#you know when time was real and shit

[alfredosauce50]

One more night

[Boxer! Denmark x reader] 11

Wordcount: 4, 365 Rating: M for strong language and mature themes

The reader is referred to as she/her

One more night - 11

Off to the races

Mathias rolled his fists against a speed bag, getting it to bounce back and forth rhythmically. A sheen of sweat had glazed over his skin from head to toe, but he never faltered. He was finally back in the zone.

He also lost everything he gained, revealing his past triumphs. Bulging shoulders, a six-pack, and strong legs for a muscular body. He swung into the speed bag one last time, making it rock to and fro.

And he was just getting started.

“You’re in a good mood today,” You commented from the kitchen, sipping a warm cup of coffee. Everyone slept in on Sundays, Allen included, but he got up at nine to do nothing but scribble in his sketchbook.

“Am I?” He lifted his eyes to you, only to look down at his page again. “What gave it away?”

“You’re drawing.”

“I can’t channel my inner negativity sometimes?”

“I think we both know how you actually do that.”

“Okay, fine. You got me.” He mumbled, moving his pencil around for a few finishing touches. Once he was satisfied, he held up his drawing with a proud, toothy grin. “Look. It’s a fortress.”

“Wow,” You mouthed. A smiling stick figure with black shades stood on top of a castle, raining machine gunfire and grenades on the masses below. “And who’s that guarding the fortress?”

“Me.”

“What about all the people down here?”

“I think you know.” He put his sketchbook down.

Now that Mathias moved back home, Allen was the happiest he’d ever been. Even though they were on better terms, this was his home, and he had a very particular idea of what that looked like.

“You guys realize Hammy has been roaming outside his cage for a while.” Amy sauntered in with a squint.

Allen flew off the couch and scrambled into the hallway. With his spot vacant, she plopped down next to you and kicked her feet onto the coffee table. When he came back with his pet, he scowled.

“Hey, you stole my spot!”

“Didn’t see your name on it.”

“I was literally just there!” He stuck out a hand.

“Well, you weren’t for a second.” She hummed.

The three of you, just like old times.

“To think I used to complain about people bringing their babies to the theater,” Amy muttered, collecting her popcorn from the snack bar. She spun around to reveal Bob strapped to her torso. “Now I’m people.”

“And you’re seeing Captain America of all movies.”

“I must be crazy.”

“I mean,” You made a face. Amy was the one who suggested this, but now that she was here, she had to be persuaded. “It was either here or the gym. It’s not your fault Malena couldn’t take him tonight.”

“That’s not even the problem,” She sighed.

“Then what is?” You asked, confused.

“I don’t wanna leave Bob with anybody right now.” Amy hugged him close, face falling slightly.

She still had a hard time being away from her baby after that incident. She didn’t have a choice while working, but now that she was off-duty, keeping him around was always at the back of her mind.

“Then I guess we’ll have to get him used to these kinds of places.” You pulled her along, watching her expression closely. She let you, albeit reluctantly. “There’s a first time for everything, you know?”

“I guess,” She fixed his earmuffs. “Sorry, Bob.”

“When was the last time you went to see a movie anyway?” You asked, walking inside with her.

“Beats me.”

Two hours later, you both emerged from the theater.

“That was fucking amazing,” She let out, smiling from ear to ear. “Bob fell asleep halfway through!”

You and Amy swung by Whole Foods after.

“Do you think he’s gonna win?” She asked, watching you add several bananas to the shopping cart.

The question had been looming over your minds ever since Mathias brought it up. Heavyweight boxers from all over the continent fought under one arena for the belt.

“It’s hard to say,” You shook your head, falling deep in thought.

“Yeah.”

“I’m just relieved he didn’t give up.”

“Me too.” She furrowed her brows.

“Whatever happens, I’m really happy that he’s kinda himself again,” You added, smiling briefly. Because even after everything that happened, he didn’t quit. And that couldn’t be more fitting for who he was.

“Well, I’m glad he’s back.” Amy hummed, though her expression came off as more bittersweet than anything. Your face fell slightly when you picked up on it. “I wouldn’t be telling you this otherwise.”

“Telling me what?”

“That Mat told me,” She inhaled a deep breath before revealing what had been on her mind forever. “He wanted you to move out with him. And I just want you to know that I’m a hundred percent for it.”

“What?” Your heart sank. “He told you?”

“Ages ago, actually. I just never had the chance to bring it up. Didn’t wanna cause any more drama,” Amelia explained, pushing the cart along as she spoke. “What, with everything that went down?”

You turned away, eyes darting restlessly and mind racing with a million thoughts. This whole time?

“Allen would’ve gone nuts.” She widened her eyes.

It was no secret that he loved you dearly, going so far as to use you as an emotional crutch. To leave was to put him in a vulnerable headspace, but you couldn’t be there for him forever, not even if you wanted to.

“Not that he won’t freak out if you told him now, but he might not fly off the handle when you do.”

“But what about the apartment?” You asked, voice faint. Now that moving out was on the table, every doubt you’ve ever had flooded your mind in a rush of anxiety. “And what about Bob? I can’t just leave.”

“We’ll be fine,” Amy assured, holding your shoulder. It was a blanket statement at best, but how else were things supposed to be? “Allen will have to get a job someday. And Bob won’t be small forever.”

“But he’s only six months old.” You uttered.

“He can sit upright and eat scrambled eggs, now. That’s pretty big if you ask me.” She nudged you.

You laughed some, thankful for her lightheartedness.

“But, point is,” She went back to pushing her cart, as reflective of the continuation of the conversation.  “You’ve already been there for the most crucial part of his life. And nine months before that too.”

“Of course I was, Amy. That’s a given.”

“What if it’s not supposed to be given?” She asked, much to your dismay. “You’ve already done so much for us, and I can’t just force you to stay forever. That would be the most selfish thing I could do to you.”

“Maybe,” You replied stiffly. Everything she just said was a stark reminder of what you told Allen once, and you always regretted it from the bottom of your heart. “But you aren’t forcing me to do anything.”

“Really?”

“I love living with you guys,” You let out, voice faint to hide the sadness in it. “You’re my best friend.”

Amy stood perfectly still, overwhelmed by a rush of emotions. Then, she turned to you, eyes wide. When she saw that you were barely holding it together, she did something completely out of character.

She hugged you as tight as she could.

“I know.” She shut her eyes. “But you have to go.”

You hugged her back, lips pursed tightly in a frown. She knew what you really wanted, and would go to great lengths for you to have it. Even if it meant letting you go, the hardest thing she could ever do.

“Do you think Bob will remember me?”

“He will if you visit,” She released you with a content smile, knowing she managed to convince you. So, she took in your face for what felt like the last time. “So don’t go somewhere I can’t get to, okay?”

Getting Amelia on board with the idea was easy because she was already all for it. Allen, on the other hand, would be a completely different story. But you had to tell him someday, even if that wasn’t today.

You pushed the door open to the local boxing gym.

When you got inside, you saw Mathias doing mitt work with Allen. Their brewing friendship was the most unexpected development yet, and you had to cover your mouth to hide your enthusiasm.

They had more in common than they looked.

The sun was almost set when you three walked home together. Allen had his arms folded behind his head, his dark eyes staring into the distance. Mathias had your hand in his, which squeezed you here and there.

“So,” You began, breaking the comfortable silence with a query. “Are you two friends now?”

They both made a face, brows raised and squinting.

“I don’t think Allen would be comfortable with that.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Oh, alright.” You sighed, stifling a laugh at their synchronization. “I was just curious, is all.”

“Saying we’re friends would be putting him on the same level as you. And that’s gross.” Allen mumbled.

“There’s always distinctions you make with different friends you have,” You glanced at him and watched his expression intently, which didn’t seem to change. “Surely you have friends you’re close to, or not at all.”

“Not really,” He shrugged. “I mean, I used to.”

A brief silence followed, and you were left to put the pieces together. Mathias didn’t have any idea what he implied, but you knew better. He must’ve been talking about his pals from Afghanistan.

“It’s fine.” Allen grinned at you. “I have you guys.”

You didn’t say anything more, only bringing his arm down to hold it. He appreciated the gesture, the discreteness of it, and smiled warmly at you to prove it. You smiled back as if to tell him he was right.

He had you, Amy, and Bob.

Slowly, but surely, Mathias could make the cut too.

“You told Amy,” You began, staying in the doorway as he shuffled through his things in his bedroom. Allen waited outside in the front yard, giving you both a moment of privacy, however brief that may be.

Mathias stopped for a moment, back turned to you.

“Are you mad at me?” He murmured.

“No,” You neared him, gaze softening. He glanced over his shoulder, surprised. But that dissolved into relief as soon as you said this. “I’m actually glad you did. I don’t think I would’ve been able to tell her.”

“I’m glad,” He smiled, taking your hands.

You smiled back, warmed by his touch.

“She loves you more than you know.”

Out of the four of you, Mathias was the least afraid of change. It took a lot of faith to carry himself the way he did, and he did so naturally. Without him, you would’ve been stuck in the same place for years.

“So, what did she say?”

Allen kicked a pebble off the pavement. When he glanced up at the apartment again, he saw you two having a conversation. About what, he didn’t know. But he could make a judgement from afar.

The way Mathias looked at you, laughed, then picked you up in the tightest embrace had him wondering if this was the end of everything he knew. It was a huge jump from point a to b, but he wasn’t stupid.

He looked too happy for it to be anything else.

You did too, talking excitedly about something he wasn’t a part of, and never would be. When that dawned on Allen, he turned away, heart in his hand. That night, he walked home by himself.

Out on the balcony where he always was, he knelt over his plants and tended to them. Basil, thyme, sage, and parsley—all Summer herbs. He snipped off the stalks and harvested them for the coming Fall.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I thought you were staying at his place.”

“If I was, I would’ve said that.” You stepped outside with him. When he didn’t respond, you instantly knew he was bent out of shape over something, but what, you didn’t know. “What is this really about?”

“Nothing,” He kept chopping his plants, but his movements grew less and less controlled as he continued. His front was already crumbling, and you just got here. “Everything’s just nice and peachy.”

“Okay, Al.” You relented, turning to the sliding door.

The sight of your back was all it took.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, you don’t have to.”

What remained of his hard exterior was all but gone. You broke him down all over again, and simply by letting him be. He couldn’t take it anymore. Not the distance, or the reality that he could never have you.

“Wait.” He stood up, sighing. “Don’t close that door.”

You stopped halfway through the door frame, your eyes softening at his change of heart. If he had something to tell you, you did too. And your concerns were realer than what he thought he saw out there.

“I wanna talk.”

Mathias knocked on the doorframe of his coach’s office. In his hand was the slip of paper he’d been itching to get for the past month. He handed it to his mentor, who scanned it before tossing it on his desk.

With that out of the way, the old man stood up and brushed past him in a slight hobble.

“Get your wraps. We’re gonna start with the basics.”

Allen stood with you on the balcony, his arms draped over the railing. He stared into the night as he tried to think of the words. After a few minutes of mulling it over, this was the best he could come up with.

“So, what, he propose to you or something?”

“No!” You shot him a heated look, watching his brows go up. “Is that what you were upset about?”

He pursed his lips, hands raised in denial. But seeing that you were unconvinced, he just sucked it up.

“Yeah.”

“Well, he didn’t propose, okay?”

“Then that’s all I wanted to know,” He grinned, voice rich with satisfaction. He went back to his usual self almost instantly, hopping back into the living room. “Now all I’m missing is a kiss for good measure.”

“A kiss?” You stifled a laugh.

“You know I’m only kidding.” He scraped the bottom of his flip-flops against the entry mat to clean them. When Allen faced you again, he leaned against the door frame. “You don’t have to if you don’t wanna.”

He might’ve said one thing, but the gentle smile on his face meant another. And since you couldn’t give him what he really wanted, you gave him the next best thing. You leaned forward and hugged him.

Allen’s arms went around you on instinct, like a reflex he didn’t need to think about. There, he nestled his chin on your head, closing his eyes in the embrace. Then, his smile grew out of a deep sense of peace.

Now this wasn’t so bad. He also got the assurances he needed, so why was he still so sad?

“Listen, Al.”

Mathias raised his gloved fists, bright red in color.

“I have something I need to tell you.”

With his head low and eyes up, he looked intensely focused as he jabbed the sandbag in front of him. Only they were nothing but light taps, hitting the same spot on the leather, over and over.

“Okay, then tell me.” Allen was a little unnerved that you even had to announce it. What he saw tonight, how he always felt around you, and your anxious demeanor only seemed to validate that fear.

“I’m moving out with Mat.” You finally let out.

“Oh.”

A few seconds of painstaking silence went by.

“When?”

Mathias tightened the strings of his hoodie until only his face was left uncovered. Now that Summer was ending, he could feel a cool breeze on his morning runs. The seasons were changing, and so was he.

“I don’t know, but probably sometime after his tournament. We haven’t decided on anything yet,” You answered truthfully, scanning his face for something, anything. But he gave you nothing.

“Does Amy know?”

Or so you thought.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I told her last week.”

“Right.” He looked down, eyes darkening. It was inconceivable that anybody could be so hurt over something so minor, but Allen wasn’t just anybody. “Why am I always the last one to know things?”

“I was gonna tell you, Al. I promise.” You spoke softly, taking his arms. “I just had to find the right time.”

“Why is it always Amy you go to when you know something will affect me most?” He rubbed his eyes with one hand, choking back a sob. “You guys are always keeping things from me and leaving me out!”

“We only do that because we don’t wanna hurt you!” You flushed, making him shake his head bitterly.

“You’re gonna hurt me anyway. So you might as well just say it.” Allen muttered, staring dead into your eyes as a single tear fell from his. His words were cutting, and the way he looked at you, even more so.

“I’m sorry,” Your voice broke. “I never mean to.”

He was right about being excluded, and he had all the right in the world to berate you for it. It was also selfish to expect him to react any different, especially when you’ve always known of his greatest fear.

Being isolated, physically or mentally.

“And you probably already knew that, too.” He shook his head again, turning away to get to your bedroom. But before he could lock himself in it, you grabbed onto his wrist. “You just didn’t wanna freak me out.”

“Of course I didn’t wanna freak you out,” You let out, tone desperate. “That’s the only reason why I have a hard time telling you about these things. Not because I don’t love you, or don’t feel close to you.”

“And how’s that turning out for you?” He faced you, eyes burning with truth. “I’ll find out anyway. I always do. Then I’ll find my own time to freak out. Because that’s just what I do. That’s what I’m the best at.”

Usually, he was the one making compromises in conversations, taking the fall for his faults.

“Losing my temper. Because I’m a fucking manic.”

“That’s not true!”

But right now, he was as quick as a whip.

And he was right about everything.

“It is, though. If it wasn’t, we wouldn’t be here having this fucking conversation.” Allen glared, but his anger with you only lasted so long. “And since we’re here, you wanna know why I flipped out in the first place?”

“Why did you flip out, then?” You uttered.

“It’s not just because I have a thing for you, okay?” He exclaimed, chest heaving and face reddening.

“Then why?” You flushed, eyes darting restlessly.

“Because if you get married, you’re gonna go away.” Allen said shakily, voice faint with unbearable hurt. “You’re gonna go somewhere I can’t get to, get busy, have a few babies, and you won’t have time for me.”

Your face contorted.

“Then you’re gonna forget about me,”

It was unthinkable that you could ever cut him out of your life, but he was already treating it like reality.

“And I won’t be a part of your life anymore.”

“You’ll always be a part of my life, Allen.” You reached up to caress his face, currently streaked with tears. “Even if we won’t see each other as much, I’ll always be thinking of you. And I’d still call and visit you.”

“But that’s not good enough,” He choked.

“I won’t be far, I promise. I promised Amy that too.”

“But you won’t be here.”

“You have to learn be independent from me, Allen.”

He shook his head, breathing too hard to manage a verbal protest. You were asking way too much of him, even if it was just to live out partially separate lives. You were his rock, and he wasn’t ready to let you go.

“But you also have to trust me.”

A string was tied across the ring like a washing line. The gym was dark, save for the spotlight they stood under, coach and pupil. The pupil in question stood next to the line, his shoulder barely just grazing it.

Then, he ducked under it to the other side.

He repeated the motion, bobbing under the line from side to side. By bending down and moving quickly from left to right, he could dodge anything thrown at him. But the timing and range had to be perfect.

“I’m so jealous of Mathias,” He squeezed you, eyes shut tight as he whispered frantically into your neck. “He’s got everything going for him. When he wants something, he just gets it. I can’t do that.”

“I think we’ve all felt that way before,” You admitted, holding him closer. “He’s the best of all of us.”

Mathias rolled under a punch, dodging it like second nature. When he rose, he jabbed his opponent twice, getting them to back up. He was a speed demon, taking advantage of their mistakes on the fly.

With the newly-established distance, he threw his fist up for a killer uppercut. It collided with their jaw, throwing their head back in a splash of saliva. And just like that, his partner fell on the mat, defeated.

“But there’s something you have that he doesn’t.”

“And what’s that?” Allen murmured, pulling back.

“Mathias and I can fight, argue, or even break up one day, but not us,” You answered, frowning deeply. “And I know that sounds bad, but there’s nothing in the world that could change what we have.”

He smiled and bowed his head at what he’d already known, a truth he constantly needed reminding of. But you always knew the right thing to say. And for that, everything felt like it was going to be okay.

“You’ll always be my family.”

“Maybe that’s why I never tried anything,” Allen said. He’d been so hung up over what he could’ve had, he never realized this was what he really wanted all along. “Because I didn’t wanna ruin what we had.”

“And what did we have?” You smiled.

He gazed up at you, eyes twinkling.

“Something perfect.”

He was your best friend, and maybe a little more than that, but he made it a point to never cross that line. What you had with Allen was incorruptible, the kind of love people spent their entire lives looking for.

“Something pure.” He kissed you on the forehead, the most innocent kind of affection one could give. And you leaned in, basking in the warmth of his soft lips. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Allen stayed with you all night. With your body next to his, he never fell asleep so fast. This may only be for so long, but he couldn’t be upset about it forever. You were moving on, and he had to accept that.

“That makes seven rompers and five pairs of pants,”

You sorted through the baby clothes in the basket Mathias held. He insisted on tagging along with you to ‘help you hold things,’ but you had a sneaking suspicion he came for another spending spree.

“Anything else we need?”

“Uhhh,” He scanned the shopping list with a focused expression. “Four pajama outfits… And a tank top?”

“Oh. That’s for Allen,” You pointed at the bottom of the note. “See how the handwriting changes?”

“Oh,” Mathias mumbled. Now that you mentioned it. When he glanced up again, you were off to look for those items, so he did what he thought would be the next best thing: doing some browsing on his own.

When he approached you for your opinion, you were still in the baby section, picking out sleepers.

“What do you think?” He held two outfits in front of you and moved them up and down. “Blue or yellow?

“Those are for newborns, Mathias,” You answered, going back to the rack. “They’re not gonna fit Bob,”

“I know they’re for newborns.”

“If I say ‘blue’ and see the blue one in your dresser, I’m seriously gonna murder you,” You sighed, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. And frankly speaking, you were a little nervous.

“Okaaay. Does that mean you’ll spare me if I buy the yellow one?” He hummed with growing smile.

“Mat,” You shot him a heated look, embarrassed out of your wits. “The bear was cute, but this is crazy.”

“But these are cute too!”

“No, I meant you,” You sighed, stifling a defeated laugh at his outburst. “We haven’t even moved out and you’re already thinking that far ahead. Imagine what Allen would do to you if I ever got pregnant.”

“You don’t have to wait for his approval, you know?” Mathias grumbled, putting both outfits back, blue and yellow. “I know he’s close to you, but what we do is none of his business. So he should stay out of it.”

“Still,” You shook your head. “You’re going too fast.”

“I know, I know. I just got excited,” He sighed, noting how worried you looked. And it was a fair reaction given the kind of person he was. Tenacious, self-indulgent, and apparently, family-oriented.

But he’d be damned if he didn’t already learn his lesson. So he stopped you in the aisle, hands on your shoulders. “I’m not rushing you into anything. Especially not something this important, okay?”

“Good,” You softened your gaze, peering up at him. “Because I don’t wanna fight with you anymore.”

If anything, he’d save this for after the tournament.

“I wouldn’t wanna fight me either.”

You were about to give him an earful for being so unserious, but you let it slide this time. After overcoming a roadblock and months of preparation, he was finally in shape for his biggest event yet.

“Are you nervous?”

“A little,” He grinned. “But I’m ready.”

Next chapter: Finale Part I

Tag-list: @sunnysssol @chicha027 @javelintine @sport-lova @archive-of-bones

[majimasleftasscheek]

:)

[chimerafeathers]

i know we love to rag on Siffrin for feeling so miserably guilty and manipulative for the crime of [checks notes] “doing nice things for their friends so that they’ll be happy and care about him even if it’s not perfectly sincere on his end”

but like. in context i don’t think that thought process is anywhere near as nonsensical as it always sounds written out like that

i’m sure i’m just stating the obvious here but it’s not really about the “crime” of making people happy. it’s about what he’s not doing, which is anything that would allow their friends to have any real knowledge or agency over the situation they’re all in.

it’s about never acting according to his real feelings in the moment and letting them see the messier version of him that exists now, never allowing their relationships to evolve or develop meaningfully beyond the “safest” iteration, the thing that is Known and produces the Correct Results, because anything else has the possibility of leading to negative emotions towards Siffrin.

Siffrin knows he’s not really doing all this for their benefit, not entirely, because the “right” thing to do would give them the full context to choose how they feel and what to do about it. they’re happy, but in a way they don’t get to keep. they’re happy, but in a way that keeps Siffrin safe from anything more complex and real. they’re happy, but only because some Siffrin in the past said the right things once, and this new, bitter, lonely, desperate version wouldn’t know how to get the “correct result” without a script to follow. they’re happy, and it was real once, it meant something once, but not anymore.

they cared about that Siffrin, yes, but would they still care about this one, if they knew? if Siffrin ever allowed them to know? (he won’t, he can’t, he refuses.)

and there’s something that could have been said in favor of Siffrin allowing himself this “selfishness” if it made him happy anyway, if it could be a genuine source of comfort in a difficult situation—but it doesn’t! not really! because that guilt is there, because that fear is there, because of how flimsy it all inevitably feels.

so they’re not doing it for their family’s benefit, because that happiness is predicated on lies and ignorance. he’s barely doing it for his own benefit, because they’re torturing themself by revealing things they no longer want to reveal, concealing things they no longer want to conceal, acting out of fear of rejection rather than genuine desire for connection. who benefits from this hollow “kindness,” really?

that’s why the last loop had to be the ugliest one. Siffrin had to see that the worst could happen and there could still be love and connection on the other side. that even when the party sees the worst of him, when they have the agency he’s been knowingly denying them, they will still choose to love him.

[temporary-tats]

Drew a little comic today!

Viz, let Blake be a little shit to Raven in v10 and my life is yours.

Per usual, do not reupload without credit/permission. Thanks folks!

(My ko-fi, should you wish!)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy Valentine's Day! (and this blog's first post anniversary!)

[bixels]

This Twitter MLP human redesign drama is a mess, leave me the fuck out of it.

[lessthanimpressedlesbian]

I feel so vindicated knowing that we all read those many microexpressions correctly. Laura was really playing an anxious queer woman in love with her best friend so accurately that we couldn't help but pick up on all the little nuances.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

perhaps my most #cancelable videogame take i can post on this website is i think that the kind of people who say that anyone who picks the "morally wrong" or "mean" options in video game dialogue should, as a player, feel bad about their own choices/morals in real life. is that those people are just another flavor of the kind of dudes who play Disco Elysium and get mad for not being rewarded for picking the facist options. both of these groups are reducing games to "a thing I want to agree with me and everyone else who doesn't either suffers or does not have the option to play a character who behaves otherwise" rather than "a medium where you get to (or even Have to) explore different kinds of characters in order to experience the full depth of the story and characters in it."

When I want to pick options in a game that are mean, negative, arrogant, or ignorant, it's because I want to explore what would push a character into becoming that kind of person. Sometimes I want to see how the NPC characters who I-The-Player like/agree with react to someone who is fundamentally different from them. I think it's GOOD actually when the narrative allows you to push limits and especially when it has the option to then punish you for it in some way, such as losing options/routes later on, or companions straight up abandoning you for your choices. It DOES often make me deeply, viscerally uncomfortable to make choices in a game that are so counter to my own, but it means I get to experience that discomfort in an isolated environment and also think about what it means, what would push the character or even yes a real person into actually feeling those things. And I get to play with what ways the narrative could challenge them/make them grow over the course of the game--or on the other side, it can let me make a character who does start off more open/accepting but let the events of the narrative push them into being more reactively closed-minded instead.

I like that we have invented a medium where you can play a game multiple times and experience it differently depending on the character you play as. Books and TV and movies are all static--the greatest draw of games to me is the ones that are responsive, that can tell a slightly different story every time--when other characters in the game respond differently to you because of it, or some paths open up and others don't. And so yes it did disappointment me when a franchise that previously had these elements, Dragon Age, did not include them in the most recent installment. I don't think games should have options where you get to just hit a button to say something racist with no consequences or exploration into why a character would do that. but like, if i can only ever play a game as an upstanding person who is morally right all the time in basically the same flavor for every dialogue. I only get to truly play that game Once, you know? And I only get to see the way the companions react to someone they like and trust. And never really go deeper than that.

So like... I just sit and think about the scenes you can get in Inquisition. with Cassandra breaking down, because she fears she placed a would-be tyrant at the head of a powerful organization--that she searched and searched and chose wrong. Of Varric who is desperate to convince you not to become a monster, like the last person he feels betrayed him. Vivienne intentionally pissing you off because she wants to see how far you'll go when angered, how much she has to worry about your reactions. They say so much about the companions, what they fear most, and where they will draw the line. And especially in Inquisition, at these crisis points--you don't have to double down. Your character can have a come-to-Andraste moment where they go "woah... is that really how people see me? is this what i want?" and I think that kind of option can do way more for encouraging actual players to examine the choices they make in stories, more than locking the player into supportive, non-aggressive options does.

now. do i think all games execute these flavors well? no. writers and devs will have their own biases and blind spots, even if they are otherwise well-intentioned. and I don't think the ends of the scale need to extend from "absolute angel" to "horrible bigot", because the real complexity of course lies in the middle. I am not asking for games to let me be bigoted at every turn, what I want is games that let me make the protagonist deeply flawed in one or more ways--fearfully closed-minded to things outside their upbringing, or afraid of change to the status quo, or who want to advance their own aims regardless of consequences to others. I actually agree that the game was correct not to include any options for disrespecting Taash and their personal journey for example, but I do wish... idk maybe that we could have had a scene where if for instance the player character avoided outside-world missions relating to clearing away blight, they could confront us on how this might devastate the natural world and its creatures like dragons, and push us into trying to resolve it. Or in the other direction, if you spend the (currently meaningless) time giving money to background NPCs begging in the cities, Neve could could have a special cutscene thanking you for your attention to people otherwise beneath notice. You know?

And of course not every game can do this, I can write those sentences up there that represent hundreds of hours of dev time, of course they can't do it all. But the prior games usually did have at least a little of this, and that was enough to make me really fall in love. I KNOW the tumultuous development cycle, restarts from scratch, interference from higher-ups all contributed to why Veilguard was unable to hit those same marks this time. And we probably won't ever know how much of the loss of options/reactivity was intention vs a side effect of these things. But I wish people wouldn't frame players who miss these aspects as insane/morally corrupt. When for most of us it's because we genuinely enjoy challenging and exploring these aspects of reality in fiction in a way entirely unlike what we actually support in real life. i fully acknowledge not everyone desires to play this way. and that's fine!!! i am glad people can enjoy doing a "good" run each time that brings them joy. but for me it really limits the potential bounds of my enjoyment i guess. I like media that is complicated and messy and makes me think, and extra so when I get to see how playing that way impacts the greater story around it.

[sciderman]

The way Kravens Last Hunt wrote Peter makes me convinced Peter has anxiety, like...the way he described his feelings, physicaly and mentaly, was too relatable not to believe that

i mean if you had a muscle-bound hunter out to skin you alive, you'd have anxiety too

spider-sense is kind of like in-built anxiety – and the unfortunate fact is, it's founded on the promise that something bad is, 100% guaranteed to happen.

seconds before disaster

[mumbledramblings]

this one's for the girlies, i know you're out there

[maglarks]

Whenever all the civilians have been evacuated from an area being attacked by rogues the Batfam like to excecute Order 66

This does nothing but send in Red Hood to fuck shit up

Like they’ll have gotten everyone out of a building being attacked and one of them will ominously stare whatever rogue it is dead in the eye and say “Excecute Order 66” and leave without another word. Before the rogue can respond Red Hood is just. there. and ready to cause absolute chaos

[yesterdayiwrote]

I mean this with genuine sincerity, which I'm sure will be immediately rebuffed, but it is actually heartbreaking to see the steady decline into conspiratorial madness of some Lewis fans. Some people I used to find really funny and have a lot of respect for just... consumed by something irrational and motivated by an echo chamber of their own making. It must be so tiring to be in such a perpetual state of anger and suspicion all the time?

[dsnzfb]

Coming On Quickly (R18+)

Cactus/Rose (m/m), cold snz. Just under 5.5k warnings: sex, contagion talk, uncovered snz, cactus is doomed In which Cactus has to deal with some strange new feelings when Rose catches a particularly intense cold.

He felt fine. That’s what Rose told himself when shivering on the way to work. He picked up a cup of tea from his usual coffee shop, though a certain someone wasn’t working that morning. The cold air and steam from the tea was what was making his nose run, not anything else.

The morning was going well, even if he sneezed out of nowhere and dropped his keys as he was trying to unlock the door. Didn’t mean anything.

Another couple of sneezes when he was finally warming up and going through his morning checklist, and Rose finally considered the fact that he might’ve caught a tiny cold.

Just a small one. Not anywhere near bad enough to go home, it was just a sniffle. Besides, he had his tea, the shop was warm (for the flowers’ sake), and he was surrounded by handkerchiefs if he needed them.

His nose was running properly now, soft sniffles no longer enough to keep it at bay, which was definitely chalked up to the change in temperature.

It was a few days post-christmas. He wouldn’t even usually be open this time of year, but it was surprisingly lucrative, especially when his competitors were shut. You never know when someone needs some flowers! A last minute gift, or one ordered weeks in advance to be picked up on a day like today…

Rose sniffled again and rummaged for one of his own handkerchiefs. Didn’t wanna dip into his stock just yet, his nose was only a little drippy. And itchy-

“HheiH-KKSHh! Oh, goodness…”

He didn’t have to hold them back, he realised, but it’s difficult when it’s all you’ve known- ohgod, the itch was back-

“Hhi-KKSHhew! …Ow…”

Okay, that stung his throat. He snuffled into the handkerchief he finally found and flipped the switch on his kettle. He was going to need more tea to get through today, and the one he just bought was getting dangerously low.

His first customer of the day came in about half an hour later, wanting to browse and ask Rose his expert opinion on what flowers to get his mother-in-law to get on her good side for the upcoming year. When trying to offer up assistance, Rose’s nose of course decided that was the moment to start running like a freight train.

“snf! Goodness- please excuse me a moment…” He turned away to blow his nose, though he knew this wouldn’t be the end of it, “All this cold weather, you see…”

“There’s a lot of it going around this time of year.” The customer replied with a sympathetic smile, though Rose noticed them taking a subtle step back. He didn’t blame the guy. From all the dripping and blowing and sneezing he’d done, his nose was probably a cherry red.

“I sound worse than I feel.” He replied, unsure if he really believed himself. His muscles were starting to ache, “Sorry about that. Anyway, you were talking about her favourite colours? We can use it either as a base or as an accent colour.”

“I know she likes pink, but I think it’s the, uh, the really bright one that’s basically red.”

“Magenta?”

The guy looked confused. Perplexed, even.

Rose got out from behind the counter and took him to a bunch of brightly coloured carnations.

“This colour, dear.”

“Oh- yeah, that’s it! The bright pink!”

“It’s quite the bold colour, so I’d recommehhhnd… E-excuse- hhat’sSHHKk!! KkshHHEew!”

Rose realised as he sneezed into his elbow that he’d left the handkerchief at the counter, and that the double was very productive.

“Bless you!”

“My god- sorry- a moment please-” he mumbled into the crook of his elbow, hurrying back to the safety of his handkerchief. He felt mortified as he cleaned himself up.

“I’m so sorry about that, how unsightly, they snuck up on me…” He blew his nose with a slight honk, wincing at how productive even that was.

“Uh, it’s okay? Sorry to make you work when you’re feeling so bad.”

Well, at least this guy wasn’t an asshole. More customers should be like him.

“It’s not that bad, it’s just… Noisy. And annoying. What I was trying to say was that it’s a very bold colour, so it would be best as an accent against a more baby-pink or white bouquet.”

The guy nodded at him, looking now only a little confused. He seemed to get the idea.

“I’ll show you what I mean, if you like. Here- let me just…” Rose got out from behind the counter again, this time bringing his handkerchief with him. He picked out some white flowers – delicate things, big fluffy ones, some light pink roses, and placed them in his demonstrative vase, adjusting them so they were just so.

“So this would be the base…” He said, then going to grab a few more bright flowers, some lilies, carnations, and chrysanthemums.

“And these would be- b…be… Please hold-” he handed the flowers to the customer hurriedly, at least able to prepare his handkerchief properly this time.

“HhpSSHhh!! HhiITSHhew-aahSHOo! Goodness… Excuse me.”

“Bless you, sounds like it’s hitting you hard.”

“It wasn’t this bad earlier, I swear- hhaPSSHHh!!”

Rose sniffled pathetically, muffling a cough into his kerchief. “Sorry, I wouldn’t want you to catch this. Would you just- just put those in the vase?”

The guy followed Rose’s instructions, then the Brit adjusted the positioning of the brightly-coloured flowers so they didn’t overpower the rest of the bouquet.

“Like that. Is that sort of what you were looking for?”

“I don’t really know what I’m looking at, but, uh, yeah? It looks like a real bouquet, way better than what you pick up from the superstore.”

Rose nodded, hiding his streaming nose behind the now thoroughly-used white cloth. “Those bloody places… You know they use dye in the water to make their flowers different colours? Poor things, it’s not that hard to breed other strains… Anyway, thank you for the compliment! It’s words like that that make it all worth it.”

Giddy from the kind words about his work, Rose happily took payment for the bouquet, finished it up, and wrapped it in acetate and coloured tissue paper.

“I hope your m-muhh- hhGTShh! GgsHHh! -snf!- Mother-in-law likes it!”

“Thanks a ton, feel better!”

Rose deflated when he heard the bell on the door signify the customer was gone. How exhausting - and he wasn’t even a troublemaker!

He decided to rummage in his drawers to see if they had any medicine, brows furrowing as each one came up empty.

“Well, shite.” He cursed, blowing his ever-running nose again. He took a handkerchief from the piles in the store and made a note to write it off - it was at this moment he regretted making them scented. He wasn’t allergic to perfume or scents, but his nose was so sensitive from this accursed cold that-

“HhaPSSHHh!! PPSHhew-aashHiiee-iiISHHhoo! Hhat-TSSshh-SSHh-SSHHew! Oh my god!”

His eyes were watering now, and he dabbed at them with a dry corner of the cloth. Is this how Cactus felt when he gave him his number?

Speaking of Cactus, maybe he could swing by some medicine, maybe a box or two of tissues… Rose was fairly certain that if he kept using his handkerchief, his nose would violently protest all day long.

‘Morning sweetie 🥰🌹’ he sent the text. Cac had not long taught him how to use emojis, and he had great fun choosing the right ones for the occasion.

A few minutes later, he got a reply:

‘mornin, what’s up?’

‘I don’t always text when I want something from you, do I? 🗣️’

‘not always, you just sayin hi? heheh hi there cutie’

‘Well… Maybe a little more than just saying ‘hello’. Could you pop over with some paracetamol and tissues, dear? It’s not a big deal, I just can’t leave the shop unattended.’

‘ur sick?’

‘Just a sniffle.’

‘yeah, sure it is. gimme 20.’

‘Love you, dearest. 💓’

“There we are. I hope he doesn’t worry himself silly.” Rose spoke aloud to himself, noting the stuffy and almost gravelly nature of his voice. Gods, he really did sound worse than he felt. He sniffed experimentally and found that instead of dripping, one nostril was now utterly blocked.

His nose felt hot and itchy and- wait, like something was moving? Oh- he squished his nostrils up against the new handkerchief to find that it was starting to run, even while supposedly blocked. How kind.

Ugh, and the proximity to the perfumed cloth-

“hhaPTSH!! AahYISHH! Ha… Hhhuua-AIITSHHhew! My giddy aunt, I can’t stop sneezing… Maybe toilet paper will just have to do for now… This blasted scent is too much…”

Rose sipped at his tea, but even the warmth from that couldn’t stop a shiver washing over him, then another stuffy attempt at a sniffle. A mistake, perhaps, as it stoked the embers of a tickle in his nose into flames, and he ducked into a wad of toilet roll, scratchy against his red nostrils.

“iiHhaPTSHHew! AAESHOO!! …Guh… Unsightly…”

Another shiver to make him cross his arms, and he pulled up a chair at the counter. He wasn’t usually one to use it, since he always had something or other to be getting on with, but… His arms hurt, his chest ached from sneezing, and he couldn’t seem to get warm. Was the central heating on the blink, or something?

…He couldn’t be bothered to go check. He’d need all his energy for if a customer came in, to put on a smile and save face. For now, though, with soft jazz playing as his store's ambient music, he found himself zoning out. Then his eyes started to flutter closed. He had things he should be doing, really, but… He just ached so much, and he was cold. Moving would lose him the warmth he tried so hard to gain.

The bell chimed, signifying an entrant, and Rose jumped, quickly wiped his nose, and opened his mouth to greet them.

“Hey, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?” came a low voice, warm like spiced honey.

Oh, he could cry. What an angel. What a darling. Here to save the day.

“Cac…”

“So… Just a sniffle, huh? Sure looks like it.” The blond approached with an eye roll, then side eyeing the flowers surrounding them, “You’re lookin’ pretty under the weather. Glad I trusted my gut.”

“What do you-” Rose was interrupted by a bag being set down on the counter in front of him.

“Stopped by a pharmacy, thought you might need some more actual supplies. Go on, you can look.”

Rose took things out one at a time: cold medicine, thank goodness, a decongestant spray, cough drops, several boxes of tissues…

“Aloe vera? You’re a saint.”

Cac laughed at that, “I just know what you’re like. Keep lookin’.”

Wait, why was the bag warm?

He pulled out a watertight container with a thick liquid in it, and blinked at his boyfriend.

“You got me soup?”

“The, uh… It’s… There’s a place right by the pharmacy, so it wasn’t outta my way or nothin’, and it smelled pretty good, so… Got you their soup of the day… Figured you probably hadn’t eaten. It’s minestrone.”

“It’s perfect. You didn’t have to do this for me- god, I’m going to cry…” Rose’s throat tightened, hot tears welling up in his eyes. He wasn’t exaggerating.

“H-Hey, don’t-! Uh- I can’t take it back, but- I brought this stuff to make you feel better!”

Scrubbing his eyes to wipe away the tears, Rose spoke with a wobbly voice, “I’m touched, dear… You’ve done so much for me…”

Cactus’s large blonde eyebrows furrowed in worry at this, “You’re pretty emotional, you must be feelin’ like shit… Just gonna check somethin’, okay?”

That was all the warning Rose had before a hand was placed on his forehead, which then moved to his cheek, under his chin, and finally, behind his neck.

“You’re runnin’ a fever.” the larger man concluded with a frown.

“Explains why it’s so bloody cold in here…”

“Yeah, cause it’s not. You always got the heatin’ on. But, uh… Look, you take your meds, do what you need to. Want tea?”

Rose motioned to his half-full mug, “I’m good on that front, but thank you.”

Cactus nodded and pulled his coat off, hanging it over Rose’s shoulders like he was some sort of heated coat stand.

“Put that on.”

“Cactus, no- I’ll get my germs all on it, and you’ll…”

“No ifs, ands, buts, or coconuts. Boyfriend cold. Boyfriend get coat. Gonk get club, ooga booga, whatever.”

Rose couldn’t help but snort with laughter, hurriedly plucking out a fresh and blissfully soft tissue to clean himself up. His cold wouldn't even let him laugh without making a mess of him?!

The redhead blushed when he lowered the tissue to find Cactus smiling at him warmly.

“W-What, do I have something on my face, or…?”

“Nah, just thinkin’ bout how cute you are.”

��In this state?!”

“Hell yeah.”

Instead of frying his brain further to think up a retort, the Brit instead busied himself with taking pills and opening his soup. He couldn’t smell it, but it looked totally homemade. He’d need to bug Cactus about the exact location of the restaurant later. He took a spoonful of it, the flavours experienced even through his dulled senses.

“…Sorry it ain’t, uh… I mean- if I knew earlier, I woulda made some soup for ya myself, but for you to actually ask me for help, I wasn’t gonna make ya wait…”

“Oh, stop apologising, you silly thing. This is delicious, it’s perfect. You can make me your soup next time, I’m sure this stupid body of mine won’t leave it too long before the next bout of illness…”

“How, uh… How long have you known you’ve been feelin’ bad?”

“It came on this morning, so it’s only really been a couple of hours.”

“So fast? You’re in for a rough one, huh… Hey, see if your cousin can cover you the next few days. Got a feelin’ you’re gonna need the rest.”

“I couldn’t do that to hiih-.. hii…iihhm- hhiIESSHOOO!!” He’d managed to move the soup away just in time, thanking the stars for his increasingly dramatic hitches.

”Oh my god, bless you! Geez, that was one hell of a sneeze! They all been like that?”

“Ow…. Owowow…. Not all, but they’ve been pretty strong…”

“Yeah, you’re definitely gonna need to take some sick days, jeez… Thought you were gonna fall off your chair!”

Rose spluttered, cheeks further reddening, “I-It wasn’t that big…”

“Are you kiddin’ me? Your usual sneezes are quiet, rapid, and there’s, like, loads of ‘em.”

“Well, I suppose ‘loads’ is still right… It’s just… Teasing me!”

“…Mm, I know that feelin’.” Cac rubbed at his own nose, smiling knowingly when he saw Rose’s eyes widen at the action.

‘I know what you are.’ said his grin.

“I’m… I… Suppose you would, wouldn’t you… Hhu-uuh- hhaAH-!”

“hhrRSSHHHOOOoh!”

Cactus’s booming sneeze interrupted the redhead, giving a cough and a sigh before paying full attention again.

“Jeez, sorry. All these flowers, then… Seein’ you all itchy made me feel itchy…”

Rose was silent for a moment, as if he was in shock, then groaned.

“You stole my sneeze away!”

“Scared it off, huh?” Cac sniffled, “Hey, uh… Why don’t you, uh, close for lunch? Sure would suck if someone walked in while you were tryna eat your soup…”

Rose looked up at him, mind foggy and thoughts muddled. It took him a moment to connect why his boyfriend was talking so suspiciously, and why he had a slightly nervous look on his face.

“F-Feel free to flip the sign and lock the door, sweetheart. It would be awkward if that were to happen, after all…” He dabbed at his drippy nose and kept eating. Even if Cac was suggesting what he thought he was, Rose didn’t want this soup to go to waste.

“Maybe we should go to the staff room, too… These flowers are really startin’ to get to me.” The American commented, enjoying the shiver that ran through Rose’s body, one he knew wasn’t from the fever.

“Is that so… Poor thing, so allergic. Tragic that this is my job, mmm?”

“Is it tragic? Could be worse if you found my allergies super gross, or something…”

Rose picked up his box of soup and a handful of tissues and brought them to the staff room. Cactus followed after locking the door, picking up everything else left behind. Rose was already burying his face into a new tissue with a wet, honking blow, followed by hitches, and hitches, and… Nothing.

Sympathy gripped Cac’s heart, to see Rose succumbing to his cold so quickly had him wanting nothing more than to hold his boyfriend close, to stroke his hair. To help him along.

He took a seat next to the redhead, rubbing his back, “I really did scare it off, huh? Sorry ‘bout that.” 

“It’s… Guh, it’s okay… You didn’t mean to. They’re my flowers, after all…”

“You finish up that soup, then I’ve got an idea.” The shorter man stood up again, making his way to a nearby shelving unit. It was there that he found a feather duster - real feathers, and real dust.

This, of course, would be overkill, so he carefully pulled out a single feather from the bunch. It would help Rose just the same.

Only when the sick brit had his fill of his lunch did Cactus approach him again, nerves twisting his stomach.

“This, uh… I wanna try and help you, but if I go too far…”

“I’ll tell you.” Rose assured him, a smile on his face, “Believe me, I won’t be quiet about it.”

He scrunched up his nose again, clearly very itchy. Shaking his head again in irritation, he scrubbed at his nose with his knuckles.

“Gghghghh-!! God, this is driving me crazy. If I’m going to sneeze, then just do it, you know? Bloody thing…”

“Heh, uh, that’s… Well…”

Cactus brandished the feather in front of him.

“Oh, I see your game plan, big boy.”

Without further words, Cactus traced the feather flat against Rose’s nostrils, watching them quiver and start to run at the new irritant. It didn’t stop the dust dislodging from the barbs at each tickly sniffle, and soon had Rose’s teary eyes shut as he hitched, and hitched, and…. Faded away again.

He groaned, so Cac tried another tactic – direct insertion. This time, his nose couldn’t dare fight back against the dusty, pointed, yet soft tip of the feather tickling what felt like every molecule of his nasal cavity.

“Hh-hhgh-eeh-!! C-Cactus, I’m going… Going to… HhaAAESSHOOOo!! AadsshhEW-AASHHHheEWw! Oh my god, sorry, please m-m-move- hhaSSHEW-ASSHHOO! ATTCHHOO! H-HAAAHH… AahSSHHYEWW!!”

As Rose finally sneezed over and over, rapidly, harshly, and spraying on anything in front of him, he couldn’t think of anything but the incredibly itchy tickle in his nose that had to get out, now.

Cactus didn’t care at all that he was being sneezed on. He signed up for this when formulating this plan, after all. If he caught it, he caught it, and since Rose would enjoy that anyway, it’s no loss.

He actually felt his cheeks warming as the man in front of him repeatedly lost control. Was this…?

He was definitely getting turned on by the situation in front of him, but he didn’t want to overdo things - Rose was clearly feeling awful, he didn’t have to deal with Cactus coming onto him as well.

Thoroughly a mess, Rose blinked up through tears at his boyfriend, barely able to read his expression.

“Bless you, holy shit… That’s one hell of a cold you caught.”

“It’s… H-ha-aah… HhuUUH-IISHhhEW!! Ghhwah… S-sou’ds worse-”

“-Than you feel, yeah. But I gotta say, it looks about as bad as you sound.” Cac tugged out a tissue from the box with one hand, cupping it over Rose’s very red and irritated nose.

“Blow. That’s it, good boy…”

He followed instructions. He was, after all, a good boy.

“Feelin’ any better?”

“Idt’s- snfk! … It’s not as itchy as it was before… My nose, that is. Still something up in there, like the cold’s doing a jig on my poor nerve endings, ready to set me off at any time…”

Cactus swallowed, trying hard not to stare as he pulled away the used tissue.

“That sensitive?”

Rose rubbed at his eyes as he nodded in return, “Mm-hhb.”

Cactus sighed. Poor thing, feeling so sick, and so suddenly… Stuck at work when tons of people were off for the holidays… He could make his-

“Hha-aah-KKSHhh!! HhaPTSHHYEWW!! Oh my god, see? Any bloody moment…”

-day better, at least? Focus, Cactus. Improving Rose’s day doesn’t automatically mean sex.

Rose had sneezed his glasses off the moment prior, the pair falling into Cac’s lap.

“Oh- fuck, I can’t see a thing…”

An exaggeration, but Rose’s lenses were pretty strong. Giving them a cursory wipe, Cac put them back on for him, trying to avoid hitting his nose with the bridge of his glasses, nostrils red and twitchy, like they had a mind of their own.

“Ah- thank you, sweetheart. Now I can see your handsome face properly. Ah- that being said, I’m… I’m so sorry, you’re going to catch this, and… It really is quite awful, you were right the whole time… And I’ve been sneezing all over you!”

“I made my peace with that ages ago. You…” Cac swallowed again, forcing himself to push through nerves and make eye contact with his boyfriend, “You know I don’t mind. Look, uh… So you don’t keep freakin’ out… Can I kiss ya? If it’s pretty much confirmed already, will you be able to relax a bit more?”

“I… I suppose it’s too late now, anyway…” Rose sniffled, then blew his nose again, “I’m stunned you’re not running a mile.”

“Shush, ain’t nothin’ could scare me off.” The blond closed the distance between the two, glasses bumping awkwardly as they kissed.

‘His mouth is hot. Fuck, that’s so sexy. It’s a fever though, behave.’

Mentally scolding himself didn’t do much to stop him, though, the intensity of the kiss growing deeper until Rose pulled away to breathe.

“…Hah… Phew… You’re doomed now, then- oh!”

At this point, Cactus was practically on Rose’s lap, and the Brit was staring down at him.

“Well, hello there,” Rose grinned, “Someone’s keen.”

Oh. Fuck. He had an erection, and it was definitely pushing up against his boyfriend.

“Shit- sorry, you’re sick, and- and all miserable, and- fuck, you don’t need this on top of everythi-”

Rose pulled him in for another kiss, this one needy and wanting and passionate.

“If I’m going to feel like this, why not enjoy it? I didn’t realise you got it this badly. Before, it was sort of… The situation. But this…? You’re finding me sneezing all over you sexy, mm? I should apologise, really. This is my fault…”

“Don’t… Don’t apologise, fuck… I wanna do it with ya, but… Feelin’ guilty as it is.” Cactus felt his face warming shamefully. He didn’t wanna be responsible for making his boyfriend worse.

“Orgasms can help clear your sinuses. Consider it a treatment, Doctor Asta.”

The shame Cactus had been feeling quickly left and was replaced with lust. Rose was as into this scenario as he was, it seemed.

“A treatment? Guess I’ll have to administer it for ya, then. It’d be cruel not to, right? Especially if my patient is askin’ it of me.”

A pause as he considered his next words.

“Do they turn you on?” He asked, “Your own sneezes, I mean.”

“It would be quite debilitating if they did, but… I have to admit, the grip this cold has on my poor nose is quite titillating…”

“Mm, it’s getting chapped already.”

“So the short answer is ‘no’, the long answer is ‘yes, sometimes, if I’ve got a big guy like you here to share them with’.”

Cactus grinned and kissed him again, “And ain’t ya glad I am?”

“Mm, awfully so. It’s quite the cold, you know… In a couple days’ time, you’ll be holed up in bed, I’m sure, making your way through several packets of tissues. Goodness, if it can make my sneezes this intense, I dare not think what it’ll do to yours…”

Cactus slid his hands up under Rose’s sweater vest to pull it off expertly, “We’ll just have to find out.”

“Ehehe… Mm, your hands are cool…”

“Your skin is hot. Only you could run a fever the first day of a cold.” Cac removed his boyfriend’s shirt as well, not bothering to unbutton it. His own hoodie was discarded swiftly after, Rose watching hungrily as more of Cac’s brown skin and white vitiligo was shown.

“My god, I love you… You’re everything… I just want to kiss all these… These gorgeous marks all over your body…”

“Mm, yeah? You’ll have a tough time.”

“Why?”

“I’ll be too busy kissin’ all your freckles.”

As if to prove his point, Cactus started placing butterfly kisses on Rose’s cheeks, then his shoulders, which made the Brit giggle.

“S-pff-Stoooop, that tickles! Okay, okay, you win! I give! Haah… Phew…” Rose coughed lightly and pushed his glasses back up his nose, then quickly returned to touching his boyfriend’s torso. Then lower, and lower… So soft, so warm. Even with a fever, Rose’s hands struggled to retain heat, so he loved to steal it from him.

“You playin’ with my tummy, or are we having sex?” Cactus questioned, tone light, “Though, if you’re having second thoughts-”

“Nope! No such thing! You really think I’d decide, ‘no, actually, I don’t want to have hot kinky sex with my boyfriend’? If that happens, call a demon hunter, because that’s a changeling.”

Now that was taken care of, Cactus traced his own hands over Rose’s sensitive body, cock twitching whenever his boyfriend reacted, whimpered, or whined.

“I… I want you inside me, Cactus…” The redhead pleaded.

A nod. “Mm, good choice. Wouldn’t want ya wearin’ yourself out.”

“Lube’s in… In the drawer… Second one down, under the- the… HhaPPSSHIEW!! …The plant encyclopedia… We don’t really use that book, so… It’s a good place…”

Cactus blessed him as easily as he breathed, following instructions to find the small bottle underneath a deceptively large book. Who knew there were so many flowers?

“Okay, ya ready?” Cac poured out a small handful, warming it in his palms.

“I’mb- snf! -always ready for you, darling.”

Oh, the seduction of it all. And yet it still drove Cac crazy.

“Good boy. Pants off, and spread your legs for me.” Cactus praised him again, knowing how much Rose loved it. His commands were followed immediately, and he almost got distracted by how red and needy Rose’s cock looked.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m goin’ in…”

He pushed a digit into Rose’s ass, eliciting a short gasp from the other man. Like the rest of his body, it was warm inside him, more than usual.

Expertly coating the inside before adding a second finger, Cac looked up at his boyfriend. He loved his expressions dearly, it was amazing how easily emotions showed on his face.

Just before he could add a third, Rose tensed, and tightened, and-

“Hhi-iih-… hiiih… Iih’SSHHEW!! IhpSSHh! Kktsh- hhaAH- AAHtsSHYEWW!!”

Cactus blinked, a deep blush growing on his cheeks. He wondered briefly what it was gonna feel like when he was actually inside Rose and he sneezed like that…

“…I, uh… Wow, bless you.”

“Guh, thank you, dear… This’ll be you, soon…”

“…Fingers in my ass, too?”

“If you want there to be.”

Once Rose was starting to squirm, greedily hoping that Cac’s fingers would hit his prostate, the blond pulled them out.

Rose whined.

“Just a sec, okay?” Cactus used his other hand to lube up his dick - not that it needed much help - and gently, carefully pushed in. Wiping his hands off on a nearby towel, he then held Rose’s waist, using the grip to start thrusting into him rhythmically.

God, it was so hot inside him, the sensation was incredible. They needed to fuck more often when they were sick, especially with Rose so eager.

“Just- nnh! T-tell me if… If it’s too much… I’ll stop whenever you-”

“Oh my god, Cactus Asta! If you stop, I’ll decimate you where you stand!!”

“Got it, no stoppin’.”

“Fffuck, I’ve missed this… I… Nnh… God, I love you… Hey, um…” Rose took his glasses off and haphazardly threw them on a nearby surface, “You can use that feather, if you want… It felt pretty… HhaANH~!! P-pretty good…! Maybe that’s an understatement, but-”

Before Rose could finish his sentence, Cac had needily grabbed the feather and was starting to tickle his lover’s sensitive nose with it, almost in a trance himself.

“W-Whoa- that’s… That’s reeeaahh… Really… HhaAH-!! HHAPt’TTSHHhewW! AAHGTSSHHOO! HH-…! …hhPSHHEW-AAHTSSHOO-AAYYIISHHHH!!”

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, the way Rose clenched with each sneeze, the lack of any attempt to cover, spray glistening on Cac’s chest, it made the blond whimper with need.

“Nng-ghh… Bless you…” He swallowed the whine and almost growled instead, “Good boy… How’s your nose feeling?”

“Hhh… Hhgh-AAaahn..!! It’s… It’s itchy… snf! And drippy… Kind of sore… It’s hot, and that makes it tickle m-moohhre… And the… The d-dust… On that featherhh!! I-… I have to sneeeh… Eeehh… eeeze again…”

Rose was killing him here. He knew what it was like on the receiving end of this, so this teasing had to be on purpose…

It took one swipe of the feather under his quivering nostrils to set off another fit.

“HhaDSSHH! TTSHh-iiIISHh-iisHHEW! HHitSHh! Aah… Haaah… aaAATSSHYYEWW!! …Oh my god, this cold!”

Cac pulled him close, hugging Rose while thrusting into him now. It took all his self control not to bite the taller man, and he choked out another blessing.

“Nngh~ Cac, it’s driving me c-crazy- and… And… Ah- there!!” Rose called out, arms wrapping around his lover. He left scratch marks on Cactus’s back as he grabbed needily at him, something he would have to rub ointment into later.

Cactus kissed him again, fucking deeply and rhythmically, “There, baby?”

“MmhaaAAH~!”

“Yeah, that’s it…! Fuck- you’re so tight, so hot, I can barely take it! I… NnGGgh…” Cactus squeezed his eyes shut, starting to become overstimulated. He could hold out, but…

“Whatever you do, Rose… Nnhah… Don’t sneeze… O-or… Or I’ll cum…”

“What-?!”

As hot as that statement was, Rose couldn’t help but question it.

“I… You know me, how on earth do you expect me to not s-sneeze when I’m… I… T-this cold, it’s… And the dusty feather you-”

Cactus dropped the feather and clamped his hand over Rose’s mouth in panic.

“D-don’t-…!”

A mistake, as Rose then had to breathe through his nose, and with the dust from the feather now on Cactus’s hand…

“Mmgh-mmn!!” The Brit tried to warn him, but it was too late. Even if Cac pinched his nose now, it wouldn’t help. Tension built between the two, of the blonde trying to hold back his orgasm, and the redhead, his oncoming fit.

Slowly, worriedly, Cac removed his hand, allowing Rose to properly hitch.

“I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’…”

“Hh-hhiIIH-!! I-it’s… It’s okay… B-but I don’t thiiiIIHHh!! …think I can h-hold back… for very long.”

All the while, they were still fucking at a good pace.

“M-Me neither… Fffffuck, is this what you were feelin’ the whole time? How the hell is it s-so- so niche?”

“Let’s not get into the iiih… HhaAH…! …ins and outs of… Fetish distribution right now…”

“R-Right, right…”

“Oh god, Cactus, I’m… I’m g-going to… Hhaa-AAah! Hh-iitSHHhhYEW!! aahTSSH-kktSHHh! Kktssh-SSHHYOOo!! HhaPTSSHHeww! Ohmygod-HHITSSHh! Iitshh-sshh-tsSHHh!! C-can’t stop- AATSHhOOo! H-hhaa-AAPsSHH! GGHTSSHUUu!”

As warned, Cac couldn’t take it anymore, and came violently during Rose’s fit. His partner was driven over the edge himself at the feeling of being filled while helplessly sneezing, making a mess of Cactus’s stomach.

“Oh… Oh my god… Fuck, bless you.” Cac panted, slowing down and pulling out of his lover, “Sorry for the mess inside ya… Couldn’t… Haah….”

“It’s… It’s okay… Wow…” Rose coughed, wheezing from the exertion, “I… Phew… Think I need my inhaler…”

Cactus fumbled around the desk until he felt a familiar plastic shape, then pressed it into Rose's hands, “I… hah~ I got it…” 

After gratefully taking a couple of puffs and feeling his lungs settle down, he felt something in his nose shift as well, and took a cursory sniff. “Oh, hey! See, I told you orgasms are a decongestant!”

“You sure did. When I get this cold’a yours, you wouldn't mind, uh, givin’ that treatment to me, wouldya? Got a feelin’ I'm gonna need it.”

[dykedvonte]

I keep seeing fanarts of ppl's OC's being on the ship, so do you think that if there was 6st crewmember (specifically, another woman) Anya would've been more safe? Like, someone to actually call Jimmy's begaviour out, someone Anya might wanna trust? Is there a possibility something might have changed (even if a little) or it would not have mattered at all?

-💀

I feel like the game would make it part of the commentary on where she would believe and help Anya but still be sort of dismissive? Like the whole “don’t waste time crying and being scared keep going and move on, don’t let him win”. It’s supposed to be positive and reinforcing but sometimes it does more damage in those times of mourning and grief, it feels patronizing, like you don’t understand what you’re going through but they do. Even if they did call out his behavior it’s still on Curly to act and while another voice would help, it’s still 4 against 2 on guys that don’t get it until they have to vs women who always have to.

I don’t mind mouthwashing OCs but I do get a bit bored as they tend to be borderline saviors or like Jimmy aligned. They are either more complicit than Curly or just Jimmy haters for no reason, outside of what the creators know about what he did to Anya. I am never irked by OCs but in a story like mouthwashing you really need to think about what your character adds to the commentary, especially if they are there during the crash. It’s nice to have like characters on Anya’s side more whole heartedly and interesting to see characters who placate Jimmy but sometimes it’s one note.

I can’t and don’t want to police peoples OCs it’s never my intention when I comment on trends I notice, but I do feel like the way people make their OCs interact with these two characters and especially Curly, really show a grave misunderstanding of the narrative and these characters as people vs roles in the story. Still, I know people just make up characters for fun and that’s fine. Great even, but I guys I’m focusing more on OCs that are supposed to have those serious dynamics. My favs tend to be pretty-Tulpar or post-Tulpar au OCs.

The inevitably of the crash is on Jimmy. He did that not because he wasn’t stopped but because all his means to kill Anya were taken. The gun, the axe. Even if Curly did strip him of his co-pilot privileges and try to keep him contained there’s only so many people. An extra body helps but they have jobs they have to do, he’s the only one steering the whole ship and Jimmy would likely have an out: food, bathroom, etc. He’s not new and if he couldn’t crash the ship directly, who’s to say he wouldn’t sabotage something else? A clunker like the Tulpar wouldn’t take much. An extra person helps but it’s just another thing that prolongs what a person like Jimmy is willing to do to shirk responsibility.

It’s more than just needing someone to stand up to him and think that’s what is missing when it comes to inserting a character into the mouthwashing setting.

[essektheylyss]

Honestly, I'm very excited to find out what happened to Caleb and Beau, but specifically because Ludinus's current status is WILD for Caleb's epilogue in particular. It means his boyfriend is basically free and clear of everyone who has explicit material knowledge of the deal he made. It means the goal he planned to dedicate his life to is basically complete within six years. It means that virtually no one left on the Assembly cares much what kinds of changes he makes to Soltryce from here on out.

Ludinus is on the moon and probably not coming back, given the general expectations of the heroic fantasy genre, and the rest of it is a whole lot of "not Caleb's problem".

What does this man even do with the rest of his life?