#wanted to try something a lil different with the background (right rabbit)

[shapeshiftinterest]

@botanicalcadaver's OC the rabbit

big thanks to my younger brother for helping me with the arm pose

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Thirteen | Waterfall (Part 2 of 4)

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You keep repeating to yourself this is nothing but a simple and friendly outing, though it's easy to forget with how insistent Frisk and Undyne have been in terms of suggesting the opposite.

The feeling's made worse when you get down from the ride and see how grand and overwhelming the place you've been invited to is. In comparison to the warm and calm ambiance of a regular bakery or a small coffee shop, you're met with people clad in semiformal outfits and a refined atmosphere -- similar to that of a five-star restaurant. What reminds you this is just a place for eating desserts is being greeted at the front by a humbler-dressed, white-furred rabbit monster labeling himself as the second owner of the shop, the name 'Roger' spelled out on his name tag. He greets you and Sans in, and offers you a pamphlet.

"I remember you," he says, facing Sans with a smile. "You're from Snowdin, aren't you? It's nice to see you've found a date up here!" The excitement in his tone warns he's about to ramble. "It's so refreshing to see other people like us! Honestly, we… We made this shop hoping more would show up, but you two are the second couple I've had the knowledge of serving here so far!"

"Like us?" you ask, facing the monster. "Is your partner human?" 

"Yes!" he takes your hand while his nose twitches with pent-up energy. "People always come here talking a little, well... mean about it, so I always have to stay on-watch. The first couple that came here got scared off by one of those customers, but now my girlfriend makes sure to keep an eye out!" He lets go, apologizing after. "I get too excited every time I see pairs like you walk in together, but they always tell me they're just friends! And while I get that, really it's... It's such a joy to have you guys here!"

"We're actually not-"

"I get what you mean." In the spur of the moment, you interrupt Sans when he tries to say the truth. Roger's excitement is too bright to rain on, resulting in you wanting to play along. With how he is, you're sure the skeleton's not going to let you live it down, but one look at the hope in the other monster's eyes is enough to make your heart turn to mush. "This is actually our first date, but we're getting there."

Roger smiles, though it soon fades as he looks at the approaching line of customers from afar. Then, he looks to the shop to see the ones who entered in before you have already sat down. "Sorry for holding you back so much," he adds, huffing as an apologetic look makes its way through. "I try really hard not to get too excited about this kind of stuff, but again... It's so nice to have you guys here!" He points over to the counter, smile reappearing. "Go ahead and stop by the counter, alright? You can order to-go, or sit down, if you want to stay!"

"Thank you," you reply, returning his smile. 

You make way into the shop with Sans by your side, avoiding eye contact all the way to the counter. You already know he has a comment on the ready, so it's not much of a surprise when you hear him speak up right before making it there. "So," he says, chuckling. "First date, huh?" He walks a little closer to your side, trying to get you to look at him, but failing. "...Was that meant as a lie, or are you hintin' at somethin' else there, pal?"

"I'm not sure what to think of this myself, but…" You stop halfway, not wanting to admit your own wants just yet. "In the end, I only did it 'cause I couldn't bring myself to get his hopes down." A pink-furred bunnywoman takes your order. The reply you'd given Sans by text is then worded out by him, along with his own order and Frisk's favourite dessert to-go. While you have your wallet close by, you're not told to pay yet, and are instead led to an empty table, where you're both left to wait. You thank the monster as she leaves and go back to your conversation with Sans as soon as she's gone from your sight. "But even if this was a date, I still don't think I'd be able to accept having another one after today's."

At that, his curiosity rises, shown by the subtle flicker in his irises. "What do you mean?"

You avoid his gaze by toying with the cutlery left on the table. "I need to focus more on raising Frisk before going anywhere with my love life."

"Why?" There's honest confusion in his question despite how blunt and intrusive it is without any proper context, something he catches onto by using another one to elaborate his meaning better. "So you haven't dated anyone ever since that day?"

You nod while thanking a waiter, this one a brown bear dressed in more formal wear; he sets two drinks down -- one for you and one for your company. "I haven't, and to be honest I'd…" Your chest feels tight as so does your throat, both of these almost trying to distract you away from what you're about to say. "I'd like to keep it that way for as long as it's needed." You try to stop yourself from saying anything else, though the coziness of the shop and Sans's presence give you an entry for letting out what's been kept hidden for as long as that day came around. "I need to be there for Frisk, and I need to be more careful of who I date from now on." You're not sure what else's making you open up so much, but you don't exactly stop yourself from continuing with your thoughts. "You see, I… I really don't want Frisk to grow up in an environment full of constant fights and disagreements." 

As soon as you catch yourself, your brain makes a stop, yet your mouth continues to pour out what's making your heart strain as much as it is currently. "There's already enough of that in the world waiting out there for Frisk when they grow up, so the least I can do is make it a little easier for them right now." Your mind hates you at this point, though you can feel the rest of your body grow lighter, tension releasing itself from it. "That's why… why I didn't really try to stop Jerry when he started to drift away; when visits became just once a month, rather than twice a week. We didn't really get along well after we (had/adopted) Frisk, so that's why… That's why I figured it was best to let him go."

When you hear your voice turn weak, you stop, mind sending endless comments of disapproval into your thoughts. You flinch when you have a napkin offered out to you, but you take it when you see Sans nod, still waiting for you. He then pulls back quickly, still avoiding your touch. "So, what I'm gettin' at here's that you feel just as responsible as Frisk did over what happened that day," he says, voice low and tone solemn. "Or at least, that's what it looks like."

Sans stops and looks behind you. The same waiter from before appears next to you and places your dessert first and later his; once more, you thank him and wait until he leaves the table. When he's gone, your companion speaks up again, setting the plate aside to focus on you more. "Don't wanna assume things right off the bat, but…" He takes a pause, picks up a fork, and pierces it through the pastry. Then, he faces you, continuing with, "You kinda feel like you've gotta make up for that? Limiting yourself that much ain't really the best option there is, though."

You hum, face away, and pick up a portion off your dessert to distract yourself from him. "I just don't trust myself enough to make the right decision again." You take the first bite; the sweet's flavour helps you with the situation. 

The harmony of cutlery clicking and outside chatter blend into the background as your conversation with him carries on. While you listen, you take another bite off your dessert to make matters less tense. "Y'know, if this helps, most of us think you did a good job raising the kid." He stops again and brings the cup closer to him. "If you look at it this way, you helped with lettin' 'em make their own choices and decide how to approach monsters back then. In a sense, we're all connected one way or the other -- kinda like how you start off as their teacher, and then take them to an actual school where they'll continue to grow as a person." He sways the drink around and looks down at it for a moment. "And even if it's possible for a kid their age to start shapin' their own mindset and decide what's good, what's alright, and what's not, most of it's still based off what they've been taught so far. They're not fully in control of who they are yet, and that's why it's often a huge responsibility to take -- parenting, teaching, and all that."

He stops again to take a swing from his drink. The view of his skull contorting to allow him a sip was one surprising to watch the first time you saw him and Papyrus eating some of Toriel's vegetable stew the day of the blackout, and even more intriguing the time you invited him over for a meal after finishing with your errands at the school supply. Now that you're seeing it for a third time though, you focus far too much on it, yet you try to brush it off and pay more attention to him. There's plenty of questions present in regard to how monsters worked the way they did -- each different in their own way, given how many types there are -- but you're not quite sure if it would be proper to bring them out so suddenly right now.

"Basically," he continues, setting the drink down. "When you're at that young of an age, you don't have a full understanding of who you are, and that's why it's so important for lil' kids to have good, or at least decent examples for them to follow." He faces you. How direct his gaze feels makes you look away, feeling embarrassment burn your face. "And so pretty much based on how Frisk acted during their time at the Underground, I can tell they've been raised well." His gaze drifts off behind you again, though there's a different look to it this time. In contrast to the one he'd given earlier to acknowledge the waiter's arrival, there's caution present in his irises. "What I'm sayin' here is: you're a good parent, (Y/N). And if you feel like you have to restrain yourself from livin' life, you really shouldn't. You're-"

"Hey, Kevin," a man says, voice coming from behind you. "What did the skeleton say to the hog?" 

The strangeness behind his gaze makes more sense now; the voice that sounds from behind you's far too annoying for it not to belong to trouble.

You hear laughter and another voice reply with, "I don't know, Brayan. What?"

Brayan fakes a swoon and attempts to mimic what you can only assume is Sans's voice, saying, "Oh, you're the exact opposite of me -- all fat and no bones. What a catch!"

More laughter.

"Wait, wait," Kevin says, voice now heard from closer by. "I've- I've gotta good follow-up to that one." Even more obnoxious laughter's heard from him, and a not-so adorable snort comes from Brayan. "I might be fat, but you're the real pig here -- liking me only because of those weird tastes of yours!"

"What's bothering you, mi chicharrón*? You're my type. I'm only saying the truth!

"And I'm done with you, you bonehead!"

One of the two men emerge next to Sans and attempts to push him off his chair to follow-up to their impromptu play, with enough flamboyance and sass to make Shakespeare proud.

You step in, grabbing by the arm who you assume's Kevin and keeping him from finishing his joke. He freezes, though he soon recovers, a grin replacing his surprise. "Hey look, Brayan," he calls out. "Piggy's all angry now!"

Done too quick for you to react, you feel something cold pour over your chest and look to your left to see Brayan with a grin on his face and with an empty glass left on his hand. "Cool off," he says, laughing. 

Before you can process it, something trips his feet and sends his donkey to the ground. 

Both your drink and the skeleton's end up thrown on him as a familiar blue aura surrounds both of the glasses. 

"Wh- What the hell, man?" he shouts, flustered. "Who did that?!"

The human owner of the establishment appears right behind him and brings him into an arm lock. She's just as formally dressed as the bear waiter; a long red dress matches with her lipstick and does the opposite with her light skin and bright ginger hair. The name ‘Jessica’ is spelled neatly on her name tag. "Sounds to me like you're the one who needs to cool off first," she says, pulling him to his feet. Her teeth are clenched and a frown shapes her mouth. "Tell your friend he needs to follow me if he doesn't want the same treatment." She drags both men along with her, leaving you alone with Sans -- plus an audience too big for your liking. 

The brown bear makes his appearance again. A mess of apologies exit his mouth as he rushes over with two new drinks and a towel hung over his shoulder. Sans helps him by taking the latter and approaching your side.

"You okay?" he asks. Carefully, he sets the towel over you, hands moving stiff and awkward when he tries to wrap it around your torso. You bite back a smile at that, his current reticence helping you forget about Brayan and Kevin's actions. Even with how daring he was while flirting, he was inevitably trying his best not to cross unwanted lines with you. "Was it hot?"

Stop.

That word repeats itself over and over in your mind as you use the towel to pull him closer to you, his hands still holding onto it. You take them, let him hold onto your waist, and allow your smile to shine through, heart pounding all the while. "No," you reply, grinning. "But you worrying about me kinda is." You kiss his cheekbone, murmuring a 'thank you, Sans' close to his ear cavity.

The crowd goes wild, whistles and woots being let out as you keep your lips there for a moment, right until you feel his skull turn hot to the touch. When you pull back, his irises are wide, jumpy, and bright, these trying their best to look away from you. He lets go of the towel, steps back, and sits down on his chair while the crowd settles out.

"Uh..." he mutters, short of breath. "No problem, (Y/N)."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

*mi (my) chicharrón = Fried pork belly or rinds; a pork dish/snack originating from Hispanic countries.

In this case, it's used as a nickname, like honey, sugar, dear, and all that!

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

[dyed-red]

4 songs

I was tagged about a million years ago by the lovely bulb (@flashbulb-memory​) to list 4 songs I’ve been listening to recently. 

I’m sort of the opposite of a music connoisseur and my tastes are eclectic but I’ll pick out a few songs that I either keep coming back to recently or which are playing in the back of my head more than usual.

1. Keep Me, by Khalid

A sort of upbeat melancholy piece about parting ways but keeping each other in one’s heart, in one’s thoughts, in one’s conversations. It reminds me of young love and summer’s end, and the vibe pulls at my heartstrings even if there’s this sense that the singer is trying to hold on to something that’s already passed by and can’t be kept.

2. White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane

I’ve always been pretty bad at remembering song names and artists and all of it. White Rabbit is an incredibly famous song, but about six months ago if you’d asked me if I’d ever heard it before, I’d have said I have no recollection of it. Despite that -- I wrote it into Desiderata. 

I like to texture my writing with little character details as much as I can in a way that won’t distract from the narrative. I was writing about Sam picking up on Dean’s tension and stress, and figured that music would be one of the cues Sam knows like a second language, different songs with different meanings for Dean’s moods. I didn’t want Zepp or Metallica or ACDC so looked into Blue Oyster Cult and then Jefferson Airplane, and some googling told me White Rabbit was a popular song with a unique sort of beat that Dean could be tapping, and that was that.

And then the song was used in the new Matrix trailer several months ago and I was like “oooooh I love this what is it?” and lmao, oh. It’s a song I’ve literally read the wikipedia article for but somehow neglected to actually listen to. Derp.

Anyway so now I’m obsessed.

3. Blood in the Cut by K. Flay

A friend introduced me to K. Flay’s music back in 2015 and the refrain of needing noise has been somewhat relatable to me as I try to use music more to stimulate my brain and find more optimal levels of stimulation to help me focus. When I’m tense and vibrating out of my skin, I too need the bass of a subwoofer to chill out.

4. Rodeo by Lil Nas X featuring Cardi B.

Other than just an absolute banger, this has the line “Rather see you in a hearse than see you with some other bitch” and honestly it makes me crazy. The blatant unrepentant possessive violence of it is excellent writing fodder.

Bonus:

I’ve also been into emo recently to help get the tone right for WIPs I’m working on, both Desiderata and others in the background, including Folded at the Edges. 

So go listen to American Football or Car Seat Headrest

Tagging (zero pressure and also encourage anyone else who wants to do it to go for it!):

@peach-coke​ @wincest-endgame​ @brotherwives​ @fallcolorspringrapid​

[snarkwrites]

summer sizzle | disaster, steve harrington [m]

[ prompts used ]

** again, all of these were found on different lists across the internet. literally none of them belong to me and i will have to try finding the lists these all came from at some point. credits to anyone who made these prompt lists **

Disaster + “S-stop staring at me like that!” + Say My Name + comfort sex + One Small Kiss, Pulling Away For An Instant, Then Devouring Each Other

[ authors notes ]

This is the alternate universe to my whole thing with Steve and Charlotte. At some point, I do plan to write an actual fic for them. In the meantime, I’m gonna build things up through one shots and stuff. If anyone’s curious, pls ask away, my ask box is open.

[ warnings ]

18+ only. All children, leave the room. I repeat, all children, leave the room. underage drinking a lil bit, biting / leaving hickies, body fluids, oral [ both parties give and recieve ], protected sex and that’s pretty much it.

[ pairing / fandom ]

steve harrington x ofc, charlotte granger

[ tagging ]

@rampagewriting​​ | @chasingeverybreakingwave​​

[ tag list - masterlist - about my writing ]

                                     D I S A S T E R - steve harrington x ofc,

“You really should slow down with that.” Steve popped up beside me and it only made me that much more determined to chug the bottle of rum in my hands. If I had alcohol in my mouth, I didn’t have to try conversing. I didn’t risk just grabbing his face in my hands and laying a kiss on him that would only result in making everything even more awkward between the two of us than it already is.

I sat the bottle down on the tabletop firmly, wiping at my mouth with the back of my hand as I swayed a little to the music. I could feel the rabbit ears on my headband slipping and I swore, reaching up. Steve swatted my hands away and reached over, fixing the way they stood, bending one of them ever so slightly. He stepped a little closer, the limited space between us filling with heavy tension.

It seemed to do that a lot lately.

He nodded to the crowded party. “I thought you came with Byers to pick up Nancy.”

I shrugged and raised the bottle to my lips, taking another drink, swallowing it down before I answered quietly, “I decided to stay. I didn’t want to feel like a third wheel on my own date.”

As neutral as I tried to sound when saying it, I failed miserably. The sarcasm laced into my words and Steve’s head tilted slightly as he just… stared at me. Like he was in deep thought and dazed.

“If you’re going to be weird, I’m going to go do keg stands.” I muttered the words quietly and took a step forward. That step put me body to body with Steve whose hands immediately settled on my hips as his eyes roamed and he didn’t bother trying to hide it.

“Bad date?” Steve asked, giving me a bit of a weak smile as our eyes met.

I snorted. “More like a complete fucking disaster from the word go.”

Steve snickered and I pouted at him, lips poking out.

“I’m glad to see my sheer misery makes you laugh. Asshole.” I started to try and side step but he stopped me, staring deep into my eyes again and not saying anything.

Until finally, he did. Pulling me closer because a crowd rushed past, whooping and hollering because someone was about to do keg stands again in the next room. I blew at a bright red strand of loose bangs that flopped into my eye and tilted my head slightly, looking at him.

“It’s not your misery, okay? I was laughing cos..” Steve trailed off, eyes settling fixed on the floor beneath our feet. I raised a brow and honestly, I meant to just walk away, beyond done with the night by this point, but something about the way he fell silent had my interest piqued.

“Why?” I asked the question as my hand settled on my hip. Steve was staring at the black velvet strapless bodysuit I was wearing, at the fishnets covering my legs, anything but my actual face. Distracted, as usual. I rolled my eyes and cleared my throat impatiently.

“ The fact that Nancy just broke up with me. I don’t know, I guess it’s just my reaction to a shitty night.” the explanation sounded feeble, but I said nothing.

It hit me then, what he’d just said.

I eyed him in concern, going quiet. I took a few big back to back sips of the rum in my hand and gritted my teeth, shaking my head all over again at the burn as I glanced at the bottle for a second or two, just to keep from staring at him like an ass, as is my tendency as of late.

And yes, I feel like the world’s most horrible friend for it.

“They say this stuff goes down smoother the more you sip it. I call bullshit.” I mumbled, mostly to myself, mostly just to keep that heavy tension from creeping back in between Steve and I all over again.

Steve reached for the bottle and raised it to his lips, shotgunning a generous portion as he shrugged.

“Fucking show off.” I grumbled, reaching for the bottle and nearly falling forward as I did so.

Steve stepped closer, hands at my side after sitting the bottle of rum down on the table nearby. “Are you alright?”

“Shh. Don’t kill my buzz.” I held a finger to his lips as I giggled a little bit. Someone put on Aerosmith and I bounced on my feet a little, grinning from ear to ear about it. When my eyes met his again, he was staring at me, an almost thoughtful expression on his face.

“S-stop staring at me like that!” I drawled, starting to sway my hips a little to the song playing in the background.

“What if I don’t wanna?” Steve practically mumbled the question, his gaze growing more intent. Roaming even more. Lingering on my body just long enough to set my body to burning immediately.

I threw my head back and laughed at what he said, the laughter dying on my lips as my eyes met his again and I realized that he wasn’t joking. He had his most serious facial expression on. And he was stepping closer, towering over me just  barely. Fingertips digging into the thin black velvet fabric covering my body.  His hips rubbing right against mine, making me swallow hard and sort of melt into him just so I didn’t have to look at him and increase the risk of him figuring out exactly what he was doing to me at the moment.

“Tonight is really a disaster, huh?” I managed to mumble, mostly for lack of anything better to say and wanting to vanquish the tension before it got so fucking thick I couldn’t breathe. I could already feel my legs getting a little  more wobbly, my thighs getting just a little slippery. Just the thought of him… In that way… had me burning up all over in a heated blush for at least the tenth time since he’d wandered over an hour or two ago.

I’ve shoved this thing down so deep that now that it’s bubbling up to the surface, it takes literally all my willpower from stopping it.

Steve continued to stare, his gaze fixing on my lips as he licked his own. He swallowed hard and my eyes settled on the way his throat bobbed. I did my best not to indulge myself and imagine dancing my lips down his throat.

“The night’s not over yet.” his voice almost sounded husky. Laced with something I couldn’t quite figure out.

When he finally said it, he was standing so close that I was pressed against him, bodies rubbing together lightly. Mostly to steady myself in the stupid heels I chose to wear with my costume, I raised my arms, wrapping them around his neck.

“True, but.. Our dates did leave together.” I pointed out the fact, sighing quietly. I mean… I’m the one who told Jonathan to worry about getting Nancy home safe, that I wanted to stay and hang out with Briar and a few of the other girls and that I’d be fine.

,, you told him to leave you because maybe you’re starting to realize that he’s more into Nancy. So you’re cutting your losses.” my brain reminded me. I literally have no reason to be bitter right now, and yet.. Here I go.

Between Nancy dating Steve even knowing our history and how I had a crush on him and how tense things were when he stopped being friends with me.. And her suddenly having so much to do with Jonathan right when I’ve decided that maybe it’s time to let go of old crushes… I’d almost swear she was doing it deliberately if I didn’t know otherwise.

“I told Nancy to go.” Steve admitted, shrugging a little, a weak smile as he looked down at me. “She didn’t wanna be here with me anyway.”

I bit my lip, nodding at him as I found my own eyes settling on thick lips. Lips I desperately wanted to kiss.

My fingertips seemed to grow minds of their own, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

In the room behind us, the noise seemed to grow, people were getting rowdier. But all I could do was continue to stare,  trying to figure out why he’d even come over to me in the first place.

“Honestly, I could tell Jonathan had other things on his mind tonight. I was just in the way.” I shrugged it off and took a deep breath. More people pushed past us, putting us even closer together. I bit back a quiet whimper and felt myself starting to blush. He chuckled and gazed down at me a few seconds, that look in his eye all over again.

“What? Do I have lipstick on my teeth?” I asked the question and raised my hand, prepared to wipe at my mouth. This red lipstick, while pretty, was a huge pain in my ass. But it made the costume seem even more appropriate… Or inappropriate. Whatever.

“No, I was just thinking.. Something Nancy said after she broke up with me and called basically everything about us bullshit before demanding to leave… About you.”

I swallowed hard, my breath catching in my  throat, but as best as I could, I tried to downplay. To feign an air of total neutrality. My best blank look on my face, casual.. Appearing not to be affected by Steve and his.. Everything.

“Yeah?” I asked, walking a finger up and down the front of his black button front shirt. He squirmed slightly and kept staring down at me intently, letting his gaze drop to my finger for a lingering distracted few seconds. The tension in the air was getting so much thicker. I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t deny it.

Shit, did I sound breathless? The thought came but I shoved it out, clearing my throat, guiding his gaze so that he had to look at me. “What’d she say?” I finally managed to ask the question, trying to steer this whole… Bizarre moment away from the heavy tension it was fast approaching.

“It wasn’t anything bad.” Steve said it quickly and I bit my lip, waiting.

“After she told me that everything was bullshit, she told me that I was with the wrong girl and I’m kind of…” he trailed off again, leaning down, his face getting closer to mine. My breath caught again and this time, I didn’t try hiding the fact. “Yeah?” the word came quick and clumsy as my face inched closer to his.

And my lips promptly brushed against the corner of his mouth clumsily. I drew back quick but his hands caught on either side of my face, pulling my lips directly back to his. “Where are you goin, hm?” he half growled the question against my lips as his mouth crashed against and hungrily devoured mine. One of his hands dragged up my back, catching in my hair, tangling in it as he gripped the back of my head and his other hand rested on my cheek, a thumb trailing lazily along my cheek after the kiss broke.

We slowly pulled apart, staring at one another wide eyed. He was quick to lean back in, chuckling as he bit his bottom lip and stared hungrily at mine a second or two. “She was right. It has always been you, I just…” he dragged his hand through his hair as he took several shaky breaths.

It suddenly seemed to occur to him just how little I was wearing and the next thing I knew, he was shedding his blazer and putting it around me, even going as far as to button a few buttons.

“Steve.” I whined, pouting up at him as he shook his head no. “No, nope. That costume is, “ he gestured to me, “Too fucking much. What are you supposed to be anyway?”

“A bunny.” I was intentionally being vague. Honestly, I figured he’d put two and two together.

Apparently, he did not.

“I’ve been wearing this the entire time you’ve been standing here and you’re just now seeing it? Ya know.. If I were easily offended, I could take offense to that. I happen to like it. And it belonged to my grandma Ginger.” I did a little twirl to sort of show off the costume, maybe rubbing it in just a little.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.. Bunnies are covered in fur and their noses wiggle, Charlotte. That is.. Fuck me, it is something, alright...” he was tugging at his hair again and gazing down at me and I succumbed to the fit of giggles that had been threatening to take over for at least a minute or two by this point.

Typical Steve… Getting so caught in a moment that he really doesn’t notice his surroundings until he does. Then he’s in sheer awe or shock.

“Anyway, I was in the middle of something.” Steve was trying to get whatever he was making an attempt to say out and I stood there, head tilted slightly, watching him and barely hiding the little smile I had as I did it. “You were, if you’d kindly just get to it.”

“Maybe we could do this outside? Where I can hear myself think?” Steve pleaded and I gave a nod. I honestly assumed he’d let me walk out. No. The next thing I know, I’m being scooped up and carried out the door of Billy Hargrove’s house and he didn’t put me down until we were standing beside his BMW.

“Better now?” I couldn’t hide my amusement at this point.

He stuck his tongue out at me and took a few long and shaky breaths, rubbing his face. “I think so, yeah. Okay. Now where was I?”

“Steve, c’mon. Just say whatever it is. This is me you’re talking to. I’ve known you since we were five. Out with it already.” I pleaded, toying with his shirt as he stopped pacing in favor of standing in front of me, staring down. Hungrily. His pupils were shot, almost blacking out the brown of his eyes. I gulped as I stared right back up at him, wondering if he was going to come out with whatever this was, my breath catching in my throat when his hips brushed right against my lower body and instead of moving away a little, Steve proceeded to step even closer, my back pressing right against the cold exterior of his car, the handle digging into my lower back just a little.

“Nancy was right.” Steve’s voice came out quietly, almost awestruck. I fidgeted slightly, my gaze dropping to the heels I was wearing briefly. He wasn’t having it, he reached out, fingers lightly gripping my chin as his face moved closer to mine all over again. “You’re the one I actually love. And I had no idea until Nancy, she…” he was talking faster now, almost as if he were afraid of what my reaction might be.

When what he was saying really hit me, I melted into him, going just a little clingy. “Yeah.. the last time we kind of argued… she threw that up at me too. Something about both of us being almost comically oblivious about things.” I agreed, the words coming quick, almost tumbling out one right on top of the other. I was a little shaky and I couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the way it felt pressing against him or the overwhelming realization we’d both just had.

When he rubbed against me lightly just to try and get even closer, I let out a ragged breath and looked up at him.

“Steve?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, princess?” Steve muttered, his gaze fixing on my lips as his tongue slowly crawled along the outline of his mouth. His fingertips were digging into my hips now and I gasped when I felt him strained against dark jeans. It was distracting enough I couldn’t think straight.

“I wanna get out of here.” I barely managed to breathlessly respond.

“Me too.” his mouth brushed against the corner of mine lazily and his hands crept down my sides, squeezing when they stopped at my hips. I raised a leg, letting it settle on his hip and his hand left my hip to wander down and squeeze my thigh as he did it again, clumsily rocking himself right against me, drawing a whimper out of me.

“Where do you want to go?” Steve asked as he tilted my chin, guiding my gaze back up to him. “I just want to be alone with you…” he mumbled against my forehead, making me shiver at the way it felt when his lips brushed my skin. “Just wanna talk. Make up for lost time.” his words had me smiling a little, biting my lip and nodding in agreement. I did too. We had so much to talk about and straighten out. And I wanted cuddles. I wouldn’t mind many more kisses like the one we shared inside the party, either.

Among other things.

“Well, anywhere we go, I’m going to be sneaking back in.” I gave a soft giggle as I met his gaze and watched the smile grow.

“You went all bad girl on me, Charlie.”

“I most certainly did not. I’m protesting my curfew.”

“My house then? I mean, if you want to go. We’d actually be able to be alone. Not like here, with all these fucking people.”  Steve chuckled as he gave a half annoyed gesture back towards Billy’s crowded house. I blushed and looked up at him, nodding in agreement.

“Let’s just go.” I answered, letting him help me into the passenger seat of his car then gripping hold of his shirt and pulling him down into me, crashing my lips against his yet again. My mouth strayed, gingerly grazing against the side of his neck and he gave a quiet groan, his fingers digging into the back of my seat as he whined against my throat, “Charlotte, this isn’t getting us to my place.”

“I know but I couldn’t resist.” I answered, my eyes fluttering open and shut as I felt his teeth dig into my neck lightly. He smirked against my skin and finally pulled away, shutting the door to my side of the car in a hurry, then rushing around to the driver seat, getting in.

The drive to his house was quiet. The tension between us had shifted from awkward to heavy… filled with want. Things we hadn’t managed to say to each other just yet. Things we needed to say.

As we came to a stop beneath one of few redlights in town, his fingers skimmed my thighs, resting, squeezing a little as he looked over at me. I leaned in, my mouth crashing against his. His lips fell open and his tongue swept out, colliding with mine as his hand crept just a little higher and he breathed into the kiss, “This is okay, right?”

“Mhm.” I hummed against his mouth, squirming and rocking myself against the touch of his hand when it brushed against my velvet covered crotch. He growled quietly, his lips latching onto my bottom one, sucking until I could feel it aching and I was panting and begging, a squirmy whining mess in my seat.

“Want you so bad. So bad.” he muttered as he pulled away, staring at me with a lust filled gaze, letting out several drawn out and shaky breaths as if he were trying to calm himself down.

There was no calming me down at this point. I leaned across the console keeping us separate and gripped his jaw, pulling his mouth against mine. “You realize that to an extent, you’ve always had me, right?”

That smile, the bright goofy one, it crept to his mouth and he pulled back, just staring at me, our breathing all ragged and the windows of his car starting to fog up. He reached out and gripped my hips, guiding me over the console into his lap. His lips grazed my forehead and he mumbled softly against it, “You weren’t close enough.”

I looked up at him. “And now?”

“It’ll work until we finally manage to get inside.” Steve laughed softly, his hands at either side of my face, already leaning in for another kiss. I deepened it, my hand raising, my fingers catching in and tugging at thick hair. When he pouted against my mouth because I’d messed his hair up, I gave his top lip a playful nip and muttered with a quiet giggle, “You better get used to it.”

“You’re a lot bossier than I remember.” he mused, chuckling and adding as an afterthought, “ I kinda like it anyway.” about the way I just sort of carelessly played with his hair.

I rocked against his lap a little, getting bolder. Feeling the relief of everything being out in the open at last. His head fell back against the seat’s headrest and he groaned, bucking up into me from below, his hands skimming over my body, not staying in one place too long. His mouth breaking from mine to drag slowly down my throat and neck, briefly catching my earlobe. “We should really get inside.” he half groaned against the shell of my ear as his lips started to stray gently down the side of my neck all over again, latching on here and there, leaving marks behind.

I pulled back and rocked myself against him, giving a pout as I begged quietly, “Please?”

“Ya mean that’s a word you actually know, Charlotte?” Steve teased gently as he opened the door to the car and stepped out, stopping to adjust his grip on me. I wrapped my legs and arms around him and his mouth met mine all over again as he made his way up the walkway leading into his house. My back met the front door with a quiet smack and I climbed out of his arms, making him pout at me as my fingers toyed with the buttons on his black shirt, finally just pulling it open and sending a dusting of buttons plinking quietly against concrete. He chuckled quietly, watching a button settle and then his eyes were fixed firmly back on mine. And before I could even get a word out or take another breath, I was back in his arms and he was unlocking the door with as much haste as he could, his mouth latched onto mine as we stepped through the door and into the living room of his house.

His hand shot out, feeling the wall for the light switch without bothering to break the ongoing kiss. I could feel my lips swelling and the more I rubbed against him and whimpered, the more he growled quietly into my mouth. He finally found the light switch and my back met the couch. I reached up, trying to pull him down to my level and he chuckled when I pulled too hard and we wound up a tangle of limbs on the couch, faces bumping when we went back in for a kiss at the same time.

“Ouch. Your nose is pointy.” Steve laughed against my mouth.

“And? Yours is pointier, Steve.” I giggled. Our foreheads met and he bit his lip, staring down at me intently. A finger raising to catch gently in the necklace around my neck. The smile grew, softening as soon as he realized exactly what the necklace was.

It was a locket he’d gotten me when we were kids. Back before popularity and ‘eww, a girl can’t be your best friend. If she is, you must like her..” came into play. He got it for me on a birthday. I’d put a picture of my dad in one side and a picture of my grandparents in the other and the locket literally never left my neck, despite me keeping it hidden most of the time. It was the first truly nice thing anyone who wasn’t in my family had done and I guess after I put the pictures of people I loved the most inside, it made it easy for me to not take it off.

“You still have this?” his words came out in tender gasps against my mouth, then my throat. “I figured you probably put it away.” his hands were roaming back down my body all over again, squeezing my hips and making me rub against him. I drew a sharp gasp and bit my lip, staring up at him as I shook my head. My fingers carded his scalp, tugging at his hair and he groaned, bucking against me a little, both of us stopping to catch our breath.

My hand lowered, toying with the waistband of his pants and he stared at me. Our eyes locked and I muttered quietly, “I don’t want to stop.” as I unbuttoned his pants and then unzipped them, fingers shaky as I tugged pants and underwear down at the same time. Steve kicked them off after kicking off his shoes and after letting his eyes roam over me slowly, licking his lips,he breathed out against my throat, “Me either.”  an arm going beneath me as he rocked against me more slowly, his fingers searching for the zip to the back of the bodysuit. When he finally found it, he gave a quiet and triumphant laugh, tugging at the zip eagerly as his mouth latched onto my throat and I sat up a little bit, leaning into him, wiggling out of the bodysuit as best as I could until he stopped me, shaking his head. “I’m supposed to do that, babe. Let me.”

He took his time, lowering the bodysuit until my breath was coming in short gasps and I was pleading for more, scooting closer to him, just trying to push for any more friction than I was currently getting. When he got the bodysuit down to my hips, I slipped off the couch, slowly wiggling the body suit down to my ankles, slowly kicking it free. I bent down, pulling off the impossibly high heels and Steve sat there, eyes glued to my body, biting his lip and bucking against air as he whistled quietly and rubbed his chin. My hands roamed down my body, fingertips lingering lazily in a pair of black panties but he was on his feet, moving towards me in a split second, his hand brushing mine out of the way. He started to step closer, making me step back until my knees brushed the back of the couch and then I found myself on my back again, Steve positioning himself between my legs, staring up at me with lust blown eyes as he worked the clasps free from the garters that held my stockings in place and connected them to my panties.

“What the hell were you thinkin, wearing this out tonight?” His eyes met mine as he asked the question, daring to lower his head and dance his lips against my upper thigh. It sent a shiver down my body and I whimpered as my head fell back.

“Honest answer?” I asked breathlessly.

“I’d prefer it, yeah.” Steve answered, waiting expectantly. He made it really clear that I was not getting out of giving an answer.

With a few shaky breaths and my eyes fluttering shut for a second as he placed more kitten licks against my skin, I finally managed to answer “I wanted to look hot. And rub your face in it.”

“Even though you came with Byers to pick up Nancy…” Steve stared down at me, smirking a little as things began to click into place a lot better. “Oh.. Oh… So all that sarcasm was what? An act?”

“Nancy’s my best friend. I couldn’t hurt her, okay? I thought she...I thought she loved you and you guys were happy or whatever… So yeah.” I answered honestly, catching his gaze. It was the truth, now that I was finally allowing myself to admit it. Sure, I’d been hurt by Steve back then, but then he and Nancy started dating and I just… couldn’t deal with it. So I blamed the pain. Just to keep myself from feeling things again.

A desperate attempt to keep him at arms length.

“And now?” Steve eyed me, waiting on an answer. Since we were getting it all out, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I took a deep breath and a few seconds and finally, I spoke up to answer. “Now things might be different… Better. At least I hope they can be?” I bit my lip and answered quietly, reaching up to pull his mouth down to mine. Steve nipped at my lips until I could feel them swell on impact.

“Much better. I promise, babe.” Steve reassured me as he rose up again, working the fishnets down my legs. I wiggled them off my feet and they settled on the living room floor. Then he was back at it, intently focused on just how slowly he could peel down my panties. Just how much he could make me whimper and beg for him to hurry while locking eyes with me, a teasing gleam in his eyes.

I dragged my fingers through his hair as he lowered his head, his lips lazily settling on my lower abdomen stopping mid lick  just as he got my panties down my thigh to gaze back up at me and lick his lips.

“Steve, c’mon… Please?” I begged.

He took a deep breath, lowering himself even more, arms hooking beneath my legs, spreading me open wider. My legs settled over each of his shoulders and I shivered and giggled softly as I felt his mouth roaming up my calves. By the time he reached the sides of my knees, I was biting my lip and trying to squirm beneath him and I could feel myself getting wetter with each little kitten lick and gentle nip against the surface of my skin. I could hear his breath catch in his throat and he glanced up at me, licking his lips before lowering his mouth again, the soft groan shattering the air as his tongue rolled right up my center in one broad stripe. My fingers curled in the leather couch, desperately trying to find anything to clutch hold of as his lips locked over my clit and I felt him starting to suck and lick. My toes curling as my hips arched upward under his muttered command and my head fell back even further, despite my best efforts to stay at least partially upright to watch him.

“So sweet.” he muttered against my dripping and aching core, his tongue circling my clit one last time before slowly moving downward, two fingers slipping into me deep, working me open and scissoring gently, massaging. His tongue plunged deep inside and my whimpers and moans came almost breathless as I felt my insides tensing, the ache that had settled in a while ago only building further. I rocked my hips against his mouth and fingers and he growled against my core, teeth grazing against, the sucking and wet sounds of his mouth competing with my quiet whimpers, moans and gasps. The harder I tried to curl my toes or grip the couch, the more futile it proved to actually be. I was finally resorting to resting my hand on the top of his head, fingers tugging at his hair. I tensed a little more and he stopped to lock eyes with me, his lips and chin glistening with my juices, licking his lips slowly. “Let go, babe.”

I didn’t need any further urging. The orgasm ripped through me, leaving me shaky and moaning his name over and over as I raised a hand and dragged it through my hair. My mouth fell open and I had a hard time catching my breath for a solid few seconds. Steve was pulling himself up my body and leaning in for a kiss. I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him down closer to me, my mouth meeting his hungrily, a quiet moan at the taste of myself on his lips. Then as the kiss broke, I pulled back, nodding to the way his cock stood at attention. I licked my lips slowly and reached out, pushing him back, lightly straddling him. His hands caught on my body, digging and scraping and when my mouth left his to work down the front of his throat slowly, he arched against me, making me hiss as his cock grazed right between my folds gently. “Babe?”

“My turn now, Steve.” I drawled quietly as my tongue danced over his chest, then in a line down his abdomen. His fingers caught in my hair and when my lips caught on the tip of his cock, tongue rolling across slowly, savoring the taste of him as it filled my mouth, he whimpered. I glanced up at him, biting my lip and making my way back up to lean down and press my mouth against his, pulling us deep into another kiss that didn’t end until neither of us could breathe properly. The entire time, I could feel his cock nudging against my throbbing cunt and I whined against his lips “Steve, it’s my turn.”

“I’m not stopping you.” he teased, that lazy grin coming with ease as we locked eyes. I poked out my tongue at him and he raised a hand, catching hold of my jaw, guiding my mouth back to his as he muttered quietly, “Kissing you is probably going to be an addiction.”

“I’m not complaining.” I mused breathlessly as I started to crawl back down him again, settling between his legs, lowering my head. When I took his length deep in my mouth, my tongue rolling slowly over the entire length, he gripped my hair tighter, bucking his hips against my mouth gently. “Fuck.” he groaned, a warning tone to his voice as he reached down, tilting my head to make me stop. “Easy, princess.” he groaned out shakily. I bit my lip and nodded before locking my lips around his length again, the suction causing a quiet pop as I worked my mouth over every single inch. Steve was really starting to squirm and finally, I felt him tugging at my hair as he cleared his throat. When I looked up, catching my breath, he gripped my jaw again, guiding my mouth to his.

“C’mon up here, princess.” Steve reached down to the spot his pants landed at on the living room floor and after blindly digging in a pocket while not breaking the kiss, he held up a foil covered square, ripping at the corner with his teeth and spitting the torn edge out. I reached out, my hand circling his, guiding the condom into my own hand and I pulled it out of it’s packaging, giving a soft giggle. Steve bit his lip and leaned up and in slightly, muttering a soft, “What am I gonna do with you, hm?” as he gave me a gentle and loving kiss that deepened to a point where neither of us were breathing on their own anymore as it began to break. I worked the condom down over his length, giving a gentle pump or two after I finished, making him buck against my hand and start to whine as he pulled me back up his body, into his lap.

I sank down on his cock, a quiet whimper leaving my lips as I felt myself being stretched out and split in two. My hands raised, one going to the hair at the nape of his neck and the other to his shoulders, my fingertips digging in lightly as I stayed still and let myself get used to the way he felt inside me.

His hands gripped my hips and his mouth crashed against mine, his teeth tugging at my lower lip in the heat of a messy kiss. He started to pump me up and down, bucking into me from below and I moaned loud enough that it echoed in the nearly silent house.

“Ah, fuck.. Steve. Faster.” I begged breathlessly, but my begging seemed to fall on deaf ears as Steve seemed to be determined on fucking into me long, slow and deep drives. His mouth strayed from mine, little kitten licks and nips against my skin as his mouth marched down the front of my throat. His hands left my hips, moving up the curve of my body, stopping at the sides of my tits, squeezing them together as he dove his mouth down, letting it lazily latch onto my nipple and started to fuck into me from below just a little faster. I whimpered and rocked my hips back and forth, making him grip me even tighter, his movements growing a little jerky, a lot faster. “Charlotte, whoa.. Slower, baby. I’m gonna blow.” he warned, his voice a husky purr against my skin as he fixed pleading eyes on me.

But I couldn’t stop. Another orgasm was building with each deeper drive. I trie dto slow down, peppering his face and lips with little kisses and nipping at his neck, sucking to leave a mark or two behind. My head fell back as I continued to bounce up and down on his cock, getting faster and faster. By the time I really felt myself tensing up all over and the orgasm threatening to take over at any second, his hips stuttered and his cock bottomed out, striking against my spot a time or two that literally almost had me seeing stars. “Steve, p-please. Don’t you dare stop.”

“Oh, I’m not planning on it, princess. I kind of can’t.” Steve continued to plow into me from below, holding my hips hard enough to leave light bruising behind. His other hand wandered up, tangling in the back of my hair, giving a few gentle tugs that sent me whimpering and moaning as my orgasm shattered through at his quietly urging, “C’mon, princess.. Ride me. Get it all out. Wanna.. Wanna feel you, oh god.” and his lips really latched onto my neck, just below my earlobe. I felt my walls clench around his length, continued bouncing up and down on his cock, slowing down just a little as I clutched at his chest and dug my fingers into his shoulders and my head fell back. 

My orgasm shattered through me a second time and I moaned his name over and over. Steve chuckled and leaned up to mumble against my skin “Ready for me?” after a few minutes of letting me ride out the high of my orgasm and I nodded, going clingy and melting against him. He smoothed his hands over my hair and muttered quietly, “There you go, baby.. Just hold on to me.” as he directed my mouth towards his and swallowed up my moans and whimpers in a long and slow kiss as he started to really fuck into me from below, striking right against my spot a time or two, making me really moan as I held on. The kiss broke just as I could feel him throbbing, filling the condom and making me wet all over again.

His forehead pressed against mine as we both clung to each other, trying to catch our breath. He muttered softly against my mouth, “I heard your stomach growl… Want anything?”

“Just to stay like this a little longer.” I yawned lazily, leaning against him, practically molded to his body.

[prpledusk]

NOBODIES AND WHODUNNIT

Ok so theory time.

I recently made a post about vexen, infact the lil labrats been on my mind as of recently surprise to some but eh I do me, but having been thinking about miste4 walking chemical bath I have been bombarded with thoughts on the rg crew as a whole and me being me the rabbit holes dig themselves.

Dear god Im still falling but to put it lightly for the rest of you kh schmucks I think I just came to the conclusion that the rg crew cannot be held responsible at all for the betrayel of ansem the wise. The reasons why shall be explained.

Firstly we must take a look at the victem of this crime, ansem himself as its his statements on the event that we have to go off for this whole hoohah and lemme just point out something that I never notice anyone ever bring up when it comes to the betrayal.

Ansem, more specifically diz, is completely UNRELIABLE.

For one Ansem as diz spent most of his time trying trying to get the kh kiddys to murder the nobodies for the sake of vengeance and typically I wouldnt trust the word of a man whose willing to dehumanize and murder the fuck outta some kids for the sake of getting back at his coworkers as just a general rule. Seconed, Ansems knowlege on nobodies not only seems to be extensivly wrong but he also even outright lies at some points in order to get Roxas and Riku to do as he pleases, pretending to be tiddy ansem in order to get riku to not only attack said coworkers but to get riku to use darkness against said co-workers, this mother fucker didnt even fuckin blink when Riku was about to yeet his sword into Zexions skull like a fuckin javelin and had no problems with Riku getting so infected by darkness that it began physically turning him into ansem.

Not to mention Ansems himself streight up admitted that he wasnt in his right state of mind and his blind hatred and want for revenge streight up changed him into something else so literally everything he says and this includes anything mentioned about his old co-workers can be taken with a grain of salt.

Seconed, theres two questions that need to be answered.

1: when did the scene in ddd with terranort doing the stabby stab to the crew.

And 2: *Why* did the betrayel happen.

The first first question helps to answer the seconed. Specifically if that scene happened BEFORE the betrayel took place. If after I then the betrayel makes no fucking sense.

My reasons being that from what we're given there is literally no fucking reason for the rg crew to betray ansem. Literally everyone ((accept braig)) seems to have a high amount of respect and even love for the guy and dont really seem to have issue with him.

Lex: seems to still retain loyalty to Zexion and for the most part kept his soft spoken stalwart nature even as a nobody.

Zexion: baby

Dilan: literally almost began crying at Ansems return

Even: put himself in harms way to redeem himself, was trusted by ansem enough to be dad number2 and as far as we know was ansems head scientist. (And dont gimme that FOR SCIENCE bull shit, vexen was a slut for science but even knew when to use the safeword dammit)

None of them are shown to have any reason to dislike or want Ansem gone so exactly why would they betray him???

The answer:

They didnt have a fuckin choice.

Because theres a wee thing that the fandom forgot about.

Zombification.

As seen with Roxas, Xion, and even Axel has mentioned he and the othere whent through it, when you become a nobody you're basically a zombie. Head empty, no thoughts, not even a name. Your just an empty shell running on autopilot.

And as shown by Roxas and Xion, when you through the zombie phase? Your more subseptable to suggestions, your basically an entirely different person, and you have no idea who or what the fuck you are.

This lack of agency, this blankbrain? Easy to take advantage of. I think its entirely possible that terranort yeeted everyones hearts, took advantage of the zombie process and had the grew toss ansem in their nonemotive states. This not only would explain why everyone did the betrayel dispite not having reason to but also why when they all got their hearts back it hit Vexen extra hard, enough to go full nobody again, put himself in more danger, and proceed to fuck over the real org in the background and rescue ansem.

So in other words the crew literally had no choice but to go along with it, any agency they could have had in the situation was robbed of them the moment the stab happened so fuck.

This just makes it all extra sad. Since most likely the "they" ienzo was referring to when it came to saying someone told him ansem was mad, most likely that was either Lex or Vex so most likely they realized what they did later, realized it was a bad, but didnt care enough to fix it cause ya know lolno<3 amd decided to instead tell the kid a kind lie to spare him the truth of what they did. So in a sense their bonds with ienzo made it through the whole becoming nobodies thing.

[neverdoingmuch]

okay! tma au time!

so i’m gonna start off by saying jgs is elias in this au. i dont care what you say about elias’ sexy voice or charisma or whatever, they’re both slimy and evil. also gertrude, so to speak, is wen chao. (bear with me pls)

most other people are assistants. i think? i mean lwj, wwx, jzx and a few others are?

(my brain says it would be funny to have lwj as sasha and su she as not!sasha but lwj deserves better than that)

i’m not really gonna follow the plot of tma bc rip

anyway!

the assistants are just kind of vibing in the archives when they discover that wrh, who’s like the chief of police and is an avatar of the slaughter, is actively killing people for the fears bc acab

does he have a deal with jgs and that’s why wen chao is the archivist? yeah probably. wen chao is the archivist bc daddy had connections. wrh put jgs in charge and sent wen chao to make sure everything was running how wrh wanted it to be

yeah, wrh wants to have control over all the fears or something idk

so wen chao is the archivist. but unlike gertrude who purposefully made things really messy and a nightmare he’s just really incompetent. wen zhuliu is the avatar of the distortion and theyre tight bc zhuliu owes wrh or whatever.

so the wrh stuff comes out and a bunch of people band together to try and bring justice to him and thus we have the sunshot campaign

maybe all the families have their own fears? the lans are the lonely and the nies are the hunt. jfm and yzy are avatars of the bad parenting idk. 

anyway, before they took any action, wwx had already started investigating bc wen chao is a lil bitch and very suspicious

while investigating wwx gets sucked into the archivist stuff and ends up being thrown into the tunnels under the institute with wen zhuliu who then proceeds to do distortion fuckery for three months

he finally escapes and kills wen zhuliu using the powers he’d begun to develop in the tunnels (it’s so strange that he stumbled across a tape recorder which he’d named chenqing and after that he kept finding statements,,, so strange)

he’s killed wen zhuliu so he goes off and kills wen chao and now he’s the archivist whoo

he joins up with the others and they go kill wrh, sweet it’s all dealt with but jgs starts spreading shit about how all the wens are terrible and must be killed (including wen qing’s family who are like paramedics who work ed with the police, so not cops but forced to work w/ them)

while jgs is touting that bs jgy is in the background slowly manipulating wwx into getting all the different marks (idk what they were called) from the different fears

he gets kidnapped by xue yang who is nikola and spends a month getting moisturised by him and told that wow he’s so impressive killing the other avatars,, im gonna follow in your footsteps (let’s say that avatars have a truce not to kill each other in this world. like they’re all equals and pretty much the same strength so there’s no real point in killing each other or trying to kill each other)

wwx escapes and im kinda annoyed we dont have enough bad guys for wwx to properly get his marks but whatever

he goes back to the archives and they come up with a plan to kill xue yang and they go off and do it

imma let you pick what happens here. does jzx die? do we let xxc and sl have the spotlight and this is where their story comes into play?

whatever happens, wwx goes into a coma for thirteen months and enter extremely hot avatar of the end who helps him wake up (mo xuanyu?? mo xuanyu.)

he goes back to the archives and lwj has been taken by the lonely while he was gone so he’s working with his uncle again (the lans are the lukases and i take no criticism)

side note: in this au wwx gets two phobias! (gee wwx! how come you get to have two phobias?)

so mr spider was definitely a thing and so were the dogs

while wwx was on the streets he found this book and he’d just started learning how to read so he decided to practise but then some other kid stole it from him and he ended up watching him get eaten by a giant spider also the dogs attacked him bc no rest for wwx

does wwx pretend not to be aware?? i’d say yes. if not bc of trauma then bc it’s super obvious and the look on lwj’s face when the jane prentiss equivalent attacks and wwx says wow those worms were a lil weird huh? is so funny to him

anyway lwj was in the know the whole time and he probably moved out of his family home and joined the archives so he could investigate jgs but then wwx dies and hes like aight yeah imma feel real lonely right now

so wwx comes back and jc, who had been the host of ghost hunt CW (cultivation world) and was attacked by an evil ghost, tries to kill him

after their fight and subsequent freedom from the slaughter and the eye (sans eye removing bc fuck that) jc moves in with jyl

im sorry that what the girlfriends isnt a thing here but i love the idea of a jyl who just isnt scared of anything because she’s seen death and just can’t get scared anymore

she still dates an archives employee though. it’s jzx, who is kinda like tim in this au i guess? did he die in that explosion? (i want to say no so jyl would be happy but if he dies and she’s mourning him and jc and wwx fought,, well now wwx is alone for bad decision times)

one day wen qing comes up and is like pls help my brother, he’s been taken by the buried so wwx runs off and finds breekon and hope (su she and jin zixun), kill jin zixun and steals the coffin

the rest of the wens are in hiding atm so he doesnt have to like monkey chain all the wens out of the coffin 

so wwx goes inside the coffin and rescues wen ning (bc jon and daisy’s relationship was super sweet)

they get out and immediately run away with wen qing and the rest of the wens

where do they go? wen qing’s cute cottage in scotland (or cultivation world equivalent)

so they’re living as farmers and wwx is getting sick bc he can’t get statements from here but he has to protect them bc the jins keep attacking (what are the jins working for?? idk. the vast? the dark? who knows, not me)

anyway lwj comes and is like you have to come back to gusu/the archives and wwx is like no! bc he has to protect the wens

so lwj is like fuck ive gotta move my timeline up and find a way to off jgs

jgy ends up doing it and lwj is like /: my revenge,,

everyone is happy! jgs is dead, wrh is dead! but then jgy starts stirring up rumours about wwx and lwj is honestly so tired of this shit

and bc people keep attacking the wens, wwx manages to collect the rest of the marks from the other fears

jgy sends his letter: dear wwx sorry for the deception yada yada yada

but wwx is aware of that shit and just kills himself before he can finish reading it

whoo apocalypse averted but lwj comes to help with the wens just in time for his burial so not whoo?

anyway we know wwx isn’t dead and he’s just vibing in another coma or something equivalent (why does he die twice in this au? bc idk how s5 will end but it’s a tragedy horror podcast and i want them to be happy so he gets to die twice)

anyway, the avatar of the web, mister manipulation and secrets extraordinaire nie huaisang is very pissed after jgy manipulated his brother into becoming an avatar of the slaughter and decides to just expose the dude

lxc kills him bc he deserves to kill jgy tbh,,, manipulative toad

nhs also restores wwx’s rep bc they were besties in uni and i refuse to accept anything else

he rocks up to the cottage/farm and is like hey guys i helped clear wwx’s name and wen qing is like hes fucking dead what help were you? and nhs is like ?? he’s not dead

so they unbury him and lwj wakes him up through the power of love and all that jazz

anyway, wwx manages to do *insert super cool thing here* and gets rid of all the fears and they get a happy ending bc i really want them to have a happy ending

do they stay living on the farm/cottage with the wens?? no but they buy a cottage nearby and happily live there together raising rabbits and growing idk pumpkins

[diminished-fish]

References for “A Portrait in Synesthesia”

This fic is COMPLETE now, so anyone who might have been hesitant to follow a wip, here you go! The whole synesthetic package, wrapped up with a nice lil bow on top. :3

For those who might have missed the masterpost: the fic was my contribution to the good omens big bang and is a sweeping, canon-compliant romp through history, told in (almost) all original scenes, with lots of nature imagery and T.S. Eliot. Kind of my own cold open, but with way more feelings and flowers. Also the sea. And an emotionally significant comet.

I had the opportunity to throw all of myself at this project and really enjoyed making it an intense focus for a while. In a way, it was an experiment to see how much I was capable of, which as it turns out, is more than I thought! (there’s a lesson here, probably...). Going this deep with the research and worldbuilding is not something I will likely be doing often for fic writing, but since I did with this one, I figured I’d share a bit of the process.

Under the cut are major spoilers for the timeline, story, and historic events in my recent fic, A Portrait in Synesthesia. I had originally planned to post this information in the end notes of the fic, but at some point, the list got way too long and posting it here became the sensible choice. There is a link to this post in the end notes of the fic, so it will be easy to find your way back here if you get to the end and want to know a bit more about the writing and research process. 

The Title:

Putting this bit at the top because I don’t know where else to put it: The working title for this fic throughout the entire writing process was “In Synesthesia.” I almost changed the final title in the eleventh hour to “The Still Point of the Turning World” because of what a prevalent theme Eliot became (that line was also slipped into the story three times at important moments — once for each POV character). I also briefly considered “Always, We Were Enough” as a title, since the conversation with Adrielle at the lighthouse kind of... accidentally became the thesis of the whole story, but that was a bit too sappy even for me, a Confirmed Sap. 

And while I’ll be questioning my choice of title for the rest of forever (titling things is hard, y’all), I ultimately thought the more descriptive title was best, and wanted to keep the nod to the song that inspired it all.

Speaking of the song... have you listened to it yet?? It’s great, I promise!

Synesthesia:

This was my research starting point. Before I dug into any of the historical or astronomical research or even started any serious plotting, I started reading about synesthesia, or, as Psychology Today defines it: the neurological condition in which the stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway (for example, hearing) leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway (such as vision).

Full disclosure: I do not have synesthesia. I spent a LOT of time researching it for this fic and did my best to portray it accurately, in spite of the fantastical elements I added. If I’ve overstepped or gotten something wrong and there are any synesthetes out there who would like to talk about it, I am very open to those discussions. The AO3 comments are always open to that, or you can message me/send me an ask here if you would like a less public forum.

I probably read r/Synesthesia in its entirety, but this thread of first-hand accounts was one of the most interesting to me and provided a lot of the inspiration for how I used the emotional synesthesia imagery. 

Besides everyone’s favorite research staring point of Wikipedia, this link is one I got from Boston University’s Synesthesia Project, and it is a pretty exhaustive list of research and books, as well as art and poetry about synesthesia. I have also been working my way through The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales, by Oliver Sacks which is the book that came most frequently recommended to me in my search. It’s an extremely approachable and interesting look at neurological conditions, synesthesia among them.

As it appears in the fic:

In a broad, generalized sense, Aziraphale and Crowley have a few types of synesthesia in this story. Obviously, I gave it a supernatural/celestial twist and a healthy glug of magical realism, but I did try to keep it firmly rooted in the actual condition. The types of synesthesia they have are:

Chromesthesia: they both have this. Sounds, specifically each other’s voices, have a color association

Lexical-gustatory synesthesia/emotion-flavor synesthesia: Aziraphale has this. Words (in this case, emotions, specifically Crowley’s emotional state) have a taste.

Odor-color synesthesia/emotion-odor synesthesia: Crowley has this. Words (again, emotions, specifically Aziraphale’s emotional state) have a smell.

One of the defining characteristics of synesthesia is that it is constant. If a synesthete connects the number 9 with the color blue, for example, then they will always connect them in this way. This was the major difference between real synesthesia and the fantasy synesthesia in this fic. The sensory/emotion connections for Aziraphale and Crowley changed in subtle ways as their relationship evolved through the ages.

The “binding thread” also had nothing to do with synesthesia. That was me wanting to make the spool analogy work for the body swap, baking it into the entire fic because I liked how the imagery fit with the synesthesia, and then leaning into the magic and the soul memory so hard that I fell flat on my face into magical realism. (A True Fact: I have spent a fair amount of time lying on the floor in the past 6 months, shaking my fist at the cute little plot bunny who grew fangs and claws and dragged me down a rabbit hole that ended up being 100k words deep). 

Anyway! Research!

Before I get into space and history and flowers... Yes, I admit to absolutely making up some wacky shit about Europa for the sake of fun banter and making a metaphor work. All those pre-Fall scenes on abandoned Earths are 100% a fantasy setting and I exercised the super fun right of a fantasy writer and embraced the worldbuilding (moonbuilding?). I also just thought Crowley would have delighted in tying a moon’s guts in knots, and Aziraphale would have delighted in the idea of whimsy-for-whimsy’s-sake. Please don’t lose sleep over the scientific inaccuracies.

Halley’s comet:

I promise not to bog this down with a billion comet facts, but there were a few particular things about Halley’s comet that had me gasping dramatically about how it’s “A.J. Crowley, but a comet!!” Specifically, it’s orbit and it’s structure. 

Halley’s retrograde orbit gives it one of the fastest velocities (relative to Earth) of any object in the solar system. I never explicitly worked the “you go too fast for me” line into the fic because I was trying to do original scenes (this particular story lived between the lines), but... just know that tidbit is there and join me in these emotional dire straits. If you like.

The comet’s structure is what is known as a “rubble pile”, meaning it’s made up of a bunch of smaller rocks held together by gravity (read: a hot god damn mess held together by stubbornness). 

As it appears in the fic:

The nucleus of Halley’s comet is shaped like a weird lopsided peanut. In fact, one could almost look at it and say it resembles a contact binary star, if such a thing could be a shriveled, misshapen pile of rubble.

Officially, Halley’s comet might have been recorded as early as 467 BC (a comet was recorded in Greece that year— unclear if it was Halley’s, but the timing and the fact that it was visible to the naked eye suggests that it probably was). This was the year I had Aziraphale making the scroll that causes Crowley’s panic in Athens (390 BC). I like to think that some human, at some point, caught a glimpse of it and tried to bring it to light, only to be written off as a crazed conspiracy theorist.

The apocalyptic depiction of Halley’s comet in chapter 9 (Bithynia) is actually based in fact. The comet made its closest approach to Earth (in human memory) in 837 AD, passing within 5 million kilometers. Its tail stretched halfway across the sky and it appeared as bright as Venus to the naked eye.

1910 Halley’s Comet panic. Bonus: c o m e t  p i l l s

Where 1910′s appearance was a spectacular sight and one of the closest approaches on record (coming within 22 million kilometers of Earth), 1986′s was the worst viewing conditions in 2,000 years. The comet passed within 63 million kilometers at its closest approach, and had the sun positioned between it and Earth, making it impossible to see from areas with any amount of light pollution, and almost invisible to all of the northern hemisphere. 

Historic events and settings:

Chapter 6 (Ostia): This was one of the chapters that I did a bunch of arguably unnecessary research for, since the history and the meat of the setting faded into the backdrop as the scene itself focused on dialogue and train of thought. The port town of Ostia was incredibly engrossing to read about, and between wikipedia’s ever-branching paths, ostia-antica.org, and ancient history encyclopedia’s entry, it ended up being one of the deeper rabbit holes I went down. My original intent for Aziraphale being in town was as a response to pirates sacking Ostia in 68 BC. I had him stationed there to guard against further attacks as the town rebuilt, and had him lingering because he was swept away by the romanticism of the art and the sea and the constant ebb & flow of people. I never found a way to work this in that didn’t feel super awkward and expository since the chapter was Crowley POV, so it was just left it as background noise.

Chapter 6 (pyramid of Cestius): Beyond being a magistrate of one of the four great religious corporations in ancient Rome (the Septemviri Epulonum), little is known about who Gaius Cestius actually was. As the city expanded, his lavish tomb was absorbed into the city walls (circa 3rd century AD), where it remains what he is remembered for to this day. I took most of my information from here (cross referenced with our lord and savior, Wikipedia) and had a chuckle at this poem by Thomas Hardy.

Chapter 8 (Plague of Justinian): The Yersinia pestis bacterium leaves no indicator on skeletal remains, meaning we rely on written records to track its path through history. The 6th century plague pandemic is the first recorded outbreak of bubonic plague, and for the purpose of our story, a certain distraught chronicler was the one on site, writing that history.

A note/cw: I wrote chapters 8 and 12 in October and November, respectively, and did much of my research for them over the summer. I imagine, given the current covid-19 pandemic, these sources would be less fun to follow up on now. Please be aware that the podcast episodes linked here, and the book cited in the miscellaneous refs section, get into pretty grisly details about illness and pandemics.

Chapters 8 and 12 (bubonic plague/The Black Death): I took a fair amount of my notes on bubonic/pnuemonic plague, specifically it’s path of destruction through Europe in the 14th century, from the two plague episodes of This Podcast Will Kill You. It’s pretty fascinating stuff and the Erins are great hosts, so check it out if you’re into delightful nerds bantering about epidemiology! 

Chapter 9 (the death of Peter of Atroa): Peter of Atroa was an abbot whose fame as a miracle-worker landed him in a scandal accusing him of exorcising demons by the power of Beelzebub, rather than God. Theodore the Studite’s letter cleared his name enough to avoid execution, but his reputation didn’t fully recover until after his death in 837 AD, when he was canonized as a saint. Peter and Theodore were tough to find extensive information on without passing through a paywall, so I took these scraps and ran a mile with them.

Chapter 13 (Tlatelolco, the Aztec Empire, the Feast of the Dead): I used this site as the source and starting point on much of my research on the Aztec Empire. And listen… I know it looks like a website for babies, and yes, I’m aware that a lot of the articles are literally written for a pre-teen audience, but it’s also one of the most concise, thorough, well-researched, and — perhaps most importantly — easily-searchable sources I found. Most of the pages cite papers and archaeological journals and I was able to jump to SO many other great sources of information. Mexicolore has my undying love and devotion for making my research process easy and fun and also having lots of pretty pictures.

Most of the physical descriptions for Tenochtitlan and Tlatelolco (surrounding landscape, canals and causeways, chinampas, etc.) started here.

Tenochtitlan and Tlatelolco were independent cities, but shared a border (kind of like a city and a suburb) and the small island on Lake Texcoco (located where present day Mexico City is). Tenochtitlan was the capital city of the Aztec Empire, and besides cross-referencing Mexicorlore, the link in the previous bullet point, and Wikipedia, I got a fair bit of information from these essays. 

Tlatelolco’s market was the major hub of trade and commerce, and saw 20-40,000 people trading PER DAY. Research on the market started here.

Chapter 14 (Terschelling and the Brandaris lighthouse): While I strove for historical accuracy as much as possible in this fic, I did take some liberties— especially with the island of Terschelling and the Brandaris lighthouse (yes, it’s real!) circa 1350-1435. 

The village of Brandarius is based on present day West Terschelling— a settlement founded as a direct result of the lighthouse. In the middle ages, both the village and the lighthouse were named after Saint Brandarius (or Brendan of Clonfert: ‘The Navigator’, ‘The Voyager’, ‘The Anchorite’, ‘The Bold’; patron saint of divers, mariners, and travellers). It’s still a relatively small village today, and it was a surprisingly difficult task to find historical records for Brandarius/West Terschelling dating back to the 14th century that say much beyond “it existed.” I loosely based the village off information found here, and named it “Brandarius” instead of “West Terschelling” based on the information found here. 

The original lighthouse was built in 1323, destroyed by the sea in 1570, and rebuilt in 1594. Since there were no records (that I could find) of what the original lighthouse looked like, I loosely based the height and floor plan on the current tower, and made up everything everything else about the interior. The interior was based on information about other live-in lighthouses, specifically this one which is roughly the same height as the Brandaris.

The present day Brandaris lighthouse sits directly in the middle of West Terschelling. For the sake of that sweet Self-Imposed Exile + Cryptid Lighthouse Keeper drama, I took the liberty of making my fictional village of Brandarius teeny tiny and setting it slightly apart from the lighthouse. 

Miscellaneous references:

In addition to the podcast, details about plague in chapters 8 and 12 were gleaned from the book The Great Mortality by John Kelly. It’s a cool read if you’re into nonfiction that reads like fiction, but does have some rather graphic passages so proceed with caution.

Yaretzi’s maquizcóatl/Aziraphale’s memento. To clarify, they were NOT the same item. I pictured Aziraphale cherishing the memory of the day by the lake with Yaretzi so much, that once he acquired the bookshop and had a place for all his kitsch, he hunted down a bad luck dragon of his own.

Here is the Aztec creation story about sun cycles and Earth’s rebirths that Yaretzi told Aziraphale. Another version of it.

In the scene in Mexico where Aziraphale briefly remembers, I used an analogy about a moment that hovers and flits away as “quick as a hummingbird.” Besides just liking the words, this was a nod to the legend of the cempasuchil flower. I originally had Yaretzi telling Aziraphale that story too, but the chapter was just way too long and something had to go.

In my very first outline, I had Aziraphale’s grief and personal growth chapter taking place at a Día de Muertos festival in Mexico. When the plot and the timeline finally got ironed out and I realized only half of that story was going to take place on Earth, I ended up focusing on Aziraphale’s brief relationship with Yaretzi instead of the festival itself (she was always the important bit). I also found myself married to the idea of that chapter happening in the 14th and 15th centuries, which meant the scenes in Mexico take place before Spain invaded and the festival was based solely on its Aztec roots. Because the plot shifted in this way, a lot of research went on behind the scenes that never made it into the fic, but for anyone interested in the Aztec Feast of the Dead, Mexicolore was my starting place again. From there, I found my way to reading about Mictecacíhuatl, the Aztec goddess of death, who was the main focus of the festival.

This isn’t research, but it might interest, like… three of you, so here you go. The scenes in Heaven (Aziraphale’s solo chapter in general tbh) were hard to write. One of those walls you hit with writing where you kick and punch and bang your head against it for months (literal months, I started wrestling with it in August and it didn’t come together until the end of January) but can’t seem to make any breakthroughs. Inspiration truly comes from unexpected places though, and when @gottagobuycheese sent me this Gregorian chant generator it actually… worked? I cranked that hum slider up to 100 and left it there for a few days (to the chagrin of my spouse) and lo— Zophiel.

There’s a cool legend about Saint Brendan of Clonfert’s sea-faring journey in search of the Garden of Eden that has nothing to do with this fic beyond being neat parallel. If that happens to be anyone’s cup of tea, the story is here. The tl;dr version is here. My original vision for the lighthouse included carved whales (St Brendan’s attribute) over the front door, and images from this story (the island of sheep, the Christmas island, the paradise island of birds) drawn on the walls of one of the bedrooms used by previous keepers’ children. Continuing the theme of “how stories echo” if you will. It felt really awkward and out of place once I wrote it in though, and that chapter was already so long once I got through all the plot bits I wanted, so it was left on the cutting room floor. 

Speaking of taking liberties with the 14th century, I did fudge the timing a bit on the art created by Crowley and Adrielle. Drawings, especially pencil sketches, have their historical roots in the late 15th century, and I’m chalking this one up to the fantastical setting of the Good Omens universe. In a fantasy world where angels and demons walk among us and the earth is literally 6,000 years old, I feel like inventing pencils 100 years early is small potatoes. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

This is the edition of A Midsummer Night’s Dream that Crowley nicked in Norwich. There are some really wonderful illustrations and scans of full pages under that link. I may or may not have lost a few hours down that research rabbit hole for a few throwaway lines (no regrets, I fall like Crowley). 

One last rabbit hole...

I saved this bit for the end of the post since it’s not really research and I don’t know how interested people will be in this kind of thing. Also... this is a lot more emotional and personal than the historical aspects of the fic. This is just what I was feeling and thinking while I was writing, and this story is absolutely the kind of thing I expect everyone to take something different away from. If you read the fic, took your own meaning from it, and want to keep that meaning without me tarnishing it by babbling about symbolism (first of all, high five, I love you, thank you for hanging out with me and my stories), then feel free to skip the rest of this post. <3

But! For anyone who wants to know more about what I had in mind with the flowers and nature metaphors I worked into the story, read on!

The tag “it’s an OT3 where Earth is the third” is something I really worked to pull to center stage. In my mind, Earth was a fully formed character who also spent the pre-Fall storyline being jerked around by God and having its memory wiped. It experienced transformations, pain, heartbreak, joy, and love just like Aziraphale and Crowley did, and I wrote it as falling in love with the two of them over the course of the Earth Project, then remaining very much in love for the entirety of iteration 23 (the current iteration). “Memories that are buried in places deeper than the mind” referred to the soul imprints being formed, but also Earth’s buried memories— seeping through the cracks to connect them via synesthesia in emotionally charged moments, allowing them to find each other from orbit in iterations 20 and 21 (music and the sea), and pulling them together in moments of distress like Constantinople and Barcelona.

In the vein of “Earth as a character,” I used plants (mainly flowers), topography, and weather as Earth’s “voice” in the grief chapters when Crowley and Aziraphale were separated from each other and going through their individual arcs. I’m not sure it technically counts as flower language, since all the flowers featured in the fic were wild and growing in nature, but (almost) all of them served a metaphorical purpose.

Flowers:

Jasmine (for the moon): Aziraphale’s flower. Love, beauty, sensuality, good luck, purity. The rational hedonist.

Marigolds (for the sun): Crowley’s flower. Grief and remembrance of the dead, lost love, the fragility of life, creativity, winning the affections of someone through hard work. The fallen artist.

Purple Hyacinth: Earth’s flower. Regret, sorrow, a desire for forgiveness. The witness. These were the wildflowers that grew in the orchard/vineyard on the penultimate Earth, where Aziraphale and Crowley managed to work out the differences they couldn’t by the sea. Hyacinths are also the hazy images they would see in those moments of vulnerability, compassion, and compromise. 

A fun aside! In very early drafts, the placeholder name I was using for angel Crowley was Jacinto, which is a Spanish/Portuguese name meaning “Hyacinth.” It was meant to be a reference to both the flower and the Greek myth of Apollo and Hyacinth, but my brain absolutely could not disconnect it from Manny Jacinto (and kept insisting on imagining Crowley calling Aziraphale homie and calling everything dope). Eventually I leaned into the Latin and landed on Joriel, then attached my banner to the Achilles and Patroclus myth instead of Apollo and Hyacinth, but the name Jacinto still makes me think of starmakers.

Honeysuckle & morning glory, climbing the oak tree: Aziraphale + Crowley + Earth. Seen in chapter 10, when Aziraphale and Crowley shake hands on the Arrangement. Two plants whose vines grow in opposing spirals. In nature, they have a symbiotic relationship, twining around each other in order to climb trees, walls, and fences, allowing both of them to grow higher than they could alone. 

Or: local woman sees this tweet, hasn’t known peace since.

The deasilwise / widdershins (clockwise / anticlockwise) thing got sprinkled throughout the story, with deasilwise being the “angel direction” and widdershins being the “demon direction.” Halley’s comet, with its backwards orbit, orbits the sun deasilwise, even after Crowley becomes widdershins.

Amaranth: Immortality, unfading affection, finding beauty in inaccessible places. 

The garden in the dunes and Petya’s travelling garden:

Where Aziraphale took a methodical, Kubler-Ross approach to dealing with loss, Crowley’s process was meandering and chaotic. The garden in the dunes was where it all came to a head— his way of throwing all of his emotions on the ground like a big jumbled pile of pick-up sticks, then slowly sorting through them and putting himself back together. There was a whole lot of Earth/flower speech going on in those scenes.

With the exception of zinnias, the garden was made up of perennials or self-sowing flowers. This happened “off-screen” as I could never find a decent way to work it in, but... the zinnias which Crowley bullied into being perennials returned to being annuals and died off after he left Terschelling and sometimes I still cry in the shower about it. 

Zinnias: Adrielle’s flower. Endurance, lasting friendship (especially friendships lasting through absence), goodness, daily remembrance. This one is also a small self-indulgence on my part since Adrielle was something of a self-insert. My mother loves zinnias and, growing up, our house was absolutely surrounded by them in the summer. Anywhere there was a free patch of dirt, Mom planted zinnias. They’re a scrappy, weird looking flower that doesn’t have a smell and a lot of people find rather ugly... and I love them with my entire heart. There is no flower on this earth that fills me with more whimsy, nostalgia, or childlike contentment. Also butterflies love them.

Chamomile: Patience. Fresh chamomile flowers are very aromatic and smell like apples.

Daisies: Transformation. Also simplicity, loyalty, and new beginnings.

Poppies: Restful sleep or recovery, peace in death, remembrance.

Tulips: Each tulip color has its own meaning, but the most common thing they symbolize is deep love. That said, I mainly chose this one for their prevalence in the Netherlands, as well as being very colorful perennials.

Pansies: The love or admiration that one person holds for another, free thinking, remembrance.

Lily of the valley: Rebirth, the return of happiness. They also have a very strong, very sweet smell and can grow in cool climates. These were the main reasons I chose it, rather than any of the religious connotations.

Lavender: Silence, devotion, serenity, grace.

Orchids: There’s... actually no deep symbolism with this one. Nothing intended anyway. Orchids, lavender, and cranberries are the dominant native plants on the island of Terschelling. I thought they’d be pretty in the dunes.

I am also a music-must-be-playing-at-all-times kind of person and I came out the other end of this project with FIFTEEN (15) playlists. Some of them are all instrumental playlists that I used to set the mood while I wrote certain scenes/segments, others are lyrical and tell a story or helped me sort out the story, some chapters got entire playlists all to themselves (looking at you, 14th century). The main playlists are linked in the notes on AO3, but I may collect them all in a tumblr post at some point if there’s an interest.

This entire project was an enormous labor of love that took up pretty much all of my free time for six months. So, if you read this far... thank you for coming on such a long journey with me!! Truly, deeply, and from every corner of my heart, thank you for reading. <3

[sundaynightnovels]

chinese mythology AU: the moon rabbit

so @insearchof-solace​ gave me this prompt a while back and i was immediately inspired and.... wrote nothing BUT i kept wanting to write it (that’s fair enough, no????) && now that i’m finally up to writing it, my word doc is acting up on me and i was ready to throw in the towel but i was like

well. i write a whole bunch and don’t edit my work anyway, so how about i try something different and write it right now, spontaneously, on this post here? are you nervous? i’m rebellious and low on energy and don’t have enough mind to be nervous  so yea, i’m gonna give it a go. so there’s no like introductory post on how long it’s gonna be or what is it about or how vastly different it is from the actual mythology (very different, probably) like always, this is an AU of my wip like all things out of season, i.e. using its characters and whatnot. so yea. a little background: the moon rabbit is, well, a rabbit. who lives on the moon. it’s usually like seen pounding something with a mortar and pestle that the chinese (the moon rabbit exists in a lot of other asian mythology but i’m using the chinese one for this because, well. it’s a chinese au piece) assumes is the elixir of life, and is usually portrayed as being a companion of chang’e, the moon goddess. but who knows? will there be a companion here?? i don’t know.  what i do know is that i’ll be personifying the moon rabbit, so yea. i won’t be describing an actual rabbit with rabbit limbs and features per se here, but something rather human. here it goes: edit: after writing, it seems a lil philosophical and kinda gloomy. not my usual light-hearted thing, so be warned!

The moon is round tonight. Well, that’s no different from usual -- it is round every night, there’s no way it can suddenly change its shape beneath his feet, but well. He supposes, for the mortals down there, the moon is round tonight. Below him, flickering lights dance like waves cascading over one another; they sputter and glow within their paper walls, orange and red and yellow and even purple. Laughter weaves its way between hooked arms and raucous chatter, explodes as someone butchers a poetry recital and recedes when a performance begins. He sits there, on the edge. The stone is cool in his grip, familiar and worn; it sets a rhythm alongside the pounding beats and traditional tunes of the music below. Each time, a push and a twist, a push and a twist.  By the time applause breaks out, the herbs have already been ground to dust. He’s used to the smell; they prick at his nostrils and lingers in the air, but his nose always aches and the air around him is always heavy anyway. He’s used to it. Sometimes he wonders. Of course he does, he’s had more than enough time, so much that he doesn’t care to notice about the flow of the ages, passing so quickly beneath his feet that if he merely blinks, he thinks he might miss civilisation’s end.  Not that it matters to him, of course. Eras come and go, mortals live and perish. And all that eventually remains are the ghosts of memories that have come to pass.  Echoes, rather -- not ghosts. Ghosts are too corporeal, nearly substantial in their remembrance. And memories are fickle beings. They shift and change with age and perspective, warp with desires and denials; the more someone strives to recollect, the more they rebuild and break down the past, the less firm the foundation. The less solid the form. What’s left is merely an echo, a lingering afterthought. Something not as significant, yet remains hovering in the atmosphere like a miasma suspended over a grave -- doomed to haunt for all of eternity. Mortals are all chased by their echoes. And he wonders, of course, what his might be. If he were to be mortal. But of course, he isn’t. And that is a useless thought to contemplate on, for something that he cannot and will not be. He keeps pounding away. His moon is always round, after all. - The smoke is thick, almost viscous somehow. It snakes up into the air, wiggling and struggling, fighting to get out. It happens, occasionally. Though perhaps that might not be the best descriptor. Occasionally to him takes place over a rather large span of time, anyway. It doesn’t matter. The mortals move away, backs resolutely turned. Some are crying. Some press their palms tight and hold them close to their hearts, letting hushed words slip into open air. Others, younger ones, so tiny he can barely see them from where he sits, look confused.  It’s bright again, but not like before. The flames are ravenous and fierce, hungry and unrelenting; they chase after the paper offerings and tear apart the paper house, eating and swallowing till there’s nothing left. The smoke dies down; it’s a little easier to breathe. He thinks.  He doesn’t quite know. A physical release might not be quite the same as an emotional one.  What he does understand, though, is that everything comes back to dust. You bring nothing with you when you’re brought to life, and you carry nothing away in your death. It is a cycle. It will eventually happen again, he doesn’t know why they grieve. He is no expert, of course. He continues to pound away at the mixture for an immortality elixir. - She’s here today. The moon is a large place, and they don’t often cross paths. He feels like it’s been eons since he’s last spoken. It might have been. She doesn’t speak. She sits at the edge and peers down. Though there can be no sign of age on the smooth lines of her face, she somehow looks weathered. Old and beaten. Tired, from an eternity of existence.

He clears his throat; it is resounding in the silence. “Hi.” “Hi,” she replies.  She used to be mortal. She used to love and be loved. But it’s been ages.  There’s no one there for her now. He sits beside her and doesn’t speak, just pushes the bottle towards her and looks at his hands.  The skin is peeling and his palms are bruised. He is immortal, yet still they are bruised. It is an odd spectacle. He curls his fingers around them and squeezes. He stares at her and he wonders. If she’s a beautiful immortal worshiped by all and he’s her humble companion praised in textbooks.  Or maybe she’s an idol for virtue and he’s one for diligence and utility.  In reality though, he thinks it might be something else instead. That she’s a mortal stuck in a cage and that he’s her captor. Or that they are both trapped in a never-ending circle that chases after itself, sitting on the edge and trying to break the trajectory. Maybe it’s better not to think at all. After all, the moon will always be round. She will always be told in stories, celebrated in festivals. And he will always be here, pounding away for all of eternity.  Memories will live on forever, anyway -- even if they are merely echoes. Especially if they are merely echoes.  They are meant to live forever.

---------------------- okay! i don’t know why this ended up so depressing. like i said, i really didn’t plan anything. and i don’t know what this means. maybe it’s a deliberation on immortality VS mortality and how hou yi has maybe got the right idea the whole time? (okay, explanations about certain myths below.) or maybe something about myths being glorified and immortalised and wondering how that might go about in actual reality. or maybe that people should be given decisions about their own lives and not forced into a routine by fate i don’t know okay don’t question me i don’t think when i’m writing it also kinda, sort of, reflects a little about the beginning of my wip?  alright so a few things:

the moon rabbit is.... dun dun dun!! i’m sure some of y’all have guessed! it’s shou!! (that’s why it kinda reflects the beginning of my wip a little bit)

and the female is obviously... dun dun dun! chang’e!!! and she is!!!! well, this might be a little harder to guess but it also does reflect a little bit of her past / backstory in the companion novel. anyway!! it is... zhen!!

basic background on the mythology of chang’e: she is married to a man named hou yi, and back then there were like, 10 suns on earth and everyone was suffering because it was hella hot and hou yi, being a great man and a saviour of the broken (oops, mcr reference), he shot down 9 out of 10 of the suns. he was rewarded with an elixir of immortality, but he didn’t want to take it because he wanted to be with his wife. anyway something happened, bla bla bla, in order to protect the elixir from some bad guys, chang’e downed it herself and became immortal, and she decided to live in a place where she’d be closest to her husband -- which was incidentally the moon. and mid-autumn celebration is kinda celebrated for her too. okay, it also celebrates a bunch of other stuff, but for chang’e as well!

the first part he’s watching the mid-autumn festival celebrations, traditionally celebrated with people holding a bunch of lanterns on the 15th day of the 8th lunar month, which is when there is a full moon (just fyi, the 15th day of all the lunar months tend to have a full moon)

the second part he’s watching a funeral procession (kinda more like a buddhist one, where you burn joss paper and paper ingots and paper houses etc.) not really in detail but yea

the phrase that i used ‘In life you carry nothing, and in death you bring nothing’ comes from this actual chinese thing that you say ‘生不带来 死不带去’ which means the same thing

ALRIGHT. uhh. hope y’all enjoyed?? tagging my tag list @cabaretofwords​ @inked-waves​ @latechickadee​ @kidsarentallwrite​ @insearchof-solace​ @kaigods​ @inkpot-dreamer​ @pen-for-sword​ @thedreamsofthesky​ @cheap-pins​

as usual y’all are free to drop me prompts any time alright! 

[idealisticrealism]

Blindspot 4x02

I really need to get onto these recaps in a more timely fashion. Left it too late then had to rush through bc I have somewhere to be. Ooops. Anyway happy Blindspot day everyone! Wish I could watch live with you.

Reade: oh honey.Things aren’t really going your way today, are they? First your AWOL bff-slash-kinda-lover-slash-heartbreaker is ignoring your calls and being glamorous in Paris with a shady heiress, and then she’s possibly exploded in a plane crash. Ouch. At least you took a moment somewhere in there to subtly tease Rich by complimenting Boston, I mean it’s good to know your soul hasn’t been entirely crushed by the mess your life has become lol

Zapata: girllllll what are you doingggggg. You are going down the worst kind of rabbit hole, and fast. Though I guess this isn’t the first murder you’ve helped cover up, soooo.... But ugh even so I still wanna swoop in there and steal you away and protect you. I’m sure your whle storyline is gonna somehow prove relevant and important later and may even somehow save the day, but STILL. Even Keaton seems worried about you, though lbr no one knows what that sneaky bastard is really thinking (not even you). And I mean seriously you had such a great and loving team and somehow you ditched them to seek out progressively worse company. And now you’re in deep shit, bc what the hell are you gonna do with a child who has seen your face and knows you were involved in her mother’s murder??? (Don’t you dare call Reade lol)

Patterson: Ugh my adorable sassy baby. You were part of three amazing duos this ep and I could not get enough. I mean I am ALWAYS here for your adorable friendship and teamwork with Rich, but god I love the love/hate relationship you and Boston have-- like the fact you had to pause to consider if solving a tattoo and potentially saving a lot of lives was worth having to deal with him again haha. But lbr you guys are secret besties. He even calls you PatPat and you allow it, and you have your own fistbump I mean what could be cuter. And then there was your other teamup, heading out into the field with Remi. I was worried that Rich being in more eps would mean you would get less airtime, but I’m so glad that’s not the case. Also everyone forgets you’re also a badass FBI agent who can handle herself out in the field just like any of the others, so I’m glad these last two eps have given you the chance to kick some butt. Too bad you got screwed over by Remi and slept through half the action though lol. Oh also I loved the line “Would you like to make a transaction? Ugh not really” hahaha, you are the cutest lil sassy thing and honestly if you and Rich took over as the leads of this show I would be totally fine with that

Rich: holy crap, never in my wildest dreams did I expect to have an episode where you were literally in almost every scene. From cracking tattoos to sincerely comforting Reade (man you two never have scenes together and you both did so great with these) and even actually using Zapata’s name for once. That’s how we know shit is serious haha. And then going from a happy lil puppy when your bf Boston is allowed to come play, to a little kid acting out bc you’re worried that someone else is gonna steal all your toys, then sucking it up and attempting to be the proverbial bigger man (not entirely successfully, but props for trying). And of course, as always everything you say is amazing, as is every little gesture or expression-- like seriously who needs to watch stand up comedy when they can just watch you instead??? I love you the way you love this team, so I think you’ll understand when I say please never ever leave me. Ever.

Weller: welcome back to the team, buddy. Now you can proceed to be basically a background character for most of the rest of the episode apparently haha. Although that was a cute moment where you figured out the web address thing before anyone else, including two expert hackers. That was a proud moment. I do like how you handled the Jane-taking-photos thing, addressing it quickly and with gentleness and concern, and hardly any manly over-protectiveness. But dude you definitely gotta be recognising that something is off about Jane. I’m sure you’ve written it off as related to the ZIP poisoning, but by now you gotta wonder if it’s something more, right?? Oh and now the overprotectiveness has kicked in and you’re off to save the day. There’s my lil heroic hubby, I’ve missed you. I’m actually super impressed you took the shot when the spy guy had her hostage, that took some true guts and trust in your own abilities. Looks like the real Weller IS back after all. 

Remi: Boston’s right, your hairdo does change your whole vibe. And with the lack of smiling, it even makes your face shape seem different. Which is cool, but creepy, bc man are you one vindictive little brat. To an extent I enjoy your sneakiness and watching this secret game of cat and mouse you’re playing right under the team’s noses, but every time you’re subtly mean to them or smile at their misfortune I wanna stand in between you and them and growl at you a little bit. I’m not at all happy about you betraying my precious Patterson like that. The little moment you shared with the spy dude was actually kind of interesting though, did we maybe see a little bit of depth to Remi just now? Maybe a small indication that she really does want to HAVE a family, not just get revenge for the one she lost?? Ugh also why did it make me so happy to hear you say “my husband’s FBI”? Maybe bc it sounded kinda genuine? Like you could have told the guy that it was your team coming and they wouldn’t risk you, but no you focused on Weller specifically. And then ugh that amazing parallel to the moment in 1x01 with one of you being held hostage and nodding for the other to take the shot. Did you remember that, somewhere deep down? Did you realise that you truly trusted him to do this?? I feel like this moment is gonna have deeper ramifications than you expected or intended and it’s gonna make your little vendetta a lot more difficult for you. And maybe that unwelcome emotion is exactly what triggered you cooking up a literal murder needle in your kitchen... seriously girl do you realise how Extra you are, or?? But lbr despite all your talk, you won’t be able to kill him. Something in you loves him, and that’s why you’re so damn grumpy all the time haha

Roman: Damn, son. Even as a hallucination you’re still such a grumpy little wounded puppy and I miss you soooo muuuuchhh. Also I’m so sad that when Jane/Remi is eventually cured from the ZIP poisoning you’ll probably disappear forever ughhh :’( 

Keaton: ....why are you even here right now. Couldn’t you just give them this intel over the phone. And now you just gave Remi the opportunity to screw over Patterson ugh. Next time, just call okay

Boston: oh you sarcastic bitch I love you so much. Like not only do you basically solve the whole tattoo, you call Jane out on being different “Your whole vibe is...edgier. It’s a triumph.” (of course you like the more evil version of her lol) and “Awww, you got one, Limpy!” You do that mix of sweet and mocking so well, though lbr you actually kinda love these guys and you’re so happy to be here. I think you would love to have Rich’s job but you’d never actually want to replace him in it, because you know how much he really does love these people and how he’s found a family here. But of course that won’t stop you messing with him and making him worry about being replaced lol. Please leave but also please come back soon haha

Guy at the very start who looks like an older David: hey man you look like an older David thanks so much for making me sad

[frederator-studios]

Meet Kate Tsang and Jennifer Cho Suhr, Creators of “Welcome to Doozy”

Kate and Jennifer are award-winning, multidimensional filmmakers who bonded over being the food table hoverers at networking events. Others may schmooze; Kate + Jen sandwich. Their passion for food - and for their friendship - shines through in their short “Welcome to Doozy,” our 6th GO! Cartoon. I sat down with these very impressive ladies to discuss the bureaucracy behind imaginary friends, the importance of representation, and karaoke tea-time. 

Sooo, how’d you two meet? Kate: We met in film school at NYU, where we were in the same Masters program. Jen: Kate took classes in animation - but I have no animation background, and, sadly, can barely draw...

What brought you together as collaborators? Jen: We were paired in the same production group our first week of school, and became good friends. Kate: We’ve since collaborated on each other’s class exercises, thesis films, and various arty things.

Partners in movie-making! What brought you to Frederator as a team? Kate: I’ve always had an interest in animation. I love Adventure Time and Bee and PuppyCat. So when Natasha Allegri posted on her blog about GO! Cartoons, I told Jen we should ‘go’ for it. Jen: We had - still have! - the concept for a full series prepared, so we actually pitched the show bible first and then reverse-engineered that into the short.

How did “Doozy” change throughout your development process? Jen: A lot, actually. Lou is a Kitsune fox demon now - she started out as an eyeball with cowboy boots! But the concept was always 2 girlfriends, a la Broad City, having misadventures. Kate: A little origin story: Ex (who has always been a rabbit) recently retired from being an imaginary friend. The Bureau of Imaginary Friends handles the re-adjustment of retired IF’s back into the imaginary world. So this is the story of Ex re-assimilating: finding a roommate in Lou, getting a job, and developing a crush on her coworker Skeletim. Jen: Skeletim stayed really consistent since the pitch - Eric (Homan, our VP of Development) always really liked him. We joke that Eric only stuck with us because of Skeletim.

How much are Ex and Lou based on you two, and who’s who? Kate: It’s a bit of a mix… Jen: But I’d say I’m more Ex, almost by default - just because Kate is so much more like Lou. Kate: I AM the mischievous one. Jen: And I’m the more... straight-laced one? I guess that’s the way to put it. Although! Kate is the one who does martial arts, like Ex.

What themes recur in your work? Kate: There’s always hopefulness in mine. I’m interested in outsiders, and finding whimsy and humor, even when things look bleak. I enjoy working in mediums where I can create wonderment. Like right now: I’m learning magic! Jen: I care a lot about representation and grounding stories in the realities of human relationships. The feature film that I’m developing now is inspired by my relationship with my sister. And with “Doozy”: it’s very specific to Kate and my identities as Asian Americans. Kate: Like incorporating the bento box, and the influence of Japanese anime and manga, of which we’re both fans. We were definitely inspired by Hayao Miyazaki’s way with food.

❀ A happy lil side note: one of the most popular Youtube comments on the short reads ‘A lot of people won’t know what a bento is but thanks to you, now they do!’ ❀

Jen: And we were conscious of the fact that most buddy comedies are about male friendships. We wanted to show girls being silly together and represent female friendship as it really is. Kate: That’s why Broad City was such an inspiration and even a motivator for “Doozy”. We were like ‘Ok, people do want to watch this.’

I read recently that Broad City’s viewership is split almost evenly male/female - it’s actually something like 55/45, with more men watching than women. Kate: What? That’s awesome. Jen: It just goes to show that it all comes down to good comedy and strong characters. I’m actually about to have a baby boy which has made me think about the types of stories that I’ll read to him as he grows up. I’ve been thinking of some of my favorite YA books with female protagonists like Anne of Green Gables and A Wrinkle in Time… it’s important to me that he’s able to identify and empathize with female characters. The only reason that boys “wouldn’t be able to” as people say, is if they learn socially that they shouldn’t.

What are some cool things we’ll get to see if “Welcome to Doozy” gets a series? Jen: Well, let’s just say there are some nefarious happenings in Ex’s office…

Gasp! Not Mrs. Hugs! Kate: Nah, not Mrs. Hugs. She’s a true office drone, doesn’t know what’s really up. Jen: We’d also backtrack, to show how Ex and Lou came to be friends and roommates. Kate: And we’d get to introduce their pet popsicle, who lives in the freezer. Jen: And we’d get to see Lou working her job at a run-down mini golf course. She schemes and ~magics~ to keep it afloat. Kate: There’s an underlying mystery, and it’d be a lot of them screwing up while trying to investigate it.

What sorta stuff do you guys like to do together - any wild adventures? Kate: Actually, yes. We try to take a road trip together every year. So far we’ve done the Badlands, the Southwest, the Midwest, the South and New Orleans. Jen: Admittedly, the Midwest was probably the most boring… not to knock where I’m from. But here’s a story: when we were in Nashville - the biggest music town - we quickly realized that karaoke is different there and that everyone getting onstage was a pro or semi-pro country singer. And then Kate got up - Kate: I didn’t know any better. Jen: And sang an Amy Winehouse/Mark Ronson cover amid all this country music. Truly the new kids in town. And the audience TOTALLY ate it up! They loved it. Kate: We karaoke together a lot. Sometimes we rent a room for just the two of us… during the middle of the day… one might call us enthusiasts.

What cartoons do you guys like? Jen: Well, Kate and I have wildly different tastes. But we both love Adventure Time and Rick and Morty. Kate: And we share 90s cartoons, like Dexter’s Lab, Daria, and Invader Zim - Jen: But Kate likes things like Ren & Stimpy - which is too grotesque for me…

What about your favorite Studio Ghibli film? Jen: Spirited Away. Kate: My Neighbor Totoro.

Last up: what are you working on now, and what’s your favorite thing you’ve made in the past? Kate: Favorite film I’ve made is “So You’ve Grown Attached” - “Doozy” inherited elements from it, like the imaginary friends, and the name ‘Ex’. Jen: I’m really focused on getting my feature financed right now, which we want to shoot this summer.

Oo-ooh! What’s it about, and who’s the star? Jen: The film is called You and Me Both and we have Constance Wu from Fresh Off the Boat as one of the stars (me = !!). It’s a drama with comedic notes about two sisters, one a struggling heroin addict, who take a road trip to find their birth mother. While it touches on some heavy topics like loss and addiction, it’s ultimately a love story between sisters… so if anyone is looking to finance a film, hit me up! As far as favorite work… I don’t know… Kate: What about “Saeng-Il”? (“Birthday” in Korean) Jen: Okay, “Saeng-Il” then.

And Kate, what are you working on?

Kate: Eeeerrrrrr…. Jen: C’mon! Your feature! Kate: Okay, yeah, I’m working on a feature too. It’s a drama-comedy about a teen delinquent who teams up with a struggling party magician to battle her inner demons, strained home life, and avoid reform school. If anyone happens to know anyone who knows Catherine O’Hara - I’ve got a part for her.

You heard it here first, folks. Let’s snag financing for “You and Me Both” and Catherine O’Hara as Kate’s lead.

Thanks for taking the time, Kate and Jen! Great chatting with you, and best of luck on all of your projects. Can’t wait to see ‘em on the big screen (and also, little screens).

- Cooper

[doriansbutt]

3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 11, 12, 16, 19, 20, 25 for whoever you feel like talking about!

For Nicos :) under a cut for length wowzers bowsers 

3. What would some of their cutscenes look like?When you talk to him right after getting to Skyhold, he’s cheery and excited about the new base, though he does express his regrets about Haven and will ask how the newly named Inquisitor is holding up.  He’ll be really shaken after Adamant, especially if he was brought along and experienced the Fade. After Halamshiral, he’ll talk about how he really hates the Game and the Inquisitor will have the chance to joke with him about it…4. What would their romance route look like? Would they be romancable?He’ll be available to a male of any race.  He can be just a casual fling or it can become more serious.  It’ll be slow going at first bc of his past and the big kinda setting off point/locking in the romance will be initiated when the Inquisitor tells him he loves/thinks he loves him.  Nicos is gonna freak out and leave.  The Inquisitor can go after him (if he wants the romance to, yknow, be a thing…also if he wants Nicos to still be a companion) and talk to him.  If he chooses to let Nicos stay gone, he’ll do just that and will not be a party member anymore.  If the Inquisitor goes after him, they’ll talk.  Nicos will express his fear about relationships and that he just needed some time to think on his own (and to have his sister tell him he’s being a butthead for running away) and he’ll ask the Inquisitor if he still wants a relationship.  Here’s where the romance gets locked in (or out).  If the Inquisitor says yes, Nicos will say he’s not ready to say the L word yet, but maybe soon.  And shortly after, Nicos becomes more affectionate and open about their closeness and is just a big dork in love.5. If they romanced someone as Inquisitor, would they still fall for that person as a companion? How would that play out? How would they react to that person being romanced by the “new” Inquisitor?If both Nicos and Dorian remain unromanced, they’ll become a thing.  It’ll start on missions and stuff as they share a tent and whatnot (see next question for a lil banter) and yeah that’ll just be a thing.  Cute background boyfriends.  If the Inquisitor romances Dorian, Nicos doesn’t really grow in the relationship sense–meaning he just only has one-night stands and kinda just sleeps his way around Skyhold.

6. Write some of their party banter (in reaction to major events, scenery dialogue, or just shitting around. Askers can specify for which character/event, or leave it up to the writer).Cassandra:                     N: So, Seeker of Truth.  That sounds impressive.                     C: Perhaps.  It is not without merit.                     N: Can you do any cool tricks?                     C: Tricks?  I do not think I would call them tricks, but yes.                     N: You can do tricks, but it’s…not magic, right?                     C: No, the Seekers do not use magic.                      N: Got it.  No magic tricks, then.  So you can’t, like…pull a rabbit out of a hat or anything?                     C: I fail to see how that would be useful.                      N: What if a mage pulled a rabbit out of a hat??                     C: I would like to stuff you into a hat right now.Cassandra (romanced):            N: Ah, isn’t it nice out today, Cassandra?                     C: It is rather warm for once, yes.                     N: The sun is shining, the bees are buzzing, the flowers are blooming. [sighs]                     C: …yes.  It is a lovely day…                     N: And love is in the air.                     C: I don’t know what you’re talking about.                     N: Oh, please.  Look—that flower over there is the color of his eyes, right? C: Stop that….and no, it is not.                     N: See?  This is why he and I could never work.  I can’t even remember the color of his eyes!                     C: [pause, then quietly] that flower there is closer to his shade…Cole:                     C: Why do they call you Nat?  Your name is Nicos.                     N: My initials are N-A-T.  It’s just a nickname.                     C: You wear it like a mask.                     N: That’s…uhm…                     C: Hiding, hoping they don’t ask, it’s simpler if—                     N: Yeah, Nat is simpler than Nicos.  Yep.  That’s why they call me that. C: You’re scared, but they’re your friends.  They won’t hurt you.N: I’m more scared of getting eaten by a bear right now.  Let’s just…focus on the task at hand, okay?Dorian (if Inquisitor is not in a romance with either):                     D: I heard you fell asleep outside again the other night.                     N: Oh?  Oh, yeah.  It was comfortable, no worries.                     D: Truly?  Is that why you kept stretching your neck the next day?     N: No one disturbed me.  No one shoved me out of the tent in the middle of the night.  No one complained I was taking up too much space and he simply had to look his best so ‘let him get some beauty sleep’.                     D: I was drunk and you rolled on top of me.  These tents are small enough without your bulk taking up half of it.                     N: Uh, huh, right.  If you hate it that much, you can sleep outside next time. Dorian (romanced by Inquisitor):                     N: You know—                     D: No.  Don’t want to hear it.                     N: What?  Oh, come on.  I’m sure there’s some things you haven’t tried.       D: No, this is not up for discussion.                     N: Why?  You never know!  He might like it!                     D: I appreciate the offer, but I can do just fine on my own, thank you.             N: Fine, fine, have it your way.  I just think there’s more ways to—                 D: Sweet Maker…Cassandra: Please…stop talking.                      Bull: I liked where this was going.                      Sera: You can tell me, Nicos!                      Blackwall: Someone muzzle him…                      Varric: [chuckles] Time and place, Pup…                      Vivienne: Like a child…                      Solas: Some things should remain secret…                      Cole: …He was talking about your hair.

7. What would be on their tombstone in the fade (what is their greatest fear)?idk how to really phrase it but he’s just afraid of his father being proven right in his beliefs about Nic’s “lifestyle” aka his dad is horribly homophobic and so nic deals with a lot of internalized homophobia and he’s scared his dad was right about everything?8. What kind of Inquisitor would drive them to leave the Inquisition/confront them about their actions (what gets their approval low? what does that scene look like)?Someone cruel, someone who doesn’t care about the little guys, someone selfish…also someone who keeps prodding again and again about his past and not respecting his privacy in that situation. And the scene is just the Inquisitor finding out that Nic and his merc company just up and left without word.  They’re just gone.9. Where in Skyhold would they be found? (e.g. Cole is in the tavern rafters, Leliana in the top of the tower, Varric in the throne room, etc.)In the tower that later becomes either the mage or Templar tower.  Before it’s fixed up, he’ll be up top, watching the horizon.  Afterwards, he’ll be inside interacting with desks or bookshelves, etc.11. How would they grow as a person? How would they compare at the end of the Inquisition as a companion to who they were as the Inquisitor?As a companion, he learns that he’s not wrong.  He meets and befriends all sorts of different people, some a lot like him, and that really helps him.  There’s people just like him and there’s people who accept him for him and they’re all living their lives and doing good so he can too.  There’s not much difference between romanced companion!Nicos and Inquisitor!Nicos.  If he wasn’t romanced (or there’s no background romance with Dorian), he’s kinda a little more hardened.  He believes that he’s never gonna be more than a one-night stand in the “romance” department, that he’s just kind of a plaything so if there’s no romance, he keeps that attitude.12. Do they believe the Herald of Andraste is really the Herald of Andraste?Nah.  He doesn’t really believe in the Maker, so by extension he doesn’t really believe in Andraste?  He won’t like discourage an Andrastian/faithful Inquisitor, though.16. What would the Fear Demon say to them in the Fade to try and discourage them?Basically just anything about his father or the people who really messed him up when he was 18…just telling him he’s wrong for who he is.19. Once Corypheus is beaten, what do they do during the party? Do they stay with the Inquisition, or go somewhere else? What could the Inquisitor do to convince them to stay?He’ll stay with the Inquisition for a while (permanently if romanced). His merc company will move on eventually, once they find a new job now that they’re done helping save the world and shit.  If he’s not romanced, he’ll plan to join them when they leave.  If he is romanced, by either the Inquisitor or Dorian, he’ll stay and follow them wherever.20. How do they react to learning abominations can retain their consciousness and identity, and even live peacefully with their spirits/demons, as seen in Stone-Bear Hold?He’s definitely confused.  He doesn’t understand like basic magic, it’s just not something he can easily wrap his head around, so finding this out really just kinda leaves him very confused.25. In the alternate reality, if they were corrupted with lyrium, how do they act? What’s their attitude about the end of the world/their inevitable death?He feels an odd sense of bravery.  He knows he’s gonna die soon, one way or another.  There’s no hope for him, but he can go out guns blazing so to speak, so he’ll do whatever it takes.