#thanks for being you. you = joy for me

[zimmbzon]

Gah! It took me forever to reply to this!

@visualtaehyun tagged me in a thing (picrew - it's cute) and it was so sweet and I was so happy and excited - and then I started a new job weeks earlier than expected, in a new country and there was no time for Tumblr for me (sad eyes).

I had also been using a side blog because I did not realise bl would become my main everything, and side blogs don't let you have mutuals. So I swapped urls -> if you think you follow me, you don't, I'm over here now (hi).

in lieu of mutuals to tag I thought I might tag the people whose content is responsible for the Thai-bl-as-main-blog life I now possess. Thank you for fun and for making cool stuff for me to metaphorically eat. You make my days more wonderful (yay).

(You don't have to do the thing, I just thought it was a great opportunity for me to tell you that you're cool and I appreciate it).

@visualtaehyun @cryingatships @recentadultburnout @poetry-protest-pornography @lurkingteapot @squeakygeeky @27vampyresinhermind @guzhu-furen @le-trash-prince

Also please note the band-aid for Mhok, and the artfully draped single lock of hair for Babe.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

best BEAST!!

[somewhatidealname]

i loove how u draw springtrap as this goofy little cartoon Guy. like he’s literally just a little Guy and u perfectly encapsulated that. just needed u to know that you’ve struck a chord in me i love ur springtrap sm

born to be diabolical forced to be a bunny wabbit

[diamondsheep]

Happy Birthday to the Best Cook Ever 💛💛💛

[that-butch-archivist]

At last, I achieve victory .... the almighty Book Wall. Unfortunately I'm still gonna need another bookshelf. You know how it is.

[buttdumplin]

John helps you with your pussy nukes.

Part 3 of Gender-affirming Price, Part 1, Part 2

I wrote this after having my own little pity party about my meds but then I was like, you know what? Price would never

cw: Price x transmasc!reader, established relationship, medical aspects of transitioning, reader's genitals referred to as "pussy" and "cock"

word count: 732

You’ve been at it for a while, sweaty and angry from so many failed attempts. You’ve tried squatting, you’ve tried laying on your back, you’ve tried laying on your side, and still you can’t seem to be able to get the right angle. Having to take these vaginal estrogen tablets is already a pain in sticking to the schedule and going out to get them and just knowing that it’s something you’ll have to stick to for the foreseeable future. All the scraping and poking and prodding only makes things worse. You know you need your dose tonight, but at this point your hands are too slippery from sweat to hold onto the tiny applicator. And you’re far too angry to trust the force of your hands. You have to ask John for help. 

John knows about these tablets. You explained early on what they were and what you needed them for. He has, however, never seen the actual application. Including him into your testosterone routine has been a dream. It’s reassured you both about your connection. Your weekly shots have turned into quiet comfort, the intimidating nature of the injections soothed by John’s care. For him, they’ve become moments of worship, where he can demonstrate his love for every part of you, just as you are. It’s really solidified for you how he sees you. You know you shouldn’t worry about the tablet, and you try to hold onto that as you call him to the bedroom. 

He’s at the door in seconds, his face shifting from slight concern to unfiltered delight. Leaning against the doorframe, he takes in the sight of you on the bed, bare from the waist down, legs wide open and a bit out of breath. 

“Is this for me?” his voice a rumble.

You huff and lift the little pink applicator straight into the air so he can see it, “I keep scraping myself and I can’t get deep enough.”

“I’ve never had that issue.”

“Nevermind,” you start to rise, but he’s easing you back with a gentle laugh.

“Give it here.”

You eye him skeptically, “It has to sit to dissolve. No funny business.”

“No funny business,” he swears. 

A moment later, you’re handing him the applicator, opening your legs further. It looks so small in his hand, barely a fraction of the size of his fingers. Damn. John catches your stare and wiggles his fingers, proud of himself. You smile back at him, rolling your eyes, and the world feels right again. He positions himself between your legs, muscle memory guiding him. Still, he can see your hands pushing down against your tummy, a motion he’s seen you make when you’re trying to self-soothe. 

“Countdown or surprise?” he presses a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, not moving until he feels you relax into the sheets.

“Countdown, please.” 

His hands move quickly and easily, no corrections or suggestions needed. You smile down at him as he removes the applicator, and it helps him breathe again. As skilled as he is, as confident as he is when it comes to knowing your body, there’s still always the chance he might hurt you. John lays his head against your thigh in relief. Your hand through his hair has his eyes fluttering closed, nuzzling further into the softness of your skin.

Before you can inhale to thank him, he surges up and wraps his lips around your tdick in a kiss, giving a pleased hum.

“JONATHAN.”

He lifts his head with a soft pop, eyes wide in mock shock.

“You said no pussy. Fine. Didn’t say anything about this sweet little cock.”

Your legs snap closed, and he crawls on top of you. To think you were concerned about this man. You should have known better. John’s grin is nothing short of devilish as he slowly eases his weight onto you. Using the weighted blanket approach will earn him some points and he knows it. You cradle his head as he buries his face into your neck, gratitude washing over you. The sheer luck of finding the man, of him loving you, will never stop astonishing you. You’re melting into the quiet of the moment when he shifts.

“John. Are you hard right now?”

“How could I not be? With such a gorgeous boy in my arms,” he speaks into skin.

You really should have known better.

AN: Don't let fucking ANYBODY make you feel bad about what you have to do to keep yourself physically and mentally healthy. Everyone's gender journey looks different.

The tablets referred to here are vaginal estrogen tablets. HRT will often cause atrophy in your genitals, so depending on what you want, you might have to take an additional set of hormones for the desired result. Your body and intimacy are yours, and there is no baseline requirement for what transness is. I love yall <3

[pest1c1de]

*foams at the mouth*

Dude I LOVE your art, the way you draw certain characters is just *chefs kiss*!

Could we get Sebastian pressure and the player getting along for once or a hug? Thank you so much and again, YOUR ART IS AWESOME!!!!

i think he needs one anyway

[shivroy]

the mortal wounding of the princess of scots, god be with ye

artist's statement: siobhan roy, in antiquated but historically-indistinct and provocative dress, is shown being fatally impaled through the skull by her whimsical, treacherous steed and beast of burden, tom wambsgans. her attire, as with her relationship, is both affixed in and apart from time: it alludes to an era which it does not belong to. tom and shiv are a contemporary couple, but figuratively engage in an antiquated, eternal dynamic wherein the male asserts dominance over the female through violence, delivered in the show in the form of betrayal. however, references to active movement in the falling of dripping blood indicate to the viewer the dynamism of this relationship, which could seemingly change in the following moment, were time allowed to resume. the absurd and comical image of tom as a unicorn, with equine lashes and sparkling eyes, is contrasted with the brutality of his actions against shiv, making evident the fact that he is not to be underestimated. the disarming sexual innuendo - the act of penetration, as tom "fucks" shiv, and the froth pouring from his mouth, an allusion to tom swallowing his own ejaculate at his bachelor party and an additional symbol of both his rabid defiance and affection for himself and his own ambitions - adds to the potent discomfort of the moment. tom's ears are flattened back in aggression and shiv bleeds profusely, yet both wear serene smiles, not allowing the other to win in spite of the pain of being respectively owned by his wife and murdered by her husband. tom, despite it all, looks to shiv, his master whom he has defied, and shiv looks outwards, forcing herself into a position of unwavering invulnerability in the face of her ending. "god be with ye" is a helpless prayer for the doomed spouses, and a parting message: "god be with ye" is shortened in modern english to "goodbye". goodbye soon, shiv and tom, i will always love you. ❤️

[rudnitskaia]

White Chrysanths for the Swallow

Rocky was waiting for her at the table at the Little Daisy, but this time he was especially eager. Even Ivy had stopped teasing him about the way he lighted up and hummed to himself as he waited for Mau to show up at the door of the café, and just smiled, refilling his coffee whenever it ran out. He almost daydreamed of handing Maura two tickets to tomorrow's musical: of her eyes sparkling, of her taking his hand and telling him he was the best in the world.

But time passed, and Mau wasn't coming.

In those few hours, Rocky had replayed the fantasy in his head hundreds of times, changing the lines and the scenery. At first, imaginary Maura was beaming with happiness, calling him affectionate names, melting in his arms like all those heroines on the stage of a musical theater in the arms of their beloved ones, but every time the fantasy became darker and darker. More disturbing. Mau no longer rejoiced, no longer smiled. Her bright lively figure was becoming more and more dim, and she more often sighed, frowned, did not accept the gift. She asked him to return the tickets, scolded him for wasting his money carelessly, told him some news, one worse than the other, and finally said she didn’t want to see him again. Never again.

It was getting unbearable to sit still, and Rocky abruptly moved away from the table, threw on his coat, and headed for the exit. Maybe a walk would clear his head a little…

“Miss Pepper, I have a very urgent task to attend to. If she shows up on the doorstep, don't let her out of here on any pretext. Lock the doors, board up the windows, show her every fashion magazine you can find, but don't let her leave here until I get back. I'm counting on your wit and exceptional charm.”

The way he looked intently into Ivy's eyes before he left looked almost threatening. He wasn't even aware of the desperation hiding behind that look. But Ivy saw it.

“Don't worry, I'm an expert at this,” she winked at him encouragingly.

The cold air blew across Rocky's face, and he shivered, pulling his scarf over his nose, the same funny skewed scarf Mau had knitted for him last Christmas. Sometimes, like now, Rocky thought he could still smell on it the very same scent of coffee and pastries that wafted from the Venza family's eatery. It didn't help distract him, though. Quite the opposite. After walking a few blocks in an attempt to escape his doubts, he spotted a small flower shop — Rocky's imagination immediately conjured up a lovely picture of Maura cradling a fresh spring bouquet on this cold, cloudy evening and he didn't notice himself stepping over the store’s doorstep. The frail old woman behind the counter put aside the newspaper and immediately chirped, offering him different flowers, and finally convinced him to take a few white chrysanthemums. She tied the flowers with a delicate pink ribbon and also wrapped them tightly in the newspaper she had read before.

“They mustn't be overfrozen. Or they won't last long,” she explained sternly.

Rocky walked back much more briskly. He was warmed by the thought that now he would be able to give Mau not one surprise, but two. Hiding the bouquet from a gust of cold wind, Rocky lowered his gaze to it and pressed the flowers closer to himself… when suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the headline of one of the newspaper articles.

“Shootout at the small Italian eatery Casa di Rondine shocked the residents… a bloody showdown in the neighborhood… occurred on the night… police identified the bodies of two…”

Rocky couldn't remember how he reached the familiar alleyway. How he threw the bouquet to the ground, swung over the barrier tape, and rushed to the entrance — a gaping hole instead of a small blue door. Shards of glass littered the floor, the formerly cozy, cramped hall was a real mess, the furniture was riddled with gunshots. Even the old tabletop radio was now on the floor, shattered to pieces.

“Stop right there!” a panting policeman grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. “What the hell are you doing breaking into a crime scene?”

“I… uh…” in his panic Rocky couldn't think straight, but nonetheless he blurted out: “I'm from a newspaper. Wanted to visit the crime scene myself.”

“A lousy reporter you are, then. Your buddies sniffed everything around here a long time ago.”

“I was just hired today and immediately assigned to this very intriguing case. So…”

“There's nothing intriguing about it. This Bianchi guy…”

“Who?”

“The renter, Augusto Bianchi, if that's his real name at all, apparently had a huge debt to pay someone. And for that, he got pinned down. There was a scuffle in the night, at least four assailants. The two guys we found here have a couple priors, but they're not in a condition to tell us who hired them. The amount of such cold cases we have…” the man hummed and passed his hand above his head. “We've already explained it all to your fellow scribblers this morning. And I highly doubt the landlord would want to tell the same story tenth times over to another newspaper weasel. The only thing he's interested in right now is getting money from the insurance company.”

“And the girl?”

“What girl?”

“The waitress. Who worked here. What about her?”

“Considering how much blood there is, they're probably both either in a ditch, scattered in pieces, or feeding fishes somewhere at the bottom of the Mississippi… both father and daughter, if you meant her,” boredly remarked the other officer, who had quietly approached them, lighting a cigarette. “There's nothing for you to do here, boy. Henry's right — there's absolutely nothing of interest in this case. People might have chattered about it in the morning, but the very next day they'll forget all about it. Go home, don't add to our workload. And quit the paper that sent you here. If your editor doesn't realize that news like this must be broken in the heat of the moment, believe me, their business will burn out faster than a short match.”

Rocky tried to get anything else out of them, at least a little bit, to look in the kitchen of the eatery, to slip upstairs to Mau’s and Augusto's apartment, but the policemen were adamant. On unsteady legs he made it to the nearest bench and collapsed on it, staring blankly into the dark November sky. He could have screamed, could have destroyed everything around him on a single painful impulse, but the emptiness that engulfed him was far more frightening.

His silence was more frightening.

Years would pass. Would flow, as before, from night to night. The world won’t notice his loss. The world won't notice any loss at all. In the place of his beloved swallow house, other birds will build a nest. Freckle and Ivy will eventually stop opening that wound with their questions. And one day, perhaps, he will stop gazing into the crowd, hoping to find among the unfamiliar faces the features dear to his heart, and stop flinching when he hears someone say amore mio. He knows how it happens — it was not the first time. All he has to do is smile and everything will work out. It'll wear off, getting back to the way it was. One day.

But the bouquet of chrysanths will still remain rotting on the cold ground.

[moeblob]

You literally spent three hours having an ENTIRE SCHOOL (teachers included) slut-shaming a guy just for him to be a (spoiler).

[alongtidesoflight]

so here's my honest thoughts on dragon age: the veilguard, after ~40 hours of playing. i finished the main quest after having finished all companion quests and major faction quests. just to clear up what content i saw, i played as an elven transmasc rook who is a member of the lords of fortune. he romanced lucanis (although after finishing the game i'm now leaning towards taash). i don't know what's happening in playthroughs that have a different race, gender identity, romance or faction going on.

full spoilers ahead, i mean it. don't read further if you want to avoid them. i don't want complaining about it in my asks.

oh and also, if you're worried because of a few negative reviews online i can comfort you by saying don't give a fuck about a certain big name youtuber who is very much tied to bethesda franchises giving this a negative review. i'll explain why.

i'm starting off with the things i liked

the game looks really pretty. i was worried it wouldn't feel like thedas anymore (with them trying to "focus on northern thedas only" i thought they'd make a clear cut in environmental design. they do and they don't. it's complicated. i'll elaborate on it when talking about the negative stuff). anyway it does. minrathous feels like kirkwall. treviso enchanted me like the winter palace did. the hossberg wetlands reminded me of the hinterlands and a couple other inquisition maps. arlathan looked like... arlathan. the crossroads were different, but familiar. overall i like the way it looks and feels. it's thedas, with a twist. it's a good one, and gives everything a solid but unique feel.

combat is top tier. if you're a hardcore dragon age player you WILL miss the tactical aspect of it for a bit, but i promise you, once you're used to the way the combat works, you will be lapping that shit up. and once you get to ability combos you'll mourn the control you used to have over your companions in battle a bit less

the MAIN quest and its story. i expected worse, way worse. and for a while the game even had me tricked (harr harr you'll get it in a second) it is Really That Much Worse. but holy shit was it good. i walked away satisfied ngl.

your choices have SOLID weight. there's consequences, good AND bad. i got minrathous blighted, ruled over by venatori, and the leader of the shadow dragons ultimately died because of my decisions. i made those at the beginning and throughout the game. he died at the end. DAVRIN died because i didn't expect what i was saying to have that much weight. i thought i was in the clear. he had hero status. well turns out, your choices can still get your companions killed even if you do everything right. i fucking love him. he shouldn't have made that sacrifice just because i told him to do everything it takes once.

the inquisitor, morrigan and dorian being there, surprisingly. there's also negatives to this though, see below.

speaking of companions dying and the inquisitor playing a bigger role: the final quest feels like me2's suicide mission. i was blown away by it and the fact that i got to see the results of all my efforts playing out in front of me.

bioware are NOT trying to redeem solas. they love him as a character yes, but i wasn't forced to see any good in him. he betrays you. he fucked my rook over twice. he fucked him over right back, for good this time (the veil wasn't torn down, i anchored it by binding him to it, he's doomed to uphold it). but solas really lives up to his name as the trickster elven god. rip to all the people who grew really attached to him over the years.

varric died. if you like him that's probably as hard reading it as it was watching it. varric died and the game lies about it until the very end. when the realisation hits, it hurts. but in the very best way.

the amount of care they put into gender expression and trans identities this time around. (i'll add onto this with negative points as well too).

rook feels very much ingrained in the world of thedas. he doesn't ask questions that expose the player to lore through dialogue as if he's stepped foot into thedas for the first time. those conversations feel very solid and good. i hope other faction players got as much joy out of this as i did.

and the things i didn't like and boy there's a lot unfortunately

the music. let's just get that out of the way holy shit. it doesn't feel like it belongs in this universe. it gets so incredibly sci-fi-y at times you'd think it's taken straight from mass effect andromeda. there's not a single song unique to veilguard that i really enjoyed. it broke my immersion, real bad. hearing a busker play the tavern songs from inquisition on a lute right after i killed some venatori with wobbly bass songs playing in the background is just odd. weird tonal shift. don't like it. it's made for people who like flashy light-weight cinema.

tevinter nights is required reading. the podcasts are required listening exercises. the game is so fast paced, especially at the start, that there's no time to introduce you to characters and how much weight their names carry in-game. i would not have known who half these people are if i hadn't skimmed over tevinter nights. i'd care even less about them than i already did. there is no time to get properly attached to them. people will act as if you're talking to a legend personified and you'll be thinking man goddamn which chapter of tevinter night were they in again and what did they do???

there's a weird mismatch with the animations. you'll have beautifully fluid ones, like emmrich casting spells. and then you'll have rook's face animating in the most unnatural manner that's sorta reminiscent of mass effect andromeda's "my face is tired" addison, when their emotions SHOULD be landing with the player rn instead.

i'm not vibing with the art style. sometimes it works. most of the time it doesn't. at points i felt like i was watching tangled.

that also brings me to some of the dialogue. same issue. i am watching frozen. i am watching tangled. someone on the writer's team really likes the adorkable trope. bellara is its victim.

for all the talk about identity, bioware sure doesn't like theirs. the grey warden armor got a redesign again and it just makes them look like a generic army. i hate it lol

in general, i don't like the armor design. the wardrobe/appearances system is fine, but it's just not helping if all the armors are just... kinda bland or downight bad looking? and don't get me started on the lords of fortune armor. that is orientalism personified.

the world states should have been carried over, full stop. i know they said they didn't because they want to separate what happens in the north from what happens in the south, which... i could have lived with that. but the inquisitor sends you letters that keep you up to date on... the south of thedas. you learn that there's a blight again, that people are standing strong but it's difficult, denerim's fallen, the rulers are taking care of it, orlais is fighting and they're successful for a while, etc etc. what's good bioware. i thought we don't care about the south this time around. why are you feeding me so much boring generic information. if you're not gonna show any of it and just write letters, then carrying the world state over should not have been an issue. i have a game dev background. those few lines of code would not have broken your budget or pushed your engine's limits. fuck right off.

this gripe of mine carries over to all the cameos. as a lord of fortune you have to deal with isabela a lot. it's fun. i missed her. you get to go drinking with her and taash and bellara! also my hawke romanced her. she's not mentioned once. they had the opportunity to put a sentence or two about her in there with not a lot of effort, trust me.

when varric dies, all she has is a single line about it. for gold, for fortune, for varric. she only says it if you interact with her on your way to the final push. that's not mandatory.

morrigan is there. kieran isn't. the old god soul that mythal and then solas absorbed? who cares at this point, the gods are dead now and solas is locked away for eternity. i suppose? why is morrigan there. she feels unneeded. i wish they'd just left her down south, at least that way i wouldn't have had to witness her god awful redesign.

dorian at least feels as if he belongs in this story. the shadow dragons are a crucial part to protecting minrathous. he's also weirdly underutilised. isabela and morrigan had more lines than him in my playthrough.

on the topic of romance: bro that was underwhelming. no, genuinely. you know when romance picked up a bit? after the point of no return. i heard maybe two lines of companion banter about it before that. maybe i missed something which i honestly doubt, but romance did not play much of a role in lucanis's storyline. i saved his grandmother as he wished me to (and if you read tevinter nights you know she was rather abusive and their relationship not the healthiest) and told him to focus on his family. a reunified family my rook wasn't even introduced to as a partner at the end of all that.

really, do not buy this game if you're only in it for the romances. others might be better, lucanis's basically gave me nothing. except for an outing (the second coffee date i had with him, it was getting repetitive) all of it played out once i committed to the final quest. the sex scene was a fade to black. annoyingly right after davrin died. if you're looking for well paced and good spice, pick up something else. the sweet talk and the final goodbye were nice though.

for all the good the ever-presence of gender identity does, it is brought up in such a disruptive manner too. it doesn't even play out naturally if you CHOOSE the lines that are meant to be said. hearing the words trans and non-binary in this setting doesn't feel right, and i'm saying this as a trans guy. i think it could have been handled more gracefully. the amount of times my rook went "i'm a MAN" as if he's about to start drumming on his chest and roaring any second now got super nerve-grating. "i'm so glad you're into me... the me who is trans. remember?" just. tell me one trans person who'd talk like that to a person they've grown close with and are trying to romance. this game doesn't handle sexuality well, so all this hey my body might not look like the way you're expecting it to look talk amounts to nothing anyway. i feel about this the way i feel about krem: this is partial exposition to trans experiences... packaged up for cis consumption. the ONLY exception to that is interacting with taash. holy shit was all of that heartwarming and bro did it feel good and natural to talk to them about theirs and rook's gender.

rivain and nevarra are new locations added by veilguard. they're also incredibly underwhelming, small and constricted maps. rivain is a coastline with a few ruins. the hall of valor is a partial ruin nestled into a cave on a beach, with a fighting pit. isabela is there in her skimpy outfit commentating your pit fights. that's it. i'm sorry if you were looking for a bustling pirate cove or whatever. you're not gonna get it. the nevarran crypts btw are a long ass dungeon crawl. that's it.

speaking of maps. i thought people were being dramatic when they said you're gonna be fighting the same enemies on them again and again. i thought they were figure of speeching it. they're not. you WILL fight the same amount of enemies. in the same spot. every time you reload the map. best to stay on a map and clear out the enemies and do as much questing on that map as you can before leaving, because you WILL have to do it all over again once you return.

the three choices i made for my inquisitor didn't matter lol she didn't have to face solas and therefore couldn't stop him at any cost as she had sworn (maybe because my rook tricked solas into binding himself to the veil, there was also an option to fight him. would she have stepped in? who knows). blackwall wasn't mentioned. and either her using a small amount of her forces in the final fight was the reason the civilians of minrathous fared so well..... or it just didn't matter. ultimately i think she had very little impact on anything

[howtodisappearcompletelyand]

20/10 stars little guy

[mars-ipan]

it's pride month of course i'm going to push my transfem komaeda agenda

[stone-stars]

on sharing creative work with people who get it.

[ID: A comic in a simple art style, featuring two people drawn in black and white: a person with short hair and round glasses (the author), and a person with short hair, square glasses, and a possum on their head (their friend). The first row has 3 square panels: The author types at a laptop. The laptop screen, with a page full of words is shown. They stare at it, going "hm…" Then, there are closeups: Their face as they look away with a frown, and their hand as they go to close the laptop, a little burst of yellow with the word "pop!" appearing behind them. It zooms out to them, with the laptop half closed, looking surprised at their friend, who has popped into existence grinning behind them. Three more square panels: Their friend leans forward, pointing at the laptop, as the author looks confused, still. They open the screen and look at what their friend is pointing at, their friend saying "!!". Then, there's a closeup of just their friend, staring forward with a smile, with a speech bubble with a bright pink heart in it. The next panel is longer, as the author and their friend begin to talk back and forth. Their friend's first speech bubble has "!!", with some yellow popping around it, and then the rest of their speech bubbles are big and filled with bright colors. The author responds in small speech bubbles, all empty save for a pair of round glasses in the corner to indicate who is speaking. In the bottom corner is a speech bubble from the author that reads "..." Next are two smaller panels, stacked on top of each other. The author speaks, and this time their speech bubble is filled with partially desaturated color that becomes pink to one side. The friend responds, in bright pink, as the author smiles slightly. The next panel doesn't have a border. The author and their friend talk in the bottom left corner, a cloud of intertwining speech bubbles coming from them. The speech bubbles are painted across in a rainbow of bright colors that extend beyond the borders. They're both smiling as they talk. Below this are two thinner panels, both closeups of the friend as they continue to talk and gesture, brightly-colored speech bubbles behind them. Then, in a wider panel, the friend points back to the computer screen, still speaking with colorful bubbles, as the author nods and follows their gaze. The last row has 3 square panels. The author stares at the screen in surprise, then smiles with teary eyes, touched. The last panel shows the laptop screen again, the same document this time painted with bright colors behind the words. below this panel is the word "end."]

(split into two panels under the cut just in case tumblr kills the quality)

[ID: The same comic, now split into two images before the large colorful panel full of speech bubbles.]

[0v0theo]

beware of the swamp || my piece for @ygomerzine

[arsenicflame]

Hornigold's Izzy was the worst, of course. A version of himself that never escaped that terrible place, who lived his life as little more than an object. He still has nightmares about all the things Baz told them, about all the things he didn't.

It doesn't really surprise him, after the first ones, not at its root. To be Izzy Hands is to be someone's after all, though seeing his own face on someone so fundamentally different to him never gets less weird. The people who these other Izzys attached themselves too often left him with more questions than answers. Jack's Izzy, he can understand, from a certain view, though the man himself felt like a fever dream. The less said about Stede's Izzy the better, he's never going to forgive him for the ideas he put in his Stede's head.

Then there was Sam's Izzy.

The first thing anyone noticed about him was that he was happy. He smiled and laughed without thought, and went through life with an ease Izzy didn't think he had ever felt. The crew took to him immediately, accepting him in a way they never did the other Izzys, and certainly not their own. They prodded him and asked him endless questions, and he took every touch without a flinch and answered every question without a hint of a grumble. This Izzy was free. He was open, unburdened, trusting. He was happy.

Sam's Izzy was the one that hurt the most to see. He could accept the worst that Hornigold could've offered, that he would have suffered and been broken. It was infinitely harder to see that he had a chance to be this happy. That it slipped through his fingers.

He's never looked back before, but now? Seeing what might've been? He can't stop himself from considering the possibility that maybe he made the wrong choice back then, going with Ed.