a good amount of time and effort to make scans. I don't think I deserve as much recognition for it as an artist who actually draws the images they post, but I still think this kind of content sharing deserves some credit, even if it's just leaving a watermark intact.

[turbulentscrawl]

Identity(V) Headcanons: Andrew Kreiss

This one is not a request, just the next in line for my general HCs! As usual, if you like my stuff, feel free to shoot me a request.

-Andrew is a very hot-and-cold person. Mostly cold. …Like 85% cold. But it’s hard to blame him when life’s given him nothing to really have faith in. Once upon a time he still believed that good people existed, but his faith just waned and waned, and that’s long been relegated to fantasy. It’s incredibly difficult to breach his hardened emotional walls now.

-He made a conscious decision to not care about others’ wellbeing years ago so he’s largely indifferent to happenings that don’t involve himself. He’s not interested in looking out for or helping people, defending or comforting them. He does his share of good when he puts them in the ground, and that ought to be enough. And if he takes them out again later…well, if souls are real they’re surely long gone, right?

-Everyone knows he’s got a nasty mouth, right? Andrew was rarely spoken to kindly when he was growing up, and he learned to take those words and turn them back on people to keep them away. If he was always going to be accused of being cursed or demonic or whathaveyou, why should he bother with decorum? He cusses regularly and has called people every cruel name under the sun at some point. The worst of it is reserved for retaliation against people who start talking shit first.

-Andrew is not a weak man. He’s tall and athletic, and he’s adept with a heavy-duty shovel. That is to say, he’s more than capable of defending himself. He strongly prefers to avoid physical confrontation, but he has spent years throwing around bodies and I can assure you it really makes no difference to him whether they still draw breath.

-When he does get along with someone, the old habits die hard. Andrew spends a lot of conversation time still tripping over his own tongue, rephrasing harsh things he says out of instinct to try and be gentler, and then getting visibly angry with himself. (He is also not great at hiding his emotions.) He’s constantly afraid that he’s going to run off the good things he has and be back to square one.

-In an effort to…make up for? Cover up? those snaps he can’t hold back, Andrew sometimes rambles for long stretches. These don’t happen in front of groups, but during one-on-one time with his loved ones. He’ll get onto some topic he’s familiar with (or not, if he’s desperate enough) and just run his mouth off like he’s trying to lure you away from a trap with a treat. He’s not above shoving an actual apology treat at people either, if one is available.

-While not always the best at communicating his thoughts, Andrew is very philosophical under the surface. He’s had a lot of alone time to think over the years, and he’s analyzed every angle he could come up with to rationalize and understand his lot. He would really enjoy having a friend or partner who is up for those deep, 2-am conversations about the meaning of life and the universe. His own views lean towards the despondent, but he’d like to hear something more optimistic too.

-Even when close with someone, Andrew doesn’t initiate many conversations. Unlike some of the other introverts in the manor, this isn’t because he’d rather be left alone but because he secretly likes when they seek him out. You coming to him is a very simple reminder that his company is enjoyable and desired.

-The best Love Language for Andrew is probably Quality Time. He would like any of them if it came from someone he genuinely learned to love and trust, but Quality Time is what you’d need to reach that cherished place in his heart. Andrew acts prickly as a defense mechanism, and he needs someone who’s willing to endure his snappiness and show him they wouldn’t prefer to spend their time and energy on someone else.

-Andrew is the type to admire things silently. He gives compliments very sparingly, so when he does give them you know he really means it.

-He is plagued by back and shoulder pains. It’s mostly from his profession, standing hunched over for hours on end, and it’s affected even his resting posture now. He doesn’t just curl in on himself as an anxiety thing, he is sore. Can the Baron please invite a chiropractor next? A masseuse? …Yoga instructor?

-He’s mostly nocturnal at this point. (The manor���s scheduling has messed that up, though.) It’s not just sun-sensitivity, but that he usually worked after sundown when people wouldn’t be around the graveyard to see him.

-He loves a good homecooked meal! The best foods are the ones prepared by someone who loves you, so he’d choose a mediocre dish at home to the fanciest restaurants in the world.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Lucy comes home.

Word Count: 7,411

Warnings: Sexual content, trauma around finding a loved one attempting suicide, suicidal thoughts, codependency, insecurity, past suicide attempt, and references to pregnancy.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 19: Your Home is Here with Me

Lucy fought the urge to fiddle with her fingers or the edges of the bandages still wrapped around her wrists, watching Arrow House slowly draw in closer, the car bumping along the drive. Beside her, Tommy reached over and took one of her hands in his, thumb stroking over her knuckles.  

The car finally pulled up beside the front doors. Tommy stepped out first, a stabilizing hand held out to her as she climbed out after him. Her strength had steadily been returning over the days she’d spent in the hospital, but she was still a little unsteady on her feet sometimes. 

Frances was there to greet them at the doors and take their coats. She smiled kindly at Lucy, informing Tommy of the arrangements made for dinner before leaving them be. 

Lucy wrang her hands together, looking around the big entryway. Nothing seemed to have changed from the last time she had been there, but it all still felt oddly foreign. It was strange to be back. Especially after she had been so sure that she never would be. 

The house seemed even quieter than usual. Echoing with emptiness. Lizzie and the kids weren’t there, and the silence that their lack of presence wrought was deafening. 

That was, until the skidding sounds of approaching nails on the floor sounded, and then Shadow came bounding into view. He practically charged at her, tail wagging furiously, rubbing and bumping against her legs. 

“Hey, buddy,” she let out a breathless laugh, stroking his soft black fur. Shadow's tongue lolled from his mouth, half raising up onto his hind legs to try to lick her face.

Just as he was starting to calm, merely nuzzling at her palm, there was a soft meow, and Trouble came prancing into view, her little paws not making even the slightest sound as she jogged towards Lucy to rub against her legs with a loud purr.   

“Hey, babies.” Lucy bent to give them each scratches behind the ears. She was distantly aware of Tommy coming up behind her, reaching out a hand to the animals. Shadow let him stroke his big black head happily, but Trouble promptly stuck up her nose and dodged his attempts to pet her, trying to bat at him with one of her paws before he managed to pull his hand away in time. 

“She’s been cross with me since you left,” he explained with a soft huff of amusement. 

“Troubs, come here,” she coaxed the cat towards her. “Now that wasn’t very nice, was it? I told you that you were to take care of your daddy when I left.”

Trouble just looked up at her and meowed, tail flicking. Lucy rolled her eyes. Children. 

“Dinner will be ready in about an hour.” Tommy turned to fix his gaze on Lucy. “What do you want to do? We could just go up and rest, or we could take Shadow out, or play a game in the library–”

“Actually, I…” she paused, well aware that what she was about to say may very likely– and justifiably–not be taken all that well. “I’d like to wash the hospital smell off of me.”

Tommy went still, a bit of the color going out in his cheeks. 

“I promise that I’m not going to…” she trailed off, biting her lip. He had every right to be wary and jumpy when it came to that topic. But, she had to bathe sometime. “You can sit with me, if you’d like.”

He relaxed a little at the suggestion, but still eyed her nervously. “If you’re sure that’s alright…” She could see him at war with himself; wanting to respect her space but scared to leave her out of his sight for too long should he run the risk of losing her. 

“Yes, it’s alright.”

“Bath it is, then.” Taking her hand, he led the way to the stairs, Shadow trailing behind them. 

“Tommy, this isn’t the way to my room.” She pulled him to a stop when he turned right at the top of the stairs rather than left, jerking slightly where their hands were still joined. Tommy looked over his shoulder, lips pulling up a little at the corners. 

“It is now.”

“What…?”

“Come on,” he gave her a light, almost playful tug, pulling her back into movement down the hallway. They passed Lizzie, Charlie, and Ruby’s rooms and a few more doors before Tommy came to a stop at one near the end of the hall, fumbling with the knob. “Here,” he moved back, holding the door open to let her in first. 

The room was bigger than the one she’d previously been staying in, with larger windows and significantly more space between the furnishings. It didn’t seem so cramped and dark. All of her things had been moved into the room, even the portraits on the walls.   

“You should get more light during the day.” Tommy was standing by the door, fiddling with his cigarette case. “And you’ll be closer to everyone.”

She stepped deeper inside, examining the view out the window of the front drive.  

Tommy shifted from foot to foot, nervous. “If you don’t like it, we can move you to somewhere else…”

“I like it.” She looked back at him, and he smiled at her softly, gesturing with his head towards the door to his left. 

“Washroom is in there.”

While she went to investigate, she could hear him ushering Shadow and Trouble in before closing the door to the bedroom, encouraging them to lay down in their respective beds. Listening to him talk to the dog and cat made a semblance of a smile pull at her lips. 

Going to the bathtub, she twisted the knobs, testing the water with her fingers before putting the plug in place. Straightening, she watched the water slowly rise, a cold shiver going down her spine at the memory of the last time she’d done this.

“You alright?” Tommy asked from the doorway. 

“Yeah.” With shaky hands, she started to unbutton her shirt. 

She could feel his eyes burning into her as she undressed. Another shiver went down her spine, this time for completely different reasons. This was the first time that he’d seen her naked since she’d moved out. 

He pulled up a chair to sit beside the tub after she got in. Lucy let her eyes slide closed, head tipped back against the rim of the tub, arms dangling over the sides to keep her bandages from getting wet. Movements careful to avoid accidentally tugging on the red strands, Tommy set to work washing her hair for her. His stocky fingers felt nice against her scalp. Warm and big and gentle.  

It was nice to be looked after and doted on. And he had been right, when he said that she needed him. Much as she tried to hide it. 

I’m so fucking selfish. Here they were, in the midst of planning what was perhaps the most high stakes strategy in the gang’s history, and she was off monopolizing all his attention.

“Dip,” Tommy’s voice, soft and low, interrupted her thoughts. She did as instructed, dipping her head back into the water so he could rinse the soap from her hair. 

His declarations of love while in the hospital had begun to stitch the broken pieces of her heart back together. But the wounds that had left it broken in the first place were still raw. Still tender and healing. She expected that they would continue to ache for a while. 

“Tommy?” she asked once her head was lifted from the water.

“Hm?”

“Was moving me to a new room your idea?”

One side of his lips quirked up. “Actually it was Lizzie’s.”

She felt her brows crease at the revelation. A part of her felt horribly bad for agreeing to return to Arrow House before actually talking to Lizzie about it first. But Tommy had simply been too persuasive. She couldn’t say no to him anymore. Not when he was begging her to come home. And especially not after it became clear how much pain she’d caused him by leaving. 

She couldn’t keep hurting him like that. 

Overall, she was feeling much better than she had been. It was almost like a fog had lifted from her mind and she could finally think clearly again. But there were still a few hitches, here and there. A few things were still bothering her. 

“Are you in love with her?” The question burned on the way out, but it needed to be asked before they could move fully forward. She needed to know what she was stepping back into. 

Tommy froze. “No. I’m not.”

She felt awful for the little sigh of relief that left her at that.

He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her. He’d pushed up his shirt sleeves to his elbows to keep them from getting wet. Warm lips pressed to her neck. “I told you that I love you.”

“You can love more than one person at a time.” With a sigh, she pushed at the water in the tub, watching the way that it rippled. “I still can’t help but feel that if it weren’t for me–”

“I still wouldn’t fucking love her.” He wasn’t shouting, but his voice was firm. Definitive. “We’re not…good together, Lucy. You ought to know that better than anyone with how much you’ve seen of us together.” He blew out a deep breath. “It’s no one’s fault. Not hers. Not mine. And certainly not yours.” 

She was trying so hard to believe him. She was so fucking tired of feeling so guilty all the time. She just wanted to let it go. To let herself be happy. Didn’t she deserve that, after all the pain that she’d been through? 

As if reading her mind, Tommy turned her face to look at him. Concern shown brightly in his eyes. “You have to stop punishing yourself, love.”

A little sob left her throat. “I don’t think that I know how.”

His face softened. “I’ll help you. Eh? Just talk to me. Tell me where you’re feeling guilty. Let me help you carry it.”

“I can’t ask that of you–” He already carried so much guilt inside him. She could not possibly ask that he shoulder hers as well. 

“I can take it. We help each other, remember? That’s what we do. So let me help you, sweetheart.” 

She sniffled, chest spasming, reaching up to cradle the back of his head, bringing his forehead to rest on hers. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking, love.” His hand stroked through her damp hair. “But…you know, if it really is too much to take, I can still divorce her…”

Lucy sighed. “And take a hatchet to your reputation in the process? No, Tommy. She’s too important.”

“So are you.”

“She’s the mother of your children. For that alone, she will always be more important than I am.”

“But I love you.” His expression was baffled. “I love you. Not her. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Of course it does. I just…” she slammed her eyes shut, realizing that she was teetering dangerously close to spiraling again. “I just don’t want you to throw away everything else in your life for me.”

“I know. And thank you for that, love. Really. But understand that if I have to choose…” he sighed. “She doesn’t have a chance.” He smoothed some of her hair back. “I can’t be happy without you. She’s not more important than you. She never will be.”

Taking hold of his hand, she raised it to her lips, pressing kisses to each of his fingertips. When she was done, he stroked the back of his knuckles across her cheek. 

“I need to talk to her.”

He frowned, protectiveness flaring up in his eyes.

“If I am going to come back to live here, I need to know that she really is okay with it.”

“She told me to bring you home.”

“I know. But…you know what she can be like.”

“Yeah.” He wiped a hand down his face. “I really do think that she’s started to accept things, love. For real, this time.”

“We can only hope, eh?”

“And I’m not putting up with anymore of the shit with her taking swipes at you, or being cruel towards you, or trying to make deals that fuck you over. I’ve been too lenient on her about it.” He shot her a look of regret. “I’m sorry.”

Lucy frowned. “You’ve never failed to tell her off when she’s been unpleasant towards me. What else can you do? Put her in a timeout?”

“Maybe. If she insists on continuing to act like a child.” The look in his eyes had turned stubborn. The kind of stubborn that meant it would be more likely to get the earth to start spinning in the opposite direction than to get him to change his mind. “I’m not letting her get away with that shit anymore.”

Lucy reached out to touch his face, tilting her head up to brush their lips together. “Thank you for protecting me.”

“Always.” He turned his head to give her neck a little kiss. “Come on, let’s get you out of there before you start to prune.”

He let her hold onto him for stability as she stepped out of the tub, then immediately helped towel her off and swaddled her in a big, comfy robe, looking her up and down to make sure she was warm and comfortable. While he tended to draining the tub and putting the soaps away, she went to get dressed. 

Dinner was a quiet, simple affair. They sat at the dining table, eating the steak, potatoes, and vegetables that the chef served them. 

Tommy told her about a new horse he was thinking of offering a home to at the mansion’s stables. The poor thing was a racehorse who had suffered an injury on the track and had to be retired early. A white, sweet, even-tempered if shy stallion, intelligent enough to have caused his previous owner some trouble here and there. 

Lucy thought it was an absolutely splendid idea. 

“Are you sure that you’re feeling okay?” he asked, while they were out taking Shadow and Cyril for a brief walk around the grounds before they turned in for the night. Lucy wasn’t all that surprised at the question. She’d probably spooked him a little with all her talk whilst in the bath. 

“It…all feels really…raw, still. But…” she worried at her lower lip. “I think so.”

His arm had found its way back around her at some point while they walked, palm rubbing soothingly up and down her bicep. The warmth from his touch made her feel comfy and drowsy. 

“Let’s go to bed,” Tommy said softly in her ear when he noticed her yawning.

They went inside and took the dogs off their leads. Cyril lumbered away, probably to go sleep in Charlie’s room. Shadow followed them to theirs. 

Tucked into one corner of the room, where she hadn’t noticed them before, were her suitcases filled with her things from Charlie’s. 

“Lizzie picked them up when she went by to get Shadow,” Tommy explained at her quizzical look. 

She pulled one up onto the bed, opened it, and immediately felt her face turn approximately the same shade as her hair. Tommy looked down into her suitcase, brows furrowing, and then his face broke into a delighted, smug grin. 

“Ah. So that’s where all of my Henley’s went.”

Shit. She’d forgotten about them. 

“They…they’re soft,” she defended. “And…” Tommy raised an eyebrow. She fumbled with her rings, suddenly bashful, voice quiet. “They smell like you.”

After a few wears of the first henley she’d nabbed when she left Arrow House, the scent of him started to fade away. So she’d snagged another while they were staying at the London apartment one night. And then another. And another. She always meant to start switching them out, but she kept forgetting them at the yard. 

She looked at the little mountain of white shirts sitting in her suitcase, shifting from foot to foot and feeling her embarrassment burn from her ears all the way down to her toes. 

“It’s pathetic, I know–”

“I sprayed your perfume around our room every night and on your pillow after the scent in the sheets started to fade.”

She felt her lips twitch upwards at the revelation. It was oddly sweet; to know that he’d missed her that much.

Neither of them spoke as they got changed. Though she did aim a light swat at him when he snickered as she slipped into one of the several henley’s she’d stolen. When she turned around after depositing her clothes into the hamper, it was to find Tommy shirtless, unbuckling his belt with one hand while running the other through his hair. She felt her throat go instantly dry, a little pulse starting to ache in her core. His muscles flexed as he pushed down his trousers to leave him in just his white underwear. 

She quickly looked away. Before he could catch her staring. 

She was far too tired and emotionally drained for sex. But still…

She’d fucking missed him. 

The doctors had ordered her to take it easy, at least until the stitches came out. Taking into account how long it had been, she was pretty sure that once she and Tommy started fucking again, they weren’t going to be stopping for a good long while. 

They’d have to restrain themselves. Just for a little while longer. Maybe a week or two. 

Crawling into bed, she hummed contentedly at the soft mattress, snuggling down into the pillows. A moment later, Tommy sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. Still in just his underwear and nothing else. Because apparently he liked to test her self control. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, large hand resting on her thigh over the blankets, gaze darting to the space next to her on the bed. 

Lucy nodded, wrapping her hand around his wrist and giving him a little tug. “Yes.” 

He sank in beside her eagerly, immediately hooking an arm around her waist and pulling her to lay her head on his chest. She tangled her legs with his without even thinking, simply running on instinct as she settled into him, letting him snuggle against her. 

“Fuck, I missed this,” Tommy whispered, face pressing into her hair and inhaling deeply. The smattering of hair on his chest tickled her cheek, and she caught herself breathing in his exquisite scent of cologne, smoke, and pine.

“Mm,” she hummed unconsciously in agreement, letting herself get lost in the feeling of being held by him. 

She had almost forgotten how good it felt to be squished against his firm muscle. How safe. It had been so long since they last laid beside each other in bed. The warmth from his torso seeped into her, the steady stroke of his fingers at the nape of her neck helping to lull her. 

“Tommy?”

“Yeah, baby?”

She swallowed. Just two more things. There were just two more things that she needed to ask him. And then she could rest. 

“Tell me you weren’t choosing her over me that night you made that deal with her.”

She felt the muscles in his chest go stiff. And then he was using a finger to tilt her head up to meet his gaze. In the dark, his blue eyes were even more piercing. 

“Of course not. I can see why you’d think that. But I swear, that wasn’t what it was. I was just being drunk and stupid.”

She nodded, but he must have sensed that he had not wholly convinced her, because he persisted. 

“I’d never put her before you. I don’t care if that makes me an awful person or not. You’re my priority. Always.”

“You said you were going to kill Mosley for her.”

His brows pulled in. “I what?”

She nodded. “The day that the opium shipment came into the yard. You told Arthur that you had other strategies in mind for dealing with Mosley. But he’d spoken badly to Lizzie, and that was why you had decided to kill him.”

Tommy was quiet for a moment, processing. “I did say that, didn’t I?” He cleared his throat. “Right. Listen. There’s something that I didn’t tell you. Because we weren’t really talking much after it happened, and I didn’t want to worry you or push you away anymore than I already had.”

A foreboding chill washed over her. “What is it?”

“Mosley threatened to kill you.”

She stared at him, mouth slightly open. “He what?”

Tommy nodded. “He said I was to sack you or marry you off to someone else, or he would have you killed. That was why. I didn’t…I wasn’t going to tell Arthur that. I wasn’t going to tell anyone.”

“Oh.”

“He was rude to Lizzie. And I’m annoyed about that. But I didn’t decide to kill him until after he threatened you.”

She nodded slowly. “I have to tell you something.” He was being open and honest with her, and it felt only right that she do the same. “But you have to promise not to completely fly off the handle.”

Tommy’s brow rose. She looked at him expectantly and he huffed. “Alright. I promise. What is it?”

“During Lizzie’s birthday party, I escorted Mosley to your office. I told you that he just touched my hair and made a lewd remark?”

“I remember.”

“That wasn’t…all that happened. He, erm. He grabbed my breast.”

Tommy was silent for a long time, just staring at her. “What.” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement. Lucy could hear thunder brewing in his voice. 

“Yeah. He…he touched my hair, and then he grabbed my right breast. I had bruises from his fingers the next day.”

Both of Tommy’s hands flew up to touch her face, stroking her hair out of the way. Fury was still apparent across his features. But she could see horror there as well. 

“You should have told me,” he said quietly.

“I know. You’re right. I should have.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“He didn’t do anything else?”

“No. He suggested that we could…you know…” she felt Tommy’s grip on her tighten a little. “But I told him no and got out of there right after he grabbed me.”

Tommy’s lips smacked together. She could see him thinking hard behind his big blue orbs. She poked him in the chest. 

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m trying to figure out if it’s too late to change our plans for him to something more…bloody.”

“You promised you wouldn’t fly off the handle!”

“Oh, believe me, love, that is tame for what I really want to do to him.”

She huffed out a laugh equal parts fond and exasperated, dropping her head to press a kiss to the center of his chest. Wrapping both arms around him, she snuggled back into his body. Tommy petted and kissed her head. 

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

“I’m sure.”

He pulled her closer, grip tightening protectively. “I won’t let him hurt you,” he growled. “He will never touch you again.”

Lucy stroked her fingertips across his ribs. “Thank you.” She nestled down into him. He was so warm. Like her own personal little furnace.  

“Go to sleep, sweetheart,” he said softly, kissing her hairline and wrapping himself a little tighter around her. Exhaustion was rushing up to meet her, leaving her with little energy to do more than nod and let her eyes flutter closed, drifting off with his warm touch all around her.  

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy stirred, letting out a soft groan as wakefulness snuck upon him sluggishly. His body felt heavy and relaxed, comfortable against the mattress and warm under the blankets. Eyes cracking open to stare at the canopy, he grunted at the realization that it was still the middle of the night; no sunlight yet filtering in through the curtains. He turned, stretching as he did, burying his face half into the pillow, fully intending to fall back to sleep. Arm shifting, he reached out across the mattress. 

The space next to him was empty. 

Immediately his eyes snapped open, sitting bolt upright, all residual drowsiness leaving him in seconds. 

Further investigation only further confirmed that Lucy was not in the bed with him, nor anywhere else in the room. His gaze darted around frantically, squinting through the darkness at the armchair and the windowsill to see if she was seated at either. Nothing. 

The door to the washroom was closed. 

Panic flooded over him in a massive tidal wave, sucking him in and out to sea with nothing to keep himself afloat. His heart leapt into his throat, breaths hitching, dread spreading through his veins.

No, no, no, no, no, not again, Lucy!

He scrambled out of the bed, almost falling over himself when his legs got tangled in the sheets. Imaginings of opening the door to find her laid out in the bathtub again danced across his mind. Her blood overflowing the white porcelain to drip out onto the floor, her head lolled back, hair as crimson as her blood hanging down, her eyes closed, never to open again because this time he was too late and now he’d lost her forever. 

He practically hurled himself at the door, hand just closing around the knob when it opened and he nearly crashed into her. 

“Lucy–” he choked out, throat too constricted with panic to manage anything more. 

She looked up at him with wide eyes, blinking hugely. 

For a moment, all they could do was stare at each other. 

“I, erm,” Lucy spoke first, “I had to use the loo.”

Tommy blinked slowly, processing, realizing that he could still hear the sounds of the toilet running in the washroom behind her.  “Oh.” A relieved breath left his lungs, some of the panic draining from him. 

She looked at him guiltily. “‘M sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”

She kept looking at him like that, ever since she woke up in the hospital. Like she felt truly horrendous for what she’d done. The expression made his heart twist. As if she had anything to actually be sorry for when it was his boneheadness that threw them into this whole mess in the first place.  

“It’s okay. I just…I woke up and you weren’t there.” He must have been even more tired than he originally thought for her to be able to sneak out of bed without him noticing. Normally he slept so lightly that even the smallest of noises or twitches from her was enough to have him springing awake.

“I’m sorry,” Lucy said again, wrapping her arms around herself. Tommy shook his head, reaching out to her, grateful when she let him pull her into his arms. Touching her helped to soothe his still pricked nerves. 

“Don’t apologize,” he said, pressing his lips to the bare skin of her shoulder. “Let’s go back to bed.”

She let him guide her back over to the mattress, laying down and settling her head in its spot on his chest. Tommy could have cried at the feeling of her nestled safely back in his arms. It felt so right having her there. As if the missing piece of his heart had been returned to its right place. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you…” The last thing he wanted was for her to think that he didn’t have faith in her. He just worried, that was all. 

“I know.”

“C’mere,” he said, even though she was already pressed so close to him that he could feel her heart beating against her ribs. One of her arms slipped around his waist as he drew her tighter against him, burying her face in between his pecs while he stroked her hair. “Comfortable?”

She nodded wordlessly, and he had to suppress a smile to himself. She was far too cute for her own good. 

He was half tempted to roll her over onto her back, slot his hips between her thighs, and…

No, no. She needed to rest. 

There would be plenty of time for love making later. 

He watched over her as she drifted off, growing heavier in his arms until her body fully relaxed.

His gaze shifted to the white bandages still wrapped around her wrists, and the guilt he had momentarily forgotten boiled back up. 

She seemed to be doing okay. And at least she was talking to him again. Giving him chances to explain where she had misinterpreted him. So long as she kept coming to him with her insecurities, he could help her. He could set them straight.

But were most of her insecurities not a result of his fuckups? If he hadn’t gotten Lizzie pregnant, if he hadn’t married her, then none of this would have happened. Lucy wouldn’t be so depressed and doubting her self worth at every turn. If he’d been a good lover to her, she never would have fallen into such a dark pit of despair. 

There had once been a time when he had vowed that, despite knowing he could never deserve her, that he would try to. He would always love her, and treat her well, and cherish her as long as he had her. 

How badly he had fucked that all up. 

She would be so much better off without him. They all would. Maybe, she’d even stand a chance at being happy. 

At the end of the day, that was all he ever wanted for his Lucy. For her to be happy. 

He’d hurt her. Deeply. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t intentional. He’d broken her heart. That was something he would never, ever, be able to forgive himself for. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

He knew that he was hovering, but he didn’t really care. When Lucy was out of his sight, even for a few minutes, he found himself growing anxious, memories of finding her in the bathtub, of the weight of her limp, almost-dead body in his arms, dancing through his mind. So he stuck to her like glue, keeping near her as often as he could. 

She didn’t seem to really mind, thankfully. If anything he suspected that she was secretly enjoying the attention. Considering how lacking of it she had been until recently, he supposed that it shouldn’t be all that surprising. 

He flinched with guilt at the reminder of how shitty of a lover he’d been to her.

After Lizzie returned home with the kids, he’d been on his guard, but as promised Lizzie had remained on her best behavior, giving them space and allowing ample time for Charlie and Ruby to spend with Lucy. 

Both kids were ecstatic to have her back home. It was good to see, especially considering he knew that Lucy often fretted over what they thought of her. He hoped their reaction to having her back would put at least some of those worries to bed. They loved her. She was their other mom. 

“Tommy?”

“Hm?” He was lounging on a couch in the drawing room, reading the newspaper and sipping a glass of whiskey while Lucy dozed with her head in his lap. He looked up at Lizzie where she stood in the doorway with a raised eyebrow. 

“There’s a gentleman named Mr. Harken here to see you.”

He frowned, then felt his features smooth into dismay and exasperation when he remembered. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I’m supposed to have a meeting with him about the foundation today.”

“You didn’t reschedule it?”

“I forgot.”

Lizzie rang her hands together. “I can send him away, if you’d like…”

He pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his face. It had been an ordeal to get on Harken’s schedule at all. If he canceled, he would have to wait months before seeing him again. If he managed to even get another meeting with him. Harken was known for being fickle, and rudely canceling an appointment when he’d already driven out all this way was unlikely to endear him towards Tommy. 

He looked down at Lucy still slumbering in his lap. The thought of leaving her alone for a prolonged period of time made his throat close up. 

“I can stay with her.” Lizzie took a cautious step into the room. Tommy shot her a wary, suspicious look, and she held up her hands. “I promise I’ll be nice.”

He looked her up and down, weighing his options in his head, then glanced back at Lucy. Shadow was laying on the floor by their feet, and Trouble was curled up against her side.

“I won’t be long,” he said, both a promise and a warning. Lizzie nodded, going to sit in one of the armchairs across from the couch.

“We’ll be here.”

He eyed her for one final moment before carefully maneuvering Lucy’s head from his lap without waking her, resting a cushion under her cheek instead. She stirred only slightly when he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. Shadow lifted his head as Tommy stepped around him, and he gave the dog a scratch behind the ear while he passed. 

You keep an eye on her for me, eh, boy?

The dog’s tail thumped against the rug, and Tommy half wondered if he really was able to read his mind. 

With each step further away from Lucy, his anxiousness grew, fingers slipping into his pocket to procure his cigarette case as he stepped out the door.

He’d make this quick as he could. She might not even be awake by the time he got back. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

When Lucy opened her eyes, the first thing she noted was that she was considerably less comfortable and warm than when she’d fallen asleep. Instead of resting on Tommy’s thighs, her head was tucked on top of a pillow, laying on her side on the couch with a blanket laid over her and Trouble curled up against her stomach, purring.   

The second thing was that Lizzie was sitting in the armchair across from her. 

Wincing at some stiff pain in her shoulders–she really ought to know better than to try to nap anywhere that wasn’t her bed–Lucy sat up, rolling her neck to try to encourage her muscles to loosen. Trouble meowed at the movement, standing, stretching, and promptly settling herself into her lap. She gave the cat a few scratches under the chin, noting the way that Trouble eyed Lizzie suspiciously, the tip of her tail flicking back and forth. 

My own little protector, she thought fondly. 

“Did you sleep alright?” Lizzie asked, setting aside the magazine she’d been reading. Lucy shrugged noncommittally. 

“Where’s Tommy?”

“He had a meeting that he forgot to cancel. Something about the foundation with a man named Mr. Harken. He’ll be back soon.”

“Oh.”

She focused her attention on the cat in her lap, stroking her soft fur to try to help calm the nerves that sprang up at being alone with Lizzie. She could feel the other woman watching her, shifting back and forth in her chair. Awkwardness permeated throughout the room. 

“I’m sorry that I’ve been such a shit to you.” That had Lucy’s eyes finally darting up to meet Lizzie’s, widened at the sudden, wholly unexpected apology. Lizzie had a cigarette clutched between her fingers, digits shifting against it anxiously. “I think that I just…got lost.”

Lucy’s lips parted, face pinching with confusion. “You don’t have to apologize…”

“Yes. I do.”

She shook her head. “I’m the one who’s been a selfish cunt. I should have left the moment he told me you were pregnant. You all could have been happy…”

Lizzie cast her a bewildered, sad look. “No, love, I don’t think we could have.”

“I can pack a bag. I can be gone before he even gets out of that meeting. Neither of you will ever see me again,” she offered, borderline frantic. Anything. Anything to alleviate the guilt that she felt for what she’d put Lizzie through. 

“Lucy…don’t you understand? He’s been distraught since you left. I think…I think he’ll die without you.”

Lucy sniffled, wiping at her nose with the back of her sleeve. “I’m offering you what you’ve always wanted, Lizzie. Just take it.” Put us both out of our misery.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“No?”

“No. Maybe at one time, but…all it took was a few hours after you moved out for me to realize what a mistake it was. When I put those rules in place, I didn’t realize they would drive you out. I just thought you and him would spend more time at the apartment in London or the Midland. You two are hardly here much anyway.” Standing from the chair, she approached Lucy, moving to kneel on the floor in front of her so they were at eye level. Trouble made a noise that wasn’t quite a hiss, but was close. Lucy settled a hand on the top of her head, both to try to calm the cat and to quiet her own anxiousness. Lizzie took Lucy’s other hand. “I’ve missed you. The kids have missed you. Tommy’s an absolute nightmare to be around without you…don’t go. Don’t leave us again.”

Her breaths trembled in her lungs, tears building up against her lash line. “I feel like such a piece of shit all of the time, Lizzie. I feel like…like I stole him from you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Don’t act like you’ve never thought that.”

“Of course I have. Doesn’t mean it’s true.” Lizzie looked down. “He told me after the ballet that he’s not in love with me.” She let out a soft, bitter laugh and closed her eyes tight, letting out a hard, trembling breath. “And I suppose a part of me is still bitter. And angry. About all of it. And I think that part of me always will be. But…” she opened her eyes, and Lucy could see the resolution and resignation in them. “I think that it was what I needed to hear. Ever since that night, I haven’t felt like I’m…waiting around. Hoping for something that I may never get. I can move on now. I don’t intend to leave,” she clarified swiftly, “but I can just…focus on the children. On the house. And Tommy’s only…there. More a…friend or companion than a husband or lover,” she shrugged. “I figured that, after everything that’s happened, everything I’ve done for him, if he was going to fall in love with me, it would have happened by now.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy whispered miserably. Lizzie shook her head, smile sad, but also tranquil. 

“Don’t be. I have this,” a tilt of her head indicated the house. “I have my kids.” Her hand tightened around Lucy’s. “But he needs you, Lucy. So, you and I have to find a way to deal with each other. I’m tired of all the resentment between us. All of the bitterness. It’s very unprogressive.”

Lucy couldn’t contain her snort, eyebrow raising. “Are you really suggesting that we make a pact to get along in the name of feminism?”

Lizzie’s lips pressed together into a small smile. “More in the name of our shared sanity, really.” She looked down at their clasped hands. “We were friends once, weren’t we?” she asked in a softer voice. 

“I’d like to think so.”

“I miss that,” she looked out the window. Lucy tightened her fingers against hers.

“Me too.”   

 “I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through recently. It really wasn’t my intention to make either of you so unhappy. I can’t promise that I won’t get jealous. Or bitter sometimes. But I will do my best not to make it your problem anymore.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry too. Really.”

Lizzie swiped a finger across her knuckles. “Thank you.” Gingerly, her hand reached up to brush across the bandages still covering Lucy’s wrists. Trouble made a sharp hiss, half rising from her spot in Lucy’s lap. 

“You, hush,” Lucy chastised her, urging her to lay back down. “Be nice.”

Trouble looked at her with eyes that were extremely unimpressed, but laid her head back down against her thigh, little sides expanding with an overly dramatic sigh. Lizzie snorted, retracting her hand and tapping her cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table beside her. “He loves you so much.” There was a glimmer of sorrow and longing in Lizzie’s eyes that made the guilt in Lucy’s chest twist. “Don’t take it for granted.” 

Dropping her eyes, she absentmindedly gave Trouble’s belly a few scratches when the cat rolled over for her. “I won’t.”

Unfolding herself from her position on the floor, Lizzie eased herself back into the armchair she’d been occupying previously. Placing her cigarette between her lips, she reached for the deck of cards resting on the table. 

“Do you want to play?” Lizzie asked, already starting to shuffle.

It had been a good while since she’d played cards with anyone. Something that used to be a regular occurrence. So many long nights in the Garrison had been passed by playing hand after hand with Tommy and his brothers, downing whiskeys and laughing around cigarettes. 

“Sure.”

Lizzie’s lips pulled into a smile, and she started dealing out the cards. 

They’d just finished up their first hand when Charlie and Ruby came wandering in, done with their lessons for the day. Cyril was right behind them, lumbering over to lay down next to Shadow. Ruby sat down on the floor beside the two dogs, while Charlie climbed onto the couch next to Lucy, crowding into her side. Lizzie dealt them in, and by the time Tommy returned after the next hand, they had a rather lively game going.

He stood there, watching them play with his hands stuffed into his pockets, smile tugging on the edges of his lips, eyes shining with fondness when Lucy’s gaze lifted to meet his. The expression on his face only softened further when their eyes met.

“Dad, are you gonna come play?” Charlie asked. With a chuckle, Tommy came over to sit on Lucy’s other side on the couch, taking his hand of cards from Lizzie. 

“Did everything go alright?” Lucy asked him in a quiet voice. He cast her a fond look, plucking his cigarette from his lips while his gaze shifted from her to examine the cards in his hand.

“Everything went fine.” He spoke lightly, nothing but ease in his eyes. Satisfied, she returned her attention back to playing her cards. Sometime during the game, his arm found its way around her shoulders. 

∗ ∗ ∗

“You don’t have to come. Not if you don’t feel up to it,” Tommy told her later, when they were lying in bed with her head on his chest and his arms around her, the dark and quiet surrounding them. 

“I can handle it. I’m mostly healed now, anyway.”

He was quiet for a stretch of time and she frowned, head shifting so she could squint up at him in the darkness. 

“Do you not want me to come?”

“It’s not that. It’s just…” he sighed, head tipping heavily against the pillows. “It’ll be dangerous.”

“So is nearly everything else that we do.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Mm,” she acknowledged with a hum. “I want to be there.” If something happened to him, and she wasn’t there, she would never forgive herself. And she would go insane sitting around, listening to the radio and waiting to hear if the assassination had been successful or not.

His arm adjusted around her, thumb stroking over her shoulder. “Alright. Just…do something for me, then?”

“What?”

“Stay close to me.”

She tilted her head. Under other circumstances she might have teased him for his overprotectiveness. But he was right when he said that this wasn’t like other circumstances. There was an awful lot that could go wrong. “Okay.”

He hummed, kissing the top of her head. “Thank you.”

His fingers stroked delicately against the scarred skin of her back. He pressed a few kisses to her neck, then settled there, body relaxing with a contented sound against her. 

“Love you, honey,” he mumbled sleepily.

She turned her head to kiss the hollow of his throat. “Love you too, Tommy.”

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[twojamie-o-clock]

The War Games colorized reaction & stuff

Okay so. I don’t really know how to talk about this, because of course I love it since it was my favorite story, heartbreaking, and shiny & colorized. and of course people are always going to be mad about things lol, so approaching this as “a neat way to see an old story” but not really gonna treat it as tv canon (using the word canon in doctor who is stupid but you know). and more of some different way to look at it.

Starting off with the color: GREAT!! STUNNING!! GORGEOUS!! I’m in love. I’ve seen some people say it was better done than The Daleks colorization, which I have not fully seen, but from the snatches I caught at Chicago TARDIS & the commentary I definitely appreciated this more after hearing Ayres/Highman talk about the difficulty of it all & all the little things you wouldn’t think stump them up so much. I loved to see Jennifer & Jeremy in color wahhh <3 and of course the main trio were so fun. The choices for the Time Lord outfits were,,,,,, interesting to say the least but still fun. Actually seeing Jamie & Zoe’s reactions in color to all of it hurt so much more than I was ready for, but of course there’s a certain charm & weight to the b&w haha. Seeing the clips of other adventures (particularly power of the Daleks & the abominable snowmen) made me AHHHHH!!!!! The two seconds of Polly/Ben were yum and of course Victoria running with Jamie <33333333

The other big topic would be the pacing of course. While I didn’t mind it at the start, around the time Zoe/Two got into the SIDRAT & then Jamie came along it definitely felt a bit snappy. I didn’t mind this at first since it’s obviously necessary for such a huge time crunch, but seeing how much time was spent on other shots it felt like more could have been dedicated to all the human on human interaction since that’s where Jamie’s character (his development from his entrance and all the parallels hshshsj) and Zoe (everything she does tbh & her relationships with Jamie/Two. Screamed when Two kissed her I’ll never get over it but a part of me will always wish we got the German trench scene,,,,,,,) really develop, though again I still really enjoyed it.

The music was very sweet towards the end of Jamie/Zoe and I do like when it was put in there, but elsewhere it felt pretty loud and crowding. I DID like how they tried to maintain the general apprehension you feel by changing from the suspense/slow build up route to dramatic music since it felt like a neat way to adapt to/around the time crunch, since cliffhangers couldn’t really have an effect when 4 hours is pressed into 1.5.

As for the new additions & fancy stuff: the only thing I really REALLY didn’t care for were all the shots of Gallifrey & the War Lord building. It felt cheap and unnecessary to constantly throw the latter in & the former really only needed one establishing shot imo; those seconds could have been used on other things hshdjsk like smoothing out transitions idk. As for the future faces - they were an enjoyable nod & better than the drawings I think but bring on an interesting question of if the faces a Time Lord will regenerate into are set in stone. The idea that their faces are already decided………idk if I vibe with that & that’s just delving into personal headcanon/belief.

I like the idea that their faces could be in flux & that it’s entirely dependent on who they meet & what they need, like the modern who (and classic? I haven’t gotten far enough haha) imprint theories of being affected by surroundings as well as the general idea that the future regenerations reflect what the past ones need to work on/what they fear/in general are influenced to change past experiences. So. If all those experiences are predetermined then ig it makes sense but then it’s all messy fate v flux so. Idk. I didn’t mind it since it was nice but it adds some. Ideas for sure haha.

Okay. The War Chief. Yeah. I won’t lie on my first watch around (Oct 12-13) I did entertain the general theory/joke/thoschei wtv that the war chief could be the master just based on his vibes & general interactions with the Doctor & grand speeches & motives & whatnot. But it was much more fun as a theory. I do think it’s a neat idea but I also 100% get the frustration of the clunky attempt to canonize it, both because I don’t really want….him to be the Master (i haven’t consumed enough eu media to understand the angle most fans I’ve seen are complaining about this on, but I do know it would be NICE to have a villain who doesn’t have to be the Master. Because it makes him more interesting and the idea that the doctor is generally known already as this type of character is amazing, as well as the idea that..:/the dr just has weird tension with rogue time lords across the board. He doesn’t have to be the master to have this weird relationship.) and cuz using the master’s various themes here or there is fine but DAMNNN CHILL WE AREN’T MISSING THE MUSIC…..😭🙏🙏🙏 but I’m not gonna try to go too deep into that because I don’t think I’m capable of it & because there would be a mob of fans ready to gut me if I spoke wrong kgkshdk.

I was NOT prepared for the Jamie/Zoe departure to happen so abruptly. I was hoping for more build up of it all but again it seems the focus was less on the companions & humans in general and more on Two/gallifreyans.

TUMBLR JUST DELETED MY PARAGRAPH ON THE REGENERATION SCENE…..I’m not retyping all that fml. Basically I was worried I’d be bothered by it ONLY because it would negate s6b & I don’t want to see Two regenerate, period, since the mystery of s6b ending is all the fun, but there was a gap between the trial & the chair so I don’t much mind, not to mention that again this is merely a different look at the original war games so idk why people are getting so mad haha. l did not mind the nuwho esque regen either & I loved the Pertwee bit, but of course. It’s always better to not see Two lol. Gorgeous and amazingly well done tho!!!!

Overall: loves the construction of everything, sometimes the music was too loud/I didn’t care for the weird war lord HQ shots/gallifrey shown 4.5 billion times, but in general it was fun & sad & great. I did in fact cry again, seeing the departure in color was heart breaking & owwwwww. That’s all for now I’ll probably rb if I have other thoughts or change my mind haha

[alpydk]

I had another one of the worst visits to the doctor today 😑

For one second I really had in my head "Where is Chase?" 😭

I was on the verge of making a House like fuss 😆😣

To my ask:

Do you have fluffy Chase headcanons in mind, where he is treating a patient good and comforting?

(Yeah I know who am I asking 😆🤣😋 But with Dr. Puppy eyes there has to be some comfort about him😁Just imagine I am a penitent nun, than he is extra nice 🤭😉 Sorry Daddy, punish me for I have sinned 😏 Wrong topic! Wrong topic! 😆🙈

But I am also always up for some angst...like having things in my head of Wilson seeing Amber in his final moments, greeting him, waiting for him...yeah...)

I'm sorry you had a rough appointment. I hope this brings you the smiles it brought me. I'm not the best at a headcanon, but I can do a short comfort fic 🫂 - My one thing is, Chase totally gets his hair back post divorce/s8. He still however pines from time to time.

Chase x You - Pure Fluff (like fucking candyfloss)

You’ve sat for some time in that small clinic room, your eyes strained from the florescent lighting, your head pounding from the many complaints outside the door. You knew the place would be busy, but you didn’t know to what extent when you sat down to see someone.

Now you waited for the doctor to come, the paper on the bed riding up under your jeans, your legs hanging off the edge as if you were some child. Doctors were never who you wanted to see, especially when they were like the last few. In their fifties, men whose education came from other men in their fifties. No understanding of what it was like to actually have struggles in either life or health. You sigh, expectantly.

The door is pushed open; you sit up straight ready to have your concerns ignored when he enters. Nowhere near the age you figured. Early thirties, you suspect, blonde, very good looking. Now your tension has become a furious blush in your cheeks as you explain your symptoms.

Robert Chase pulls up a chair and nestles himself in between your legs, placing warm hands under your chin and lifting your head slightly. He’s gentle, his hands soft. You notice he has no aftershave on, but the subtle aroma of saltwater drifts from his hair. His shampoo, or maybe a long-forgotten hobby, soaked into his pores? You don’t dare to ask, but the question doesn’t linger for long as you catch his gaze and realise the answer. The deep blue of his eyes glance into yours, endless seas you would happily swim out into. He gives the faintest smile, his hands brushing the skin of your neck as he pulls away. You suddenly feel cold.

He writes you a prescription, tells you to take it easy for a few days and call if you have any problems. His accent reminds of the old Steve Irwin videos you used to watch with your friends. It’s soothing in a way you don’t understand. You struggle to find your words to reply to him, but manage a whispered thank you.

Outside, the rain is coming down. You wait for your taxi, slowly becoming more and more drenched as the heavens open. You would stand under the portico, but it’s left clear for the emergency services. A gurney is rushed past, a young woman. You wonder what is wrong with her as the paramedics shield her from the rain.

“So, you come here often?”

The Australian accent draws you to your senses, a worthless pickup line that you’ve joked about but never had used on you before. You smirk. “Does that ever work?”

“First time for everything.”

He’s wrapped in a thin coat, his blonde hair becoming darker and sticking to his forehead with each raindrop that hits. You’re not sure when you agree to go to his apartment. It seems to happen so naturally as you find yourself walking to his car with him. He asks about you, what you do for a living, how long you’ve lived in New Jersey. Do you have any friends, family, a partner?

His apartment is what you expected of a young single doctor, more time spent at work than at home. There’s the odd creature comfort: a violin case stood against the wall, some aged video games in a stack by the TV. It’s not until you look closely that you see the hidden details: the photo frame face down on the cabinet, the medical journal under the leg of the coffee table keeping it stable. Rowan Chase? Any relation? You wonder.

“Got you a towel.” Robert brings it around your shoulders. Gone is his coat, leaving nothing but the wet shirt underneath. You know this is no longer professional care, but you don’t mind, swept up in whatever God’s plan is for the two of you.

“You have a nice apartment.”

“You should see the bedroom.”

He’s so quick to lure. How many of these lines have been used on others before you? How many others have there been? You’re drowning in those seas, but you don’t seem to care. Let the tide pull you away. Let him drag you down.

Suddenly he apologises, and you’re not sure why. Was it your silence at his remark? He offers you a drink, but you decline. The medication, you remind him. He nods, understanding, and places himself on the sofa, leaning his head back over the cushion. You sit next to him, seeing the façade of the strong doctor fade momentarily. You hesitate a moment, but place your hand on his knee, a warmth and comfort that you’ve both been seeking for so long.

He glances up, confused, a brief flash over his face where he considers rejecting the sensation, but then his arm comes around your shoulder, pulling you close. You lean into his body, taking in the seawater, letting it fill your lungs. You feel the warmth of his breath in your damp hair, the press of his lips on your forehead, on your nose, on your mouth, each softer and more meaningful than the last.

He doesn’t take it further. There is all the time in the world for that. Instead, he switches on a movie, holds you close in a way you’ve only ever dreamt of. You don’t realise you’ve fallen asleep until the next morning when you wake up, a cushion under your head, a blanket covering your shoulders. The scent of coffee fills the air, and you glance around, trying to catch your bearings.

Chase emerges from the kitchen, sweatpants shielding toned legs from your view, but a firm chest on display, skin you’ll run your fingers up, a scar you’ll learn about during lazy days in bed.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

He glows under the curious dawn that lazily comes through the window, his hair as golden as the coast you’ll surf with him one day, his eyes brighter than they ever were under chemical lighting. “Made you coffee.”

---

“These trials only test your faith to see whether or not it is strong and pure. Your faith is being tested, as fire tests gold and purifies it. ... And your faith is far more precious to the Lord than mere gold. So if your faith remains strong after being tested, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day of his return.” – Chase S1 E5

[locusfandomtime]

Fake logo designs of various districts/companies in Hermitcraft S8! Something about Hermitcraft brings out the graphic designer in me (*cough* it’s because I love worldbuilding and making tiny details in a world) anyway!

Design notes under cut! (Alongside some headcanons - it is quite long)

Horse Head Farms: this is the logo that started this idea basically. I got such a cool image of an eclipse with a repeated b+w horse head pattern and I really wanted to make it happen. M.C. Esher has done designs like these but as tiles, which I used as inspiration. I think I could have made it look a bit clearer but for my first time drawing something like this I’m pretty happy. The text is from one of the default Procreate fonts and kinda makes HHF look like a law firm (which is the vibe I was going for, soul-stealers and lawyers are often sorta linked in fiction, and supposedly xB and Hypno are their own legal team). xB and Hypno are the only employees other than the people they blackmail into doing stuff for them.

Big Eyes: I wanted a red eyeball as a reference to Tango’s amazing prank on Boatem and I imagine it’s a goofy little mascot for the company. Some big goofy text felt fitting alongside this. I wanted to make a Pass n Gas specific logo too but I wanted to focus on the main “districts” rather than specific shops. I feel like this is kind of obvious but in-universe Big Eyes are VERY unsuccessful and actively losing money.

Hohenzollern Castle: not really a company but Joe and Cleo are cool so I wanted to include them and I had a tiny bit of blank space left on the page so here we are. I actually really love how the sign looks, the wood texture came out nice. They don’t have a logo as much as they do a sign outside their area, created by Joe, with the text written by Joe’s dyes. The “Hohenzollern” is kinda squished because he began to run out of room but was too stubborn to split the word in half. Cleo argues that it isn’t a logo and is just a sign with the castle’s name on it. Joe argues back with a deconstruction of “what is a logo, really?” and something about companies and capitalism and Cleo doesn’t care enough to respond.

Octagon: I am a fool who initially thought it was spelt “Octogon” and had to fix it well after I finished. Oh well. I wanted this to have a very evil look about it. You can instantly tell they’re the evil tech company running experiments on the quantum realm or whatever in a Hollywood movie. Between the unsafe work conditions and the tax fraud, it is a miracle they haven’t been shut down (reason: the government is scared of Doc)

The Evil Empire: the “the” wouldn’t fit so I had to make some sacrifices. Evil Xisuma is dramatic and edgy so he wanted the logo to be in fancy black calligraphic medieval looking text. It fits the evil castle aesthetic the whole area has pretty well too. The Evil Empire is kinda like a Hot Topic store and a Renaissance Fair combined, but it is also involved with Crypto. Despite being so weird it has a perfect niche of marketing to edgy teenagers so it is quite successful. The employees hate it there because their work mandated uniform is to “dress like an evil minion”. Jevin is a slime monster, Wels cosplays a knight and Beef turned into an alien so they thankfully didn’t have to change.

Boatem (BTM): heavily inspired by Grian’s simplified logo he made in Minecraft, where he shortened it to BTM. Despite already having a reference to work off, this was the hardest design. I knew I wanted it to be simple, all-white and leaning back dramatically but I spent ages fiddling with it. Boatem is the most successful company, being perfect for the general public and their shopping district a tourist destination in of itself. It nearly went into bankruptcy when Mumbo was CEO but has been very successful since his Robot took over.

Zedaph Laboratories: my favourite design. Hand writing the text was a nightmare but it came together nicely other than that. Sheep symbol because sheep are his brand. I used the same colour palette as his laboratory. “Laboratory” is misspelled for two reasons: 1) I realised my mistake too late to change it, 2) I think it is completely in character for Zedaph to not know how to spell laboratory and only realise after Tango points it out and be forever haunted by his mistake. Don’t let the sleek corporate design fool you, Zedaph is still wild and is the only person in the “Zedaph Labratories”.

[dylanndr]

It Happened to Me: Crushing While Aro/Ace

TL;DR: You don't stop being aro/ace even when you're having feelings that look, on the surface, strikingly similar to what allo people typically feel. Insert the usual caveat that this is about my own personal experience, other folks will have different takes on this topic.

So yeah, I came down with a crush recently, and decided to draw this little diary comic about it.

[For reference and clarity, I identify as demi/gray for both aro and ace. While I do want to be in a relationship, I don't catch feels for very many people. I do experience sexual attraction, but that's even rarer for me than romantic attraction. This particular guy referenced in my comic managed to set off both.]

On a surface level, there's nothing new or original expressed in this drawing. Pretty standard set of anxieties and behaviors when you're crushing, right?

And yet, for folks who are arospec or acespec, having what looks like a standard crush is not necessarily the same thing as allo crushing. This is not a dynamic I see talked about a whole lot, so I'mma talk about it.

By way of analogy, let's say I did a drawing of a cis man and a cis woman who are clearly a couple, and indicate that they're in a monogamous relationship. Nothing on the surface says that this is anything other than a typical heterosexual couple. Except, wait, what if both people involved are bisexual. Being in a monogamous relationship with someone of a different gender does not automatically reset either person to straight, nor can their partnership be accurately described as heterosexual. Neither person enjoys heterosexual privilege, and each person continues to experience and process attraction differently from someone who is straight.

By the same token, an aro and/or ace person experiencing romantic and/or sexual attraction does not automatically become allo. For my own part, the nature of this particular crush has caused certain allo things to make more sense to me, certain songs or movies or phrases or behaviors, but it feels very much like learning a second language: I just figured out the translation for one or two things that were utterly incomprehensible to me before ("Oh, maybe that's why allos don't seem to get bored of yet another rock song that's about sex. Fascinating.")

This crush does not at all mean that I will now be a typical alloromantic/allosexual from here on out. I still experience these feelings from a different vantage point, and bring a different set of past experiences to bear, experiences that many allo people have flat out told me make no sense to them ("What do you mean you weren't aimlessly horny all the time in high school???"). I still approach relationships in ways that seem "weird" to allos. I still won't be up to speed on attraction dynamics that are deeply intuitive to allo people, but that require translation for me to comprehend them.

And it's not like I haven't spent a lifetime trying desperately to understand all of this. I want to be in a relationship, a fact that a number of even my very close friends are shocked to learn, because I don't perform the typical social signals around that correctly, I guess. And when allo people give me dating and relationship advice from an allo perspective, it most often feels like I'm being offered an array of cow tools. What I actually need (if I may spaghettify this metaphor) is an array of bat tools. They won't necessarily look less odd, but they'll at least be the right tools for me.

[theladysherlock]

talk shop tuesday! incredible coincidence - i wanted to ask you more about your dnd OCs, and you posted a new art piece with one of them! continuing the theme: could you tell more about your dnd OCs and how they came to be?

Ohhhh you have opened Pandora's Box my friend!! I could talk about this topic all day.

Basically there's two parts to this: my approach to DnD in general, and in-depth explanations of the characters. I'm going to put this under a Read More to save everyone's Dash.

Part One: Dungeons and Dragons

So the thing I love most about DnD (and other TTRPGs) is that it's a collaborative game. I'm not responsible for the entirety of the story, I bring my character to the table and everyone else brings their characters and between us, the DM, and the dice, we figure out where the story is going. I enjoy it so much more than trying to come up with everything on my own. And I love that people can surprise me!! @mothmansbigfatass and @ahawkmet (my irl friends and in most of the campaigns I play) can attest, apparently I'm a lot of fun to watch during revelations because I always have a big reaction.

So when making a dnd character, it's important for me to know 1. What the world we'll be playing in is like, and 2. What everyone else is doing. Again, it's a collaborative game, so I want to make sure that I'm playing nice with the DM's world. AND often the setting itself will give me an idea (see Ethan: the game is set at a community college. What's a college stereotype that would be fun to play?). Ideally, the character I make would have a really hard time being plopped into a different campaign and have it still make sense. Secondly, it's more fun for me to play a class that will fill out the party. For example, if we already have a cleric, I don't also need to play a religious character. Those story beats are covered by someone else, I don't want to be competing with another person for cool moments.

Once those two things are settled, character creation is determined by what seems fun to play and what would be interesting aesthetically. I like to keep the backstory light to see what happens as we start playing, and then I can fill it in bit by bit later. Sometimes that bites me in the ass, though (see Ethan: I didn't give him birth parents and then they were incredibly important to the plot). I tend to have a general idea about who they are and what they're like, and then I always get surprised by what they actually end up acting like once we start playing. It's fun for me to figure them out along the way!

The last thing I wanna say about DnD (for now) is that I love everyone else's characters just as much. I just draw mine more because, well, they're mine. I feel weird putting their guys in situations and guessing how they'd react because they aren't my little guys. I much prefer working collaboratively with the other players (like an RP thread) to just writing a story on my own.

Part Two: Ethan

Where to even start with my boy. A bunch of my work friends got together to start a DnD game, and I hadn't played with most of them before so I wasn't sure what to expect. I also did not think the game would last very long, since most campaigns tend to fizzle out after a few sessions. So I made kind of a joke character with extremely little backstory: He's a half-orc, since I hadn't played that race before, he's a bard who is the captain of the local community college's Improv Team, he's "the kind of guy to play wonderwall at a party but you're not mad about it", and I said he's adopted by two men, neither of whom were his biological parents, and he wasn't particularly interested in tracking down his bio parents. This last point is for two reasons: one, I was trying to avoid just duplicating a Dimension 20's Gorgug, a half-orc who was adopted by gnomes and spent the whole first season trying to find his dad; and two, I was pushing an "Adopted parents are not less than biological parents" agenda.

My DM took this personally (affectionate). First session, I was given a clue about his birth parents' identities. From then on, Ethan was dragged kicking and screaming into being the unofficial main character of the campaign. His mom was one of our favorite NPCs, a kickass pirate with a truly tragic backstory who would always jump to help us out of a scrape. His biological dad was the human embodiment of Pride who had took on the form of Fantasy Harrison Ford and was an extremely famous actor in-world. Our BBEG was his uncle, the embodiment of Greed. Every plot point became very personal and it was a lot of fun. I also loved putting him through the wringer, so between me and the DM the poor guy couldn't catch a break.

Part of the dice telling the story, I rolled so bad all the time when I played Ethan. It didn't matter which dice I used, I just rolled really bad, which was not something that normally happened with me. So that was fun to incorporate into his character as we played-- he was insecure about his own abilities compared to the extremely powerful characters he was surrounded by (we had a 20 ft Earth Titan who was an extremely powerful Druid, Emeshka you will always be famous). So he became a more three-dimensional and actualized character the more we played.

He's extremely easy to put in situations and his character design is pretty solid, so I end up drawing him the most. My perfect little guy.

(Anything about him I've tagged either "Ethan" or "Big Yarr Energy" if you want to find more)

Part Three: Mina

After the campaign with Ethan wrapped up, we started a new one in a Cthulhu-inspired setting. My goal with making Mina was to do as close to a 180 as I could from Ethan. While Ethan was a friendly and charming but bad at most things, Mina is a competent and intelligent Druid who's blunt and overworked and doesn't quite know how to meaningfully engage with her party members (but she tries, bless her). Druid was one of the classes I hadn't played yet and I've been making my way through the list of available classes. The One-With-Nature stuff isn't super interesting to me as a player, but I found a homebrew subclass that was based more in Big Cities and as an Architecture Nerd that was much more my speed. Also, I hadn't played an Aasimar before, so that seemed like fun. From all that, I pulled together her whole deal: She was from a bloodline of guardian angels who were sent to protect different villages and towns, and she's gone from her mother's small town to being the guardian of a city of several million people and it's overwhelming. She's lonely and she's jaded and she's got severe Gifted Kid Syndrome and she's got her head on a swivel to make sure her party members are okay even if they don't like her very much and I love her.

I didn't give her a lot of tragic backstory because there are a lot of us playing and I wanted to have a character who could push the plot forward with her actions, instead of having a "now let's stop and talk about my life!!" moment every session that seemed to happen with Ethan. Give everyone else some time to have cool moments, you know? And by GOD are there some cool moments. My fellow players are so good at making compelling characters. Ask @mothmansbigfatass about Nelly if you get a chance.

We're still playing this campaign, although we're nearing the end of it. There's still space for some big moments for Mina in the game, though I'm hoping our DM lets me save hers for last. She's the kind of character to make sure everyone else is okay before taking care of herself, so it feels appropriate. I'm excited to see where Mina ends up. She's definitely a character I'll go back and write/draw a lot afterwards, though. Part of being in a group this size means there's a lot of stuff that just won't get covered. I'll have a lot of material to play with for my own work once we get to the next campaign.

(Anything about Mina I've tagged either "Mina" or "Cthulhu Crimes" if you want to find more)

Part Four: Jess

Jess is a character that isn't from DnD but is a TTRPG character of mine, and I like her so I'm going to talk about her too. Jess is a cautionary tale in Knowing Your Audience.

Jess is from a different group of players than Ethan and Mina. Our DM for that game is notorious for wanting to give us Big, Shonen-Style fight scenes and an insane level of power creep. Character interactions are fine, but his true passion is making us look like Goku.

Jess was... not built to look like Goku. In this world you could identify different types of magic users by their focus, and I wanted her whole schtick to be about deception. She looked like a wizard when she was actually a monk, she looked like a dumb blonde girl when she was extremely smart and good at stealing things, she's a dancer but her primary fighting style was based on capoeira, etc. Also part of why Jess sticks with me as a favorite character is the way I had her powers work was so fun and visually interesting that I haven't been able to shake it. Basically her superpower was that she could snatch bits of other people's powers and use them herself, and you could tell which ones she had because they would fill out spectral stained glass wings with specific colors.

Jess was (and still is, frankly) too complicated for the game our DM wanted to run. Immediately any hope of her being a chronic liar was dashed as her powers did not manifest in a way that could possibly pass off as being a wizard. So instead of being sneaky, Jess became very angry. She was quick to point out injustices in the world we were in. She beat up creeps, she yelled at bigots, she stole powers from macho superheroes trying to one-up her. She had to get a lot less complicated for the story we were in, but the complicated version of her still lives in my head and I like to see what she's up to from time to time.

(I don't think I have anything tagged for Jess, unfortunately)

TL; DR:

TTRPG characters are fun because they let me do my favorite thing creatively, which is bounce ideas off of other people. I typically design them based on the setting, party needs, character tropes that I think are interesting, and just general vibes. Most importantly, though, I don't have a fleshed out character without the input of the other players.

[misscammiedawn]

Apple Music Round-Up 2024

Welp, our mental health results came in for the year. Fun thing to crack through. Because I'm going to be a basic bitch and post my marketing algorithm data online.

It does actually show some interesting insights into our system, though. It's an impartial switch/mood counter that I really can't manipulate.

Let me be a bit self-indulgent.

Artists

So, yeah. We mostly listen to music when we're at the office so that's one day a week. 40 hours of Rush is about on par for us, to be honest. I feel we could have done more.

Anyway. Let's break them down and give a little analysis of where our head may have been at for these times.

Rush - It's Rush. Honestly 40 hours is kind of low for us. Though there's 120 hours of playtime represented on this list which means 33% of all music (in our top 10) was Rush. --Still seems a little low. Doesn't include the time we were listening to Geddy's autobiography, Neil's books or listening to Rush music on YouTube or Winamp on our personal computer. This is Apple Only. The First Constant - Sample Song

CHRVCHES - If Cammie had a favorite band outside of Rush it'd be CHRVCHES. Personally I really enjoy Screen Violence but Cammie likes everything they've ever put out and is pouting that Mayberry is putting the project on hiatus. Every Open Eye is a damn near perfect album and Bury It was a "Camden Song" before we even transitioned. Cammie-Coded - Sample Song

Porter Robinson - The new album dropped this year and as you'll see we ran the Hit Single of the album a bunch of times. We listened to the first two albums a lot in the build up and made a friend on a Discord server over enjoying Porter's work. Also Cammie-Coded. - Sample Song

Left at London - Kind of a surprise as Nat hasn't released any new music this year. I love her work a ton and am a little sad that Tyler didn't show up on either list because, not to be too white on main, she was our entry point for him. Nat's music resonates with us on the topics of transgender topics and mental health stuff, particularly BPD and identity dissociation. Camden-Coded - Sample Song (cw: suicide mention)

Genesis - Genesis (and Phil Collins) are our back-up band for when we need a break from Rush. Kind of surprised we listened to so much. Don't really have much to say. I know we added Home By The Sea and Driving The Last Spike to our favorite songs but can't think of a time we sat down and listened to Genesis with intent. A mystery to be solved, I'm sure. Dawn/Wynn Coded?- Sample Song

The Streets - Okay, The Streets returned after a lengthy hiatus in October 2023 so it's no surprise that we were binging the new album. Craig loves Skinner's work and thinks Original Pirate Material is early 2000s London encased in amber. It feels like home when we listen to it and the boy needs to feel a connection to the things we lost every now and again. Craig-Coded - Sample Song (cw: drugs/alcohol overdose)

Vienna Teng - A little bit of Michigan that we took with us. Wonder if this is a Dawn thing? Vienna Teng has a gentle country/folk mix and has poetic lyrics that try to draw intimate connections between characters. Her songs feel like a voyeur writing poetry about the other people in a diner and I kind of dig that. Dawn/Camden-Coded - Sample Song

Grace Petrie - Queer British folk music, emphasis on the queer. Grace's music has a lot of anger about the current political climate and has a lot of blissful gender euphoria. Cammie/Dawn-Coded - Sample Song

The Narcissist Cookbook - Queer British folk music, less emphasis on the queer. I'm actually sad Cookbook isn't higher. We wanted to see him play live this year but were worried about COVID. Camden-Coded - Sample Song

Yes - It's prog rock. I imagine a decent amount of this time was spent listening to Closer to the Edge alone. Dawn-Coded - Sample Song (cw: 18 minutes)

Individual Songs

...fuck.

So this is obviously a little weighted by the fact that certain songs are the only thing we listen to by their particular artist. 40 hours of Rush is spread over a couple hundred songs where many of these songs are the only thing we even know their individual artists from.

Plus--- I'll admit it. There are times where a certain song just hits and we have to suck the emotion from it like a Capri-Sun by playing it on repeat. I'd say "I" as Camden because there's a lot of yearning/angst songs there but track 4 is 100% Dawn being an extravagant Fae.

Also funny thing. Craig was fronting when we started pulling this and the moment I saw our top songs I jumped in. I almost didn't post to avoid "outing" myself here but if we're going to do the Camden Walk Of Shame then I'm writing my own fucking excuses.

This Means War ~ Marianas Trench (39 Plays) - Look. I'm not going to beat around the bush. I miss my friends. I miss them so much it tears my stomach inside out and makes me cry into a pillow at night.

Cheerleader ~ Porter Robinson (31 Plays) - The hit single from Porter's new album got a lot of spins this year. Cammie absolutely loves doing the dishes while dancing or singing to this one.

I'm Spent ~ Housewife (29 Plays) - "Old friends fading, am I still in your good graces?" - Fuck this entire playlist really is the Camden walk of shame. "I guess that's all in the past. No we're not getting it back." ...god damn it.

Mine (fear. Linnea Olsson) ~ Daniel Olsen & Jonathan Eng (29 Plays) - Dawn, you little shit, this song is pure Fae energy.

Bad Friend ~ Cheese on Bread (26 Plays) - The lyrics on this one are so specific to the artist that I don't really project onto it any but if I did I'd cast myself as the bad friend. Either way the chorus carrying the wish that a broken friendship can be repaired is just... *sighs* ...why the fuck am I posting this on the internet where humans can read it?

Reverse ~ Minimall (26 Plays) - Ever seen the movie Eternal Sunshine? There's a reason that movie is held up as a movie about BPD. I hate the secrets I carry in relation to both my marriage and my former best friends. It's this intense intimate Knowing of a person and... I can't even talk about my part in any of that. It's just, parts of my own history are gated behind bars and it fucking hurts because I'd never tell those secrets because they're not mine, even if the things that I experienced impact my life and I'm left in limbo processing things in solitude. If I could... I'd reverse it. Let all those secrets and experiences pour out of me. That way, maybe there'd be peace?

Do It, Try It ~ M83 (24 Plays) - The scene at the end of Letterkenny season 8 got us into this song and made me reevaluate Junk. Mr. Robot and my love of Daft Punk already sold me on M83 but Junk wasn't that good so we slept on it.

Something's Always Wrong ~ Toad the Wet Sprocket (23 Plays) - Always loved this song and Toad. Craig does too, I believe? Prior to transition and going non-contact with our family of origin we edited a recording of a 3 hour Skype 'conversation' with our father put it on like 10 times speed while the song played and paused the song whenever we spoke. There was about 80 seconds us us speaking. We timed it so "another day, I call and never speak" played before we got our first word out. Fun times.

Keep You On My Side ~ CHRVCHES (23 Plays) - Used to play this on repeat at the end of our marriage. Seems old habits die hard. Cammie loves CHRVCHES. This song is a fucking banger.

You're Gonna Go Far, Kid ~ The Offspring (23 Plays) - Fuck yeah this song is awesome!

-

Okay. Now I'm done shaming myself in public I'm going to just pout for a while.

Maybe listen to some Rush.

[akeowc]

Well, this is a story from a novel on Wattpad called “Sleeping Love.” You can find it on Wattpad and read it because I have already published approximately 7 chapters

To be clearer, this is Lance x oc's story, ever since I watched the show I've actually fallen for him.

So I wanted to do a story for him with my oc.

Now I leave you with the information.

Name: Elena Harris

Japanese name: エレナ・ハリス

Alias: Sleeping head

CHARACTERISTICS

Age

15 (Debut)

16 (now)

Gender

Female

Hair color

navy blue

Eye color

Bright teal

Height

164 cm

Weight

51 kg

Birthday

May 7th

PROFESSIONAL INFORMATION

Affiliation

Easton Magic Academy

Occupation

Student

Status

Alive

RELATIONSHIPS

Family

Unnamed father

Dead mother

Leon Harris (Older Brother)

MEDIA

Anime debut

Episode 1

Manga debut

Chapter 1

Japanese va

Sumire Morohoshi

Elena's mother died when Elena was very young. After her death, Leon took care of his little sister until she was 5 years old, when he had to leave his sister and go to Easton Magic Academy. During this period, her father was so busy that he appointed a nanny to take care of Elena.

She took care of her until she was 9 years old and said that she could take care of herself, so she did not need a nanny, even though she spent most of her time sleeping, which made her personality to be somewhat lazy. One day when she was  10 She went to the forest to go for a walk, and on her way she came across a boy of the same age pumping iron

She talked to him and asked him why he trained like this, he only replied that his father only told him to do it, she later learned that his name was Mash, and I became friends with him, since most people can't stand Elena's lazy personality when she starts, but Mash didn't mind  she also knew that he loves cream puffs, and when he finishes training, they eat them

Appearance

Elena is a girl of average height. She has slightly messy dark blue hair and pale skin. She has a moon-shaped mark on her left cheek. She often wears simple clothes when she visits Mash, but when she entered Easton Magic Academy, she always wore a school uniform that consisted of a T-shirt.  White, with a red tie, a black skirt with black socks, brown shoes and a black cloak, she is often seen with a sleepy expression but with a small smile on her face.

Fanbook Stats:

Blood type: O-

Dominant Hand: Right

Foot size: 23cm

Good Subjects: Astronomy, stars and the sky in general

Bad Subjects: Annoying or arrogant people

Hobbies: Sleep at all times and learn new information

Favorite Food: Sweets of all kinds

Favorite word: Sleep is the solution to everything

Favorite type of opposite sex: I don't care much about appearance, the important thing is that he is a good person and can deal with my personality

Dislikes: Complex topics

Frequently visited school spots: Mash room, dormitory kitchen

E.g. of spending money: Buy astronomy books

How to spend holidays: Hanging out with Mash and sleeping

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

I hope you liked Elena. I tried as much as possible to try to imitate the style of drawing the anime, and this is what happened to me. The next chapter will be about the meeting of Mash and Elena. After that, I will start plotting the anime

See you in the next chapter!

[venture-through-the-mist]

Tennotober 2024

My collection of works based on the Tennotober 2024 prompts.

Hi all! I wanted to take part in Tennotober 2024, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to draw 31 art pieces, so I’m doing some fics instead!

The Warframe Tennotober 2024 Prompt List can be found here: https://forums.warframe.com/topic/1412660-official-tennotober-2024-megathread/

Day 2: Gemini: The God’s Children

The Nightingale siblings have always been quite inseparable, for better…or for worse.

TW: There’s just one warning that I’d like to address for this chapter before we get into the story.

Very brief, non-graphic mentions of sickness, and the after-effects of Albrecht’s experimentation on the volunteers who would become the Proto-frames, Eleanor specifically.

With that out of the way, the fic begins under the cut.

His sister had always been interested in stories. One time when they were children, he’d been unable to sleep. It was common then—even more-so now—, and he’d curled next to her on their beat-up sofa as she wove tales, telling him chronicles of ancient gods, of the Earth, of the stars. She had a glimmer in her eye as she explained the tale of Castor and Polydeuces, and Arthur found himself staring at her with wide eyes, eagerly listening to the myth that his sister seemed so fascinated by.

Polydeuces was willing to give up immortality to be with his brother.

“Would you give up immortality for me?” He had joked, snark filling his tired voice. Eleanor chuckled, shoving his shoulder roughly.

“Hmm…” She’d narrowed her eyes, pretending to think, though it only took a moment for her to find her response.

“Nah. You know I’m not that kind. You?” He knew that she asked in jest, same as he had, and Arthur answered in kind.

“Right, same here. Just imagine, I wouldn’t have to deal with your nosiness.” She had laughed, had smacked him lightly on the arm. 

As the years passed, the two remained close, though Arthur failed to create any meaningful relationships with his peers at school. His sister would always comfort him, in that…strangely sharp way of hers.

“You don’t need them. If they don’t want to be your friends, that’s their loss.” It always made him feel better. When he met Aoi—a fiery, bubbly woman who was so different to him but who, inexplicably, actually enjoyed spending time with him regardless—, he didn’t even need to tell Eleanor. Somehow, she always seemed to know what he was thinking.

“Your girlfriend’s lovely. Almost…sickeningly so, but I’m happy for you.” She’d ruffled his hair and turned, striding out of the room before he could even ask how she’d known how he felt about Aoi when he barely knew how to describe it himself. She’d only met the other woman once, how was she that good at reading people?!

When the sickness came, when the plague began to ravage the world around him, he swore he’d do whatever he could to protect his little family. That ‘Entrati’ man promised health, and it didn’t take much convincing from Aoi and himself for Eleanor to agree to volunteer.

“Fine. If you both think it’s such a good plan…If you trust this Doctor, I’ll go with you. Maybe we can make a difference in this…dying world.” 

He had never regretted anything more in his life.

He thought back to that childhood story when he finally saw his sister’s state. He knew the transformation—or whatever the fuck that ‘Doctor’ did to them—would be painful for her, like it was for him but…

He finally knew what made Polydeuces choose what he did.

He spent so much time just…watching her. Counting her breaths, feeling that thready pulse in her wrist. His anger boiled, coiling with the worry that lashed under his skin, through his mind. He lashed out when Lettie suggested that Eleanor was ‘destined for the morgue’—seriously, how could someone as abrasive as her be their medic, Arthur found himself wondering. She had raised one hand in surrender, the other pressing against the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

“Chill, boss.” Then she had walked away, muttering something under her breath about how she ‘didn’t sign up to babysit’. Aoi had caught his eye, her brow raised questioningly.

“Have you eaten?” He only grunted in response, but she knew. He felt a thud against his lap as she chucked a somewhat squished sandwich at him. He had sighed, but begrudgingly obeyed. 

That night, he lay awake, finding himself praying to whatever gods may or may not have existed, glancing at his sister as she fought a battle no one else could see.

I will share my immortality with you. Just wake up…

The first day that she opened her eyes, he nearly broke his ‘tough, disciplined leader’ mask that he had been carefully constructing. His relief quickly turned to abject horror as her dark scleras widened, as she screamed, agony in her voice. 

Arthur found himself almost relieved when she fell unconscious once more.

The weeks—months?—that followed were a blur. Once Eleanor had fully awakened, it soon became clear that she was in no state to be out searching for Entrati or running reconnaissance. She hardly moved, barely talked—not verbally at least. Yet, she took her new mantle with stride for the most part, though he knew that she was more than a little jealous of the rest of them. She learned how to aid the team in different ways, wielding her telepathy as deftly as he brandishes his sword or aims his rifle. He still remembers that first strange pull, that feeling that he wasn’t alone in his own head. It’s become almost second-nature now to shoo her away from his thoughts. Yet, if she searched, he’s certain that she’d find that childhood memory in there, kept safe from the horrors of the world around them.

Like Polydeuces, Arthur is now the son of a god.

Like Castor, Eleanor is so important to her brother that he wished he wasn’t.

Like the twins, both were reborn, changed, together. Yet, the reality is far less fulfilling than the myth. The siblings are blessed—cursed—with a fate that no one, not even the god himself, understands.

Like the stars, Arthur’s spirit will have to burn out before he allows their bond to be shattered.

[armslikeanchors]

my first meal today is breakfast cereal at 1:00pm

im looking at this picture and reflecting after a short text convo with my best friend after 3 days of silence on her side

she’s pictured here

took this photo when i went on a solo trip to oakland california to visit her for a couple days, im surprised my mom let me take the plane by myself

i actually really love the airport and plane trips. it was my first time going by myself and it was a bit daunting but, i really love being alone sometimes

it felt natural, i felt grown, in a good way

anyways i took this photo while on a walk with her and her mom at a botanical garden-park in san fran, if i remember correctly

3 months after this we would have a falling out over something miniscule, which we overcame a bit over a month ago this year; i’ll get into it in a bit

sam, my best friend, and i had been inseparable since the day we met in 2nd grade

by the end of the school year she moved back to california, but we kept in contact: playing minecraft on our ps3s while on a skype call

simple times

every year we would meet up maybe once or twice for a day or two since then

in october of 2023 she got upset at me over a text i sent her regarding a festival we wanted to go to

i told her that i had a couple friends going to the festival and that i hope she wouldnt mind if i was really invested in spending time with them, since i had never hung out with them before

it was never meant in the way she took it, but the damage was done

i guess she felt i wouldnt make her feel included

which i wish she knew wasn’t true

she can be dramatic at times. growing up together shes always been like that and, in a way, i admired it because it was silly. it was raw, and she would apologize and own up to any little thing she did.

i dont tell her or her mom often but, ive truly always believed that her mom really raised her well. ive always supported sam through everything and i know she’ll make the life she dreams of

anyway to the reflecting:

i texted her i believe early august (i tried looking for the message but they wont load)

and apologized that what i said came off as rude but that it wasnt intended to be that way

she apologized too for taking it the wrong way and we admitted to each other that things have been hard and that our friendship-breakup had been eating away at us since then

the whole time i believed she was over me and didnt care, as i fall victim to overthinking and drawing conclusions (though i have learnt since then that things arent always worst-case scenario)

she visited me in august and we spent a day together (sleepover, junk food, movies and all) and we caught each other up on everything that had happened since october in the mall food court

i was annoyingly loud about things since i get heated over certain topics but, in the moment, i didnt care if i made a fool of myself in front of everyone there because i was just glad to have my best friend back

cut to today and ive realized that since our hangout, she hasnt been talking to me much. i get it though because shes starting college and met the sweetest boy, and im proud of her

im just afraid that we’ve grown too different.

its one of those cliche moments where one friend gets in a relationship and does things in life and the other one is sitting, waiting for a text back

it feels kind of pathetic but im trying not to let it get to me

i dont know,

the day we hung out was really nice but i get this gut feeling with people thats nearly always, unfortunately, true

in which

we’ve grown so different it seems they’re not the same person anymore

i dont know if shes truly my best friend anymore, yknow

shes made several friends since our falling out, friends that she does activities her and i would do when we got to meet up

even trips together like we did !! which is really cool !

anyway, ill love her forever but, the distance was so long and the taste of it all was so bitter i dont know if theres hope for recover anymore

i tell my friends: losing someone in your life makes space for people you never knew could make life feel worth living

maybe that’s what’s happening

the scary part is that only time will tell

but thats okay, here i am

[adversary-to-inamorato]

I LOOVE your IGBP AU tbh! :) your story was super cool, I'm so excited for the next chapter, and i love also the way your write it! I'm so into it, i was shocked when SMG4 came back in the loop!!!

Some questions :

--> will SMG4 get out of this loop?

-->How will you portray SMG34, I'm curious abt this haha, since it can be interesting to see how it is put

-->Will each "loop" be the same or be different?

-->To the Previous question, does SMG4 will somehow loose memory, or a character? Temporary or permanently?

-->How many chapters do you think this story will have? (you can skip this question I'm just curious lmao)

-->Does any characters will know abt the loop?

-->Tv hardware? Will be shown, interact with the others? Hmmm

I'm SOOO sorry for all these questions, I'm sooo curious abt your AU, LIKE İ LOVE IT, I LOVE YOUR STORY❤️

Omg omg you're my first ask hgsngsnhn I cannot keep this cool and mysterious persona (that I already heavily failed) anymore RAGHHH iM SO GLAD YOU THINK SO HERES A LIST OF RESPONSES

- Yes he will, this will be angst with a happy ending! I will add more tags and tw and cw the more I add on (I'm not evil I swear)

- How I portray them is based on their current canon personality from what I have observed so far from MAR10 Day till latest episode. BUT with a dash of psychological elements that they (unwillingly) have to face during the whole shenanigans.

(help me these two are stuck in my brain matter it's almost parasitism- but it's actually comensalism)

- the loop will be the same, but it's up to the characters to change or alter how they go through it. E.g: Same place where it all starts, but different endings when they change their actions such as SMG4 didn't make any of those Toad Legs models, the whole meme reaction thing. This is because he is aware of the mistakes he had done and trying to fix it while he still can.

- It's more of a brain-fog kind of thing. (Temporary) Memory loss is quite common with people with depression/developing depression. There will be serious topics in this fic that might be triggering so I would have to warn y'all beforehand because working on this actually made my friends worry about my mental state AHAHAHA

- I'm glad you asked! IM WORKING ON THE INBETWEEN(s) RIGHT NOW AND ALREADY HAD THE MIDDLE AND ENDING DONE. I already posted the introduction. So far 6 chapters and there may or may not be more. I've been working on this since November and it's driving me as crazy as the guy.

Oh, did I ever mention that? Hehe, forget it.

- Unfortunately, no. Mario would probably have a glimpse of what's going on but not entirely. It is about his recolours after all-- I mean guardians.

- n̵̨̛͉͚͎̯̘̮̭͓͇̪͎̘̥̖̱͖͆̽̓̇͜o̴̧̧̡̫͙̥͔̞̼̝̪̝̜͇̜͓͈͍̎̌̇̔̊͂̃̆͑̑̀͑̐́͝ͅ ̴͚̜̹̪̊̉̌̑̎͋̌̕c̷̞̘̬̟̓͂̀̚o̴̡̰̜̜̮̮̘̺̲̰̅̌͂͐́̋̋̕͝m̴̨̡̧͓̱̼̫̝̞̝͎̮̘̜̬̣͙̼͉̣͛̉̈́m̵̡̛̰͎͙̟͙̮̲̪̗͓̰̹̰̪̦͍͕͑̈́̃͂̀̈́̇̾̚ȩ̶̢̡͎̟̻̙̭̰̞̰͎̤̬͔̣͖̗̜̽͋́̆͒͂̑͗̌͛͆͂̽͘͝ͅn̷̩͇̙̳̫̬͓̓̃̾̆͂͋̃͌͆̚̚͜͝t̴͍͙͍̪̩̥̫̥͍̳͒̏̽̑̽̑̀̋̔̈̎̈́̎͊̾̆̑͆̂͂

That wraps it up! AND NO PROBLEM I HAD SO MUCH FUN ANSWERING THEM! and it helps me reflect on what other kinds of stories I should do with these two goobers ( or three! I really love Mario 💓) I hope I can get the next chapter up as soon as possible, if my work doesn't give me overtime again- ugh. I'm glad you love my work! It means that the ungodly time I spent drawing (still unpublished) and writing (also unpublished) wasn't a dud!

Thank you so much for expressing your interest and curiosity, anon! You made my morning a bit less bitter and a bit more better. (Incorrect grammar but this is nsrs). I hope I could deliver up to your expectations!

I hope.

(Might do a fan-fanfiction take on the BR AU a certain artist made though, I do like the concept. But I need permission probably lol so I'll work on that.)

Thank you so much! You really made me feel worth something :DDD