#bc some of them are way too complex or else not complex enough

[hey-heigo]

captain meow meow and princess fuck ya life

damon and eva | grace and wolfgang | toshiko and ulysses | diana and kai | desmond and eloise | jett and mark | ingrid and cassidy | jean and wenona

i had trouble with jean at first...trying to figure out how to pattern him and then make it so that the outfit balance worked out (having him be ass naked just didn't sit right) so i ended up giving him little boots

he's missing his anchor pendant and red waist sash but honestly i just couldn't be bothered to draw those. i did try to draw scylla and charybdis on his headband though

cutie mark is a dragon shaped like an anchor, twined with rope. something about seafaring and going down with his ship, idk

hiii wenona....anyways. she's probably the most princess-y of all the others...not an alicorn though

i probably made her patterns a little too complex but i just really liked how the blue and green contrasted the base brown so i went ahead and had fun with it. trying to both represent mountain ranges and also the princess hoof shoes that celestia has in mlp canon

really had trouble with her cutie mark, because i designed her right around the time i watched her ftes. and the concept for it previously was kinda...lackluster.....i ended up trying to combine the night sky and stars with plot points and graphs for stock growths. the lines of the graph is supposed to form a bear catching a fish, with the fish's head being an arrow pointing upwards (for the rapid growth of her conglomerate). this is probably way too complex for a cutie mark but it's fine she deserves it

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

then send me a son

pairing: joel miller x reader

cws/tags: so much angst (w/ happy ending! i swear), discussion of suicide attempt (the canon one), suicidal ideations, losing a child, losing a parent, survivors guilt, discussions of abortion, unplanned pregnancy, p in v, oral sex, virginity loss (but it's not that big of deal/not a kink), both dealing w grief, ellie is dead, this is set in jackson post tlou pt I

summary: joel is put on suicide watch after he returns to jackson w/o ellie and reader becomes his 'caregiver' of sorts. lowkey enemies to lovers but also not bc it's kinda one-sided 'hatred'

a/n: author is pro-choice! and also understands the complexities of mental health that reader and joel do not at times (just wanted to make it clear that i understand... from personal experience... what depression is like as well as suicidal ideation).

title is from the song 'the suburbs' by arcade fire, but listen to the entirety of the suburbs (album) and funeral (album) if you want to understand my mindframe while writing this

the last sentence is a quote and i've reblogged it before but i'll find the image and post it/reblog it again

wc: 9.4k

masterlist | ko-fi | taglist

Joel is just surprised Tommy has the gall to ask, “Where’s Ellie?” when he arrives in Jackson alone. 

In this world, when two people leave and only one comes back, you don’t ask because you already know what happened. You wait for that person to tell you about a miracle, and when they don’t, you know for sure. 

“Heaven, if you believe in that sort of thing,” is Joel’s response. 

But Joel doesn’t believe in Heaven or Hell, or anything other than ashes and dirt. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Tommy says because he’d already said ‘I’m sorry’ when Sarah died, and that didn’t bring her back. 

It takes a hefty amount of booze to get Joel to tell the story.

“I just hope she died for something. Then, at least, I’ll know I’m being selfish.”

I didn’t get that with Sarah, he thinks. She didn’t die for a ‘noble cause’. He doubts Ellie did either. 

“You’re being put on watch,” Maria tells him the next morning – when he’s sober and asking what his duties are now that he’s back. 

Life goes on, which means work goes on, so what’s my job? As long as it’s not burning bodies, I’ll be okay. 

“Watch? Like I’m watching, or I’m being watched.”

“Being watched.”

He asks why, though he doesn’t need to. Tommy knows why he’s got that scar on his forehead. 

“Fucking authoritarian bullshit,” he mutters, half into his pillow. “Thought you were a communist.”

“I am. And this has nothing to do with that.”

“I bet Tommy put you up to it anyway.”

“He didn’t ‘put me up to anything’.”

“But he told you, didn’t he?”

“He told me a long time ago.”

“Figures. You always knew I was a coward.”

“You say stuff like that, and then act like you don’t need help.”

“I didn’t say I don’t need help. I said I don’t want it.”

She’s silent, letting him continue. “Now let me grieve in peace, will you?”

She hums something akin to agreement, but asks for something that sounds like protest to him. “Where’s your gun?”

“Which one?”

“All of ‘em.”

He tells her because he doesn’t want Tommy or anyone else searching through all his bullshit because that’s what happens if he doesn’t give ‘em up.

“Want my kitchen knives too?” he says, almost wryly. 

She takes most of them, but leaves the more blunt ones out of sympathy. He can have butter on his toast. Unless she takes the toaster so he can’t take it with him in the bathtub. 

She leaves the toaster, and then, leaves him alone. 

Quite frankly, he’s too old to kill himself. Sure, people do it at his age, but he’s so goddamn tired. Moreover, he knows he could get someone else to do it pretty easily. Maybe he could be a martyr. He could save someone from a clicker or a soldier. He could save someone’s life for once. But would that be enough to save his soul? To make it to Heaven and see Ellie and Sarah again?

Maybe, he would, if God really does love people the way some say he does. But if Joel was God, he’d deny himself entry.

He stays in bed for the rest of the day. Aside from the two times he eats. And once in the middle of the night to take a piss because he may be depressed, but the last of his dignity is motivation enough not to wet the bed. 

He doesn’t shower or change his clothes. Not like he’s wearing a shirt anyway, just boxers ‘cause it’s too hot outside and he doesn’t want to get up and turn on the fan. Sleep doesn’t come easy, but it comes. It comes because it has to, reluctant as it is.

He wakes up to the voice of an unfamiliar woman. Quieter than Ellie or Sarah, less stern than Maria or Tess. Not like he was expecting to hear from three out of four of those women, not outside of his dreams. 

You’ve always cared about people, saving lives and all that. But you’re no good with a gun, so Tommy finds a better job than patrol for you.  

“You’re going to be watching my brother, Joel.”

“Like, spying on him?”

“No, like making sure he doesn’t kill himself.”

A suicidal man is nothing new, especially in this world, but Tommy’s bluntness about it is. He acts as if it’s a normal job. Like the ones in office buildings that sound wonderful even though the people who tell you about them assure you it was barely better than life is now. This new watchmen position is the same as patrol, in a way. Terrifying in the gravity it holds. You have to keep someone alive.

You can shoot deer, you can run quickly, you can hide well. You can survive on your own. But, at age 10, your mom bled out as you sat by her side. You were too weak to carry her, to dig a grave and bury her. Your survival feels unearned, but you’re no good with guns. You’d miss if you tried to do it. That’s a rare thought anyway, and surely not one you plan to ever speak aloud. They’d put you on watch too, which sounds suffocating, in all honesty.

You don’t know Joel. You’ve heard his name in passing, but you arrived in Jackson during the period of time he was gone. He was going to take some girl to some hospital for something or other. 

“What about that girl?” you ask. “Is she not taking care of him?”

“She’s not around anymore.”

“Oh,” you say. 

He just nods. The ‘why’ of the whole arrangement makes sense, but you’re still unclear on the ‘how’. Am I just supposed to stay in his house 24/7? Is he allowed to shower on his own? Do I have to cook or do laundry?

“Just check in on him. He’s not the most… personable, but don’t take anything he says to heart.”

Just check in on him. It sounds simpler than it will be, you know that much. Even keeping a plant alive takes more than ‘checking in on it’. 

You arrive at his house around 10 AM. You assume he’ll be awake, but when you look around his living room and kitchen, you can’t find him. Oh God, you think. What if he’s… 

He’s asleep in bed. You’re pretty sure. He’s lying there and there’s no evidence that anything’s wrong, but when you say his name from the doorway, he doesn’t move. So, you walk closer to him, just to make sure he’s breathing. 

“Joel,” you say softly – because your other option is reaching out to touch him, and you feel that’s a little too personal, especially when he’s not wearing a shirt. 

“Who the Hell are you and how did you get into my house?” he says. 

“Tommy sent me.”

“Oh, so they’re making you watch me?”

“Yeah.”

You’re glad he knows about the arrangement. Maybe he’ll give you some direction on what to do with him. 

“Must hate you if they stuck you with me.” 

You can’t tell if he’s being ironic, but you hope so. Still, you don’t know how to respond. You decide on a simple, “I’ll let you get some sleep. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

Though you’re alone in the room, you sit with perfect posture on Joel’s couch, looking around at the decor – or lack thereof – looking for clues about who this man is. 

You think about making him breakfast, but you’d have to raid his cabinets to do so, and you’re terrified to make any missteps when it comes to Joel. You don’t think he’ll kill himself over burnt toast, but there is a persistent need lodged inside your brain to make him like you. It’s a little selfish when you should be focused on just keeping him alive, but maybe if he likes you, he’ll feel better, maybe you’ll feel better too. That’s still nothing but the ever-lingering hope in your heart. But it’s something.

He comes downstairs eventually, in a t-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms. 

“Good morning,” you say. 

“No, it ain’t,” he says, heading in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Do you want me to help you with anything? Breakfast or coffee?”

“I can make my own damn coffee, kid.”

And he does. The first shred of kindness you get from him is an offer to pour you a cup. 

“I’m alright, but thank you.”

He sits down in a chair across from you and sips his coffee as you watch him awkwardly. 

“Are you really gonna do that all day?”

“Do what?”

“Sit there and stare at me.”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

“You could leave, for starters.”

“I’ll get in trouble.”

“What? You afraid Tommy’ll get upset with you?”

“A little.”

“He’s a softie. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

You are worried. Sure, you want Tommy to be happy with you, but moreover, you don’t want to leave Joel alone lest something happen to him. You might not know the guy very well, but you’d hate to see someone take their own life. 

“Can I just stay here? I promise I’ll leave you alone.”

He shrugs, and you take it as a yes.

He does not need a caregiver or a watchman. He does not need you, but you look like a kicked puppy and there’s no way he’ll force you to leave. Another young girl he’ll reluctantly let stick by his side. It’s almost cruel of Tommy to send someone like you. Someone young and full of life. Someone he has a hard time pushing away. 

He should’ve sent Joel a crotchety old bitch or a drill sergeant. Maybe Tommy thinks he’s doing Joel a favor by giving him a nice girl, polite and eager to please. It’s a good thing your chipper attitude irritates him. It’s the first item on the very small list of qualities that Joel dislikes.

At first, he insists on making his own food. You’re still a guest, even if he’s reluctant to have you as one. It doesn’t matter where he lives, he’ll always have been raised in Texas. He’ll always hear his mother calling him out on his lack of manners. His hospitality is force of habit.

Plus, if he lets you do anything for him, he’ll owe you something – at least in his mind. And he doesn’t want to owe anyone anything. He doesn’t want to give or get or build any kind of rapport with you whatsoever, especially since you seem to take all attention as progress, despite the fact that Joel is harsh with you most of the time. 

The whole ordeal makes him feel like more of a failure than he did before. He couldn’t save Ellie, or Sarah for that matter, and now he’s being forced into his own retirement or held hostage depending on how you look at it, so he can’t even get the satisfaction that productivity brings.

He also finds himself pretty fucking bored without work. He became so used to being in constant battle, even in his sleep. One wrong move and he was dead. The worst injury he’s gotten in the past few weeks was a paper cut.

Reading was never his biggest hobby, but it’s not bad when you find the right book. Often, you’ll sit across the room from him and read a book of your own, and the silence as he relaxes into the couch is quite peaceful for a change. 

No amount of peace and quiet can cure his boredom, though. It makes him antsy, and you notice. You notice a lot when your job is just staring at him, it seems.

“I found a book of crossword puzzles,” you announce. 

“Congratulations,” Joel says. 

“I thought since you were bored, I’d give them to you, and maybe you could do them…”

By the look on your face, he can guess that you’re regretting your words. Lest he make you cry, he accepts the book. 

“Plus, it looks kind of old so I don’t know if I’d know how to do it myself,” you add.

He knows you don’t mean it as an insult, but it sounds like one, and it makes him laugh. The list of qualities Joel likes about you is already long — and buried deep in his subconscious — but he’ll have to add the fact that you can make him laugh.

“Are you calling me old?”

“Not in a bad way. You’re just older than I am.”

He flips through the book and finds that about 80% of them are done. 

“Somebody did most of these already.”

“I’m sorry… maybe I could erase that person’s answers and then you could do them?”

“I think I’d still be able to tell.”

You hang your head in defeat. 

“Gimme a pencil and I’ll try the ones that aren’t done yet.”

You look through his junk drawer, find a pencil, and hand it to him. He doesn’t expect you to sit on the couch next to him. 

“I know you’re supposed to watch me, but you don’t have to watch that closely.”

You move away slightly, no longer looking over his shoulder. 

“I was just curious about the answers.”

“I was kidding around,” he says (though, it’s only a half-truth). “Come back here.”

It takes him about a week to finish the book. 

“Had to go back and fix some of the others,” he says. “The person who originally filled ‘em out was an idiot.”

“That’s not very nice. Maybe it was a kid.”

“Kid had great handwriting, then.”

You pause, hesitating for a reason he can’t pinpoint. 

“What? You want me to say sorry for calling that guy an idiot. ‘Cause I will if it matters that much to you.”

“No, no, fuck that guy, he was an idiot,” you say, clearly taking after him. 

“Language, Missy,” he says, jokingly scolding you. 

“Sorry. I should stop swearing.”

“It’s okay. You probably picked it up from me anyway.”

“Maybe,” you agree. You’re fidgeting, holding something behind your back, he notices. 

“Whatcha got there?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” you say, holding it out to him. “I just figured since you finished the crossword book, I should get you more.”

He only did the crosswords for you. He never really cared for them anyway. He just wanted to make you happy — he’d rather have you content than pissy or whiny. The only thing worse than your constant insistence on getting his approval would be if you just sat there and cried all day.

He’d tried to give the book back to you, but you couldn’t do ‘em on your own since you were lacking in 90s pop culture knowledge. So, he did them, with you watching over his shoulder the whole time. 

He’s about to admit this to you and hand the new one back over to you when he looks at the pages – white paper, stapled together, all drawn up in pen. 

“Did you make these?” he asks, in awe of both your ability to draw perfectly straight lines, and moreover, how much you must care if you’re willing to go to these lengths. Kiss-ass behavior, he tells himself.

You nod, and he gets the sudden urge to hug you, but opts for a thank you with a smile he can’t repress.

“You didn’t have to do all this, but it’s very sweet of you.”

He considers taking back the ‘very sweet’ comment when he finds that 3 down is four letters with the prompt “grumpy old man”. JOEL fits perfectly in the blank spaces. 

You go on walks, read endless books, and Joel finally lets you start taking on some of the housework. It should be nice, but you get the feeling he’s not all that happy about this situation. Not that he tells you it outright. He doesn’t tell you much at all. And you’ve tried. It’s not like you’re asking hard-hitting questions. 

“How old are you?” 

“56.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

He doesn’t even bother to ask the same question back to you. Sometimes, he doesn’t even look up at you when you speak to him. You know it’s the depression of losing someone close to you, you know what that feels like – the problem is, you don’t know how to fix it. You only know how to hide it.

It’s quite simple, in theory. All you have to do is give him the desire to get out of bed every day. But you don’t even know what he likes. All you know is that your presence is not high on his list of favorite things. You try and try until you swear his shitty attitude is rubbing off on you. 

Tommy checks in with you periodically, asking you how things are going with Joel, and this would be the perfect opportunity for you to get out of this position, which Joel would probably love, but to spite him, you tell Tommy it’s going well.

And it is, in a way – Joel is not actively mean to you. He doesn’t insult you or argue with you, he just mostly ignores you. So, you figure if you ignore him, maybe he’ll miss your attention. Stupid teenage bullshit mindset, acting like you have a crush on him, playing some sort of push and pull game that he’s not even privy to. 

But that’s not like you. That brooding behavior is all Joel, so it lasts no more than a day or so until you go back to trying, and accept the fact that he’s just an asshole. Doesn’t mean you have to be one. 

You never expected to win him over with the crossword puzzles but you see the look in his eyes when you give him the homemade ones, and you know there’s something in there besides all that pain. You know that look, can’t put a name to it, all you know is that it’s a good sign, one you had yet to see from Joel.

Joel wouldn’t have thought he’d get tired of hearing someone ask, “can I do anything for you?”, constantly begging to dote on him, to care for him. The last time someone did this for him was on Father’s Day, which is an ancient holiday now, almost mythical.

But it’s been weeks of the same old shit. It has nothing to do with you. In fact, you’re probably the best ‘caregiver’ he could’ve gotten stuck with. Thing is, though, he doesn’t want a caregiver, and he’s tired of said caregiver bombarding him. It’s enough to just have her watching him like a hawk, but yapping in his ear is another thing. Because he enjoys the quiet (and because the way you ask him questions reminds him of Ellie.)

It’s a joke, a stupid joke. It’s his patience wearing thin.

“Can I get you anything?” you ask. 

“Sure. A beer, maybe. And a fuckin’ blowjob,” he mutters. Yeah, that’d be the dream but it’s a joke, bordering on a jab at you. 

“I don’t think we have any beer,” you say. You both know damn well there’s no alcohol in the house. 

“I know.”

“And, as for the other thing- is that something that you’d want… me to do?”

“Hey,” his tone softens. “Sweetheart, it was a joke. I was messing with you.”

“Okay, so you don’t want that, correct?”

“It was a joke. I’m sorry I even said it.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say, sheepishly. “It’s your house, your rules, right?”

The concept of free speech in his house was one he’d brought up regarding ‘swear words’— It’s his house so he’s allowed to say ‘fuck’, ‘shit’, ‘bitch’, and every other word he could come up with, and he came up with some deep cuts just to make you laugh. Admittedly, it’s a nice sound.

“Yeah.” He thinks for a moment. “I just think that these sorts of topics aren’t appropriate for someone…”

“You know I’m an adult, right, Joel?”

“Yes, I know, but you’re still young and you seem a little innocent. I don’t want to put those types of thoughts in your head.”

“I know what a blowjob is, and I know what sex is. I just haven’t found the right person yet. That doesn’t mean I’ve never thought about it or whatever.”

You rarely snap at him, so he knows that word — innocent — must’ve been more offensive than he’d meant it. Maybe you’re not innocent. Maybe you’re just kind and a hell of a lot younger than him. Maybe it just seems like you should be.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just saying that I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“But do you want it?” You punctuate every word with a newfound annoyance.

“It’s not about that.”

“Yes it is.” You’re quite incredulous for someone who has been presented with the idea only a moment ago.

“Fine. Yes, in theory, if we were just two people who know each other, then, sure, if you offered, I’d say yes.”

“I offered.”

The way he calls you ‘sweetheart’ feels more like an insult than a term of endearment. You’d rather be ‘kid’ or nothing at all, anything less patronizing. It’s worse when he calls you innocent. You’re not innocent, you’re just nice — something that Joel is not. You’re painfully nice. You’ve heard it makes people like you. You’re still waiting on the results, though.

But, if he’d ordered you to suck him off, you’d have kneed him in the balls, and he would’ve thought twice about calling you ‘sweetheart’. The thing is, he doesn’t. Instead, he backs away from the opportunity, tells you it was a joke. 

But you see two things behind his eyes: one, he wants this. He might not want to want this, but he does. More importantly, you see his genuine concern for your well-being override this desire and you realize you feel safer around him than you do around most men. That’s one of the reasons that you do give him ‘a fuckin’ blowjob’. The other being that, sometimes, before you go to bed, you can’t sleep, and a certain man comes to mind as your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties. 

When you reiterate that you offered, you exchange a long stare wherein you try to reach into each other’s souls and sort this shit out but when you both realize you can’t, Joel says, “Okay.”

And you say, “Okay.”

A new kind of tension bubbles to the surface as Joel sits down on the couch and you kneel before him. 

You fiddle with his belt, eventually managing to get it undone, but Joel does the rest of the work it takes to get his pants down to his ankles, boxers too. 

You’d imagined he’d be big, but that’s how fantasies work. Every man’s dick is big in your lewd daydreams, but it’s like you manifested it with Joel. You begin to feel like you’re in over your head, and though you aren’t innocent, you aren’t experienced enough to take him. But who are you to back down from a challenge?

Joel can see hesitation wash over your face for the first time. You pause, study the scene like you’re trying to decide your approach, and then you take his cock in your hand, looking up at him like you’re asking for the green light.

He gives you the go-ahead with the only piece of advice he thinks you’ll need. “Just don’t bite, and you’ll do fine.”

He probably should’ve mentioned another thing: don’t take too much at once or you’ll choke. His head lolls back and his eyes fall closed the moment your lips meet the tip of it. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t want you to feel intimidated by his presence while you’re exploring, so to speak. He lets out a low groan of approval to let you know he’s still with you.

But he’s fading into a beautiful oblivion until he hears you gag, feels you sputter and it shocks him out of that blissful feeling. His eyes snap open and he cradles the back of your head. 

“Easy, easy,” he says. “Don’t hurt yourself.” 

You pull away briefly and catch your breath. 

“That’s good,” he says. “Breathe, baby.”

He can see you looking for instructions, so he takes your hand and helps you get a firm grip on his cock, sliding your hand up and down, and finally letting you do it on your own. 

“Doin’ good, baby,” he says. “You gotta give your mouth a break sometimes.”

You’ve never gotten anything close to praise from Joel before. It’d warm your heart like nothing else if it weren’t so goddamn sexy in this context. 

You nod, wipe the spit from your chin, and give your mouth a brief break, but you can’t hold yourself back forever. Soon, your lips are back on his cock, kissing from the base to the tip, flicking your tongue over the head, seeing what reactions you can get from him. 

When you get into the rhythm of hand and mouth in tandem, you barely register him telling you that he’s gonna come. 

You imagine it’s an acquired taste but it’s not awful. You can swallow it. So, you do, and you look up at him with a smile. 

He looks like he’s woken up from a dream and he’s still getting his bearings straight, but he’s quick to stand up and take your hand. 

“Where are we going?”

“To my bed.”

You’d follow him anywhere but bed does sound good to you right now. It sounds like an adventure. You don’t go into his bedroom unless absolutely necessary. You’d think he was hiding something horrible in there if you didn’t have a mutual feeling regarding your own bedroom.

“Are we going to have sex?” you ask. 

“No,” he says. 

“Then, what are we going to do?”

“You,” he begins. “Are going to lie back and relax.”

He coaxes you to lie down, and he doesn’t have to try hard. 

“I,” he continues. “Am going to make you feel good.”

You’re fairly certain about what he means, so there’s nothing left for you to do but let him do the work. It’s just another part of the job you’ll have to learn from experience.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says. 

You nod. 

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he says, playing with the hem of your t-shirt. 

“Wait-” you say, sitting up, and he withdraws. “Can we kiss… first?”

He looks surprised for a moment, and you worry you’ve fucked up. 

“I just feel like we should do that,” you say, much quieter.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess that makes sense.”

His hand cups your cheek and he looks you in the eyes like he’s trying to find answers somewhere in there. 

“Has anyone ever kissed you before?”

“Not really, not the way I want you to kiss me.”

“Feels a bit rude of me to have put my dick in your mouth before you’d even been kissed.”

Still, he leans in and kisses you, but it’s soft, gentle. It’s not a peck on the lips, though, it’s more. It gradually gains momentum and passion. Eventually, he slips his tongue in your mouth and you take it in stride. 

“You’re very good at this,” he says. “If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t think this was your first time.”

“Is that a compliment?” you ask, doubting Joel is capable of such things.

He ignores your question, and sighs. You know it’s not directed at you because you’re fairly sure he’s not listening.

“I know I said I was gonna do some things with you, but I don’t wanna take things too fast, okay?”

“Are you saying you’re just going to kiss me?”

“I think that’d be the right thing to do.”

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

You wish you could sound sexy, or whatever, but you probably come off like a bratty child.  

“Excuse me?”

“That’s not fair. You said you’d make me feel good. I thought you were gonna return the favor.”

“I was.”

“Then, why are you backing out?”

You’re shocked that he’s the pussy — pun-intended — in this scenario.

“I thought it might be too much for you.”

You grab his hand and slip it under the flimsy fabric of your shorts. 

His eyes go wide. 

Fucking hell, you’re wet, is the only thought on Joel’s mind. It makes sense. He’d be offended, maybe even worried if you were dry as a desert down there, but he’s barely touched you. Either you really enjoyed kissing him or you actually liked sucking him off too.

He gently presses the pads of his fingers against the wet spot on your panties.

“You’re right, baby. It’s only fair if I help you out.”

He’s able to get your shorts and your panties down in one swift pull. You look impressed by the action. Just you wait, he thinks. He’s not an expert by any means, but it’s not too hard to learn if you pay attention — and sex is one of the only times Joel does listen — it’s also not a skill you lose over time. It’s muscle memory, or maybe it’s innate.

His thumb rubs your clit lazily as he watches your face scrunch up in pleasure, your eyes fill with need. When the first finger slips inside you, he hears a breathy sigh come from above — it sounds like relief though he knows you haven’t come yet.

He’s never had a woman have such a strong reaction to his lips on her clit. It almost startles him at first. You’re frantic from the moment his lips meet your skin, crying out for him like you’re scared he’ll stop.

“Hey,” he says, “I’m right here. Don’t have to get so worked up. I’m gonna take care of you.”

He can’t say another word because his lips are occupied, so he relies on his hands, his soothing touch, to tell you that everything is alright. He gets the urge to tell you how good you are for him, how good you taste, how pretty you are like this, but he knows it’d be cruel to let up now. He’s callous often, sometimes harsh, but rarely cruel.

His instinct tells him to drag this out, to make your thighs shake, to have tears running down your cheeks, to tease you. To be the asshole that he tends to be when you’re around (and when you’re not). This is a version of Joel you might come to like.

He’s lived long enough to be well-practiced in this field of life. Doesn’t matter if he’s particularly romantic or even sociable, it’s just happened enough times over the course of fifty plus years for him to know the ins and outs. He can get you there quickly and lead you through it slowly.

He’s so used to you saying his name in a tone he considers pestering that he’s begun to hate the word itself. But when it’s drawn out and desperate like this, it sounds wonderful.

You’re at his mercy, he thinks. Which means he’s in control. And, as much as he’d hate to admit it, control does not mean he can kill you, control means he can care for you.

When you come down from your high, Joel is looking up at you from between your thighs with messy hair and kiss-dark lips. His smile looks like one of pride. Your cheeks heat up, only half-remembering what just happened. You could describe the event simply in a cause and effect relationship — he went down on you, so you came. You know what an orgasm feels like, but that was something beyond anything you’d ever experienced before. You fear an addiction may be coming on.

Your voice comes out shaky, which only makes your first words after a long silence sound stupider. “Thank you.”

He looks confused, and it takes him a moment to respond. “My pleasure,” he says, and you swear it might be when you see a semi through his sweatpants.

You’d offer more ‘help’ but you truly don’t think you can manage it. You can feel your body pulling you towards sleep. Your eyes have barely opened and they want to close again.

Joel notices because how could he not, you’re completely naked in every sense of the word.

“Get some rest,” he says before standing up.

He’s leaving.

“Where are you going?” you ask, instinctively.

“Downstairs.”

You do not want to say it. The fear of rejection is too strong, but so is the sudden urge to cry. Holding back tears is a strength of yours, though, so Joel never sees them. Somehow, after doing one of the most adult things, you feel like a baby in the wake of it. You are supposed to be taking care of him, and you are failing.

“What?” is his response to your refusal to meet his eyes.

“I just assumed you were going to stay. That’s all.”

“I can. If that’s what you need me to do.”

You don’t say anything. He climbs into bed anyway after picking up your underwear and handing it to you.

He doesn’t hold you but he doesn’t leave either. What he does do is kiss you on the forehead when he thinks you’re already asleep. It’s a compromise between your fear and your desire.

It isn’t as weird as one might think it would be — acting as if you’ve never done anything remotely sexual with one another. It’s easier because you don’t have to go back to being friends. You never really were. It was always awkward. What’s new? Only your knowledge that at least some of your feelings are mutual. Only the fact that you think about having sex with him every time he’s in front of you. It’s really just out of curiosity sometimes. What would he be like in bed? Does he want it too? How would you even broach the subject?

Sometimes, it’s not just curiosity. Those days are harder to navigate. You have to pretend like every little touch — most of them accidental — fuels the fire. It’s not the sensation itself. It’s just the acute awareness of his body, how close it is to yours, how easily you could reach out and touch him, that enters your mind.

“You’re staring.” Joel says from the other side of the couch.

“Sorry. I zoned out.”

“Got something’ on your mind?”

“Not really.”

“C’mon, what is it?”

“Why do you suddenly care about my thoughts?” About me.

“You think I didn’t care about you before? You’ve been in my house everyday for months now.”

“So?”

“And, I haven’t tried to kick you out yet.”

“You’re not allowed to kick me out. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Okay. How ‘bout this: I’m down here sitting with you because I know you don’t like to be alone.”

“So you pity me?”

“No, if I pitied you, I’d have told Tommy to give you a new job.”

“Okay, so, you expect me to believe you care but you refuse to talk to me half the time.”

“I’m not much of a talker. But, now that I’m trying to talk to you, you’re shutting me out.”

“I’m not— It’s just not a big deal. I don’t even remember what I was thinking about anyway.”

“Bullshit.”

“What?”

“I said, that’s bullshit.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll talk.”

You take a deep breath before speaking, one long enough that he gestures for you to go on.

“I was just thinking about what it would be like if we had sex.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, since we, you know, we did that stuff… it’s not like it’s a totally crazy thought.”

“‘That stuff’? Be more specific, honey.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“I do, but you can’t be thinking about having sex with me when you can’t even use big girl words when you’re talking about it.”

“It doesn’t even matter.” Your face is burning. It so, totally, does matter. “I was just curious.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Mm-hmm. Go on thinking, I’ll get back to reading.”

“Wait, what? You just made me tell you that to make me embarrassed? You’re not even gonna—”

“What? Gonna fuck you?”

The word slips out of his mouth so easily.

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Truth is: he’s been thinking about you every day since. He only caught you staring because he was doing the same. He tries to restrain himself because it feels like the right thing to do.

But he still, he acquiesces and takes you upstairs to his bedroom.

He lays you down on the bed and undresses you slowly like you’re a gift and he doesn’t want to tear the paper. He places your clothes atop the dresser, but leaves his strewn across the floor.

Wonder fills your eyes as he reveals his naked body. Hesitation and awe wrapped up in one.

“Wow,” you say, breaking the silence, “it’s, um, you know— do you think it’ll fit?”

It’s not the first time he’s heard that. It no longer brings him that bashful pride that it did when he was younger. It’s just a fact. A nuisance sometimes.

“Not if we don’t get you ready first.”

“Do you need to get ready first too?”

He looks down at his cock, rock-hard and eager.

“No, baby, just looking at you is enough to get me ready.”

A thought crosses his mind — one he thought he’d left in his teenage years — what if he comes too quickly?

He lies back on the bed next to you and reaches for you, waits for you to let him maneuver you.

“Come here,” he says.

You sit up and face him, slowly inch towards his arms that beckon you.

You’re fairly sure you know what he wants you to do. Sit on his face. But god, something about it seems awkward in the amount of control you simultaneously give up and are given in turn.

“You trust me, right?” he asks.

“Of course.”

An answer you wouldn’t have ever thought you’d give back when you first met.

“Then, come sit on my face.”

You swing your leg over him and steady yourself above his face.

He grips your thighs to guide you. You grip the headboard to save yourself from passing out the moment Joel’s mouth meets your skin.

Joel wouldn’t be the man you’d have thought would have such a talented tongue based on how little he uses it. You can’t blame him for not talking right now. Your moans echo off his bedroom walls and permeate the balmy summer air. The windows are closed and the curtains shield your naked bodies from the neighbors but even if you’d left them open, you wouldn’t have the sense to care.

You’re an incoherent mess of moans and half-words, trembling thighs and sweat. Your orgasm comes on strong, and if your eyes weren’t screwed shut, maybe you’d see the gates of heaven.

It’s been a while since he’s done this. Tess never liked it like this and the last woman before her was one from another lifetime, pre-outbreak, an inconceivable world despite having once called it home.

He’s not really thinking about that, though, in this moment, all Joel can think of is you. Your skin, your sweat, your heat, and the pretty noises you make. At one point, he swears he hears his name though your thighs are covering his ears. And he doesn’t mind it one bit.

“I’m gonna pass out,” he hears from above him.

“No, you’re not. I’ve got you,” he tries to say, though surely his words are muffled.

“Don’t let me go.”

He doesn’t. He carefully helps you lie back on the bed. When he meets your gaze, he swears he’s never seen adoration like that in anyone’s eyes before. At least, not in a long time.

It terrifies him, but in spite of his hesitation, he holds you close.

A blanket of peaceful silence settles over your bare bodies.

You speak quietly, trying not to awaken Joel’s senses. The ones that pull him away from you. The moment feels like glass in your hands.

“Are we going to have sex?”

“Hm?”

“We were going to, right? You were getting me ready for it.”

“I thought I wore you out.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’d tell you if you were.”

He hesitates.

“I’ll be good. I promise.”

Those are the words that awaken his arousal. In an instant, you find his body looming above yours. He kisses you until your lips are red and puffy. He doesn’t break your gaze as he positions his cock at your entrance. Your green light is your needy hips begging him to fuck you.

He starts slow, even the head is a stretch. You scrunch up your face and hold back the urge to squirm.

“It’s gonna be a little uncomfortable at first, baby, and that’s why we’re gonna take it slow.”

Slow is an understatement. It takes ages for him to give you another inch — or maybe you’re just antsy. This one makes you whimper, makes you clamp down around him.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be fine.”

Joel’s voice is tender and sweet, and it gives you enough hope to ask for something you think he’d usually deny you.

“Can you hold my hand?”

He interlocks his fingers with yours. It feels oddly natural. He doubts he’s heard someone ask to hold his hand since— not now, he’ll go soft if he thinks about her. He’ll close in on himself and you need him — in more ways than one.

He continues slowly as he promised he would until he hears your moans of pleasure and your pleas for more, more, more. More is a little bit faster, a little bit harder, as deep as you can take it, and most importantly, his thumb tracing circles on your clit.

You squeeze his hand with yours as your inner walls clamp down around him.

“Just let it happen. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

When you come, he does too — the most blissful mistake he’s ever made.

Curses fly out of his mouth through his orgasm, stopping briefly as he catches his breath, and resuming when he pulls out and watches as his come drips out of you.

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you insist. “I liked it.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Because I fucking loved it. “But, it’s dangerous. We’ve gotta be more careful.”

In the future — it’s implied. Another time is nothing when the lines have all been crossed and when the other side brings him a warmth the hot summer never could.

You have more power over him than the sun.

It becomes a routine — briefly — and you are more careful. You discreetly buy condoms, but when your next period doesn’t come, you fear it might be too late.

You don’t tell Joel, not at first. Sometimes, they’re irregular, and you don’t want to give the man a heart attack. But then a week passes, another week passes, and eventually you have to — especially when you’re beginning to feel a bit nauseous and have no other explanation for it. It’s better to say something before he asks.

“Joel,” you say, “I haven’t gotten my period yet.”

A look of horror crosses his face before he asks, “How late is it?”

You take a breath before admitting, “A few weeks.”

“How many?”

“Almost three.”

“Fuck.” He sighs in preemptive defeat. “Have you taken a test?”

“No, I thought it would come so I didn’t want to overreact.”

“We’re going to go get one.”

He stands up immediately and turns towards the door.

“Wait,” you say, stopping him in his tracks.

“I should probably get it. It’ll look less suspicious.”

No, it won’t. Those who suspect something is up with you, will have their suspicions, and those who don’t, won’t think to pay attention.

They recommend taking multiple because false negatives are common.

The first one is a clear positive, so clear you think it might be a false positive, so you wait to freak out until you see two lines come up on the second test.

Joel is silent, even when you hand him the test.

But, so are you, because what more is there to say? The tests say it all.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to,” he says, and you’re surprised until he clarifies.

“I doubt they’ll make you pay for the pill or the procedure — however they do it, but I’ll take care of you while you’re recovering. I’ll be there through it all. Promise.”

The pill or the procedure. The abortion that he expects you to have. Truth be told, you hadn’t really thought about what you’d do until now. It’s probably the right decision. Do you really want to bring a baby into this world? Can you even take care of one?

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll make an appointment.”

You save your tears for Maria. She approaches you in the clinic. You’d be delighted to see her at any other moment.

“Making an appointment?” she asks.

“Yeah, just a checkup,” you lie.

The woman at the counter clarifies with you. “Just a checkup? Is that what you’d prefer?”

You turn back and forth between her and Maria.

“Um, no,” you say, “keep it as is.”

Maria raises an eyebrow and there is nowhere left to hide. You might be able to outrun her, but she knows where you live and isn’t afraid to confront you at your doorstep.

She saves you some of your dignity when she whispers, “How about a chat at my place? I have some tea that helps with nausea.”

The tea is persuasive but you’d have to go anyway. You don’t speak on the walk to Maria’s. She brews the tea and you sit across from each other in the kitchen before she finally speaks.

“What’s the appointment for?” she asks. “And I’m not here to judge you, I just want the truth.”

You’re not my mom, you could say, but she’s the closest thing you’ve had to one since your own passed.

“An abortion,” you say quietly, looking down at the table, at your hands around the mug.

“Okay,” she says, gently. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You try to reply but all the comes out is a sob.

Eventually, she pries the truth out of you. You explain what happened when you told Joel the news.

“So, he made the decision, and then told you he’d be there for you if he did what you wanted?”

“I guess. But, I think it might be the right choice. I mean, it'd be hard to raise a child in this world…” You cut yourself off when you look at her bump. She’s gonna be a mom, a good mom. And, stupidly, you’re jealous.

Even though it’s not there yet, you swear you can see a high chair in your periphery. You could be holding a warm bottle instead of a hot mug of tea. Maria could be feeding her child his first bite of baby food next to you.

“Let me ask you something, and I want you to really think about it, and be honest with me.”

You nod and wait for her question.

“If Joel had said he’d support you no matter what, even if you wanted to keep the child, if he said he’d step up as a father, would you have made the appointment?”

“I don’t know.” Oh, but you do. Maria waits for you to come to a conclusion, for you to spit it out.

“I like the idea of having a kid. I love kids, and I sometimes think about what it would be like being a mom, but I know that I can’t be one. Not right now.”

If there is one thing Joel can’t be, it’s a father. Not again. He’s too old, too grouchy, too cynical. He’s not the man he used to be. He was never good at it anyway. He couldn’t save his own kid. He’s already a failed father — once, if not, twice.

You’d be a great mother, and that’s the greatest tragedy. He’s failed you already. He’s not good at the kinder things of life. He shouldn’t have indulged in you, in the love you gave him when he cannot give it back. There are a lot of things Joel can’t quite get right — being a lover, a father, a good man.

Every night since the outbreak began, he’s watched Sarah bleed out in his arms. Sometimes he sees Tess, Sam and Henry, Bill, even Tommy which feels like an augury. Ellie is there almost every night, losing consciousness. Only sometimes is she in that hospital bed, often, she’s lying in the show, with blue lips and almost no pulse. Now, you’ve begun to enter his subconscious. You’re always too far out of reach, screaming his name until he’s shot dead, and the last thing he hears is you shriek as you watch him die in front of you.

Another person is another tragedy once they have the misfortune of coming into his life. There cannot be another person, especially not a child.

You should be back by now, he thinks as he splashes water on his face for the umpteenth time, hoping it’ll wash away all the mistakes he’s made.

He can tell it’s Maria by the way her knuckles rap on his front door. He can tell she’s pissed too.

When he opens the door, he sees you in standing behind her, like you’re afraid of him.

“Unless you want to have this discussion on your doorstep, I suggest you let me — us — inside.”

He does, reluctantly.

“Joel Miller, when do you plan on becoming a man?”

“What?”

“You just told her to make an appointment, didn’t even give her a chance to think about it? You managed to run away from your problems while you’re on house arrest. Impressive.”

“I thought that was what we both wanted,” he says, looking past her, to you.

“I guess, maybe,” you shrug.

The one thing he’s grateful for is Maria’s suggestion that you talk privately.

You sit further from him than usual, you refuse to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask what you wanted. I thought I was making the right choice.”

“It’s okay. I don’t even know what I want.”

But the tears suggest otherwise.

“Do you want to keep the baby?”

“Maybe, but I can’t. It’s not a good idea.”

“That’s what I think, but Maria’s right, it’s your choice.”

“But I don’t know how to make that choice.”

“You’ve got a good heart. Follow it.”

You spend a lot of time thinking, remembering, and trying to convince yourself that there is no part of you that wants to be a mother. But, in your bedside drawer, there is a handful of photos — all from before the outbreak. You see your mom as a child on a swing set, and as a teen blowing out candles on her birthday. Her mom is in that one too, sitting next to her, smiling. You wish more than anything to have pictures of you and your mom.

You think about the little girl who pretended a ratty old stuffed bear was her baby. You can hear your mom telling you that you’re doing a good job, how you’ll be good at this one day. Your bedtime stories were never about fairy princesses, but about your family, the ones you didn’t get to meet.

“I wish I could have that,” you’d say.

“One day, you might be able to — the world is scary right now, but that doesn’t mean it’s gonna be like this forever,” she’d insist.

In retrospect, you wonder if she really believed that, if she really believed that teddy bear would one day be a baby that you’d be the one carrying, and she’d be the proud grandmother.

“I told her I wanted to be a mom like her,” you explain to Joel, and he understands.

You know about Ellie, but not about Sarah. Joel never brings either of them up to you. Until now. It’s a fair trade, he tells himself. Photos for photos, info for info. But it’s more than that.

“Hold on for one minute, I’m gonna go get something, and I’ll be right back.”

It’ll only take him a second to grab the pictures, but he’ll need a moment to compose himself.

“This is Sarah,” he says, pointing to the little girl in the photo. “My daughter.”

You’re silent for a moment, gazing at the photo, at a younger Joel you’ve never met.

You’re the first person not to tell him that you’re sorry for his loss, and he is relieved not to hear the empty sympathies once more.

“What was she like?” you ask.

It’s hard to explain, and for that reason, he talks for at least a half hour about Sarah. All her likes and dislikes, all his favorite moments from the day she was born until the day she died. He tells the story of that too.

When you try to tell him that he sounds like he was a good dad, he has to explain why he wasn’t.

“I couldn’t save her,” he says.

“I couldn’t save her either,” you say, pointing to your mother in one of the photos.

“You were just a child,” he says. “It’s not your fault.”

“And, you were just a man,” you say. “It’s not your fault.”

“A grown man.”

“Doing the best that you could.”

And you’re right. He did try his best. He stops arguing not because he’ll ever concede but because the weight of the present falls upon him all at once as he meets your eyes and remembers why you’re here.

He can’t have Sarah back, he can’t have Ellie back, but you’re right in front of him — and he loves you. It’s too late to turn back and kick you out on your first day, it’s too late to never speak to you, it’s too late to not love you.

It’s not too late to fail you like he’s failed everyone else. It’s not too late to do the opposite either.

You tell him your decision, and wait for his disagreement, for him to dissuade you. But, he doesn’t.

“Okay,” he says.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try my best.”

You cancel the appointment and make the final decision, but it doesn’t feel real until Joel finishes building the crib in the spare bedroom. The most unexpected part is how excited you feel even when you’re nauseous, even when your feet are bloated, even when your back is killing you.

You’re also terrified, particularly when you hear Maria’s account of her labor and delivery. For someone describing how painful it was, she seems oddly unfazed, happy even. She’s too focused on her baby boy, and you get it — he is pretty cute.

When the day comes, you find that you’ve underestimated the pain entirely. The wounds you’ve gotten in combat are nothing compared to this. Every hour that goes by feels like a full day for you. Every time the doctor checks your dilation it’s still not yet time.

Until it is. And everything becomes a million times more chaotic. You swear the only thing keeping you sane is Joel’s hand in yours. (You have to apologize later for squeezing it so tightly.)

Finally, the telltale cry comes, and it feels like you’ve run a marathon by how exhausted you are and by how proud you are of yourself for doing it. This will go down as the greatest feat of your life and you are more than satisfied with that fact.

The doctor announces that it’s a boy and though he said he’d be fine with either gender, Joel’s smile is wider than you’ve ever seen it. You’re smiling almost as big. It hurts your cheek muscles but you can’t stop, especially when they hand you your baby boy. Though he doesn’t know how to speak, his hand wrapped around your finger tells you that it’s going to be okay.

There is so much pain in this world, but not in this room.

[jevilowo]

MY OPINIONS ON VARIOUS TF2 SHIPS

For funsies

SCIENCE PARTY:

fun ship, but they're GodComplex4GodComplex and I fear that would only end in disaster

TOASTED SANDVICH:

if there is one heavypyro fan on this stupid baka planet it is me. shout out to menacing quiet individuals who like violence but have a soft side fr.

BLOODY SUIT:

literally The Original toxic yaoi rivals to lovers red blue combo ship. speeding bullet and napoleon complex fans WISH they had our shared update and corresponding voice lines

BATTING HELMET: (scout n solly)

i just think it's really funny trust me on this one guys. have you seen them in the fourth comic it's a constant "yes, and" bit between the two of them. soldier's love language is choking people out.

HIT AND A MISS: (scout n pauling)

like most ms pauling ships, i'm only into it if scout's a cool lesbian. which he is not most of the time.

RED OKTOBERFEST:

AAAAAAAAAAAAA literally the ship of all time save me heavymedic save me. if they don't smooch in the next comic i will become jay pinkerton's personal sleep paralysis demon.

SPEEDING BULLET:

my feelings on it are Complicated. twas my first love (otp) in this fandom, but the overabundance of twinky uwu scout and daddy dom snoipah has built up some resentment on my part. call me back when people stop making up imaginary life problems for sniper to comfort scout over.

NAPOLEON COMPLEX: (Spy n Engie)

literally just rarjack if they were boys and not horses to me and i'm not even an mlp fan. it's alright, just doesn't really stick out to me.

SPYMA:

LITERALLY THE POWERCOUPLE EVER TRULY A LOVE STORY FOR THE AGES or at least the version that exists in my head is. i have so much made up spyma lore it's crazyyy. bonus points if they're polying up they cule with sniper it's quickly becoming my favourite genre of fanart (i have seen at maximum three)

SUPPORT SANDWICH: (spy n sniper n medic)

in my opinion, it is healthy for everyone to have at least one ship they just like bc they think it's hot. for me, that is support sandwich. not much else to say on that the fics are all banging go look them up.

SNIDOS: (sniper n GLaDOS)

hell yeah.

ADMINPAULING:

i used to like it a lot, but timelining implies ms pauling's been working for helen since her mid teens at the latest so i no longer like it. 4chan leaks my beloathed pleaseee don't make them kiss i think it would kill me in a bad way

URINE SAMPLE: (medic n sniper)

there's a lot of werewolf and vampire stuff for these two on ao3 which is pretty fun. and i'm way more likely to find sniper angst under the medicsniper tag than sb and bs which is always a plus.

FRENCH TOAST: (spyro)

have you seen that one animation where pyro gives birth to spy's child and gordon freeman is there at one point. yeahhhh. the ship's pretty cute tho spy would be sooo soft for pyro they'd light his cigarettes for him.

BOOTS AND BOMBS:

THE FORBIDDEN RED/BLU ROMANCE GOES CRAZY I ADORE IT. same team bnb is pretty banging too. bonus points if they're polying up they cule with zhanna.

SPYPAULING:

HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE. imagine. spy x pauling. yuri. that will be all.

SWORDVAN:

SWORDVAN MY LOVE!!! idk what it is about demo and sniper together but HELL YEAH TOP 5 SHIPS FR FR. shout out to the guy still writing monsterous intent, they're like single handedly carrying the swordvandom.

TEXAS TOAST:

I used to think "this is cute" but then my friend got really really into it and that hyped me up into "THIS IS ONE OF THE BEST SHIPS OF ALL TIME" territory. bonus points if they're yuri! shout out to Technicolor California, my current favourite fanfic of all time (it overtook running blind in the interal rankings). oh yeah insert mandatory "no hate to engie and pyro father son dynamic preferers" message here lol.

Ok that's enough I will cover more at some point maybe.

[syluses]

there was another wave of caleb drama on the bird app the other day about him not wanting to be ur gege at all which was lowkey super dumb bc its not true but now its making me think of an au where mc and caleb don't grow up together and meet as adults but caleb's still delusional and crazy enough to want to have that type of dynamic... like just irrationally mad that he isn't the one who raised u LMAO i always saw him as the type to just want to be your everything not Just a brother not Just a lover... it tickles my brain.. love and obsession so all-encompassing that he has to be everything in ur life

..Oh brother 😒 no pun intended. I agree with u tho nonnie 💯 Bro needs to be her everything, & if he isnt he feels worthless.

Prepare thyselfs

Alright, yall already know by know that im a big gege truther- however im perfectly fine with the people who wanna see caleb as the ‘childhood friend’- which the anglicized version essentially goes off on. Now i do believe those individuals dont see all of caleb’s unique little nuances- just because so much of them stem from the brotherly role he was ‘forced’ to fill for mc all throughout childhood- and i think they fail to recognize the paramount correlation it has to their ‘forbidden’ romance (which both he & mc ACKNOWLEDGE in the story; but ig they’re just whiting out the bits they dont wanna hear) but im not gonna flame ppl if they wanna see bro as the friends to lovers trope.

i dont agree with it, but its more or less okay with me bc i understand lots of ppl are icked out by the pseudo trope (reasonable) yet still want to appreciate xia yizhou in their own way— even if ignoring the original intention inevitably brings a certain distance to that for the lack of comprehension over his, well, ahem GEGEISM™️

The way some of them wanna DENY the asian/original canon tho is pretty insane ngl. Like homie u can still enjoy ur own (english localized) idea of caleb- but to try to erase the obvious gege/meimei implications of the chinese version is funny only because its just that stupid. Again im definitely not one of the ppl who’ll yell and shame others for not fucking with the gege vibes, but cmon… its pretty obvious that is in the canon.

And now im yapping at this point but as to whether or not caleb WANTS to be mc’s brother figure? ..Honestly i feel like that is complicated in itself, and i think the answer will vary from person to person. But for me i think its both a yes and a no. He definitely acts as her brother, thinks as her brother, regards himself as her brother. And the self awareness is absolutely there for him- as in he knows its wrong to romantically pine for mc because he truly does- in his own way- naturally see mc as his meimei as well, even if he tries to separate himself from it the more his yearning grows. I think calebs emotions revolving this are super complex. I can barely even put it into words.

He wants the full right, if u will, that the gege title grants him over her— the closeness, the responsibility, the bond— but it ultimately gets in the way when he stares at her in admiration for a little too long or leans a little too much into the fantasy of pretend girlfriend and boyfriend. Growing up, whenever he humored her and they played house, he never had to feign the part of ‘husband’ bc he already carried all that love with him. In a way, a lil piece of him kind of blames mc for ‘asserting’ the gege role on him, but he’s still just as guilty bc he happily gave in to it all throughout their growing up. He liked it, even, in those moments he could almost forget his own pathetic desires.

I truly do believe that caleb feels regretful over the brotherly role he operated under for just about all his life… But i also truly believe that he would have it no other way— the smallest idea of anybody else assuming that spot in her life makes him furious. Because again, he wants to take care of her, he wants to protect her, to bandage her scraped knees and hush away her tears, to cook breakfast lunch and dinner for her and have almost as much of a say in her life as gran does. (…past tense.) He wants the proximity, the domestic life with her, the casual closeness and again, the slight dominion the ‘brother’ role gives him over her.

Lets not forget that in all of this, for all his cheerful, reassuring smiles and easy quipping comments, that there’s a little worm in the back of caleb’s head that wants ultimate control over his meimei. and yes, even just in calling her his ‘meimei’— or her running face first into his strong arms bc she knows, as family, he’ll always have her back— some of that control is given. Its so hard to articulate this pls kill me. But i hope u know what i mean.

At the end of the day, for all his reservations about it- and the actual blame he lowkey tries to put on mc for it- Caleb does and always wanted to be her gege.

Because if he was never her gege, he’d be nothing. His responsibility over his meimei— his sister, his friend, his closest confidant and hopefully, one day, his wife— is frankly all that gives him purpose.

And yeah maybe he is a little crazy because of it... But he knows she loves him too, deep down. He knows her better than anybody else, after all. The same can be said about his love for her: nobody in this world could ever hold even a fraction of all that Caleb both internally & physically shoulders for her.

It’s as much of an ugly curse as it is a beautiful gift.

Duality my friends, duality

[afsosville]

I wonder how things would change if Shen Jiu had the ability to project his memories and emotions like The Giver, or Blue Diamond from Steven Universe by some artifact fuckery or if he was born with the power. Maybe a better way to describe it is Wei Wuxian's empathy.

If it's a one-time artifact mishap during a mission or smt, he's got everyone kneeling over, unable to move an inch because of how much physical pain they're in. And don't forget all the emotional pain they're hopelessly dealing with, too (the memories don't have to be included, just the emotional wreckage and physical pain is enough).

All the while, they expect their Shen Shixiong to roll over and scream in agony, coz obviously smn as spoiled as him who's never had any bit of hardship in his life would feel it the worst. Then, they're seeing him going on with the mission and fighting like he's not affected at all, and then it hits them-

Oh.

They're his emotions.

If it's an inate ability, then I imagine he's using it to make his life easier, even if it's just a bit.

Like just give QJL the pain of his beatings or whatnot. Every whip gets inflicted on to QJL until the whippings stop completely. This will probably make QJL make SJ suffer even more, but that also stops when he realizes SJ has the power to make QJL go thru the same shit and will do it with absolute glee. Maybe SJ manages to free himself earlier bc of this. But there's a possibility he'll still stay to wait for YQ. If he does, then he's constantly engaging in psychological warfare with QJL and winning. That would be interesting to write abt ejrgkdkf.

This ability will ofc makes things easier if QHT stays insistent that her family treated him well.

Or like when he's being confronted for the the first time for his brothel visits, he's making LQG feel what it's like to not feel safe in the place you're supposed to sleep. And he keeps doing this every night until LQG is almost never sleeping and the mountain anymore and understands.

During peak lord meetings, he's subtly giving everyone a bit of his paranoia/anxiety, so now he's got everyone agreeing with him, and are listening to him.

He's also torturing slavers and rich nobles with his memories as well bc of a sense of righteous retribution, or just for the fun of it.

This could make Shen Jiu development a Them vs. Me complex, he's already a pro at it as it is except he's differentiating himself from those rich nobles and the like and wants nothing to do with them. Ideally this will make him conscience of the way he's treating his disciples, bc he'd be manually giving his memories/trauma to his disciples, he's just doing it without the ability lol.

He hated being grouped with ppl who were like him in the book, so now I'm making him have that energy for nobles who push around their weight instead. And would despise ever acting that way.

For angst points>>

He's tries to soothe his disciples with the slightest scraps of the good memories he does have bc he has no idea what else to do, but doesn't work and he acidentally gives bad memories instead :/

[goomyloid]

why is it that you like noelle so much? i'm a noelle fan myself but i can't figure out why i like her so much. like if someone asked me to explain what makes noelle a complex or well-written character i would not be able to explain it to them. and i'm hoping hearing someone else's thoughts on her might give me some perspective to figure out why i gravitate towards her

Hello.

um i could make a whole video essay complete with background visuals on why i like noelle so much. but i dont have that kinda time so ill give the condensed version

she simultaneously fulfills several of my favorite tropes for [female] characters. she's the nice normal girl that probably has something deeply wrong with her on the inside, but she's become incredibly good at pretending everything's okay. she's also the childhood friend, someone who knows the protagonist on an intimate level that no one can quite replicate. she Also can very much fulfill another trope i like, which is Girl who looks like she's about to freak out and kill herself any second now. i cant wait to watch her become 100x more unstable in the coming chapters

all of those are just tropes/traits that i tend to like the most, so her personality/character alone is enough to make me like her

there's various details that make her really interesting in terms of the game itself. stuff like her being ever so slightly tied to gaster and the Weird disappearance of her sister, how her affinity for game glitches might mean something for the story, her entire extra pages of characterization from the spamton sweepstakes and what THOSE entries might mean for the story... i still think she will only be a character of secondary-importance in the main route but man i do think shes important to the story as a whole in ways that other characters arent.

shes lowkey kinda me. lol. i think a lot of people see themselves in noelle for various reasons. the general kind of Nice Normal i-need-to-get-along-with-everyone passiveness, on top of being the type of girl to present normally and then have a secret "weird side." that bit especially resonated a lot with me and surely with many other highly-masking autistic people i think -- feeling the need to 'convince' everyone you're normal, and then only being able to properly relax around people who really 'know' you. also, her whole thing about being scared by scary video games and movies and stuff only to immerse herself in them enough to eventually be comforted by them is like. So weirdly specific and also literally exactly how i was as a kid which is really funny. its stuff like that that makes her feel Real and relatable

the weird route. ill be so real i dont think id be half as interested in deltarune as a whole as i am now if it werent for the weird route LMAOOOOO. which i think is fair honestly. ofc im horribly interested to see where the main story goes, and i will definitely be invested in it. but the weird route carved a weird route shaped hole into my weird route shaped brain. its too peak. the alternate take on empowering noelle is so interesting, and dont even get me started on the strain it puts on kris's and noelle's relationship, their unique relationship they dont have with anyone else. i just think its exceptionally interesting how we've gotten to see noelle from so many different angles so far, and she's only been important for one chapter.

her design lowkey rocks? like call her little white dress boring or whatever but man does it open the door for so many cute and wonderful design interpretations. and also her palette shift into cooler colors but in Opposite Directions (brown fur becomes more reddish + yellow hair becomes more greenish) looks freaking awesome. i think ive seen an incredibly wide range of noelle designs more than literally any other character in the game

i dont want to spend too wildly long on this bc ive already taken multiple days to type this out so ill stop here lol. if i think of anything else i just HAVE to include ill reblog with it or something, but these are really the main points that come to mind first

[penvisions]

dev writes even more now {javi p drabble}

working title: morning routine

pairing: javier peña x neighbor! reader

summary: some routines are set in stone, and unfortunately your neighbor's is at complete contradiction to yours

word count: 1k<

a/n: sharing this bc i want to, taking back my voice in little ways while i work through everything from the past couple of days. thank you all for the support and reporting that hateful account. all spanish is informal mexican dialect / slang terminology

-> navigation

The sound of running water splashing onto tiles pulls you out of your unconscious state harshly.

Groaning you turn over in your bed to look at the alarm clock that sits on your bedside table.

6:05am.

The metal on metal sound of someone pulling back a shower curtain rings through the air once and then twice. The pitch of the running water shifts as a body slides underneath the spray, but it’s still loud enough to be heard through the thin walls of the apartment complex.

Debating on if today is the day that your patience snaps, you shove yourself free of the tangle of sheets atop your bed and make your way into the kitchen. Morning light filters in through the sliding glass door that leads to your small balcony, the sun already above the horizon and bringing an even more intense heat to the day.

Your coffee maker does little to smother the sounds of your neighbor as he gets ready for the day, his steps purposeful and heavy as he does whatever it is that he needs to in the morning before work. Just as you hear the jangle of keys, your body tenses as you wait for the slamming of his front door.

When it echoes down the hall, you swear you can feel it reverberate through your entire body as your breath catches in your throat. It’s let out in a growl as you spin on your heel from where you’re leaning your arms atop the counter, head resting on them to watch the drip of sweet caffeine fill the glass carafe.  

Hastily unlocking the door to your apartment, you swing it open with so much force that it bounces off the wall, effectively gaining the attention of the man busy locking his own door.

“Do you have to take a shower every morning?” Your voice bites, annoyance and condemnation thick in your tone, eclipsing the normally polite and fleeting interactions you’ve had with the man so far.  

“Perdón?” He turns with a purse to his full lips and a furrow to his brow, damp strands of hair hanging over his forehead. His accent is perfect, wrapped in a silky deep voice that you can sometimes hear bleed through the walls as he talks on the phone. The roll of his ‘r’ sweeps over your body but you hold tight to the anger and exhaustion that fills you up.

“You shower every morning, around the same time and then your door slams as you leave for work. It wakes me up every damn day.” Crossing your arms, you stand barefoot and in only your sleep clothes, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry for having such good hygiene, princessa.” His lips quirk up and your eyes linger, before meeting his dark eyes. They glint with mirth and something else as he regards you completely, files secure in one hand while the other curls around his waist.

“It’s loud, Javier. Your bathroom is almost lined up with my bedroom. Besides, you just go outside and sweat in this heat, why not wait until you get home? When I’m actually awake and it doesn’t affect my sleeping schedule.” It’s not like you to make demands, to approach someone this way but god damn it, you’re so tired and just want to be able to enjoy your mornings.

“Since you seem awfully concerned about my habits, it’s not about getting clean before I start my day.” Javier boldly extends two fingers from where his hand rests on his hip and taps them closer to the zipper of his sinfully tight jeans. Your eyes don’t catch the movement, too focused on the image he makes in the drab hallway. He does it again and your eyes fly down to the movement.

What are you talking ab- oh!” You feel embarrassment rise up, making your face hot at the way his eyes smolder and one thick eyebrow raises. Suddenly, you feel foolish for the ambush, not expecting him to be so honest it borders on depravity. The image of him naked and fisting himself pops into your head and you uncross one of your arms to steady yourself on the door jamb. You can practically feel the curl of steam around your own body as your eyes flit back up to his.

He's smirking, like an absolute ass. Then he leans forward almost conspiratorially, the scent of his clean skin wafting over you in a wave of spice and sandalwood.

“Human nature and all that, you know what they say about morning wood-“

“Cállate, Javier, dios mio!” Stepping away from him, you retreat to just inside your apartment. (Shut up, Javier, my god!)

“I don’t come running to you when I hear that vibrator of yours before bed.”

The only response you muster up is a squeak before you’re slamming the door in his face. But it does nothing to muffle the sound of a hearty chuckle and the swaggering steps he takes down the hallway.

A door opens before he can turn the corner and you peer through the peephole to see who it is. Your neighbor from across the hall. An elderly woman who seems to always be waiting for the opportunity to catch someone disturbing the peace.

“Basta, Javier! No una vez, sino dos?” (Stop it, Javier! Not once, but twice?)

“Dale, dale, señora. Lo siento.” (Okay, okay, ma’am. I’m sorry.)

He’s gone with a dashing smile and a slight bow of his head.

But it’s too late, you’re more than wide awake and plagued by the realization that he can hear the low thrumming you thought you did a decent job of hiding beneath sheets and with the volume of your television.

to be continued...

[teddybeartoji]

mickey i need ur thoughts on jjk men (esp satoru) helping out and showing love for their partner with autism

like uuuuuuuu i was thinking abt toru keeping a pair of his sunglasses with him hust in case youre visually overwhelmed. ORRRR him teleporting you to a quieter space when he notices that theres too many complex sounds that are upsetting you.

ughhhhh like imagine one of them remembering that pressure is soothing for you and js puts their full body weight whenever you come back home from a bad day.

GUHHHH them keeping candles of your favorite scents and alwaya makes sure to keep your safe foods stocked up whenever you visit

OH NOW I'M REALLY KISSING YOU GRAY MY BELOVED!!! THIS IS SUCH A WONDERFUL LITTLE ASK WAHHH I GOT SO GIDDY

i agree with everything you said!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! now i know that every single one of them would do anything and everything to help you out!! but i did pick some things out that really made me think of them!!! anyway hello my fellow autistic ppl this one is for you all i love you very very much<333

satoru 100% carries extra sunglasses with him and i think he'd actually carry his black blindfold aswell. obvs he's not gonna make you wear it as you're moving through public but he'd lead you to a quiet spot and then just let you have a moment. he's either sitting you down next to him or he's holding you against his chest, protecting you from every single ray of light that could possibly make it any worse for you. bc honestly... sunglasses are sometimes just not enough for me personally. i've had my fair share of times where i just have to cover my eyes with my hands bc it just hurts so much.

we all know that satoru is a big yapper but i know he needs his quiet time too. i think he would love to just Do Nothing with you in complete silence. maybe you're both just taking a nap together, maybe you're just laying in the sun out in the park. maybe you're resting your head on his lap, maybe he's resting his on yours. it's all just about gentle touches and looks.

he loves it when you ramble and he's literally your biggest hypeman!! he's ready to spend all of his fucking money on you and any fucking equipment you could ever need. you want a new game or a new console? they're both already waiting for you at home. you want to start drawing? he has already ordered a tablet for you to practise on. you want to get into photography? he's buying you a camera and three different lenses. he wants you to be happy and he wants you to be able to do everything you could ever possibly want. he's just the sweetest guy ever i am crying rn actually:((

he's the best little autism bf btw. bc he gets it. he understand. he knows. he knows all about the light sensitivity. he knows all about the difficulty of eating "normal" foods, always munching on candy and snacks bc that's just easier. he knows about the fidgeting, he knows about the innate need to have somebody lay on top of you. he knows about the rambling and the hyperfixations. he knows about the confusing social clues and the ridiculous differences of speaking tones. he knows about the eye-contact problems - whether you're someone, who struggles to keep it or you're someone, who can't tear your eyes from everybody else just like him - he understands! he knows about being straighforward and speaking exactly what's on your mind and then being scolded for it. he knows about Not Really Understanding personal space. he truly does understand and he's ready to do anything and everything to help you cope with Life.

toji is theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee best weighted blanket and i stand by that. he's so fucking huge and he's so fucking heavy - he's perfect. he's gonna tease you about it but just a little!! you tug him by his hand and he gladly takes his place on top of you bc let's be honest... he's gonna love it, too. he's protecting you! he's taking care of you in a way that doesn't need words! he's trying his best! and if this is what you need - he is going to do it!!!

also with the light and sound sensitivity - he'd gladly pull you into his chest and cover your eyes with his big ass palm. and it would feel soo comforting wtf. the weight of it and just the fact that it's him?? fuck, i know it'd be so good. or your ears. he's placing them on your ears, muffling the overwhelming sounds while cradling you and wahh:(( he'd make you feel so safe.

suguru and shoko and parallel play. it's amazing. they will read a book while you're gaming. or suguru's painting while you're reading. or shoko's having her morning smoke and coffee while you're doing your skincare (i'm sorry i just can't get out the beautiful picture of her sitting on the little windowsill of your bathroom, a cig inbetween her fingers and a cup of coffe in her hand. no words are being spoken - it's just the sound of the birds outside, the water running and her gulping down her little espresso. thank you for listening.)

or suguru's doing his little home workout routine as you're crocheting. or it's you and shoko just laying on your shared bed scrolling on your phones in silence. could literally be whatever. they're gonna glance at you every once in a while, they're gonna ask how you're doing, how you're feeling and then they're gonna give you a tender smile and a kiss on your cheek and continue on. i'm melting just thinking about it.

suguru is obviously also going to be there for you if you have sleeping problems. he understands them all too well and he's pulling out all the stops to help you fall asleep (and himself). he's gonna make the tea one night and you'll make it the next night. it's equal. maybe you're also going to take a lovely little bath together, you'll giggle exhaustedly as you both slur out very stupid jokes and after that you'll both climb under the covers and take turns in listening to each others heartbeats and (hopefully) fall asleep.

shoko and sarcasm. she definitely makes a lot of sarcastic jokes and comments and she'll be a bit confused at first when you just blurt out the good-old "i don't know whether you're joking or not". but i think she'd find it super cute. she'll still occasionally make the comments but she'll make sure to check in whether you got it or not. i think she would tease but she'd do it very lightly (she definitely cackles when satoru doesn't understand sarcasm though lmao but you're her baby and she doesn't want you to feel bad). and i think she would love if you made terrible sarcastic jokes. like she would laugh until there are tears prickling in her eyes and you'd still be like ????? i don't understand and then she'd laugh even more. she's so cute.

kento is always ready to cook for you. he understands how hard it can be, how overwhelming it can be. he doesn't mind it a bit. i truly think this would be good for the both of you! he loves to cook and it's such a relaxing thing for him, and it's even better now that he knows he can see you fill your cheeks with delight. he needs you to eat well and he will make sure you do!

i also think that he's so patient with you and he'd never ever make you feel like you have to speak with him. he buys little plushies that you can turn inside-out, a pink side and a blue side - indicating how you're doing on the Speaking department that day. and these tiny interactive pins and you can express whatever you're feeling without ever speaking a word. he never pressures you in any way, always just reward you with more reassurance and a kiss to your temple.

he's ALSO the best listener. like he never talks over you. never. not even on an accident???? it's a superpower i think. he let's you talk at your own pace and he just stares at you with very soft eyes:((

wait i also think that shoko, utahime and yuki would gladly speak for you. in a sense of if you have social anxiety or you stutter or anything like that, they'd easily take up the task of ordering for you! they literally have all of your orders remembered and everything.

[tagamantra]

realities, maximalism,and the need for big book™️

some gubat banwa design thoughts vomit: since the beginning of its development i've kind of been enraptured with trying to really go for "fiction-first" storytelling because PbtA games really are peak roleplaying for me, but as i wrote and realized that a lot of "fiction first" doesn't work without a proper sort of fictional foundation that everyone agrees on. this is good: this is why there are grounding principles, genre pillars, and other such things in many PbtA games--to guide that.

broken worlds is one of my favs bc of sheer vibes

Gubat Banwa didn't have much in that sense: sure, I use wuxia and xianxia as kind of guideposts, but they're not foundational, they're not pillars of the kind of fiction Gubat Banwa wants to raise up. there wasn't a lot in the sense of genre emulation or in the sense of grounding principles because so much of Gubat Banwa is built on stuff most TTRPG players haven't heard about. hell, it's stuff squirreled away in still being researched academic and anthropological circles, and thanks to the violence of colonialism, even fellow filipinos and seasians don't know about them

this is what brought me back to my ancient hyperfixations, the worlds of Exalted, Glorantha, Artesia, Fading Suns... all of them have these huge tomes of books that existed to put down this vast sprawling fantasy world, right? on top of that are the D&D campaign settings, the Dark Suns and the Eberrons. they were preoccupied in putting down setting, giving ways for people to interact with the world, and making the world alive as much as possible.

one of my main problems with gubat banwa was trying to convey this world that i've seen, glimpsed, dreamed of. this martial fantasy world of rajas and lakans, sailendras and tuns, satariyas and senapatis and panglimas and laksamanas and pandai... its a world that didn't really exist yet, and most references are steeped in either nationalism or lack of resources (slowly changing, now)

i didn't want to fall back into the whole gazeteer tourist kind of shit when it came to writing GB, but it necessitated that the primary guidelines of Gubat Banwa were set down. my approach to it was trying to instill every aspect of the text, from the systems to the fluff text to the way i wrote to the way things were phrased, with the essence of this world i'm trying to put forward. while i wrote GB mainly for me and fellow SEAsian people, economically my main market were those in the first world countries that could afford to buy the book. grokking the book was always going to be severely difficult for someone that didn't have similar cultures, or are uninterested in the complexities of human culture. thus why GB had to be a big book.

in contemporary indie ttrpg spaces (where I mostly float in, though i must admit i pay more attention to SEAsia spaces than the usual US spaces) the common opinion is that big books like Exalted 3e are old hat, or are somewhat inferior to games that can cram their text into short books. i used to be part of that camp--in capitalism, i never have enough time, after all. however, the books that do go big, that have no choice to go big, like Lancer RPG, Runequest, Mage, Exalted are usually the ones that have something really big it needs to tell you, and they might be able to perform the same amount of text-efficient bursting at the seams flavor writing but its still not enough.

thats what happened to GB, which I wanted to be, essentially, a PbtA+4e kind of experience, mechanically speaking. i very soon abandoned those titles when i delved deeper into research, incorporated actual 15th century divination tools in the mechanics, injected everything with Martial Arts flavor as we found our niche

all of this preamble to say that no matter how light i wanted to go with the game, i couldnt go too light or else people won't get it, or i might end up writing 1000 page long tome books explaining every detail of the setting so people get it right. this is why i went heavy on the vibes: its a ttrpg after all. its never gonna be finished.

i couldnt go too light because Gubat Banwa inherently exists on a different reality. think: to many 3 meals a day is the norm and the reality. you have to eat 3 meals a day to function properly. but this might just be a cultural norm of the majority culture, eventually co opted by capitalism to make it so that it can keep selling you things that are "breakfast food" or "dinner food" and whatnot. so its reality to some, while its not reality to others. of course, a lot of this reality-talk pertains mostly to social--there is often a singular shared physical reality we can usually experience*

Gubat Banwa has a different fabric of reality. it inherently has a different flow of things. water doesn't go down because of gravity, but because of the gods that make it move, for example. bad things happen to you because you weren't pious or you didn't do your rituals enough and now your whole community has to suffer. atoms aren't a thing in gb, thermodynamics isn't a real thing. the Laws of Gubat Banwa aren't these physical empirical things but these karmic consequent things

much of the fiction-first movement has a sort of "follow your common sense" mood to it. common sense (something also debatable among philosophers but i dont want to get into that) is mostly however tied to our physical and social realities. but GB is a fantasy world that inherently doesn't center those realities, it centers realities found in myth epics and folk tales and the margins of colonized "civilization", where lightnings can be summoned by oils and you will always get lost in the woods because you don't belong there.

so Gubat Banwa does almost triple duty: it must establish the world, it must establish the intended fiction that arises from that world, and then it must grant ways to enforce that fiction to retain immersion--these three are important to GB's game design because I believe that that game--if it is to not be a settler tourist bonanza--must force the player to contend with it and play with it within its own terms and its own rules. for SEAsians, there's not a lot of friction: we lived these terms and rules forever. don't whistle at night on a thursday, don't eat meat on Good Friday, clap your hands thrice after lighting an incense stick, don't make loud noise in the forests. we're born into that [social] reality

this is why fantasy is so important to me, it allows us to imagine a different reality. the reality (most of us) know right now (i say most of us because the reality in the provinces, the mountains, they're kinda different) is inherently informed by capitalist structures. many people that are angry at capitalist structures cannot fathom a world outside capitalist structures, there are even some leftists and communists that approach leftism and revolution through capitalism, which is inherently destructive (its what leads to reactionaries and liberalism after all). fantasy requires that you imagine something outside of right now. in essence read Ursula K Le Guin

i tweeted out recently that you could pretty easily play 15-16th century Luzon or Visayas with an OSR mechanic setting and William Henry Scott's BARANGAY: SIXTEENTH CENTURY PHILIPPINE CULTURE AND SOCIETY, and I think that's purely because barebones OSR mechanics stuff fits well with the raiding and adventuring that many did in 15-16th century Luzon/Visayas, but a lot of the mechanics wont be comign from OSR, but from Barangay, where you learn about the complicated marriage customs, the debt mechanics, the social classes and stratum...

so thats why GB needs to be a (relatively) big book, and why I can contend that some books need to be big as well--even if their mechanics are relatively easy and dont need more than that, the book, the game, might be trying to relay something even more, might be trying to convey something even more than that. artesia, for example, has its advancements inherently tied to its Tarot Cards, enforcing that the Arcana guides your destiny. runquest has its runes magic, mythras (which is kinda generic) has pretty specific kinds of magic systems that immediately inform the setting. this is why everything is informed by something (this is a common Buddhist principle, dependent arising). even the most generic D&D OSR game will have the trappings of the culture and norms of the one that wrote and worked on it. its written from their reality which might not necessarily be the one others experience. that's what lived experience is, after all

*live in the provinces for a while and you'll doubt this too!

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

hooo boy, i watched miraculous when five or six episodes of first season aired (i was aware of it when it was only two)! it was really cool to see magical girl superhero in Paris, who has a (semi-related) crush to his classmate, who's also a superhero and partner to her superhero persona - who said crush HAS A CRUSH ON SUPERHERO SELF! i remember when theories flew on identity of Hawkmoth and who could possibly be (wiki was also ambiguous on that, based on the factor of the same va, which - i mean, one va can do multiple voices, that was earlier practise for budgeting reasons)! it was nice to see heroes thru everyday lives (well, how much normal is up to debate), everyday strugles, akuma of the episodes, ways how the main heroine solves it, and (some debatable) lessons of the day - girl magical show, y'all! (even tho it was called Tales of Miraculous Ladybug and Chat Noir)

and then the lore at the end got complicated at the end of seasons! and we got a little more of lore building, and different vibes and dynamics according to that! we got more lore on some episodes, but still not rocking the main status quo story of the season!

and then S4 and S5 happened.

to me, the problem was there undefined, until, in your previous posts, you put the name on it: the writers are incapable of juggling and merging stand-alone episodes and overarching story. they started with stand-alones, but saw that the continuous plot had more success with older audiences (c'mon, scrambled episodes were partialy their tactic, whether the actual s1 scrambling was their intention or truly an accident of tv broadcasts).

and since most of the audience are online, they think that providing additional and vague explanations and lore can - let's be frank, cover their asses. (which, hello, one show with overarching plot did almost the same with their actual lore, and only the hardcores picked up on it - bad idea if you want to make deeper sense to the story)

they tried marrying the storytelling formulas (stand-alones and overarched) in S2 and S3, but it wasn't noticeable, remarkable, and didn't raise the fandom's ire too much - still not rocking the actual important boat, which is offline view on the actual show (kids stand-alone, just turn your brain off and enjoy!) (which, in fairness, Thomas worked on Totally Spies, and that show had some success). it was egregious when it became obvious and contradicting (bc tying all the episodes's lore details is REALLY the true detective work), WHILE STILL WORKING WITH STAND-ALONE FORMULA! (some speculation on my part: some leaks didn't help with the writing process; different writers for different episodes (good idea for brainstorming, bad idea for the core characterisation and story); and... well, they certainly aren't good, or at all, detectives, or long-time planners - i mean, you plan several seasons, but not the finer details? the devils are in them, not in investors whims and wishes in order to get money).

but the desperate hope, masochistic curiosity and the endless possibilities of lore and story are already deep in our brains and hearts that we have to see thru the actual chaotic dumpster mess of the show and how it ends - some love it, some hate the ride, some cope with fanfics, some with rants, and some left the train and are somewhere else. the rest who remain... well hello there! make sure you get enough rests, snacks, beverages of your choice and some meditations (any kind) to witness all!

anyway, that's my pov.

The writers apparently always wanted to tell a more complex story, they just couldn't early on because they'd sold the show as not having one:

So Sebastien sold the Miraculous series to broadcasters as a formula show. A person gets angry, is akumatized, then marinette transforms into Ladybug then frees the person from the akumatization and… The End. It's also for this reason that Marinette tries to confess her love for Adrien in every episode, but is unable to do so. But he tried to go against what he had planned with TF1, by slipping little extra stories into certain episodes. Audiences were receptive to these slightly hidden stories. The TV channel even asked Sébastien if there really were hidden things in the series, but he denied everything. Thanks to the positive reception from the public, TF1 agreed to develop the characters of Marinette and Adrien and flesh out the universe a little more.

My tin foil hat theory is that this conflict is at the heart of Miraculous' problems. The writers keep trying to make the show they want to make instead of the show they can make within the limits set by the higher ups and so you end up with the worst of both worlds. A show that's too serious to just turn off your brain and have fun with, but a show that's also too underdeveloped to tell a serialized story well. (Supporting evidence for this theory: the script for Chat Blanc getting rejected for being "too dark" leading it to be in season three instead of season two.)

I get the frustration of being held back from telling the story you want to tell, I really do, but I'm of the opinion that you should tell the best story you can within the limits you set instead of trying and failing to tell the darker grittier story that you really want to tell, but can't because no one will pay for it.

Context for that last bit;

So Sébastien started working with Thomas Astruc (the man who wrote and created the "Ladybug" project). At first, he didn't want to work on this project because he found it complicated. Thomas wanted to make a series for adults, but at the time, it was very complicated to make a cartoon for adults. What's more, they didn't have enough money to take on such a project. Sébastien finally agreed, but there were some changes to be made, which Thomas accepted.

(Note this is from the same interview linked above.)

[c1trvswurld]

I love jimmy. I really do.

He's an amazing horrible disgusting character and I love him. He has a deeply flawed psyche and a weird inferiority complex that feeds into another hero complex. So utterly consumed by guilt caused by him and no one else. So bad to the point he convinces himself, TRULY, convinces himself that this is curly's fault. That everything up to this point is both his and curly's fault. Almost like he wants to become him so badly, be everything he represented, become apart of him (the cannibalism). But yet is repulsed and envious.

He takes advantage of Anya because he thinks he "deserves" this. That he is owed. Even in death she is exploited by him, her comforting words used to justify the horrors he put himself and others through.

And funnily enough when he blames/shits on curly...he's somewhat correct. I can only assume curly has known jimmy was a POS for a while, the way he isnt infuriated at jimmy when Anya confided in him-the captain- and all he says is something along the lines of "I know him, he'll take responsibility"

Curly could have stopped pitying him, throwing him a bone, and this might have never happened, but to some extent, he was compliant. Liked, well, I loved jimmy too much, too much to cut the bullshit bc just like jimmy, he didn't want to take responsibility.

So they send others to do it and suffer for them.

[baphometsss]

i had a galaxy brain moment where i realised that by keeping solas subservient to her in the war as an advisor mythal likely thought (or convinced herself) that she was protecting him from being twisted from his purpose. bc as long as he gives wisdom he's fulfilling his purpose, right??

but obviously she didn't factor in that declaring herself a god along with the other evanuris and doing all the horrible shit she did to the elves e.g: drawing them from the fade, keeping them as slaves, binding them to her will, binding a dragon to her will to preserve her immortality, etc etc, she was essentially twisting him from his purpose anyway bc she was going against the advice he was giving her. and that's on top of the fact that she bade him serve in a war where he would kill and genocide the titans which like. obviously that was gonna corrupt him

then she finally does listen to him and ends up dying bc of it, bc by that point her hubris was so great that she thought she was more powerful than the rest of the evanuris combined. then she spends the rest of her existence as a fragment in the crossroads hating him for going against her in the first place like ??

gurl what the fuck were you expecting really

the problem is that by the time of her death she's a lot more demon than spirit. (and yes i know the delineation isn't that straightforward, but i digress.) demons are clearly not that intelligent and they're even referred to as 'dolts' by the spirit of command in crestwood. solas says that demons are not intelligent enough to change their strategy and so the best method of defeating them is to survive the first few minutes of the fight

it's also telling that mythal wanted to leave the fade when all the lore up to this game tells us that spirits who want to leave the fade are usually demons. (this is largely circle mage talk but i think it's pretty accurate to everything else we've been shown.) ofc we don't get a full explanation as to why mythal wanted to leave, but in the memory of manifestation, mythal talks about how they're the best of both worlds when they manifest. so whatever her full reasoning was, we have to assume that she was dissatisfied enough with her life as a spirit of benevolence that she was willing to take a very big risk by building a body out of lyrium to leave the fade.

it's also... really crazy that she's remembered as the all-mother, that she had this very loving side and preserved at least some of her benevolence. and i do think that at one point she was kind and loving to her people--this is the side of her that solas, abelas, felassan and all her followers loved, whom solas befriended in the fade. but in the end, it mostly boiled down to her being protective over what she deemed to be hers. as she got twisted, she went from benevolence to retribution; her loving nature became a demand to first prove that you are 'worthy' followed by the unleashing of her wrath against anyone who defied that judgement by attacking what she saw as being 'hers' (the worthy). to attack someone she has judged to be worthy is to question her judgement, and as her crossroads fragment shows, she cannot and will not tolerate being wrong or having her judgement questioned.

what i'm saying is that dragon mythal is like one huge allegory for narcissistic rage lol

and i'm not trying to say that this is all she is. she's way too complex to boil down to just one of her manifestations. she is, in effect, a system of personalities at this point, as a lot of spirits and ancient elves were. they were highly emotional beings who, unlike modern elves, had a hard time experiencing more than one emotion at a time. they got tangled up in trying to navigate such an unpredictable emotional landscape when they were used to things being comparatively simple

yeah i just. i guess all the elves had the solas quality where they could be incredibly cunning and smart but still trip up and pull some of the dumbest shit imaginable

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

< kiss it better. >

...

(i had an urge, or rather the need to draw them kissing. the sheer fact, that i didn’t ever draw anyone kissing before wasn’t enough to stop me. in the same way, jonathan’s lack of experience with kissing wouldn’t have stopped him from trying to lock lips with the bat. 

in this timeline, jonathan clearly already knows how to kiss bruce. must have done it enough times to get comfy with being affectionate in less … pushy ways. he also pretty familiar with small signs, that the bat doesn’t do all that well. some esp messed up / complicated cases would keep bruce sustained on little sleep an’ barely any time out of his suit. he shaves less frequently bc of it too. which is like the first sign, that he doesn’t pay a lot of attention to his daily habits. besides alfred, jonathan is the only other person, who notices those things an’ scolds the bat for it. which is ironic bc crane himself tends to huddle up inside some basement without a shower, much sleep or proper food for days, when he’s working on whatever. in a way, he’s even worse than bruce in that sense. but he doesn’t consider it a problem, when it’s him. but when it’s batman, now, that’s troublesome. an’ unlike bruce, who can literally haul him out an’ shove him into a bath *always have a vivid imagery of arkhamverse scarebat being in this situation* or put food in front of him an’ stand over jon till he eats it. jonathan has to be more ‘sly’ about his own methods. he prefers to egg the bat on, an’ kinda point out things until bruce might want to go an’ do smth just to prove him wrong lol. but he also attempts to coze the bat up with affection too. he’s not super graceful about it. but it’s the try that counts. an' he's hella smug about it, when he's successful, which is like almost always. really makes jon feel good about his knowledge of batman's inner workings.

meanwhile, i think, that bruce is often low-key surprised, when crane goes out of his way to be openly gentle, nearly consolatory with him. rather, then doing backwards things or weird gestures, that showing said gentle fondness. bruce in general is kinda reversed, when it comes to affection, even if he's better at giving it vs crane. but that's prob why the change manages to catch him off guard. his influence on jonathan's show itself in odd ways. i feel like jon is absolutely clueless about those things in the beginning. when he does them, he then acts very pissy an' embarrassed. but overtime, it gets less intense. he’s even let’s bruce lift his mask up his nose, after some time too. until that he acts all cagey about it. still very much self-conscious about his face. he can do it himself from time to time, but bruce is pretty much the only other person, he allows to do it at all. the complexity of their brain process, when it comes to their mask is smth else. they still cannot be normal about being just one single dude in the mask or without it lol.

anyways, jon can still be well, jon. he's weird an' love watching bruce's reactions on different things, bc he's still a scientist. and' professor of psychology. an' the scarecrow. therefore some kisses start with a small lick or a peck. another thing for bruce to ponder on. an' think how to respond in kind.

so yeps. just them kissing. it's one of those things that i wanna see an' think about [dreamily kicks legs] the end goal to make BTAS an' akrhamverse scarebat share a kiss as well.)

[instant-bull]

Hashirama thoughts I dumped on a Discord server recently. I'm not editing too much in them, sorry if any of this is chaotic. Hope you enjoy some exhausted rambling

Tonight I'm thinking about God Hashirama from the angle of "how fucked up his situation is".

Like, if he's some sort of a god, then imo the most compelling option would a Jesus sort of situation, rather than physical descendance from a god. He's born of humans but for some reason he's chosen, he possesses the mokuton, and I love how this can be linked to him being some sort of god of nature: not only trees, maybe, but plants, maybe even expanding into fungi (but that's discussion for another day because if I speak one more word on antropocene we will be here all night).

So, Hashirama, as a god of nature, rather a manifestation of nature than a power that controls it: he's not The God, but he is a god, for sure. Are there any gods? Maybe, but I think they are a completely different thing than Hashirama, and he doesn't concern himself with them.

So, the fucked up situation angle: he's a mortal god, born and trapped in a mortal body, surrounded by humans who see him as a human: a really skilled and powerful one, but a human nonetheless. Does he even realize he's a god? I think he does, to an extent, I think trees tell him a lot of different things and he listens to them dilligently. It'd an ancient forest, and compared to them he's young and small, but he's the link that connects humans and plants, and the one who's meant to keep them at a balance.

So, he realizes he's a god, but he never gets a god complex or anything like that: I think he's selfless enough, self aware enough to understand he can't be going around calling himself a god, lest he attracts unwanted kind of attention. He wants to plant seeds of peace (pun intended) so that when he's inevitably gone, his dream can go on without him. If he were to divide and conquer and set himself an emperor or something, it would all come crumbling down once he's gone. Nobody would be able to fill in his shoes. Nobody else is a god after all.

So, instead he chooses the difficult and slow-burning way of compassion and kindness, he puts on a brave and jovial face towards the world that hates him and builds himself a little nest in between of the whole chaos he cannot control. He demeans himself and works like a human, so that humans can pick up the pieces once he's gone. In the end, he's a god with no worshippers, with no faith on his side, and that's what makes him, in my opinion, very clingy and sensitive to rejection. He needs all the praise, all the support, all the worship he can get, it is only in his nature to crave that.

Also, his status, even if it's only in his head, is what gives him all that outgoingness and happy-go-lucky attitude. He doesn't see humans as equal to him, since they are so much weaker and unable to see and comprehend things he does: at best he observes them like how we observe puppies. He loves humans, he cares for them so much, but he struggles to truly connect with them. Perhaps he perceives and processes emotions differently, he's not fully human, he's kind of removed: that's why he doesn't treat things very seriously, unless they are concerning Very Big Ideas: his dream, his people... death, that one for sure. That's why he weeps real tears when his younger brothers die, but doesn't show a slightest bit of concern that he introduced his little granddaughter to gambling and took part in her being an addict: it's really not that deep, in his mind. It's a quirk, if anything, it's silly!

Tbh the say Hashirama views humans and his closest people is such a rabbit hole on its own... But last though rn is that I think he shows some psychopathic tendencies (this is hard to research bc most papers on psychopathy treat it like it's an Evil Person Disease: I mean mostly his thrill-seeking, low empathy (but great compassion), disregard for norms and rules and aforementioned detachment (in his case specific to his status)). Sorry if any of this is kind of disjointed

[broodwoof]

i'm gonna repost this with just the meta bc the first chunk was just very personal and i would like to include the companion meta in this masterlist... but not necessarily the personal stuff 😂

Veilguard Companions and Relationships

in davg, not one of the companions has an entirely healthy or sustainable approach to relationships of any type

it's hard for lace. she grew up learning how to make herself approachable, acceptable, pleasant. she made herself tolerable to everyone. she was young and vulnerable and she learned quick that it was safer if she conformed. if she made herself reflect the person she was talking to. if she doesn't stand up for herself, doesn't make waves, just lets things slide...

and lucanis picks up on that immediately. lucanis, who's a professional assassin, sees lace lying to make people happy and recognizes the behavior instantly. i'm still wrapping my mind around him, but to me, this implies that he - or possibly illario, i suppose - went through something similar; that, or that part of their training was around deceiving people, lulling them into a sense of security, and then betraying that. but to see lace doing it with her friends? i think that strikes him as very fundamentally different

and that's not even digging into the complexity between him and caterina...

then we have taash, who has been making themselves fit into a box their whole life. and now, finally able to step foot outside that box, they are loud about it, they are unapologetic, they are claiming and they are angry. and they know that shathann cares about them, in her way, that they matter to her, but it's not enough and it's not right and it's not the way taash needs to be loved and supported, so they're angry about that relationship, too; angry and regretful at the end that they could never come to a point of understanding one another. that's a very real grief. but they're also rough around the edges, they're harsh, they're critical, they're quick to anger and quick to hold grudges and slow to apologize if they ever do. yet they reach out and, with a little help, they're able to cross bridges, able to understand different ways of being. they're no longer constrained by grief and repression, and that allows them to be vulnerable in a way they struggled to before

and bellara. my current rook only does the stern/crossed arms options, and y'know, some of them are really harsh. and there have been times that bel has approved of that? and i don't... look, i admit there are multiple interpretations to everything, but like i said at the start, this is personal. so, to me, this is a neurodivergent woman used to being Too Much For Anyone and just accepting any criticism and rolling with it. she doesn't let herself feel hurt by it. she approves of it. she's used to being alone, and rook/irelin/strife/anyone who has ever even potentially criticized her is Probably Right, but it's fine, because she works better alone, anyway! and look at what she can do - she has these skills! it's okay if no one likes to spend much time with her, because she can be useful. and there's always the memory of cyrian, someone who not only accepted her, but loved her the way she was. no one can measure up to that, surely. it's because cyrian was special. she can't expect anything like that from anyone else... so she doesn't

davrin is one of the healthier companions in many ways, i think, but he's also used to a very particular type of relationship and i think he's fumbling a little without that familiar structure. these aren't wardens bonding over a shared struggle. and even though he felt on the outside of his clan, he also shared good times with them, but that was an intrinsic bond, the people he'd known his whole life, the people who shaped him. having to connect with people he has no shared history with is strange and unfamiliar, but he does it anyway - with all of them. and with assan. everything is so new for him, but he takes the opportunity, he wants the opportunity... but at the same time, he's so afraid of leaving everybody behind. he knows what it is to grieve, but does not want to be the reason they grieve. he wants to connect, and he does, but there's a very real fear there

and neve. god, neve. neve is the woman alone. she trusts no one, because they won't last. they'll leave. or, worse, they'll die - and it'll be her fault. again. she can't do that, so she doesn't trust. she accepts partnerships, but not friendships, certainly not relationships. she asks you to help her save her home, but she's not surprised if you save treviso instead. she's professional. after all, she's always been alone. and she should be - it's better this way. no strings attached. she can do what needs to be done, she can focus. no distractions. no trouble. no loose ends. (it's easier this way, surely)

and emmrich! emmrich. outwardly, he seems very put-together. he's very, very compassionate, very gentle, and always believes in everybody - even solas. and then he tells johanna that he would have helped her, if she'd just come to him, and that's when it clicks. he is loyal... to a fault.

don't misunderstand: i love johanna. i love their relationship, however you want to view it. but emmrich will not set anyone aside, he will not give up on anyone. he is scared to die, but he puts himself at great risk to save spirits he doesn't even know. and he doesn't have to know them to care about them. he is incredibly self-sacrificing, willing to risk not only death, but all of his life. by which i mean: his days, his time, his energy, his will, his focus, his faith. every part of his life, he is willing to dedicate to others. he can't be selfish. he can't take what he needs, or what he wants. he always gives, instead

and if you follow through on their companion quests and all, then each of these people grow. they find balance; some find a lot of balance, some are just finding the very beginning of the path, some go back and forth. and i'm sure the romances affect things, too. but there is not a single companion who has an entirely healthy approach to relationships of any kind, and none of them are children; they are all adults. some young adults, yes, but still all adults, and yet they struggle openly with relationships

and that's cathartic to see. that's representative. that's realistic and earnest. and it just means a lot to me

[makowo]

Hi welcome to my pjeg romance/kinda sexuality headcanons. explanations and further insights for each are under the cut 👇 not too many complex thoughts but do know that i have an aromanticism bias

Grace and Wolfgang: I don't think there's much to say here. Both have taken a look around and decided they do just like the opposite gender (each other). Grace definitely did more exploration of this than Wolfgang when she was younger, but both are pretty set in their ways. If we factor multishipping into this though then Grace has smth goin on with Eloise that's not so nice for either of them, but I don't think it's enough to warrant a change in labels. Transfem Wolfgang is also possible but I don't feel strongly enough about it to think it warrants a change in labels here.

Ingrid: Less stubborn about her preferences, she just has other things to worry about and lacks the time to explore her options more thoroughly. I don't think she's particularly attracted to anyone because she views herself as more of a mother/authority figure than in a position to have romantic partners. I don't ship her with anyone either, so she stays straight.

Jett: A beautiful bear that deserves the world. I could see him previously flirting with some other drivers before/after races, but has put his love life as a much lower priority due to his accident. Keeps an upbeat mood, but is more scared of actually fooling around with other people like that bcs the topic of his appearance is inevitable. Dawnteago or Jettmon will win out in the end though 🙏 in my mind. Might like Mark but Mark does not like him back.

Jean: Literally has a line about being "YMCA at sea." He's a ship captain that has lots of alone time around strong men and surely has needs. Man-liker through and through.

Ulysses: Okay here's how the lesbian part of this category factors in. He's a transfem lesbian in the making she just needs the time to think on it (which she doesn't get the time for).

Kai: Now he HAS explored a lot of his options just by nature of being on the internet. Says he's bi for clout when he's like 15 and then it comes true. Definitely still feels a little weird about liking men because of the lingering identity crisis.

Eloise: She was the hardest placement on this entire list. I don't think I have a strong enough grasp of her to feel confident about anything else though! Her being bi borders more on her not caring, but it feels like too much to put her in the uncaring category bcs she Does care. Idk idk. She's a situation.

Diana: Pansexual ^_^ She's very open to her possibilities and accepting of whoever, since her whole job is basically about prettying up anyone she meets.

Desmond: I think he also has an open mind but doesn't have his mind on who he's attracted to, really. He kind of gets along with most people, so he makes his judgements when people approach him, rather than considering if he should approach other people. If he enters a relationship though, he's gonna have to do some major restructuring of his routine, for obvious reasons.

Damon: The man of the hour, but also the most simple. I will be clear that I'm partially projecting and think that he's an aromantic bisexual because I am also that, BUT. I think he also just really struggles to feel romantic/sexual attraction in general. He doesn't like having to get close to other people, so he's very difficult to want and has a hard time wanting. Feeling romantic attraction takes a very long time for him under normal circumstances*, but when it hits, it hits hard. *Desmond is the exception. Damon likes him the moment he meets him and it spirals into a serious crush in a matter of days. Takes him so long to actually realize that he's feeling romantic love though.

Eva: Girl who has been neglected and unloved and self-isolates sooooooo god damn much. Doesn't feel any romantic attraction to other people and thinks of it as a waste of time. Pretty mean about the topic of romance until she's had friends for a while and feels more confident about herself. Gets into an aro4aro relationship with Cassidy, I know this in my heart.

Cassidy: Never has her mind on romance, and gets pretty awkward about it when she sees it or it's brought up in conversation. She does not know why for a while and plays it off. Maybe someone confesses to her and she's like "... Yeah, sure! Let's give it a try!" and then immediately feels bad bcs she doesn't feel aaaaanyyyyything for them besides like, being friends. Takes about a month to end that whole issue, and she loathes talking about it. Later on she latches onto Eva though, and they eventually agree on a low stakes friend-relationship thing, where they can just be friends but they're allowed to hold hands and casually kiss each other whenever they want. That's my Cass thoughts I hope u liked and enjoyed 👍

Mark: Okay. Can't say I have much to say for him. Might be gay, might be aro, kind of flip-flopping on it. Mark is my least favorite so as much as I do still like him, my thoughts on him are minimal.

Tozu: "Are you gay?" "The only way I get my thrills is through the chills that run down your spines when I walk into the room. Thank you for asking ^_^!"

Mara: No character yet. Next year 🙏 We'll see.

Wenona: I think she's gotten so many questions about this that it's wrapped around to complete apathy towards the idea of labels. Gets with Ulysses after she decides she's trans, but ultimately Wenona settles on the answer that she is "neutral to everyone, and more focused on business than her personal life."