#disclaimer: this is from someone else's screenshot

[cadybear420]

Honestly I'd much rather show up to a formal event in a Henley shirt and jeans than have to read this sort of bland-ass writing from picking a diamond outfit

[dnpbeats]

(Almost Solid) Proof That Dan Ran PhilsLion

I'm convinced that Dan was the person who ran the PhilsLion twit and I have receipts.  For anyone who doesn't know, PhilsLion is a twitter account that tweeted from the POV of Lion. It's commonly thought that this account was run by Phil. Besides the fact that he would interact with the account, there are multiple tweets that seem to be about him and dan. Unfortunately there's good reason to believe it wasn't Phil running it. HOWEVER there are many reasons that lead me to believe it was Dan who was tweeting from it, some of which is evidence based and some of which makes logical sense.

DISCLAIMER: All tweets I've included that are ostensibly about dan and phil's relationship are in reference to things that are confirmed by d&p themselves (e.g. the fact that d&p were romantically involved when they first met). I will not discuss anything that is not supposed to be public knowledge.

First let's look at when the Twitter was created. (Note: I am in UTC-8 so all screenshots will be in that time zone. I will say what time it would've been in UTC+0 (d&p's time zone) for clarity.)

Dan’s twitter account was created in May 2009. The first tweet from him (assuming he did not delete any older ones) was May 15 at 1:18pm. Presumably this is the day he got twitter.

On May 16 2009 at 3:19am Phil tweeted that he uploaded “I was kidnapped.” 

In this video he mentions his own personal twitter account, and there is an annotation of Lion saying “i want a twitter” (20sec into the video)

About 3 hours after the video was posted (6:26am UTC+0), we get the first tweet from PhilsLion (presumably this was right after the account was created)

May 16th 2009 was a Saturday. We know from Dan’s video “THE POWER NAP” that he worked at ASDA on Saturdays and Sundays from 5am-10am. So he would’ve been awake shortly after Phil posted the video. Also note that Dan presumably had an iPhone at the time (he tweeted something about iPhones in June 2009 and had no previous tweets before that about getting a new phone). He specifically tweeted in Sep 2009 about tweeting from his iPhone. Based on the fact that Dan literally showed up to work drunk and took a nap, I don’t think he is above going on twitter at work.

While this is not proof that Dan created the account, we can see that it’s definitely possible for him to have created the account. We know he would’ve been awake at the time the account was created, and it was approx. a day after he created his own twitter account, so making a twitter account would've been fresh in his mind.

We do have proof that Phil did not create the account. First, he edited the description of “I was kidnapped.” to say that someone [else] created PhilsLion:

He also tweeted May 16th (10:35am UTC+0 if that matters to anyone) basically saying the same thing as the video desc, implying that someone else made the account:

Finally in “AmazingJason” (posted May 26th) he mentions, again, “someone [else]” creating the Twitter account (about 20seconds in, the timestamp is linked). He encourages everyone to follow it and links it in the description of the video:

So unless Phil was really pushing that someone else created it even though he himself made it, it wasn’t him.

If you want to skip to Proof™ scroll down to the next photo of Phil. Before that, I’d like to debunk the 11:11/different time zone thing–I think this is the biggest reason people have claimed that the account was not run by Phil or Dan but rather some other random fan. On May 30th at 4:12pm UTC+0 and June 3rd at 4:19am UTC+0, PhilsLion tweeted about making wishes at 11:11. In order for these tweets to be made at ~11:11 local time, they would need to have been made in either UTC-5 or UTC+7. UTC-5 is US Eastern Time. UTC+7 is a time zone mainly consisting of Southeast Asia. This includes parts of Indonesia, Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, and Vietnam. I have an explanation for this, which is certainly the biggest reach of this whole thing, but it is a plausible explanation :p

It’s very possible that it was Dan who tweeted this if he was on vacation with his family at the time. We know Dan and his family have vacationed in Asia many times (at the very least they went to Thailand in 2006, India in 2010 and 2013, and Sri Lanka in 2016). So while there’s no proof (that I know of) that Dan was on vacation at this time, it’s certainly possible that he was. The location of the tweets would fit with where we know his family likes to go on holiday. Additionally, the second tweet talks about water skiing, which tends to be a fun vacation thing rather than something people do regularly (note this tweet would be at 11:19am in UTC+7)

There’s further proof that PhilsLion was not always in UTC+7. On Christmas 2009, PhilsLion tweeted “goodmorning” at 6:21am UTC+0. This would be 1:21pm in UTC+7. It makes a lot more sense for this to have been tweeted in England.

Then fast forward to January 8th 2011. PhilsLion tweets “I was up all night” at 8:05am UTC+0. This would be 3pm in UTC+7. So again, it seems that PhilsLion was not in UTC+7 at this time.

Okay, now onto much more solid evidence. First, the handwriting of PhilsLion. This is the most tangible piece of proof. On June 25th 2009 Phil posted “AmazingAlex,” where Lion can be seen behind him in one of Phil’s shoes:

Lion tweeted a photo the next day, saying “I’m on a boat :)” in reference to being in Phil’s shoe

Note that the drawing/writing does not appear in the video and therefore was done by whoever runs PhilsLion. Here is some of Dan’s writing (found in TABINOF) for comparison:

This is from the “how to draw cat whiskers” page. Notice how the As all have the crossbar quite high up, just like in the twitter picture. Additionally, the top loops in the Bs are all very skinny compared to the bottom loop. Here’s another one of Dan’s capital Bs from the blindfolded portrait page, which is similar to Lion's writing:

I’m not a handwriting analysis expert, and yes it’s different drawing on MSPaint vs. a piece of paper, but the handwriting certainly has similarities.

And now, the more circumstantial evidence, but things that seem (imo) to be too big of a coincidence to not have been written by Dan (FYI these are going to be added in order of how much of a reach they are, not chronological order, lol). First we have “I month you”:

This tweet is proposing an alternate word for “love” and ends with “I month you” (i.e. is replacing the word love with month), and was tweeted on November 19th 2009. AKA exactly a month after dan and phil met IRL for the first time.

Another one that seems very related to Dan and what we know of his situation is this tweet about “Lion’s” dad:

In Dan’s own words in BIG: “I didn’t think I could ask my family for help or share my feelings about this, mainly due to my dad. Funny guy, kind of a woke hippie who did and said a lot of things I did respect but at the same time used to walk around the house saying how he hoped someone he had a problem with at work would 'die of bum cancer.' Yep, so picked the one area to be a bigot that would further traumatize your child. Nice! This experience coming from a childhood hearing the word gay meaninglessly thrown around as an insult at home[.]” 

Note that Dan was still living at home at the time, so if this tweet was made by him, it wouldn't have meant literally “getting away.” Also, Dan was at home when this was tweeted but it was 3 days before he was going to see Phil.

Next there’s this tweet:

The “admirers” thing could be referring to anything really, but was tweeted during the time that Dan (and Phil) were in the Clipstar video contest. Also, Dan posted this dailybooth two days before this tweet, and most of the comments are just gassing him up, so lol (the pic doesn’t load but based on the comments I think it was a screenshot from his clipstar vid).

This tweet from Christmas Eve 2009. Dan and Phil were together and filming the interactive Christmas adventure:

Proof they were together if anyone needs it:

This tweet (tweeted November 26 5:45am UTC+0)

Many things to note here. The song linked is called “When I See You Again.” It’s by Dave Bullas (one of the founders of SiTC), whom d&p were/are friends with. (They had other friends who were friends with him as well. PJ has the top comment on the video.) The lyrics of the song are not really happy as they insinuate a breakup. But it’s interesting to think about them in the context of wanting to see someone who you are not able to. This tweet was 3/4 days after the “I wonder how biology…” tweet and 3 days before Dan went to see Phil.

Also, Dan just LOVES recommending music to people. He does it a lot.

(^ Proof Dan was seeing Phil on the 29th if anyone needs it)

Now a tweet exchange which doesn't technically prove anything, but I thought was curious. Phil tweeted December 29 2010 about getting a new camera:

Lion tweeted in reference to this 20 minutes later:

I find this interesting because Phil made no comment anywhere about manuals or ignoring them. So it could just be PhilsLion making schput, but a lot of the other Lion tweets are in direct reference to something Phil said/did. It would make sense if Dan ran the twitter acc and he was talking about something that he witnessed Phil do that we don’t know about. Also note “my new camera is here” vs. “phil picked up his new camera” (Lion giving more specific detail than Phil in terms of the manner in which he obtained the camera).

Some Tweets (1, 2, 3) which aren’t proof of anything but just sound like things Dan would say:

For context, this is about floods that happened in Queensland. Again, I have no way to prove Dan said this. But if you’ve ever read, like, anything Dan has said in a print interview ever or watched any of his liveshows, you know that he often tries to say stuff with superfluous/pretentious language and then ends up not making a whole lot of sense. Things that he’s said have been misconstrued so many times, or just outright don’t make sense to anyone but him. So this series of tweets checks out, if it is Dan who ran the account.

This Twitter exchange which doesn’t actually prove anything but is very sweet if it is dan who tweeted it:

The photo is a screenshot from “AmazingJason”:

Note that two weeks later (October 23) in “Life without the internet!?” Phil says the internet led to him “meeting the best friend of [his] life.” The comments all assume he is referencing Dan, but in the video he holds up Lion, so presumably that’s actually who he’s talking about. That is, unless Lion represents Dan :p

Lastly, this tweet which is a Fall Out Boy lyric, but again would be cute if it was Dan:

There's a few more tweets that are interesting to think about being from Dan but don't actually prove anything so I won't put them here lol.

So, at the end of the day, could it be some random fan* who made the twitter account? Yes. But in my opinion there isn’t really anything proving it’s not Dan. On top of that, there are enough things that fit with what we know factually about d&p now, but were not well known at the time, that make it seem much more likely that Dan ran this account vs. a random person.

*technically when the account was started, Dan himself was a random fan. So there’s that too ;)

P.S. best practice is to not interact with old tweets, so pls don't go on a retweet spree

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 12

content warning: Miguel is very dramatic in this one, mentions of food

word count: 4k (SHOUTOUT TO MY BETA!! @slushycoookie 🩵)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: This story is not canonical. 😒 Most, if not all, of the characters used are OOC. I literally can not stress this enough.

GymRat!Miguel who tries not to dwell on the fact that it’s been just about a month since he’s seen you. It’s the middle of the week and if he thinks about it too much, he’s going to go crazy.

It feels odd because you’re on the same campus as him. You’re not across the country. You’re not out of the country. You’re literally a short walk or drive away and neither of you have time to see each other.

He’s considering printing your pictures out and walking around with them like a forlorn lover looking for his lost soulmate. It feels like he’s back in his bedroom staring at your pictures for hours like a man at war aching for home.

He’s exhausted all of his options.

The couple-lunches have all been rain-checked, the weight of your workload trapping you in the Art building.

Your sleep schedule was terrible, if the late night TikToks and reels were anything to go by. He knew you had morning classes too so he could only assume you’ve had a few hours of sleep during the weeknights.

The weekends were for rest and he didn’t want to disrupt yours.

Your dorm tracked visitors which means he’d only have a few hours with you before curfew if you were even there.

GymRat!Miguel who misses you so bad he’s temporarily replaced his gym playlist for the one you gifted him.

His face is set hard, feet heavy as he sprints over a curved treadmill. After a few minutes he stops, takes a small break, and runs again.

Even the melodic and somber voice playing over a groovy piano couldn’t soothe his thoughts.

His heart rammed in his chest as sweat trickled down his face, his tank drenched and clinging to his chest.

Just a few more sprints to go.

GymRat!Miguel who slides the ear of his headphone off because Xina is standing in front of him, blocking his path.

“Anymore sprints and you’re going to pass out,” she hands him a towel.

“Maybe I want to,” Miguel grumbles, nabbing the towel and rubbing his face like someone spit on it.

Xina grabbed her ponytail and pinned it up, loose hair sticking to her neck. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny. I can only manage pulling your body to the entrance to the gym.”

Miguel snorted.

GymRat!Miguel who fills up the time that he used to spend with you to get to know his friends and meet others.

This meant having game nights with Peter and Ben. They were so close, not really, to convincing him to join their DND parties.

If he wasn’t with them, he was occasionally calling The Geek Squad and catching up. A Friendsgiving date was now tentatively on his calendar because of it.

Of course, his robotics team was still going steady. Aaron was interesting, if nothing else, and Margo was like the little sister he never had.

Then, there was checking up on Gabriel like a Tamagotchi. Was he eating ok? Did he need some money? Is he trapped in the subway? Did a rat eat him?

Gabriel had sent him a screenshot of his contact with his name being changed to “Mom #2.”

Miguel only scoffed and told Gabriel his name was going to get changed to “pain in my ass.”

The newest development, however, was Xina. Her transferring here felt like middle school when they used to be attached at the hip.

They had their programming class together two days out of the week, biweekly study sessions, and the occasional late night excursion.

It also explains why she’s eyeing him from the stairmaster while he heaves over the handles of the treadmill.

GymRat!Miguel who thanked Xina as she handed him his jug of water. He sat up from the bench to let her take a seat.

“So,” she started.

“I’m not helping you hack your professor’s dashboard. While you could do it, it’s not a good idea and quantum physics isn’t that-“

“It’s not that, you dick,” Xina pinched his side. “It’s you. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up with me.”

“Miguel.”

“Xina.”

“Now, you’re being a brat. Something is definitely wrong.”

Miguel picked at the peeling Game Over sticker on his bottle. He needed to tape it down or he’d lose it.

“I miss her.”

“Miss who? Your mom?”

“What? No. I miss my girlfriend.”

It was quiet between them, the sound of chatter and the clanking of equipment filled the white noise.

Xina tilted her head, “That bad?”

Miguel nods.

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

He takes a dramatic breath, “Our anniversary date. Last month. I feel…”

“Like you can’t function? Like it’s hard to think?”

“Is that pathetic?” Miguel winces. “I have a feeling you’re going to say that it is.”

“No, I don’t think that.”

Miguel pouts as he looks up. Xina shrugs and slides her hands on down her leggings.

“Remember the times I went boy crazy? All the times I came crying to you after they screwed me over, even when you already warned me they weren’t good guys? I think you deserve to be crazy about your girlfriend.”

“Thanks,” Miguel blinked. “You were way too nice to those first guys.”

“I learned though, didn’t I? I know a good guy when I see him, now,” Xina pushed at Miguel’s shoulders with hers.

“And now those self-defense lessons won’t go to waste, right?”

Xina snorted as she recalled the time she managed to flip Winston on his back at Miguel’s instruction.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Xina’s eyes grow in shock when he tells her how long he’s been dating you.

“Dang,” Xina stops in her tracks. “A year?”

Miguel puffs up his chest and stands a little straighter, a confident stride in his step, “One year and counting.”

“That’s,” Xina turns and waits for a car to go by. She readjusts her gym bag. “That’s awesome, Hare-Hare.”

GymRat!Miguel who feels the mood shift by the time he drops Xina back off. He’s not sure what’s brought it up, but now he’s nervous about upsetting her more.

He taps on the wheel, after he pulls into a park.

“You sure you don’t want me to get you anything? You don’t need to go anywhere?”

Xina unbuckles her seatbelt, “Nope. All good. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he watches her close the door before he can even finish. “See you.”

GymRat!Miguel who obliges when Xina texts him the next day to switch up their study session location.

Miguel wanted to keep the busy calm of the 1st floor of the library but Xina insisted on giving him a change of scenery.

“It’s good for you! You stare at the screen all day when you’re coding,” Xina slams Miguel’s car door to which he sneer at her for. “You need to look up and smell the coffee sometimes.”

“You just want a reason to not do your work.”

Xina turns around and walks backwards in front of Miguel, “And that’s completely fine. We should live a little.”

She trips over the edge of the sidewalk with a yelp and Miguel is quick to catch her, the panic on his face evident.

“See,” she grins as she pulls herself up by Miguel’s shoulders. “Living!”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Xina order for him while he finds a table.

The cafe was bright, white wood accenting the walls with vines and plants adorning the area. Salmon pink brought a pop of color to the sandy-looking tables and fairy lights hung in the corners of the room.

Miguel’s eyes grew as he saw the variety of desserts on display, his mouth itching to take a bite.

“No, no, no. Go away. I’ll pick something you’ll like,” Xina blocks Miguel’s lingering eyes.

Miguel clicks his teeth, “If it’s not good, I’m going to be really upset.”

“I doubt it.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks deeper into the cafe. He’s dodging ceiling plants left and right, but he’s sure that the best seats are in the furthest of the building.

He shuffles around a corner, eyes adjusting to the sun coming through window.

He blinks a few times and takes in the spacious area.

That’s when he sees you.

He walks fast, the strides of his steps wide.

The closer he gets, the stronger the smell of peaches builds. The sun was shining down like it granted Miguel one the greatest gifts of his life. Its rays danced across the spot that you're in.

He gets to your chair and pulled it out with ease, the sound disrupting the hushed corner.

A pen falls to the floor, voices are cut short, and arms are flailing but Miguel’s nose is buried deep into your neck.

Your arms tighten around his neck and your voice skips across his ears.

“I-” a kiss across your face, “missed you so much.” Miguel looks at you like you hold the stars in the sky within your palm.

“You scared the shit out of me, Miguel,” you say with no really malice in your voice. Your thumbs run across his cheeks, watching as he beams at you. You kiss him once or twice, heart fluttering as your feet dangle in the air.

“I hope there aren’t many people picking you up in the middle of establishments,” Miguel mumbled across your lips.

“Guys, there’s people staring at us,” a voice creeps in from the side of Miguel.

Miguel’s eyes follow it to see a deer-looking kid with hoodie pulled up over his ears.

“Who is this?”

GymRat!Miguel who is introduced to Miles, your freshman classmate that you’ve taken in.

He’s sitting across the table nodding along to you as you rave about Miles’ work. The entire time, his right hand didn’t leave your left one.

“So,” Miguel chimes in when there’s a pause. “Have you both been coming here a while?”

“Nah, I just dragged her out here recently. She never leaves the art building when a deadline is near. It’s kind of depressing-“

“You know, Miles.” You're holding back an eye roll. “There are times when you could just not talk.”

“No, actually tell me more,” Miguel insisted, attentive.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries to help a struggling Xina when she rounds the corner with a tray full of goodies.

A cinnamon roll, a lemon tart, a tall purple drink, and some warm tea is placed on the table while you and Miles clear the area.

You sit up straighter to watch Miguel pick up the tea cup and blow over it. “Tea? No milk with a pinch of coffee?”

“Amor…”

Xina looks over to his cup, “Did you want something else?”

“No, this is good, I haven’t had this in a while,” he takes a sip and hums while explaining to you. “I’ve been on this sweet drink kick since she let me try her frappe last year.”

“That’s rich because you always hated it when I got those.”

“To be fair, you downed like four of those in one day. I’m surprised your body didn’t go into shock.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Four in one day must have meant you were going through it.”

Xina smiles and nods her head, “Exactly. And I told him-”

“We’re not doing this,” Miguel grumbled and stabbed his fork into his roll. “Four was way too much and she was bouncing off the walls all day just to crash and throw up on my shoes.”

“I said I was sorry about that!”

GymRat!Miguel who cuts pieces of his dessert to feed to you. You look at him incredulously as he insists on giving you bite after bite.

“Is it good?” Miguel asks chewing his own piece. You nod and he grins, happy in the bubble he’s created.

When Xina reaches for his plate for a piece he slides it away with ease, a move he knows too well.

“Why can’t I have some? I bought it.”

“You didn’t even ask!”

“Neither did she!”

Miles leans over to you, “I feel like I’m watching a fight between me and my baby sister.”

Miguel is pushing Xina’s hands away from his plate while she laughs up a storm. You think that it does mirror something like Gabriel and Miguel’s relationship, but something about Miguel isn’t the same.

GymRat!Miguel who continues his Tom and Jerry act with Xina even when the food is gone.

They were bickering over some formula that you couldn’t begin to figure out by yourself. To Miguel, it’s easy. To Xina, the setup makes no sense.

“How did you survive Ivy League without me?” Miguel asks as he reaches over and erases an error on her page.

“Like I do anything else, with peace.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Miguel points his pencil at Xina, “you hate me and I am not needed for problems 4 through 10.”

“No!” she panics, pushing his pen back to the paper. “I need you to start this one. I don’t understand it.”

“We just did one like this, though. It’s just the imaginary number all over again.”

Xina groaned and slumped in her chair while Miguel just turned back to his on work.

GymRat!Miguel who peers up from his computer to watch you work. You eyebrows pinch as your wrist moves across the large sketchpad in front of you. Your hand is moving fast and you’re so focused. Miguel hasn’t seen you like this before. In your element.

He leans his head on his hand, cheek squished and staring at you like he’s never seen you, like you were something to be admired.

You were pretty today, a sweater with some cartoon on it and some jeans that flared out at the bottom. Your bunny necklace was dangling around your neck and your glasses were falling down your nose.

You push them back and a smudge of charcoal from moving Miles’ artwork gets on your cheek.

“Stare at her any harder and she might grow something freaky,” Miles whispers.

Miguel falters and grabs a napkin, leaning to wipe your cheek, “She has something on her face.”

GymRat!Miguel who tries to be even more discreet as he watches you fill up the page. It’s mesmerizing seeing what you come up with.

He’ll type a little bit then look at your sketches, he’ll click a few links then look at your face. Sometimes, you would catch him looking and smile at resulting in his heart picking up.

Occasionally, Miles would ask your opinion on something and you would give him pointers, the two of you discussing something about focal points and rule of threes.

Miguel just wanted to put his stuff up and listen to you all day.

“What are you working on?” Xina asks, her voice breaking the silence. She’s staring directly at your drawings, fingers tapping against her notebook.

You perk up and flip your pad around, “It’s some ideas for one of our bigger projects! The theme is reinventing a classic, so I’m thinking something like a spin on Lady Godiva with a haunted theme and darker palette. Or The Fallen Angel with a bird’s eye perspective of him on the ground.”

You took a breath and flipped the page, “And then there’s The Kiss which I wanted to actually do a glaze to really give it that ‘mosaic’ look.”

Miguel leaned in with Xina to take a closer look.

The sketch was exceptional to say the least. Miguel wasn’t too sure how the original painting looked, but your drawing detailed a woman wrapped in these angular, moving shapes. Her face was angled up and a far-off look adorned her features. To her right sat a man whose lips were on her neck and his attention solely on her.

It was soft, yet strong. How you managed to put so much intimacy onto a single page was beyond him.

The feeling of it was familiar and when he looked up at you, he knew.

Miguel opens his mouth, “It’s..”

“Boring.”

“Beautiful.”

He turns to Xina with a frown on his face as she flips back to the front page.

“I mean, I think one of the other two is better, you know? More of a twist on the originals. The last one feels safe.”

The table is quiet as Xina’s comment marinates. She’s flipping further into your book and Miguel promptly snatches it from her and closes it a bit harder than he needs to. Miles shifts in his seat, chewing on the straw of his drink.

“Can you explain why it feels safe to you?” your fingers pick at a nail.

She looks up, “Well, don’t you want to stand out? Out of the others, I don’t think this one is that unique.”

“The point isn’t to stand out,” Miles chimes in. “The assignment is about remixing a classic and all three of these do that pretty well.”

Your smile is small, “Thanks, Miles.”

“So which one do you think is better?” Xina asks.

“The last one,” both Miles and Miguel say.

“It carries the emotion of the original while also bringing more focus to couple rather than the abstracted cloth. You can see the love between them in a way that the original doesn’t have and it’s not even painted yet,” Miles talks with ease. “But! That’s just my opinion.”

“I think it’s powerful,” Miguel hums. “You should go with that one.”

You nod, thumbing over the corner of the pages.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Miles nearly fly out of the cafe.

Something about catching the bus to go see a friend perform.

“Poor thing,” you mumble. “He didn’t even buy the tickets yet.”

GymRat!Miguel who can almost see the stress coming off of you in waves the later it gets in the evening.

“Are you alright?” Miguel places his hand over yours.

“Yeah, I think I need a nap.”

“Need me to drive you back?”

“No, it’s fine. You need to drive Xina back.” You start to pack up. “I brought my car anyways.”

Miguel follows your movements, hands putting his laptop up as well.

He hurries to pull your chair out and you thank him with a quiet voice. He follows you from the table to the door to your car. The scene is almost comical the way he’s in your peripheral.

“Will I see you again soon?” Miguel leans on the hood of your car, body practically falling onto you in the driver’s seat. “We gotta set up a date.”

“I’ll see what I can do, baby,” you rub his face and kiss the kicked-puppy look off of his face. “I’ll text you once I get back.”

“Please.”

GymRat!Miguel who throws his backpack in the backseat and slumps over the wheel once he’s certain your car was down the road.

“What now?” Xina patted Miguel’s back. “You miss her again?”

Miguel just dug his head onto the horn, the effect alerting anyone within 50ft radius.

“Ok, ok,” Xina yanked him up by his shoulders only for him to drop back down again. She sighs and grabs the back of his head with a slight yank to his hair.

Miguel swats her hand away with a grit to his teeth and a pinch to his brows.

Xina only holds her hands up with a grin lining her lips, “Calm down.”

“You’re really annoying me today.”

Xina drops her hands and her smile falters. Miguel straightens up with an apology on the roof of his mouth before Xina picks back up with joy.

“What I think you need is an awesome rager for your birthday.”

“No.”

“Why not? It could be fun!”

“I’m all partied out until next year.”

“Not even with your friends? People from your department? A couple of classmates? The robo nerds?”

“That’s robo rockstars to you.”

Xina laughed and buckled her seatbelt.

“I think it could be great, seriously. We’re doing it.”

Miguel only groaned and turned on the ignition.

GymRat!Miguel who wanted to use his Sunday for relaxation, a cheat day, maybe a game or two with Gabriel, Peter, and Winston.

Instead, he’s lying on his bed listening to Xina rant about one of her roommates using the sink as a trash can.

“Like we have a ridiculously expensive trash can that’s less than a foot away from the sink. It’s a simple spin and drop.”

“Ok, I get this is really gross, but don’t you have other friends you could bother?”

Xina pauses, and points her finger at him, “Hey, I’m here to help you out. If I wasn’t here, who knows how down in the dumps you’d be.”

“This isn’t helping me.”

GymRat!Miguel who answers his phone while Xina has managed to pull Peter into a game of Overcooked on his Switch.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Miguel! How do I connect your father’s computer to the TV? He found a movie that we could watch but the screen is so small.”

“He found a movie but can’t connect cords?”

“Just answer the question, mijo.”

Miguel sits up, prepared to spend at least forty minutes trying to explain what an HDMI cord is.

“Yeah.”

Xina gasps, pauses the game leaving a displeased Peter, and hops into the corner of Miguel’s phone.

“Hi, Mrs. O’Hara!”

“Hola, mi dulce niña! Hace mucho que no te veo. ¿Que tal te ha ido?“ (Hello, my sweet girl! I haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?)

“Más o menos, pero me alegro de verte.” (So-so, but I’m happy to see you.)

“No, Xina! ¿Qué tienes?” (What’s wrong?)

Miguel just plopped the device in Xina’s hand, “I like how you both started a conversation on my phone.”

“We’ve got important things to discuss,” Xina waved him off while she and his mother continued to fawn over each other.

Miguel just slid off the bed and joined Peter.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t get his phone back until curfew hours are around the corner.

Xina and his mom discussed everything from reality TV to recipes to her time up north. Xina left happier than when she came in which Miguel didn’t mind. He just wished he could have had the room to himself.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see your message until he’s about to go to sleep.

“Baby”

“Let’s do something together on your bday”

Miguel unpeeled his eyes and typed swiftly.

“YES”

“YEESSSS”

“Best birthday ever already”

“Someone’s excited”

“I haven’t even said what we’re doing yet”

“What are we doing”

“Tell me please”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease”

“Mmm”

“No”

“It’s a secret 🙂‍↔️”

“I can wait”

“That you are”

“Sometimes”

“😗”

“But mi luz I think Xina is trying to plan something too”

“Oh”

“Should we raincheck then?”

“NOOOOOO!”

“I can do both”

“I’ll literally split myself in two”

“You don’t have to choose”

“My gift is small”

“I want you to have fun on your special day”

“Can you come to the party?”

“I don’t want to miss it but I’ll have to see”

“If anything it’ll be much later”

“As long as I get to see you I’ll be happy”

“Good night bebé”

“Night!”

"Love you"

“Love you more"

divider by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I have no notes other than school is starting back up so my posting schedule will be even more irregular. 🤠 Please bear with me.

The taglist has reached the max number! If you want updates, check my blog, turn on post notifs, or subscribe to it on AO3!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu

@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms

@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx

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@snakelore @pigeonmama @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli @koikohib

@jayskookies @xo-zeze @planetxella @thedevax @stressed-cherry

[s-grunge]

Do you have a ranking list of in Total Drama characters?

Well, I do have a number one favourite since childhood. Have I really made any attempt to hide it?

Under the cut is a long-winded ramble about character rankings, but tldr; there is no ranking list. Sorry for the non-answer.

Disclaimer: I haven't seen the reboot and I tend to focus mostly on the first cast of characters anyway, so any opinions past that don't hold a lot of water anyway, go figure.

Honestly, I was gonna try to make a tier list just for this ask, but I lost my progress on it and took it as a sign from the universe not to go through with it.

I don't think a ranking list would be very useful or accurate to represent my thoughts anyway, at least for something as broad and subjective as my general character opinions. It feels like the moment I'm done making one, I'm only allowed to view these characters the way I ranked them initially for the rest of time. It also feels like it'll only invite conflict from other fans, I don't wanna undersell a character that someone else loves just because they're not my cup of tea.

I'm only dying on a hill for one of these guys and you already know who he is.

For the majority of characters below my number one, I don't have a concrete placement, more of each having an ever spinning revolving door between appreciated but not thought about much to "My skrunkly beans!!1!". Sometimes I forget how much I actually like the character off the top of my head 'til I see them in the show, a screenshot or fanart, or am reading about them in a fanfic and am like "Damn I love this character".

Most characters I lean more towards disliking are, at worst, characters I'm ambivalent towards (a lot of the Pahkitew characters fall into this category), and the only ones I have more conscious negative or uncomfortable feelings towards are off the top of my head, Sierra and Sugar, but probably not for the reasons you've often heard others say.

but yeah, thanks for reading my opinions about opinions. to reward your efforts, heres the progress for the drawing I did.

[2smolbeans]

Part 1 Part 2.5 character info

He let out a soft series of chuckles. Staring at you with a pitiful look, showing an expression of fake sympathy.

"I don't love you, and I never will. Not even if you beg and try. "

Love Me, Love Me Not (2)

Yandere Best Friend x Obstacle Reader

*unedited

Tags: small description of Nsfw- they don't fuck, self loathing, hostage keeping, one sided attraction, betrayal, mentions of previous friendships the yandere broke, slight angst, yandere is attracted to someone else, escape planning, mentions of a previous murder victim, reader is complicit to the murders, guilt, past memories.

Disclaimer: This is just a scenario I thought of with an Oc! So nothing is really 'official' or canon-

_____________________________

You look at the door, contemplating your next move. It's right there, just staring at you. The latch was loose, Marco didn't consficate the butter knife like he did usually whenever the two of you ate, and he was no where to be seen. It was so fucking conveinent, so perfect. Too perfect...Maybe you were just paranoid. The latch. The door. Just do it. Run. Sprint. Why were you panicking? This was all on you now. Your legs were shaking as you wobbled your way towards the door, grabbing the butterknife that you were previously cutting the lamb chops with. Trembling, you tried to bust open the secuirty latch. But ultimately you ended up throwing the butterknife into the sink.

Falling onto the couch, grabbing a soft pillow as a soother, you let out a frustrated scream. It's better to be safe than sorry. If anything, Marco could be hiding behind the door waiting for you. For all you know, Marco could be waiting outside the apartment complex exits, standing by while he prepares to tackle you when you finally rush outside. He could be testing you. Why wouldn’t he? It was just predictable. You knew better than to assume that Marco would freely let you loose.

So you waited, and waited. The more time passed, the more you started second guessing your choice. Wow, maybe he was just clumsy. For what seemed like forever, Marco finally rushed into the room, slamming the door open before closing it shut.

"Did I scare ya?"

He smugly spoke, swaying his way towards you while he dragged two suitcases. Stiff from the frozen fear that had shot you in the chest, you only stared at Marco wide eyed.

"I'll take that as a yes..? Anyways stay put, I just need to do this real quick.."

Peeking into the contents of the suitcases, you heard Marco examine and fix the locks. Noticing that one of the latches were left loose, Marco turned back to look at you- surpirsed yet expecting this from you. You stayed, you're still here.

Huh...

While Marco was preoccupied with himself, you reached out into one of the luggages. It was your stuff! Holding out an old shirt of yours, you let out an accidental gasp.

"Oh yeah, I figured that you might want a few things of yours. I mean I can't have my roomie empty handed~"

Underwear, socks, shirts- everything! He even brought a few extra things like your plushies and accessories! Smiling, you thanked him while you zipped up the zipper of the suitcase.

"No problem dude! Anyways you can go do whatever, fool around in your room or something. I dunno?"

Can you leave?

"Hahaha! HA! You're hilarious!"

Scoffing, you nudged Marco's shoulder, making your way to your 'bedroom'. Closing the door behind you, you took out all of your belongings from the two suitcases. Searching through the pile of stuff you had, you managed to find your phone! Immediately powering it on, you tried calling the authorities. Even trying to turn on your mobile data so that you could contact somebody through your socials. Though expectantly, your phone had blocked all of those options. No service, no nothing. Scrolling through the photo gallery, you looked at the photos you took, all the stupid screenshots you saved. You and him, it's always been the two of you. Of course, sometimes it would be you, him, and.. Matheias and Angela.. You just stare at their faces, feeling nothing as you observe their smiles. You were all so happy back then..

"

Matheias screamed as he lunged himself towards Marco, crying as his sobs echoed the room. Quickly, you grabbed Matheias by the arm, struggling to keep him still as he dragged you along with him. You shouted at Matheias, scolding him while also begging him to calm down as he continued to howl at Marco. Trying your best to keep Matheias away from Marco, you were forced onto the floor as Matheias shoved you away from him. Showing concern, Marco rushed towards you, trying to help you back on your feet.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER- HOW COULD YOU?!"

He screeched, throwing chairs, his face red with anger. Helping you up, Marco cautiously approached Matheias- holding his two palms up as he slowly approached. Calmly, Marco tried to speak to Matheias.

"Come on..Please let's not do this. Not now - just not now, okay? Please, let's just talk this out-"

Panicked, Matheias threw something at Marco, trying to keep more distance.

"LIAR! You fucking CUNT!"

Persistent, Marco was beginning to lose his composure. His voice was now on the verge of shaky tears as he lowered himself to Matheias's height level.

"P-Please..We just- it's her- fucking hell.. Come on Matheias! Really man?"

The more Marco spoke with sincerity, the more Matheias reacted. The more Marco tried to reach out to Matheias, his grieving work buddy.. His best friend..The more terrified you saw Matheias get.

"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. You're sick- Stop that. Those aren't real.."

Trying to descalate the situation, you spoke firmly towards Matheias. Enough is enough. You've had it with the accusations about Marco, the delusions and rumors Matheias had accumulated about him. It was tiring seeing Matheias grow bitter against the only person trying to hold everyone together. You were annoyed with how he was reacting. Everyone was mourning, nobody was themselves. You understand that, you can sympthazie with him. You're also hurting. You miss her too. It was just the three of you now. So why, out of all people, he could've chosen to take his anger out, did it have to be Marco? Hysterically, Matheias let out a series of laughs. Rolling his eyes as he pointed a finger at you.

"Oh yeah! Of course you believe him! I think I know why. Trying to get some brownie points aren't you?"

He marched towards you, keeping his finger pointed at you. His voice so loud and angry, it began to ring your ears.

"It's always been like that! Don't you find it fucking unfair how he's always the innocent little sheep in every sitaution?!"

He let out an exasperated breath, his hands aggressively flying everywhere.

"But NOOOOOO! EVERYONE LOVESSS MARCO! The fucking psychopath. Fucking murderer. And I'm the only one that fucking knows!"

Stop it, you beg. You're being delusional, you cried. You held back your tongue, knowing that Matheias wasn't being himself. He always had an issue with his temper, so you knew you had to be patient with him. But you've done that so many times throughout the friendship. It's beginning to run thin. Espically now.

"Why don't you just say it huh? Why don't you just admit it? Tell him. Just fucking-"

Out of instinct, you rushed towards Matheias. Raising your hand as the palm of it harshly came into contact with his face. Tears streaming down your cheeks, you slap him again..And again..And again..Stopping when Marco had to pull you away from him. Holding you in a hug as the hiccups and sniffles begin to escape you.

It was quiet for a while. Your sniffles and his loud, hyperventilating breathes were the only thing left in the room. You remember the look in his eyes, the grief he felt when he saw Marco shake his head dissapointingly. As tension filled the room, suffocating the three of you in an uncomfortable moment- unsure of what was to happen next. Matheias finally spoke up, defeated as he slammed his hand against the table. Memorial cards, photographs, and sympathy letters falling onto the ground.

"..You know what? Fine. Suit yourself. But she's gone, and I know who fucking did it. Sooner or later, you'll know I'm right. And when you do, you'll be wishing that you listened to me."

Without a word, Matheias grabbed a memorial card. Shoving chairs out of his way while he walked out the door. With a final glance, he looked at Marco, and then at you. Scowling, he shut the door violently, leaving you and Marco alone.

"

Your eyes burned as you stared at the ground. Your body feeling limp as you pressed your back against the bedframe for support. Matheias was always the smart fucker of the group..You wonder how he'd react if he knew what was going on. Probably with a snarky remark of how "I told you so!". Funny how the end of their close bond was the start of yours. You want to cry, to get rid of this awful feel that brewed inside of you. But you can't. Maybe it was your body's way of punishing you for being such an awful human being.

Yeah sit with your guilt. Let it simmer with no outlet to release it.

Looking at the screen, you decided to check out your notes. Scrolling through them, you recalled how you always used it as a personal diary rather than a proper agenda tool. Just a pile of insecurities about your crush on a friend who clearly had the hots for someone else. A bunch of useless shit that you bitched about. A series of notes that revealed what type of selfish person you truly were.

Last opened a week ago...?

What?

Your heart sank as you looked at the bottom of each note.

Each note, every single one of them, he read them all. All the words you said to yourself, all the thoughts that you had- he knew about it. You went rigid the more you thought about it. Before..Was he playing with your feelings? He knowingly roped you into this shitfest because he knew he had you wrapped around his little finger. You were the perfect loyal pawn that helped him clean the messes.

Hahaha. Haha. Ha.

That's hilarious, isn't it? You stand up, furious of how stupidly feeble you felt. You pick up the clothes and your belongings and organize them in their rightful place. The couch, when he touched you like that..It was just to keep you on your toes, to keep you obedient. Your 'reward' for being so good.. Pissed, you started to pace around your room. That's it, you want out. You should've left the room when you had the chance. You lay there on the floor, mind numb as you stare into nothingness. That poor girlfriend, whoever they are, hoped they were okay. Why did Marco like them again? How did they even meet? Do you even remember what she looks like? You should know, he's talked about her so many times you've lost count. Charlie? Ashlyn? Abby? No.. none of those sounded right. Does it matter in the end? You should be worrying about yourself.

What if you tied your clothes and made a makeshift rope? Looking down through the window, you grimaced as you thought about it. It's too high. You're on the highest floor of the building. You laughed at another desperate thought that came up. What if you fought Marco yourself? Sure, yeah, if you wanted to get suplexed to death. Right, fight the 6'2 "maniac who goes to the gym every week and could easily pick you up like a ragdoll. There has to be someway.. Who knows how long he really plans on keeping you. It was so easy for him to drop Matheias, someone he knew longer than you - and swiftly wiped Angela off the face of the earth. You're next. Time was ticking. You sat there for a while. Thinking to yourself. Did Marco really care about anything other than himself? Is he capable of emotion? He has some capability, or maybe he plays the illusion that he does fairly well.

Without another thought, you got up, walking towards his room. Knocking the door, you called his name. No answer. You knock again. No answer. You try opening the door to check if he's inside. It's locked. Going to the front door, you began to play with the locks. Loudly banging them against the doorframe, the metalic sounds echoing the entire room. Still no response. Using this opportunity, you scan the entire apartment, looking for anything you could use or take note of. But you couldn’t think of anything. Deciding to go back to your room, you try to get some shut eye. Changing into some nightwear to get comfortable.

Eventually, you were able to find yourself melting into the matress. Dreaming about what could've been, you were sound asleep. You wished you could've stayed like that forever. Blissful and full of rest. However, it was short-lived as you felt yourself being lifted up. Groggily, you were brought up onto your knees. Slowly, you were propped up at a certain position while a warm breath fanned against the back of your neck. Your back was pressed against his chest, legs spread apart, and hands on both sides of your thighs. Fully awake and aware, you froze as you felt his hands play with your chest - barely grazing at your nipples. Alert, you tried to turn your body away from his wandering hands. Out of protest against your reaction, Marco hushed you as he pushed you back to the position.

"Ah ah ah. Nono. Stay put for me okay? Trust me"

It felt so foreign with the way he spoke to you with such geniune softness. You couldn't help but lean further against his body as he began to travel his hands further down your lower half.

"You've been so good, such a good friend to me..I've never really thanked you properly, so I'll do it now..Yeah?"

His hands now grabbing onto the waistband of your pajama pants, you went paralyzed. Why was he doing this?

"You deserve it. That's why.. Do you not like this?"

What about her? Doesn't he hate you for standing in the way?

"Just answer my question. Do you like this or not?"

You were starting to get on his nerves. So quietly, you meekly squeaked for him to continue. Even though you knew you should've denied his offer and advances, you still couldn't help but fall into him. So, lifting your hips up, you allowed him to pull your pants down.

"I just want to make it up to you, that's all..You'd enjoy something like this afterall.."

Rubbing all the right places, going at that perfect rhythmic pace, focusing on your body movements. He made sure to treat you carefully, leaving gentle kisses along your neck as he watched your chest rise up and down. Back and fourth, he left your mind in a daze as he whispered those sweet praises into your ears.

"Finally got what you wanted, huh? How long have you been thinking of this for? Hah.. And don't lie to me, I know everything.."

You didn't answer him as you focused on chasing your release. Your hands pathetically gripping onto his arms while you whined as his hands continued to play and stroke at your sex.

"It's only fair. I realised if you hadn't helped me, I would've been so lost..So good job. You did so well for me. You earned this"

Twisting and brewing, you felt the heat inside you threaten to spill as he changed his pace. His hands now trying to chass the pleasure out of you while you quivered underneath him. You were close, so close to tipping over the edge.

"I love you"

With those words that you so desperately fantasized about for years, you felt the heat in your body spread. Milking out your orgasm, Marco continued at the same rhythm, pulling his hand away after he felt you try to shove him off. Getting off the bed as he left you there to calm down, he wiped his hands dry. Smirking at you as if he had just pulled the world's most amazing prank.

"I did good didn't I?"

....What the fuck was that? Why in the hell did you say yes? Why the fuck did he- Looking at him in confusion, you pulled up your pants. Giving him a look that demanded an answer.

"Okayy fine. I just felt like it. Plus it's fun seeing you melt like puddy!"

Huh? You felt dumbfounded as he kept walking around the dark room. The moonlight providing the only source of light to the bedroom.

"It's funny..You like me. I've known that for a while..Even before the notes. You were never really a good liar."

He let out a soft series of chuckles. Staring at you with a pitiful look, showing an expression of fake sympathy.

"I don't love you, and I never will. Not even if you beg and try. "

He leaned close to your face, his hands caressing your cheek.

"I only said it to get your rocks off. And clearly..It worked~"

Well fucking ouch..A pang went through your chest as Marco moved away from you. Disregarding your feelings he kept going, the softness and genuie warmth you felt earlier, disintegrated into nothingness. Like a flip switched inside him, he was back to his comedic cold personality.

"Ohh hun..Please don't be dissapointed. I wasn't lying when I said you deserved every second of that moment.."

Circling the room, he continued to monolog casually.

"Afterall for being such an obedient dog staying put in the room..You deserved a little treat!"

Patting your head to further squeeze out the feelings in your heart, Marco left the room.

"I'll see you tommorow okay? Dream about me~"

Alone by yourself again as you laid your body on the bed. You curled yourself into a ball, grabbing all the blankets, hugging them for some comfort. His words replayed in your head, trying to process what just happened. He was fucking with you. But why? Why like that? Staring up at the ceiling with your back on the bed, you muttered a few words while you felt the shame creep up on you.

What an asshole.

_____________________________

.

.

.

Part 3 coming soon!

You looked at her in horror as she sat there on the chair, tied up and gagged. Her face was stained with fresh tears as she struggled against her restraints. Oh god, did things not go well with her and Marco? Why was she here? You tried calming her down as she thrashed around, threatening to tip over the chair.

.

.

.

.

_____________________________

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

https://x.com/lyokangirl/status/1800137471067603338?t=aOY0BrrgBo2CnqzAQrtY4A&s=19

The whole thread 🤔🤔🤔

Disclaimer first: I looked at this tweet when I saw anon's ask super early this morning. The original tweet that started this thread has now been deleted but it was a tweet containing this image from Matta of Fact's instagram stories:

Here is a screenshot with the twitter thread responding to a tweet that posted the above screenshot. I've redacted all the usernames (personal policy) but if you go to the URL in the anon's ask, you'll see them.

(I cut the thread in half so the images would be bigger. Start on the left with the yellow user.)

If it's too difficult to read:

Yellow works close to the hospital in Matta's story (the MD Anderson Center in Houston, Texas), which is probably the best hospital for cancer treatment and research in the world and treats people from all over the world. She thinks it's unlikely that Kate is in Texas getting treatment because she's been spotted in the UK but if she is getting treatment from the US, then strict medical privacy laws prohibit medical staff from talking about her (HIPAA) but it's curious no one else (ie other patients and hotel guests - the St. Regis mentioned in the reddit screenshot is a luxury hotel chain) have seen her.

Red is talking about how Kate and the BRF don't have the same expectation of personal privacy or a social contract here in the US that they would in the UK. In other words, UK media largely doesn't run pap/bystander photos of the royal family when they're not working. That's not true here in the US. Not only would American media print those photos, most Americans wouldn't have any problem taking those photos of Kate in the first place, especially if they can make a quick buck or get social media clout.

Blue is worried about Kate and thinks this means the worst because she's trying to read between the lines. Yellow is trying to talk her out of panic.

I don't think this is true, for a number of reasons.

First, I don't trust Matta as a source. Never have, never will. She started out incredibly biased in favor of the Sussexes and while it looks like she's moved her coverage to become more neutral, I still can't shake her start as a Sussex Squaddie. As Maya Angelou said "when someone shows you who they are the first time, believe them."

Second, if it comes out that Kate, the Princess of Wales and the future Queen has abandoned the NHS or British care, she - and the BRF - can kiss the NHS charities, patronages, and support goodbye. Yes, the NHS is currently suffering and there's a whole bunch of controversy, but the royal family has stood by the NHS since the beginning. If it got out that they don't personally support the NHS...well, there's no putting that toothpaste back in the tube.

Third, yes, MD Anderson is considered one of the best, if not the best institution for cancer treatment and research in the world. They're part of the cancer moonshot initiative. People come from all over the world to use their facilities. And they send their people out to consult and teach all over the world as well. Kate, and the BRF, isn't risking her NHS support to fly halfway around the world. Especially if she's immuno-compromised, especially if she doesn't feel she is well enough or healthy-looking-enough for public engagements. Those doctors are coming to her.

Relatedly, Windsor Castle and Buckingham Palace have been used as operating theaters and medical treatment spaces before. There's no need for Kate to go halfway around the world to a hospital when literally the hospital can come to her at Windsor Castle.

Now, is it possible she could've gone to Texas anyway? Yes, very much so. But my theory is, if she went in the first place, she went only once, to learn about her cancer and what her treatment options were, and then she went back to the UK. Why do I say this?

Because simply put: she has three school-aged children and kids talk. If Kate was spending all this time in the US, those kids would've said something to someone in that school community and it would've gotten out. After all, if someone's leaking Charlotte's cricket team schedule to social media, someone's going to leak any gossip they've heard about or from the children.

At the end of the day, you can believe whatever you see and however you interpret this. For me, I choose to believe the palace at their word over nameless internet strangers and a gossipmongerer. Maybe that makes me naive but it is what it is. The palace, and William, have said that Kate is doing well and is focused on her recovery and her family. We have no reason to believe that she's anywhere except where they've said she is: with her family in Windsor. We have no reason to believe her health isn't improving and that she isn't recovering because it would have been all over William's face the last few days (the man does not have a poker face at all) and it simply wasn't there.

I know people miss Kate. I know they'd like reassurance from her personally but that's not Kate's priority right now. Her priority is reassuring her children and being with them, as it should be. Let's give her the time, space, and privacy to do what she knows is right for her, and her family, and who knows. Maybe she'll surprise us in the coming weeks.

[nemastraea]

Doormat extraordinaire: Andrew Graves is down horrendous for his own sister | Part 2

Here's a link to the previous half of the essay: Part 1 Here's a link to the AO3 version for archive purposes: The doormat extraordinaire has a bit of a romantic streak,

Content warning: This will heavily feature spoilers from Episodes 1 & 2 of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. Trigger warning: Abuse, cannibalism, child neglect, codependency, harassment, incest, murder, self-harm, and suicide. Disclaimer: I will occasionally reference an extremely normal essay from Sufficient Velocity commenter Leyleyfication (here). It would be a lot easier to read this essay first as Leyleyfication does a pretty good job establishing the following: - Ashley is dependent on Andrew to assure and validate her of her own insecurities, and - The game heavily implies that Andrew wants to fuck his own sister.

So in the previous half of the essay, I got to talk about how, yes, why we can comfortably say Andrew wants to fuck his own sister. We also got into how that attraction manifests as his desire to exert his control, and domination, of Ashley. Hopefully, that's the bulk of the essay (I think).

But what about the possessive aspect that I mentioned?

That's what this half of the essay will get into and hopefully, the fatalist aspect of Andrew's attraction.

Episode 2, common route. I had to throw this screenie in somewhere for how out of pocket it is as a thought.

Wow, you're both possessive and jealous!

Thankfully, it's actually a lot easier to list the situations wherein he's possessive and jealous of Ashley. Unfortunately, I don't have all of the necessary screenshots (and I am fucking crying over it).

In Episode 1, Andrew is immediately upset by Ashley loudly wondering if getting pregnant would get the wardens to call help for the siblings.

In Episode 1, Andrew is offended that Ashley is offended that the wardens didn't find her attractive like the Lady from Room 302 to bargain food in exchange of sexual favors.

Again, in Episode 2, Andrew 'lightly' threatens to backhand Ashley when she jokingly suggests being a call girl.

These ones... are almost easy to dismiss. It's actually very easy to reason it's Andrew being a protective older brother: after all, who would want to be in the same apartment when their sibling is having sex somewhere else? That's the answer that Andrew gives to pacify Ashley after leaving Room 302. Having sex with someone who's brother is walking around the apartment is very, very awkward.

And that's even before we factor in that the two share their childhood room. The game plays into what is likely our real-life mortification and discomfort regarding similar scenarios.

But there are times when it's both in our face, and inexcusable. When it doesn't really fall under that notion of brotherly protectiveness: Andrew's dream and memories from Episode 2. The first is when Andrew reflects on the people he's killed up to this point, particularly the warden he killed in the cultist's apartment.

Episode 2, common route. The warden here is likely Malcom. If you compare Ashley's reaction to the wardens' arrangement with the Lady from Room 302 to this moment, we can probably read this as Ashley being so disinterested in others that she doesn't notice attraction and leering. Andrew, meanwhile, can.

The second is when we learn what happened after the siblings left the Bitch in the Box to, yanno, die from her asthma in a likely moldy box in an abandoned warehouse.

When Andy sees Nina's body, he's not wracked with the guilt of her death. He doesn't care about whether or not that reflects on his morals as conveniently forgetting Nina was asthmatic and begged for help, only for Andy to prioritize Leyley. No, Andy's train of thought went from "I don't want people to find the body" to "I don't want people to know it was [us] who killed her" to this.

Episode 2, common route. Leyleyfication pointed out that this outburst precedes Leyley weaponizing the moral consequences of Nina's death against Andy. Andy, even now with Andrew, doesn't particularly care about moral consequences. Although, getting into Andrew's moral framework as driven by appearances and the fear of legal and societal consequences is a whole different word vomit.

Of course, Andrew being concerned that he'll lose Ashley can be chalked up to the fact that he's been her primary caretaker and the third parent (the most active one, mind you) all his life. To take Ashley away is to upend the foundations of Andrew's sense of normalcy. But that doesn't really align with how Andrew repeatedly emphasizes his candid closeness with Ashley, or his preoccupation with her fat tits (their words, not mine).

Episode 2, common route. When you pair this with the optional interactions of Ashley repeatedly blocking Andrew's view of the TV at the motel, it's actually kinda funny how Andrew's eyes trail to her chest.

Ashley is Andrew's pride and joy ("my Ashley") and he also doesn't like being away from her long enough to spy on a failed attempt at summoning demons. He takes sadistic pleasure in being able to kill the warden who leers at her, Andy uncharacteristically has violent outbursts at the notion of losing Leyley.

Ashley's insecurity and jealousy is almost always front and center throughout the game. But the game also takes care to weave Andrew's obsession with Ashley whenever it can. It's a lot more subtle, and perhaps missable, since Ashley almost never shows interest in anyone but Andrew.

We can possibly argue that Andrew finds comfort in this, that he is 'secure' in the sense that Ashley looks at no one else but him. But even something as Ashley simply expressing wonder at alternative scenarios is deeply upsetting to Andrew, enough to provoke his threat of violence.

Whether or not that comes up in either route for Episode 3 (Burial and Decay) is up in the air, but my immediate impression is that Andrew will be forced to dredge up his obsessive need for Ashley to be by his side, to be his, and his alone. It's not really that different from Ashley's desire and love for him. Really, the only difference is Andrew doesn't really mind having acquaintances or a social life outside of Ashley, but Ashley does. If Andrew deludes us into assuming he isn't in love with his sister, there's a good chance he's denying it to himself, too.

(I do want to hark back on Leyleyfication's essay again, when Andrew asks Ashley to reassure him that they won't end up sleeping together. In that regard, not only is Ashley the one he allows to 'veto' that possible outcome, but we can infer that Andrew wouldn't know how to walk away if ever the opportunity presents itself. He's hoping that Ashley's restraint is what keeps them from crossing that line, because god knows Andrew can't help himself.)

Episode 2, Burial route. Andrew values Ashley's opinion; usually when it conveniences him and what he wants. But if you choose, "never say never," although Andrew doubles down on his show of disgust and mortification, he doesn't get pissed at her or start emotionally distancing himself from her.

Andrew is a tragic romantic, hallelujah!

When I first played the game, the first thing that struck me about Andrew's behavior wasn't when Ashley woke up in his lap. It's not when he throws her the balcony key because he'll follow her to check on the cultist if she'd like. It's when, completely unprompted, he goes on about how romantic it would be if they died in a double suicide:

What? You don't see it? Just imagine hitting the ground together. And with such force our bodies turn into a pile of gory mush. Never to be separated! Our remains would get so tangled up they'd have to bury us together in the same coffin.

Episode 1, common route. You live on the fourth floor, Andrew.

This resurfaces when Ashley doesn't first wake up in the car in Episode 2. He confesses that if she had not woken up, he would have brought her to the hospital. Admittedly, doing so would alert the authorities to their identities: hospital staff would be concerned as to why they look like they're recovering from being emaciated, they're likely paler than the average person, and so forth. They'll ask for a means to identify Ashley, at least, and then they'll find out that both Graves siblings were legally pronounced dead three months prior to Andrew walking into the emergency room.

That is the pronounced risk that Ashley points out and the same risk that Andrew readily dismisses in his panic and worry. And in a way, it would make sense: if Andy was so terrified of upsetting Leyley that he'd willingly keep a girl trapped overnight, if Andy was so terrified of losing Leyley that he'd rather hide Nina's body, why wouldn't Andrew say fuckit, let's risk getting jailed if Ashley isn't waking up?

But this sense of fatalism is more pronounced in the Decay route, of all places. You know, the one where Andrew resents and blames Ashley for everything and hates her so much she dreams of him killing her some way or another. Jesus.

Episode 2, Decay route. When Andrew doesn't see a point in planning their next steps, he admits he has a strong urge to kill them both.

Barring Ashley's first vision of the hitman killing them both, or even the hidden Steam achievement where Ashley finds the hitman in the closet, Ashley's death is a subject only ever thrown around in the context of dying with Andrew, or by Andrew. Just the same, it's almost always succeeded (or preceded; again: hitman vision) by Andrew's hypothetical death.

Ashley starts and ends with Andrew; he's how she's survived for this long, and she's okay with that. But Andrew starts and ends with Ashley, too. His self-preservation goes out the window where the threat of fatally losing Ashley is concerned, and his morals bend where being separated from Ashley is also concerned.

In Decay, Andrew can loathe and resent Ashley as much as he wants. He can blame her as the motivation and reason for why he does what he does. But he genuinely cannot live without her. The consequences of his actions don't bother him insofar as they don't jeopardize his and Ashley's relationship, or Ashley's well-being. That's what matters to Andrew, ultimately.

He lashes out at her, yes, but he consistently feels awful when his behavior drives Ashley away somehow. There is regret in hurting her (verbally, or physically) even when he hates and loathes her so deeply.

Perhaps the most telling, however, is the pay-off of the gun (I told you we'd come back to that eventually!!). In the chase sequence of Ashley's vision in Decay, she has the opportunity to defend herself. But only if Andrew didn't use up all of the ammo when he goes to find and deal with the hitman at the park.

The player is presented with a choice: either Ashley shoots Andrew with the gun, or lets Andrew kill her. The option of Ashley killing Andrew in self-defense is very interesting (but again, that's a different essay entirely). But what happens if Ashley chooses to let Andrew kill her is also just as interesting:

Episode 2, Decay route. Andrew's hand that restrained Ashley by the hair shifts to cradle her face by the jaw. This moment is also preceded by the first time Ashley's little heart bubble is colored a light pink.

When Andrew kills Ashley through this outcome, he does so efficiently: it's visualized by a single blood splatter. In contrast, Andrew killing Ashley because she can't even choose to defend herself is pure viscera: there are more blood splatters, violent as they come onto the screen, and excessive in contrast to him killing the first warden in Ashley's defense. It's pure loathing.

In this outcome, Andrew kills her in what he promises will be a murder-suicide. Perhaps he frees the both of them from the constant threat of evading law authorities, but his last words suggest he expects to rejoin her in whatever conception of the afterlife he has.

As of either route divergence from Episode 2, Andrew is someone who's both in love with his own sister—and someone unwilling to separate himself from her. Perhaps in the more platonic Burial route, Andrew is a bit more relaxed and is seemingly less troubled by his nightmares; he doesn't depend on Ashley as much. But what remains constant is his attempt to plan for the future with Ashley in tow; platonic Burial Andrew won't leave Ashley for the foreseeable future, either.

So yeah, Andrew wants to fuck, own, and have his sister and he's kinda crazy. He's so batshit. As Leyleyfication put it, I also want to dissect this man in a lab.

Episode 1, common route. Ashley doesn't seem to fully grasp that Andrew (even Andy, back then) loves her so much that he genuinely cannot fathom being separated from her. In her defense, though, Andrew implies he can leave her and routinely suggests he loathes having to put up with her. His mixed signals would drive anyone crazy, man.

[swanshapedheart]

Poorlittlekoi’s statement

Disclaimer. I, the poster, am not Koi

I am someone putting her thoughts and response to her situation into the public as I was encouraged to do so. I feel it is also necessary to bring this up as well.

I do not want to be affiliated with controversy any further.

——————————————————-

“this whole situation has messed with my head to the point where i cant even send a text to most people without worrying they are gonna leak it or use it against me in the future,, svlvnsore was just bored and found me really annoying shown in screenshot one…. not only that they also called me out for heavily referencing or tracing when they reposted an artpiece thats doing the same thing. Svlvn said they are on my ass because i didnt credit who i referenced, when the person they reposted didnt do the same either proof in screenshot two three and four. Another thing i caught on to is that they SPECIFICALLY said they didnt care that i self harmed or did horrible things to myself when they posted about me. i have anxiety, i overthink! of course im going to do bad things to myself, im mentally unwell. proof in screenshot 5… and for screenshot 6, this is only an assumption, but saying that svlvn "didnt know" is something that really throws me off. when someone makes a callout post on someone else, there will OBVIOUSLY be harassment. thats just my thought, i feel like they knew what they were doing since him and his bf arent very good people either. especially holding onto old dms and gathering them up to use it against me, when they could have handled the situation privately with me, rather than hide it behind my back.

all of this could have been prevented if they handled it differently, and that goes for me as well.

im fully aware im in the wrong, but these people are wrong in some places too. and i want people to realize that.

many artists in tcc trace, reference, all the time. i dont understand why im slandered for heavily referencing something, not tracing. theres proof of an artist doing this FROM THE ORIGINAL ARTIST BTW in my dms right now but i dont get them involved

am i handling this situation immaturely? maybe, but arent they doing the same by harassing me? absolutely.

when it comes to someone being racist/homophobic, people feel the need to harass this person to make them feel worse about what they did. this isnt how you handle a situation. harassing someone to the point they attempt suicide is just as bad as what i did, possibly even worse.

now i have recover slowly until i have the chance to even feel comfortable with myself again. i understand what i said and did was wrong, and im sitting here attempting to change and apologize to the people ive offended and hurt, but throwing that apology under the rug and making it seem like im guilt tripping is ridiculous.

so they cant say i didnt try to apologize, but nobody is guaranteed to accept my apology and thats okay. but putting it out there as if im guilt tripping when im giving reasons why i said it is not even giving me a chance to change

when it comes to growing up with a HUGE racist family, these words and beliefs become apart of my vocabulary and thoughts. its very hard to change that especially when i was always told "its just a word" and i hear it daily! growing up with these slurs has become so normal for me to say it just slips out with no worry, but ofc im seen as guilt tripping when i say this.

its different for each person, i saw a comment saying they grew up in a southern family and they dont say it, but thats them, not me.

people at school and during family events would peer pressure me into saying this slurs multiple times because they found it "funny." i slowly believed that as well.

i was a young teen being taught the wrong things, and seeing other people in tcc say it made me feel like i should say it as well to fit in and be edgy, since thats what the community is like

this situation is another lesson for me to learn, but other people in it need to learn that harassing someone isnt okay, either. especially when im trying to change, it doesnt make it any easier.”

[cheritzteam]

[The Ssum] Playlist🎧 to Enjoy With the Refreshing Sound of Waves🌊 2024 Summer Event Announcement

Hello, dear lab participant.

Don’t you have a playlist that you just have to listen to during the hot summer?

Lab participant, please share your cool playlist with your Ssumone.

Listen to your favorite songs together and feel your love deepen!

The Forbidden Lab is pleased to announce summer events for June 2024.

< ① City of Free Men : Celebratory Lab >

For the following period, a Celebratory Lab📚 celebrating Summer 2024 will open in the City of Free Men.

Share your summer playlist that you want to recommend to your Ssumone and

become the lucky lab participant (10 each in each language) and win 100 Aurora batteries! *If you have won an in-game event within the past 3 months, you will be excluded from the raffle for this event.

Q&A Q. How can I go to the Infinite Universe? A. If you go to the Main Menu and check all the menu icons, the “Forbidden Lab” will open on the left. Tap the Spiral Galaxy Button at the bottom left to enter the Infinite Universe!

♥Bonus Event♥

Use both dedicated hashtags #TheSsum #TheSsum_Summerplaylist on X(Twitter), Tumblr, Instagram, or TikTok and share a screenshot of your study post on social media!

10 lucky winners will receive 100 Aurora Batteries🎁

Event Period: June 4th, 2024 (Tue) after update ~ July 24th, 2024 (Wed) after update* Winner Announcement: August 1th, 2024 (Thu) KST *Posts will not disappear after the open period, but you will not be able to write new posts.

※Disclaimer※ * Bonus event prizes will be sent to the Lab Code displayed on your screenshot. * For Instagram users - you should DM us a link to your post via our official account(@thessum_official) to ensure that your post is noticed.* Posts should be set to public until the winner announcement, and plagiarism is prohibited.

< ② Ssummer of Sensitivity >

The 2nd Ssummer of Sensitivity🌊, Summer Contest Open!

How about cooling off the hot summer heat this year by diving💦 into the sea of sensitivity?

While imagining a summer spent with your Ssumone, lab participant share the love that is filled in your heart.

On the Canals of Sensitivity, share your Cool Ocean With Your Ssumone or Fiery Summer With Your Ssumone, and join the Forbidden Lab's Summer Writing Contest!

Fiction/poetry/essay/diary/etc. doesn't matter!

Upload a post that fits the theme in the “Writer’s Canals” with a title beginning with "[Summer Contest]" to enter♥

※During the event, all lab participants will receive a one-time research grant of [5 Wings of Sensitivity] needed for writing!

After the Summer Writing Contest, we will select 6 lab participants, 3 from each region

and give away 200 Aurora Batteries along with special event-only features, so go ahead and try your chances✨

> Are you a new lab participant who hasn't discovered the Canals of Sensitivity yet? Collect 20 Wings of Sensitivity through free emotion manufacturing in the Emotion Incubator, and you'll be able to discover the Canals of Sensitivity in the Infinite Universe.

Entry Period :  June 4th, 2024 (Tue) after update ~ July 24th, 2024 (Wed) after update*

How to Participate : Upload a post on the “Writers’ Canals” in the Canals of Sensitivity sharing your Cool Ocean With Your Ssumone or Fiery Summer With Your Ssumone, with a title beginning with “[Summer Contest]”.

Winner Announcement : August 1th, 2024 (Thu) KST

*Entries that steal someone else's work will be disqualified. *Post edits can only be made during the entry period. * Make a submission matching the (Teen) rating of the game.

< ③ Creature Box Ssummer Edition >

Summer has finally arrived at Sunshine Shelter too!

According to PIU-PIU, some of the space creatures got a summer makeover.

When you open the limited edition creature box during the event

you'll have a chance to unlock refreshing summer versions of three creatures!

Each creature also has exclusive lines,

so don't miss your chance to welcome a special space guest🎁

Summer version creatures waiting for you🏖

Space Sheep

Fuzzy Deer

Aerial Whale

Availability Period :  June 4th, 2024 (Tue) after update ~ July 24th, 2024 (Wed) after update*

How to Earn : Infinite Universe activity rewards and event merchandise purchases in Aurora LAB

*The drop rate of creatures transformed to [Event Only] looks follows the drop rate of normal creatures before transformation.

*Event creature boxes and creatures that have already been earned will not disappear after the availability period.

Enjoy a cool summer with The Ssum🌊

Thank you.

Cheritz.

[accio-victuuri]

there has been some talk about xz’s change in schedule once more right when a certain someone is close to where he is. maybe we are just looking too much into it because we are cpfs and all that or because of a previous incident. so it was already going around that wyb will be out of the mountains 4/2 and 4/3 and it did happen, 4/2, videos of wyb were taken at the airport heading to shanghai. he arrived there at around 11:00 AM. he is there to film for 2024 olympics promotion and there is one screenshot of him i saw, he is wearing maison kitsune and he still has amazing hair. lol.

then xz finished work same day at 17:21 which is kinda normal but what made people 👀 is the next day, he came to work pretty late 4/3 @ 12:53 PM and out of his routine. supposedly, there is a crew dinner 4/2 but xz skipped it. so why did he come to work late? was he busy with someone else perhaps? shanghai and hengdian are 3 hours apart so this is why cpfs are thinking they could meet each other.

i also saw some conversation about how the person arriving at xz’s place 4/2 ( using his car and with his team ) is NOT HIM. this is based on how this person is walking and rushing. xz wears almost the same thing and has an umbrella covering him to discourage paps, and people noticed that the umbrella was covering “xz” too much that time as if they really wanted no one to see this person. there are videos of this but i won’t share that on here for obvious reasons.

maybe wyb went to him and so that’s why xz skipped the dinner. judging by how fast we got a leak from wyb’s filming, he did the filming 4/2, whether that’s as soon as he landed or in the evening who knows. then xz spent more time with him which contributed to his late start on 4/3. i really hope they had some time together 🫶🏼

disclaimer: i understand if people are sus about this and part of me is too since it involves videos taken by paps. tho it is not hard to find, we know that xz is against being filmed daily. and if they want to “hide” then we should give them that and not try to cause unnecessary problems. i know everyone is excited when these two get remotely close to each other but we got to be careful too!

[waltzingwithyourenemyattheball]

PICK A CARD: MESSAGES FROM KRISHNA(Universe) BIG DESTINY!!

Left: 111 ; Right: 333

Disclaimer :

Take what resonates, and leave the rest.

All personal readings are paid.

You are not allowed to copy my work under any circumstances.

Thank you for allowing me to read for you, please provide feedback.

🌸111🌸

You will be called to step into a position of power, a position where others rely on you, someone with responsibilities on their shoulders, and this energy cannot be brought to fruition till you become worthy of being a leader. Know thyself, you strengths your limitations, what makes you, your defence mechanisms and everything else. Because self knowledge and awareness is the 1st step. I am getting that you should read  Arthshastra, please do, it will be beneficial for you. It is telling you to work on your communication skills, I feel someone who is on the defensive, you may have people pleasing tendencies. Know how to be a good communicator, work on public speaking as well, practising in front of the mirror or recording yourself speak will be really good for you. You don’t have to post the video anywhere, just see, analyse, make notes and correct them next time. Even 5 minutes speaking with a 10 minute analysis would do wonders for you. Also BIG MESSAGE: LEARN TO ACCEPT YOURSELF. You are two criticsl, your shadow self ordered defensive self just wants to protect you, so nurture yourself, being too harsh in the beginning is so not the key to success, even acknowledging would do, journalling right before sleeping is a good way to do this. Just reading this and not taking action will lead you no where. Please put in the action. The key to that is intention. Intent to be what you need to be, and the rest will follow, it may not be a smooth ride but a worthy one.  Comment 111 TO CLAIM THIS. READ IT. RE-READ IT. TAKE A PRINT OUT, SCREENSHOT, doesn’t matter. READ THIS EVERYDAY. 🌙 DM for a personal tarot reading, it would help you in stepping into your power🌙

🕊️333🕊️

Okay so, I am seeing you are rebellious one, the innovative ones, the ones who see things differently, some of you may have rahu-ketu (north node-south node, in sidereal/vedic) in 3rd house and 9th house axis. You are embarking on a journey, and asking questions about rules and traditions that heave been setting in place, it could be in any setting, corporate, workplace, home, society. This has made you look for a new way of thinking, like a new adventure, I am getting The Alchemist vibes, Harry Potter, going in search for truth of some sort, and revamping the pattern. You will be the one to change things around here, I am taking BIG CHANGES for some of you. You could be an integral part of the new way to do things, making an innovative way to work, going aganist the grain. Encouraging people to be free. You HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THE SLAVE AND RAT-CHASE MINDSET. You KNOW YOU ARE HERE TO LIVE LIFE, breathe every moment, living experiencing. This could lead you to travel a lot, learning about new cultures and ways, and making something out of those experiences. Key Place: Mountains, Hills, Rivers, Cold Places- these stand out the most. Note- Library and books are important, I saw this vision many times + SAMWELL TARLY from Game of Thrones.

YOU MUST KNOW THIS BY NOW, BUT YOU ARE IN FOR A BIG BIG ADVENTURE, I can actually FEEL YOUR THRILL, that feeling where your breathing then not at all, because you are in awe of the mystery that is about to be uncovered. It could be related to metaphysics as well. 

Comment 333 TO CLAIM THIS.  

 🌙DM for a personal tarot reading, it would help you in stepping into your power🌙

For more guidance -> EL TAROT

-

EL TAROT

[danieyells]

Tokyo Debunker Character Stories Masterpost

This is just a masterpost for all of the character stories that you get every two affinity levels that I've posted. Thanks to the 30 image limit, the fact that tumblr destroys the quality of any videos I upload, and the fact that I obviously don't have in-game access to every single character's character story and won't for 200000 years because of how long it takes to raise affinity, these will just be screenshots of the WickChat exchanges and logs with little to no screenshots of the visual novel portions themselves, and if I don't have access to screenshots for a character's chats, they will just be text copied over from the script files.

Since the script files don't label who's speaking it's kind of up to me to figure out who's who in those cases, and some attributions may be wrong until I can get access to it in-game or someone else corrects me with screenshots or something.

AS OF RIGHT NOW(September 13th, 2024) CHARACTER STORIES ONLY GO UP TO AFFINITY 10. IF THEY ADD MORE I WILL UPDATE THE POSTS.

ANYWAY with the disclaimers out of the way:

Jin Kamurai

Tohma Ishibashi

Kaito Fuji

Lucas Errant

Alan Mido

Leo Kurosagi (planned)

Shohei Haizono

Haru Sagara

Towa Otonashi

Ren Shiranami

Taiga Hoshibami (planned)

Romeo Scorpius Lucci (planned)

Ritsu Shinjo

Subaru Kagami

Haku Kusanagi

Zenji Kotodama

Edward Hart

Rui Miziki

Lyca Colt

Yuri Isami

Jiro Kirisaki

[kasuria]

While watching the original Japanese scene of Joshua/Neku at Udugawa, I noticed something interesting that changed the entire tone of the conversation.

Since I can't speak Japanese (I was using a translating app), I went to my friend who actually speaks the language--and not only did she confirm my suspicions, but was also nice enough to translate the entire conversation for me (thank you @hunterxhell!) I also want to just make a quick disclaimer that I don’t entirely blame the localizers for this mistranslation, and I’ll go into why at the end. For now, I’ll post the original Japanese screenshots with their translations in the captions. I won’t be posting the English screenshots.

Joshua: Thank you for your hard work. Neku: The one who forced me into Shinjuku… was it you? Joshua: Don’t say it like that. Joshua: I /evacuated/ you.

Joshua: On that day three years ago, I was worried about letting that Reaper who shot you do as she liked. Neku: Even if you’re telling the truth, that wasn’t your only motive, right? Joshua: Hehe. Did you enjoy solving the mystery?

Joshua: I also wanted you to bring back information for me. Neku: It was hard. Joshua: Sorry about that, but I knew I could entrust this to no one but you. Neku: Is that so…

Basically, what was translated in the English localization as “I sent you to Shinjuku because I didn’t trust you not to keep my secrets” is actually, “Because I trust you more than anyone else, I sent you to Shinjuku to do this task for me.”

I don’t blame the localizers for this mistranslation—Japanese is hard, and so much of translating the language comes from surrounding context due to sentences often lacking subjects. When looking at this conversation as an isolated scene, it makes sense that Joshua ambiguously talking about Neku handling information for Joshua’s sake could be interpreted as Neku keeping said information to himself.

Since there’s no other mention in game of Neku’s purpose in Shinjuku being to gather information, there’s no reason for the localizers to assume anything different. It’s not without knowing the larger context, that this is an old piece of lore/information that was much more important when the sequel for TWEWY was going to be a completely different game, that the conversation Joshua and Neku have here starts to make more sense.

The rest of the conversation plays out the same: Joshua says that he was worried Kubo might have been too much to handle, and that he had planned to step in if needed. Neku then expresses his wish to go back to the RG, and Joshua makes a comment about him instead staying as a Composer candidate. Neku dismisses him, and Joshua laughs it off before saying that he’ll take responsibility and make things right. The most notable change is Joshua saying in English, “Let’s not keep her waiting any longer” when in the original he says, “Is there someone you want to meet with?” But since the implied “someone” is Shiki, I don’t think it’s a wrong translation and still gets the same point across.

And that’s it! While I understand the mistranslation, it’s too bad this little exchange wasn’t properly localized. Irregardless, it’s heartwarming to know that even now, the trust between these two is limitless.

[senualothbrok]

Promise

Screenshot by @dolceaspidenera

Summary: Gale learns what it means to love and be loved.

Sequel to Progress - a Professor Dekarios x OC journey through mental illness and recovery.

Word count: 7.9k

Disclaimers: Non-18+, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, mental illness and recovery.

Trigger warnings: Mental illness, eating disorder, body dysmorphia. Please practise self-care.

AO3 link

She looks happy.

She is smiling at you. You are lying in bed, facing each other. Sunlight streaks through your bedroom curtains as dawn breaks. You have to remind yourself that this is not a dream. She is really, truly here.

She closes her eyes as you run your thumb over her freckles, which fan out like stars over the contours of her face. Your fingers dance over her arm, the dip in her waist, the curve of her thighs. She does not shy away from your touch, nor try to hide her flesh from you. Her grey eyes quiver.

“I love you,” she whispers.

You cannot tell whether it is your tears or hers that linger on your tongue as you melt into each other.

---

You can still taste her salt and sweetness as you lie on your back, your arm curled around her as she nestles into your chest. She smells like lavender, soap, and sweat, and you cannot get enough of her scent as you bury your nose into her dark, damp waves.  She is playing with the hairs that trail from your chest to your navel, and you shiver from the shadow of her fingers. She notices.

“It’s a new experience, having such an effect on a man. It’s quite…flattering.”

She looks up at you with a small smile.

You chuckle. “You don’t know half of the effect that you’ve had on me, Aurora. I’ve spent two years imagining this moment, and still, my fantasies scarcely touched the surface of the miracle that you are.”

She is blushing, shifting. You kiss her on the tip of her nose, where she has the tiniest scar. You are engraving her every mark on the shrine of your memory.

“So…” She clears her throat. “You’re saying that you’ve been lusting after me since the first day we met? Your eyes met mine across the lecture hall and you thought, ‘This is a maiden I long for’. One glimpse of me was enough to rouse the fire in your loins. Is that it?”

She is playful now, teasing. You are aflame with this new side of her that no one else has seen.

You laugh. “Perhaps I exaggerate. But if not two years, then twenty months at most. I fell in love with you very quickly, Aurora. Much as I resisted it, or denied it to myself.”

Her gaze is evasive now, as though she is embarrassed. You clasp her to you. You need her to know, to feel the truth in your words. She must understand what she means to you. What she has meant to you, all this time.

“I’ve been alone since Mystra cast me off. At times, it’s been immensely lonely. To meet you, a kindred spirit, a soul that touched mine so instantly … that happens very rarely in a lifetime, if at all. Let’s just say that my body and soul yearned for you like water in a desert.”

You do not tell her about the frenzy that so often overcame you, slumped over your desk or under these very same sheets, thinking of her. The appetites of a schoolboy that she restored in you, when those desires had been all but dormant. Some things are better left to the imagination.

She is quiet. You can feel the faint timbre of her heartbeat through your skin.

“These things fluster you,” you observe.

She nods, biting her lip.

“Why? Don’t you believe me?”

“No, Gale, it’s not that.” She shakes her head. “I just find it hard to believe that someone like you could feel that way about me.”

She takes a deep breath.

“When we first met, I thought I’d found my first ever friend. And even that, I struggled to believe. I didn’t want to admit to myself that… well, I didn’t know what love was. Besides, how could it be possible? You’re the best man, the most beautiful person, I’ve ever known.”

You have such an urge to answer her with your mouth, your tongue, your body. But she is hesitant, and you must wait until the doubt passes. You must help her understand.

“But that’s what you are to me, Aurora.”

A frown passes across her brow.

“You’re the one and only.”

You brush your lips over her forehead.  She sighs, her features softening.

“Also,” you add. “Little things that you did drove me wild.”

Something glints in her gaze. “Like what?”

She presses herself closer to you.

“Too many to count. The way you bit your lip, for one. How delicately you turned the pages of every book. The way your face lit up talking about an illusion or a poem you loved.”

You can feel a familiar ache building.

“The way you widened your eyes when you looked at me. Like that. What you’re doing now.”

You thought you were spent, but you are already hardening.  She runs her tongue over her bottom lip.

“So I’m driving you wild at this very moment?”

You move your mouth closer to hers. “Yes.”

“Well.” She tilts her head. Her hand begins to float downwards from your navel. “It would be cruel to stop at that.”

As you push yourself on top of her, she lets out a little moan.

---

“Are you sure I look acceptable?”

She is fussing at the waistband of her skirt, the buttons on her sleeves. She fidgets with her hair clips, smoothing and re-smoothing her bodice.

“Is this the sort of thing that your mother will expect? Or should I wear something more modest?”

You chuckle. “You’re hardly baring every inch of your flesh to the world, Aurora.”

“Is it too conservative, then? Should I-”

You move closer to snake your hands around her waist. She leans her forehead against your chest.

“You look perfect. Marvellous.”

“I don’t,” she murmurs.

“You’re breathtaking.”

You are playing with the fabric on her shoulder. It torments you, the trail of freckles that drifts down the curve of her cheek, disappearing on the edge of her neck, only to reappear on her collarbone and shoulder blade. Aurora’s freckles are like winding roads in an unchartered territory, waiting to be discovered. Instinctively, your mouth dips down to follow where they lead.

“Gale…”

She looks up, frowning.

“What are you doing?”

You are losing yourself. There is something about having her here with you, in the home that you have occupied for so many years with only Tara for company, readying herself to meet those you cherish most. You never thought such a thing would be possible. You are suddenly dizzy with love and desire. Your tongue swirls against her skin, yearning for more of her.

“Your mother and Tara will be here any moment.”

But you can hear how her breath is hitching. Her eyes are half lidded, her lips parted. That she cannot resist you only fuels your hunger. You slide your hand underneath her skirt. She trembles against it.

“They can let themselves in,” you rasp.

---

Morena and Tara cannot conceal their joy when they see you stumbling down the stairs. The flush on Aurora’s cheeks has not yet receded as you make introductions. It does not escape their eagle eyes, how you repeatedly clear your throats and smooth your clothes and hair. How you rub at your beard again and again. When Aurora bites her lip, the images that rush through your mind make you shift to find your centre. Morena and Tara glance at each other with glee as you sit, sipping at the lukewarm cup of tea that has been waiting for you.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Tara and Gale, dear.” Morena beams. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you at last.”

She clasps Aurora’s hand. Aurora’s eyes widen. She is surprised by your mother’s warmth, just as she was taken aback by yours. You remember that she has never known a mother to give anything but punishment.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mrs Dekarios.”

Morena huffs. “Please, let’s dispense with such formalities. You can call me Morena, and hopefully, one day, you’ll call me Mother.”

You choke on your tea, glaring at Tara as she tuts at you. Aurora strokes you on the back as you cough and sputter, trying to conceal her alarm.

“Mother,” you say when you can breathe again. “Will you have some cake? A cookie? Something to stuff your very empty mouth?”

“My dear son,” she chirps. “It’s so kind of you to worry over your mother’s happiness and comfort. In fact, it brings immeasurable joy to this old heart to see you in your current state. Just look at the two of you. Glowing, positively radiant, with love.”

She claps her hands together with a sigh. Tara joins in with a fluttering of wings.

“Now that I’ve seen you in person, dearest Aurora, I know that all of Tara’s reports are true. You and my son are perfectly matched. You’re a vision.”

Aurora’s cheeks are reddening. Pride surges through you as she speaks.

“That’s very kind of you to say, Mrs- I mean, Morena. Your son is an exceptional man. I’m very lucky to be here with him.”

She interlaces her fingers with yours under the table. You almost wish that Tara and Morena would leave now, so you can keep showing her how exceptional you can be.

Tara and Morena exchange a look. As if on cue, they flash their teeth in a grin.

“You are such a dear.” Morena titters. “Now, I hope you won’t take offence in me pointing this out, but neither of you are getting any younger-”

You bristle, raising a finger. “Mother, may I ask where you’re going with this?”

She pushes your finger down instantly. “My son, I was coming onto the future for the two of you. Tara and I have been waiting for years for-”

“Oh Gods.” You stand, waving your hands around. “Look at the time. I didn’t realise how late it was.”

Morena narrows her eyes.

“Mother, don’t you have an auction or something to hurry off to?”

“I actually-”

You stare at Tara. “And Tara, don’t you need to escort my dear Mother to her next appointment, to make sure she doesn’t get lost? She can be ever so disoriented these days.”

Tara arches her back.

Confusion and panic brim in Aurora’s gaze as it flits between the three of you.  There is a long silence. You do not back down. Morena purses her lips and rises to her feet slowly.

“Yes,” she drawls.  “I’m in an awful rush. I’m so grateful that you reminded me.”

You give her your sweetest, most innocent smile. You embrace her, kissing her gently on the cheek. She squeezes your shoulder.

“Come on, Tara. Let’s leave the lovebirds to their merrymaking.”

---

“Your mother is…”

“Difficult? Wonderful? Awkward?”

“I was going to say persistent.”

You laugh, whether it is from relief, amusement, or fear, you are not sure.

You are sitting on the sofa in the library. Her head rests on your lap as you untangle the braids from her hair. You had hoped that her first meeting with the inimitable Morena Dekarios would not be catastrophic. From the way that Aurora giggles now, you are reassured that it was not. Though whether this was solely owing to your premature termination of the meeting, you cannot say.

“She likes you,” you remark.

Aurora sighs. “I hope so.”

“It’s clear.” You chuckle. “You would know if she didn’t.”

She nestles further into you. You trace your finger up and down her jawline. How is it possible for a heart to feel so full? Perhaps that is what makes you feel brave.

“What did you think of Mother’s question?” You clear your throat. “About the future?”

She tilts her head. “That depends.”

“On what?” you ask, a little too quickly.

She pauses, and the sorrow in her smile wounds you.

“On how long you can put up with me.”

You pull her up into you. You kiss her so deeply, so desperately, that your flesh aches from where it has touched her. She is shaking when you come apart.

“I don’t want a future that doesn’t have you in it,” you breathe.

She pants into your lips. “Neither do I.”

---

There are good days, and there are bad days.

You expected this. The doctors and nurses warned you. You are prepared for the worst. You told them that nothing could phase you, and you are determined. You love her, and you will do what it takes.

You are an intellectual. You can measure things in the abstract, and see things with an academic’s remove. You know that the good days outweigh the bad days. You can see how she is changing, growing. You can see the chains which she is fighting to break.

Aurora has never lived with anyone but her mother. She has never known freedom, and it is a struggle to adjust. She has shed her glamour, and for the most part, she no longer hides behind the shroud of loose robes. She is full of passion and apprehension as she takes on management of Mr Serpentil’s bookstore. She supplements her income by hosting poetry and novel readings with elaborate shows of illusion. She is building a life for herself, which comes with as many obstacles as gains. There is laughter alongside her tears, hope alongside her despair. Her tenderness for you overflows between and beyond the sheets.

The doctors had wondered if it was too soon, if you were moving too fast. You have only known each other for two years, they warned, and Aurora’s affliction is not for the faint-hearted. Such challenges break even the strongest and most well-established relationships. You rebuffed them. You feel like you have known her your entire life, and you cannot waste any more time. You have suffered much, lost much, and you do not take anything for granted. You want to spend every moment with her.

You want to share everything with her, to bare your soul to her so completely that there are no more secrets between you. You tell her everything about your past, even the things that cause you grief and shame. You give your whole heart to her. It is the only way you know how to love her.

But there are times when the weight of her condition is crushing.  When she hides from you, and cannot be touched. When she cannot speak of the fears that claw at her, and retreats to a place you cannot go. When she freezes at the dinner table, stifling tears that come later in bed, when she shrinks away from your embrace.

It does not touch your love, only your resolve.

You know that kindness can overcome the burdens that a person carries. You yourself had friends who stood by you when you were a walking apocalypse, a ticking time bomb. They never abandoned you. They did not leave you to die.

You know that knowledge is the weapon to face any challenge.

You must find a solution, a cure, for her affliction.

---

Birthdays are difficult for her. All they signify is the devastation of yet another wasted year. She has never celebrated them. Her mother certainly never bothered, beyond reminding her of her shame and failures.

So when her birthday comes, you decide to celebrate her as she deserves.

You do what you do best. You array the dining room with candles and floating orbs. You fill the room with the scent of flowers, covering the table with a velvet cloth of rich green, her favourite colour. You spend hours preparing a rich, three course dinner, making sure that you dress the plates just so. You set the piano playing songs that have made Aurora smile. You brim with nervous excitement.

Tara insists that you wear your deep blue doublet and shave your beard, so you look your best. You humour her by doing the former, but you ignore her latter suggestion. From the speed with which Tara leaves, you can tell she thinks this night will involve more than a simple birthday celebration.

When Aurora returns home from the bookshop, shock blooms on her face. You take her hand and lead her into the dining room, where she looks around in bewilderment.

“You did all this for me,” she breathes, her eyes dilated with gratitude and desire.

“Happy birthday,” you reply, drawing her close.

You stumble and sway as your mouths find each other’s. She tastes of peppermint and smells of sea wind. You come apart panting, flushed, and you pull away from her only so you do not burn the food that is cooking. You glimpse a spasm of anxiety on her face, so you pass her your gift as you make your way to the kitchen.

“Gale.” She takes the box from you. “You really shouldn’t have.”

She stands at the boundary of the kitchen door as she unwraps it. You have found first edition copies of the complete works of Lorazelle Staunth, one of Aurora’s favourite romance writers. It took you some wrangling, but you managed to convince a colleague, a distant cousin of Staunth’s, to get them signed by their author. It is difficult to focus on the gravy you are stirring as you watch her out of the corner of your eye. She gasps, beaming, turning each book over in her hands with wonder and reverence, murmuring to herself.

You grin. “You’re welcome.”

She strides into the kitchen, over the invisible border that she has always feared to tread. Your breath catches as she leans into your back and wraps her arms around you. She does not let go, even when you have to walk back and forth to gather the dishes together to serve. Nor do you have the heart to ask her to release you.

You have never loved anyone so completely. You have never felt such happiness.

When you eventually sit down to eat, you take for granted what it is that you are asking. It dawns on you, as her jaw clenches and she grimaces. She tries, so hard, smiling, thanking you, complimenting your efforts. Her cutlery clatters on her plate, her movements are laboured. She tries to follow the thread of conversation, even when her gaze glazes and her words become broken. But in the end, it is too much, and you know you have pushed her too far, too soon.

“I’m sorry,” she gasps.

When she retreats to the bathroom, guilt engulfs you. You leave the untouched dishes, blow out the candles, silence the piano. You follow her, standing outside the locked door, listening to her muffled cries. You want to ask her to let you in. You do not know what to do, what to say. You wait.

How could you have been so foolish, so thoughtless? How could you have caused her such agony? You, who have always taken pride in your wisdom, your keen powers of observation. You have pushed the woman you love off a precipice, because you were selfish and insensitive. She has every right to be angry. To decide that you love her poorly. That you are unworthy.

You should have known better. You must make it up to her. You must find a way.

“This is my fault, Aurora,” you manage. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I should have been more mindful… Please forgive me.”

The door creaks open slowly. Her eyes are swollen, her voice is hoarse.

“There’s nothing to forgive. You didn’t do anything wrong, Gale.”

She trudges back to the dining room, and you trail behind her. You can tell from her footsteps that she is exhausted. Adrift.  She gestures towards the table.

“Do you mind if we…”

You wrap your arms around her. She stands stiffly. She neither returns nor rejects your embrace. When you step back, she will not look at you.

“I don’t think I can give you what you need, Gale.”

You are taken aback by her words. Panic grows within you.

“What do you mean?”

She bites her lip, shaking her head.

“That’s not true, Aurora.” Your stomach lurches. “Please don’t say such things.”

She stares at you. There is something like coldness in her gaze, but you know it is not that. It is a wall of resignation, shame. There is bitterness in her voice, but it is not directed at you.

“You deserve someone who you can enjoy a dinner that you took such great lengths to prepare. Someone who’s grateful for all the amazing things you do. Someone who can receive the gifts that you give without reservations and certainly without…”

She swipes her hand towards the bathroom, the dining table, herself.

“…This. You deserve more than this shambles.”

“No, Aurora.” Your voice shakes like a plea. “No. I love you, what I deserve is-”

Her face twists.

“What if this is what it’s like, for the rest of my life? What if I can never sit beside you like a normal person and share such a wonderful meal that you so lovingly made? Will that be enough for you? Truly?”

You do not hesitate, not even for a second.

“Yes. Always. You’ll always be enough for me.”

She jerks her head back and forth. She knows you are being genuine, but there is dismay in her reaction.

“It isn’t enough. You deserve better.”

When you reach out to her, she turns away.

---

“Gale.”

There is uncertainty in her voice. She is flicking through the books and papers that clutter your desk as you look up from the letter you are furiously writing. When she last visited, Shadowheart told you about Sister Rose, a cleric at the House of the Moon, reputedly an expert in afflictions of this nature. You are bent on making her acquaintance as soon as possible.

“There’s an awful lot of research here about...”

You nod. She still struggles to give her condition a name.

“What about your own research? Your studies on Illusion?” She frowns. “Do you have time for…all this?”

It is true that you have put your own research on hold for the moment, but it hardly matters. You do not understand why both she and Tara have been asking you about this. You place your quill to one side and stand, crossing over to her. You place one hand on each shoulder, lowering your head to look straight into her eyes.

“This is my only priority right now, Aurora. If there’s anything out there that can help you be free of this burden, then I’ll find it.”

She winces. It stings you. All you want is to show her that you love and care for her more than anything. You do not understand.

“I think it might a bit more complicated than that, Gale.” Her gaze flickers away, then back to you. “I don’t think it’s an equation that can be solved with a simple formula.”

You search her eyes. She is withdrawing, you can sense it. Soon, you will not be able to follow. Desperation bubbles within you. You must show her that you can do it. You can help her.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way. There’s a wealth of knowledge that I’ve not even touched yet. We’ll find a way out of this together.”

Her features spasm. She closes her eyes.

“This isn’t your burden, Gale. It isn’t your problem to fix.”

You take her face in your hands. Her eyes are misted now, darkening. You feel helpless to stop the clouds that are coming.

“You’re the woman I love. I do this because I love you.”

She presses her hand against yours. It is so small, so cold.

“Gale, your research, your studies-“

“Nothing matters more to me than you.”

She makes a choked sound. There is anguish in it. You need to prove to her that it can be done, that you can find her the keys to freedom. She holds you, and you can feel her shivering slightly. She turns, and you watch, bereft, as she leaves the room.

---

You jolt awake on some nights, clutching your chest where the mark of the orb used to be. Pain still blazes through you after the nightmares, emanating from the orb’s phantom, ripping through every muscle.  You grit your teeth and clench the sheets, waiting for it to pass. You do not know if you are imagining it, or if there are traces of the orb which remain. Perhaps Mystra is not fully pleased with you, despite having promised her forgiveness. Perhaps you still disappoint her, and this is the only reprimand that she can be bothered to muster.

Your dreams are black and purple. Gossamer veils and black tentacles wind around you, flooding the chambers of your heart. You are a young boy behind a rose bush, and then you are a man stripped bare by a command, and you are on your knees, undone before the astral abyss. The goddess looms over you, pronouncing your judgment, and you are terrified and alone.

Every time you wake trembling, shouting, she is by your side. She holds you, her dawn light caressing your hands, your chest, your eyes. She cradles you, and her whispers are like healing spells. You are loved. You are safe. You are enough. You are still here.

You wish you could do the same for her, every time the darkness comes.

---

“The dancing figures, and then the dragons that you conjured… the battle that you represented with those floating lights… It was truly spectacular, Aurora, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You have returned home with Aurora. Your hands are a flurry, and you can barely contain the excitement and pride in your voice. For almost four months she has been working with a collection of poets and playwrights to put together a showcase of their debut works. A small production, but a raving success. That only a modest crowd attended the performance seems to you the greatest injustice.

On the walk back, she has been smiling, nodding, making the occasional sound of agreement. But you can tell that she is not present. You tell yourself it must be post-performance exhaustion, frayed nerves. Perhaps she has not eaten or drunk enough. Maybe she needs more sleep. Her days have been long lately.

Yet there is something in her quietness that gives you pause.

“Aurora, are you alright?” You place a hand on her cheek. “Is something the matter?”

She shakes her head. “I’m fine, Gale.”

You can tell from the way that she hunches into herself, from the wall that has come up behind her eyes, that she is not fine.

“What’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

“No.” She turns away. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Aurora.” You take her hand. “Please, tell me.”

Her lip quivers. She starts and stops. “I can’t. I don’t…”

She closes her eyes. She pushes you away when you try to hold her. Sometimes, it is agonising when she withdraws. When you have shown her your whole soul, and there are parts of herself she hides from you. Tonight, it feels like a rejection. Perhaps it is not that she cannot give you everything, or that she fears to do so. Perhaps she simply does not wish to.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Your voice comes out flat, but inside you are breaking. The torment in her gaze is like a gash in your heart.

“No, I…” She balls her fists. “I just…”

You never thought you would ever wish to have a mindflayer tadpole again. But tonight, you remember how it was, to so easily join your thoughts to another’s, to share their memories and feelings, to see the world through their eyes. Tonight, you wish you both had a tadpole, so you could ask her to let you in. So you could understand her.

But perhaps she still would not wish to open herself to you.

“It’s alright, Aurora. You don’t have to tell me.”

“Gale…”

Old memories are coming to you now. Old wounds, from giving of yourself and asking, then failing to receive. Of waiting, fighting to become worthy. Of being shut behind icy walls, left with nothing but your lack.

“I understand if there are things you don’t wish to share with me.”

She steps towards you. “It’s not that…”

A flood has begun inside you now, and you feel like you may drown.

“I understand if you don’t feel like you can trust me. Perhaps I need to do more to earn your trust.”

She is shaking her head furiously.

“I know that I’ve failed on many occasions to be what you need me to be-”

“Gale, please stop.”

There is such an urgency in her words. You stare at her.  

“It’s not your fault.”

A tear rolls down her cheek.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you… I just don’t have the words to tell you. Everything inside is just… a mess.”

There is a flash of light inside you. A wave of relief ripples amongst the flood.

“I want you to read my thoughts.”

You are speechless for a moment. You are considering what this means, what she is giving you. The weight of rejection that you no longer have to carry. The fear that you can cast out.

She nods at you, firmly, earnestly.

“I want you to know everything. Please, Gale. Cast the spell.”

---

When you read her thoughts, you see. You feel the anguish that jolts through her, watching the meaningless flirtations that are cast your way. The painted faces and willowy figures flaunted by younger women she believes are more worthy of your attentions. You hear the voices within her, screaming at her for the ways in which she differs from them. Her hair, lank and dark, her skin, blemished and rubbery. Bulges in her flesh where other bodies lay flat. Endless mirrors, laden with shame and anger twisted inwards like a blade, a barbed yearning to be different, better, beautiful.

He is so beautiful, the voice chants, and you are not. He will soon see, and grow weary of you. And then he will leave.

There had been a few women, after the performance, who had thrown themselves at you. You scarcely remembered them, they were so trivial, their chattering so absurd. You had never been one to fawn over such superficial things. Others may consider you attractive, but what of it? You have no eyes for anyone else but her.

But now you see, and you understand. You realise that the frequency of such incidents hurts her. It is not your fault, but she struggles nonetheless.

“Aurora.” You are afraid you might cry from the intensity of her pain. “There’s no one else. You’re the only one I see.”

You are not on your knees, but you feel as though you are begging.

“I love you. Only you. You must believe me. You must see it.”

You can tell how badly she wants to say yes. But she does not.

“What can I do to prove it to you?” you plea. “What more can I do to show you? Because I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.”

She takes your face in her hands. She looks at you with love and despair.

“You’ve given me everything, Gale. There’s nothing more you can do.”

---

“Thank you so much for seeing me, Sister.”

Her face crinkles as she smiles. She seems kind enough, but you are uncertain she will be able to give you more than the leading scholars you have harangued. But you are willing to try anything. Even an elderly cleric of Selune who has spoken to you for half an hour about gardening.

“It sounds like you’ve done considerable research into this condition, Professor Dekarios.”

“I have,” you confess. “But I’m aware that you have considerable practical experience in healing individuals with this affliction. And that’s why I’m here, to understand the methods that have given you such success.”

“Oh?” She rests her chin on steepled fingers.

“Yes,” you continue. “I’ve been trying to apply the recommended approaches, Sister, based on the latest advice from the House of Healing in-”

“Approaches?”

You nod. She considers for a moment, her brow furrowed.

“Professor Dekarios,” she begins. “Do you love your fiancé?”

“She’s not my-”

You stop yourself. She is more to you than even that.

“Yes. I do. Very much.”

“And do you show her that, with your words and actions?”

You are not sure where this line of reasoning is leading. But you are reassured by the gentleness in the Sister’s voice.

“Yes. I do.”

She leans forward in her chair.

“When she struggles, do you show her patience, kindness, and respect?”

“Of course.” You frown. You assume this is obvious. How could you not? “And I try, always, to broaden the limits of my understanding.”

She hums. “And when you speak to your fiancé, do you speak to her soul, or her affliction?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you mean, Sister.”

“Do you truly see her? The truth of her person, beyond the hold that this condition has on her? Who she is, outside of this suffering?”

You remember the way she rocked against you as she wept, that first time she had let you visit her in the House of Healing. ‘This is all I am,’ she had said. ‘This is all I’ve ever been.’ It was not true then, and it is not true now.

“I do, Sister.”

She nods, then leans back again.

“Then you’re doing everything that you can do.”

That cannot be all. You cannot mask the exasperation in your voice.

“Surely there must be something more I can do. There must be a remedy-”

Something steels in her gaze. “May I speak frankly, Professor Dekarios?”

“Of course.”

She draws in a sharp breath.

“What your fiancé suffers from cannot be cured with a spell or a tincture, a scalpel or a course of medicine. She must walk herself through a tangle of vines, and cut them off one by one at the root. It may take her a few months, or it may take her a lifetime. But you can’t do this for her. Neither is it your responsibility to do so.”

She cuts you off before you can interject.

“You can’t cure her. All you can do is love her, and show her what lies beyond the vines. That’s enough, Professor Dekarios.”

Her smile is light, but her words are heavy.

“You’re doing enough.”

---

As soon as you open the front door, the smell of burning assails you. You rush into your home, leaping from room to room, calling out her name. Eventually, her voice comes to you from the kitchen.

You find her there, crouching on the floor amidst a scattering of broken china. She is holding a cloth around her right thumb, drenched in crimson.

“What happened?” you gasp.

You hurry to her side. As you fuss over her injury, gathering up the sharp shards around you, she tries to reassure you that she is fine, everything is fine.

“I wanted to make you something,” she explains. “Something we could share together – I wanted to try, to show you I’m getting better.”

She stares at her bleeding thumb, at the remains of the charred dish she could not prepare. You wrap your arms around her. You do not want her to be crushed by disappointment, feeling she has failed. You want to shield her from it all, forever.

“You have nothing to prove, Aurora.”

“But I do.” She looks up at you with whirling eyes.  “I don’t want you to run yourself into the ground, trying to fix me.”

“It’s not like that-”

“But it is, Gale. I love you, and I always will. You don’t need to earn it. You can’t fix me. You don’t need to.”

The words stick in your throat. You are overwhelmed by the knowledge that even in her distress, she has sought to give you comfort. To assure you of her love. In the light of her gaze, the shadows of your old wounds seem to fade.

“I’m not going anywhere.” The resolve in her voice fills you with hope. “And I’ll fight this until the end.”

She curls into you, and you cradle her head against your heart. You are not sure how long you remain there, still and silent, cocooned in each other. You become aware of her lips brushing against the exposed skin of your chest, drifting softly up the side of your neck, over the line of your jaw. You tremble as her tongue flutters on the bristles of your cheek. Her searching mouth opens to yours.

And then, all you can feel and taste and smell is her.

---

“Where did you learn all these things?”

You smirk at the question. Your body drapes over hers like a mantle. There is awe and mischief in her tone. Dusted with pink, her skin gleams with the after-effects of your passion. You cannot get enough of the sight.

“Aurora,” you chide. “A gentleman doesn’t speak of such things.”

She arches an eyebrow. “You aren’t always a gentleman.”

“I suppose not.”

You swipe your tongue around the peak of her nipple. She moans, batting you softly away as you laugh.

“But Gale,” she whines. “I’m curious.”

“Are you?”

“Yes, I am.” Those wide, bright eyes again. You can never refuse them.

“I’ll do my best to sate your curiosity,” you mumble into her neck.

She chews her lip. “I know there were a few others, before Mystra.”

“There were.”

She sighs as you nibble at her collarbone.

“But no one of note, you said.”

You hum, tracing your nose down her shoulder. “Forgettable. Distractions.”

“And then Mystra preferred things abstract, incorporeal…”

“She did.” You are following Aurora’s freckles again, down to the underside of her breast. You can feel the vibrations of her body.

“So how did you gain such proficiency in-”

She sucks in a breath as you lick at the spray of freckles around her navel, meandering down to her centre. Her hips roll ever so slightly. You are surging.

You grin as you look up at her. “I studied and practised.”

---

Your clasp and unclasp your hands behind your back. Your throat is dry, your chest a tangle. In a haze, you scan the smiling faces of all your nearest and dearest, gathered before you with eager anticipation. The scent of lavender drifts from the arch behind you, stilling your thoughts for a moment.

You had been planning to ask her. For weeks you had fretted over the words, the time and place. You had worried that it was too soon, too much. Your research told you that such events could often trigger an exacerbation of her affliction. You did not want to subject her to such agony. And though you knew her love and desire for you, fear still clung to you like your phantom orb. Part of you was still afraid she would not accept.

She had turned up at Blackstaff unexpectedly on your birthday. You had planned to take a stroll into the city together after your classes were over, but she wanted to give you a present before then. With wonder, you unravelled a collection of poems she had written. Entitled “Promise”, the first page was a dedication to you.

Her poems conjured the splendour of stars bursting. It did not take long for you to devour them all. And she had known you would, because the last line of the final poem ended: “Marry me.”

It is true that there were tears, and half-eaten meals, and broken mirrors. You tried to take on as many of the preparations as possible, to shield her from the stress. You reassured her that the wedding could be postponed or cancelled if she was not ready. You could not take away her fears about what she might wear, how she might look. Yet she had promised that she would fight, and fight she did. And now, you are here.

You can see your mother giggling as she whispers to your aunt and uncle, your cousins jostling keenly around them. Nurse Mona sits amongst a small group of druids and bards, Aurora’s closest friends. Elminster bobs his head to the rhythm of the lutist. Karlach glimmers with muted fire, grinning at you and waving. You wave back, extending your greeting to a beaming Halsin beside her. You glimpse Astarion and Tav, fiddling with each other’s collars, and Shadowheart examining a piece of parchment with Xan. Lae’zel watches and listens with silent pride.

It has been years since you have come together with your companions from the old days. Time and distance could not sever the bonds that formed between you so long ago. Yet their absence was a hole inside you that ached to be filled, until today.

To stand here, surrounded by these people you cherish so dearly, knowing you are loved and desired by her so completely – it is overwhelming. You are blinking, rubbing your eyes hard.  Wyll squeezes your arm behind you. You turn to face him.

“Remember what we talked about, Gale.”

You inhale sharply, running your fingers through your hair.

“Breathe…” Wyll chants. “Think: Calm. Composed. Dignified.”

“I am calm and composed,” you echo. “I am dignified.”

He nods sagely. “We have the whole day ahead of us.”

“And I can’t be a blubbering mess already.” You clear your throat.

Wyll chuckles. “If anyone can handle this, my friend, it’s you.”

In his gold-embroidered, midnight blue doublet, Wyll exudes courtly bearing. When he and Karlach had returned to Baldur’s Gate, it did not take long for you to rekindle your friendship.

“Thank you for being here, Wyll. I can’t think of a better man to stand by my side.”

His smile is warm as the summer sun.

“Thank you, Gale. The honour is all mine.”

---

When Sister Rose begins her opening remarks, you are barely listening. Your eyes have caught on a flurry of movement in the distance. Your breath hitches.

Tara flutters down the aisle, and comes to rest opposite you and Wyll. Your oldest companion, your most loyal friend. The one who cared for you when you had no one else. Now, she stands by the woman that you love as her most ardent defender, her confidante. You reach out to her. She nuzzles your hand with her cheek. Your vision is beginning to blur.

Everything around you dissolves as Aurora steps forward. She wears her dark waves like a crown. Her face glows in the sunlight, bare except for a flicker of blue kohl on her eyelids and a dusting of glitter on her freckled cheekbones. Her gown is a waterfall of stars at midnight, resting lightly around her waist, cascading around her as she moves. It is a masterful, delicate illusion, but it does not conceal her, nor temper her beauty. She strides towards you with the certainty of hope, the resolve of love.

The tears come, and you cannot stop them.

She does not take her eyes off yours as she approaches. You have never before witnessed such a miracle, nor felt a happiness so bright and raw.

You are both crying as she takes her place. There is a ripple of sighs from the crowd as Wyll passes you a handkerchief and Sister Rose presses a cloth into Aurora’s shaking fingers. You are laughing as you wipe away each other’s tears.

You take hold of her hands, and it begins.

---

“Here he is, the man of the hour.”

You dip your head at Astarion. Tav embraces you.

“I do apologise. I was making a beeline for you, but got accosted by a very merry Elminster, extolling the virtues of our cheese board in painstaking detail.”

“None of us have been able to get near it,” Tav laments. “Or dared to try.”

“Lovely cloak, Astarion. Very… vampiric.”

Astarion arches an eyebrow. “It was either this or not coming at all. Fashion is less important than not frying in the sun, I’m afraid, even for such a momentous occasion.”

You chuckle. “Thank you for coming.”

His fangs glint as he grins. Tav circles an arm around his shoulder.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, Gale,” Tav exclaims. “We’re so, so happy for you.”

“We just had the pleasure of your wife’s acquaintance.” Astarion takes a sip of wine. “I didn’t think I would ever meet someone so similar to you in every respect, yet not insufferable at all! Your wife is simply charming. An absolute delight.”

“Astarion,” Tav warns.

You titter. “I think I’ll take that comment in the spirit in which it was intended. She’s exceptional. Remarkable. I agree.”

“I can only imagine how many long and intense discussions you had in the library,” Astarion purrs. “Staring longingly at each other, whispering sweet nothings into each other’s-”

Tav jostles him. “Astarion, stop!”

Astarion cackles.

“What’s so funny?”

You flinch a little from the force of Karlach’s hug. Halsin, deep in conversation with a smiling Aurora, follows behind. She radiates with joy, and you have never wanted her more.

You clasp Halsin’s hand in greeting.

“Just to be clear, Halsin.” You plant a kiss on Aurora’s cheek, intertwining your fingers with hers. “My wife and I are quite happy with our relationship, as it is. Just the two of us.”

Halsin holds his hands up. “I wouldn’t presume otherwise, Gale.”

Aurora looks at you in confusion. You touch your nose to hers.

Karlach chortles. “You two are so fucking sweet.”

---

“So we’ll see you again next month?” Aurora asks hopefully.

“Of course.” Shadowheart takes the wine that you offer her. “I might end up staying longer at the House of the Moon this time. I’ll bring you those scrolls and tinctures that we discussed.”

Aurora’s eyes dance with delight.

“Will you bring the owlbear?” Karlach gushes. “Wyll and I have missed the little guy.”

“Perhaps that would be an opportunity for Xan.” Lae’zel glances at the child. “You wanted to make a sculpture of a great beast of Faerun, did you not?”

Xan nods thoughtfully. He scribbles something in his notebook.

“It would be a great opportunity for us, too, Lae’zel,” you muse. “To hear more of your jokes.”

Lae’zel twitches.

“And to learn about more unconventional uses of Githyanki psionics.” You catch Aurora’s eye, and she bites her lip.

“Observe, Xan,” Lae’zel remarks, gesturing between the two of you. “Waterdhavian mating rituals are indeed more refined than others in Faerun.”

There is the slightest lift of Lae’zel’s eyebrow. You clap your hands together and laugh.

---

How is it possible for a heart to feel so full?

You stand silently, bathing in the light of the stars, buoyed by the song of those you love around you. You search for her, and it does not take long to find her.

She lingers near the central table, admiring the intricate designs on the cake which your mother crafted with tenderness and zeal. Gently, she takes a small slice in her hands, lifting it to her lips.

She takes one bite, and then pauses. She takes another. She smiles.

Her grey eyes meet yours across the expanse. You bound towards her, and she squeals as you lift her up and spin her around. You can taste brandy and chocolate as her mouth glides against yours.

“I think it’s time to go,” you whisper.

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

Author's note: When I finished Progress, I thought it would be a standalone fic. But I was so in love with Gale and Aurora, and so wanted to give them a happy ending. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for taking the time to engage with this story.

If you liked this fic, you can check out my other work here.

Please, feel free to reach out, I'd love to hear from you.

--

Read the sequel: Revelation

[blindseer0]

Echo General Timeline

(Another repost from Twitter from back in February)

I was watching Keith Ballard's Echo playthrough, and at one point they wonder what the ages of the characters are. People responded with a bunch of contradictory answers, so I decided to find out myself. A few disclaimers:

Echo was made over 7+ years with multiple writers. We don’t know how much of the timeline was planned out, what ambiguity is because it’s a horror mystery, and what are errors. Chase also canonly has a shitty memory for dates and ages (he’s just like me, fr).

I’m definitely putting more thought into this than anyone should, and probably more thought than the writers did (or should be expected to). This is largely for fun (and because my brain is “Just Like that” ™) and should not be taken too seriously.

I’ll try to address contradictions, but I hope to go deeper in another thread. I will cover my guesses there as well. If I can’t back it up with a screenshot, it’s not here. If anyone has screenshots of the writers confirming or denying these ages, let me know. Now onto the show:

When Do The Games Take Place?

Echo takes place in 2015, in mid to late March.

Route 65 takes place on November 1, 2008. (This was a Saturday in real life and I was recovering from a Halloween costume wedding at a strip club the night before.)

Chase

Echo: 21

Route 65: 15

Comments: Chase, being the MC, is pretty straightforward. His age is stated in both games, though we never get a birthdate. He’s in the same grade level as Carl, graduated High School in May 2012 and started college in Fall of 2012.

Carl Echo: 20

Route 65: 14

Born: April 1994

Comments: Carl is my favorite because his birthday is a plot point. His 8th birthday party was on April 19th, 2002. That was a Friday (yes, I checked), so it’s possible that was the actual day and not just the party.

TJ

Echo: 19

Route 65: 13

Comments: TJ is also pretty easy, since they state his age in the prologue and Route 65. Chase forgets his age during Leo’s route, but there are enough other scenes (not pictured) that confirm he’d be 19 at this point in the year.

Flynn

Echo: 25

Route 65: 18

Comments: Flynn is established multiple times as the oldest of the group, and his age is stated pretty clearly during his route. Plenty to say about the character (and I will), but not much about his age.

Jenna

Echo: 21-22 (The wiki is wrong and I will fight it)

Route 65: ???

Comments: This is where it gets tricky. Jenna’s age is never stated in either game. However, we get her age during the “Runaway” side story. We also know she’s at least one grade level above Chase and Carl, since she’s graduating college in 2015. Since she was 17 in May 2010, the oldest she can be in March 2015 is 22 (17+5). If her birthday was right before she ran away it’s possible she’s 21, but we know no one has a birthday in March or April, so it’s more likely that she ran away right before she turned 18.

Leo

Echo: Fuck if I Know

Route 65: *Deep Beleaguered Sigh*

Comments: You’d think for someone whose age is a plot point this would be easy, but nope. Leo’s exact age is never actually said during either game. We get clues, which I’ll cover, but nothing as specific as everyone else. The most exact thing we get is a throwaway line in Flynn’s Route that his birthday is probably in February. He’s likely two grades above Chase, since we know he played Football during the 2009 season (which ends in November/December), which would mean he graduated in May 2010.

We do get his age in relation to other people. He’s roughly one year younger than Flynn, and three years older than Micha. Flynn is 25, and Micha is “nearly 21 now!” (which is the type of thing a 19-year-old would say). If we assume Micha is telling the truth and is 20, Leo is 23-24.

If Micha is 20 going on 21 in March 2015, then he was probably 14 in November 2008. If Leo’s birthday is really in February, then he’d have been 17 in Route 65, and 24 in Echo, which are solid answers, but technically guesses because they rely on so much shaky information.

There you go, (mostly) solid ages for all the main characters in Echo. If you have any screenshots from the games or the creators that prove or disprove this thread, please send them my way. Let me know what you think, and if there is anything else you’d want to see.

I’m hoping to do more threads covering the contradictions, when Sydney actually died (and his age), speculation about birthdates, and when Chase was conceived, because I’m a monster.

[orangeblossoms7]

Addressing a Few Things (hopefully for the last time)

Please don't look down on creators who make 'decorative things and texture packs.' Just because my mods are mostly cosmetic doesn't mean they're any less valuable than the 'mechanical value' you're talking about. We may not know each other, but with the disrespect you're showing to aesthetic creators, I sincerely hope we never meet.

The screenshots are from the SDV Discord server.

Maybe leaving Nexus was a really good idea because of people like these. 🥲 Thanks to the one who spoke up for me though! 🥹

For the record, while my Ko-fi shop items and Patreon download links are marked 'members-only,' I've clearly included a link directing followers and free members to my CurseForge profile where the mods are also available. See below:

'|⬇| FREE DOWNLOAD' is there in capital letters. The same is true for all of my 'public release' mods.

You can see that almost all of my mods are in this new site.

'DOWNLOAD MY MODS HERE' is highlighted in bold, capital letters in my pinned post.

On my about page, 'FREE DOWNLOADS HERE' is also highlighted in bold, capital letters.

I initially marked my Ko-fi and Patreon mods as for 'everyone,' but later decided to change them to 'members-only'. To offset this "inconvenience", I made sneak peeks and polls of my 'to-be-public' mods free for all, as communicated in my welcome post below:

The same is also written in my Patreon welcome note.

It's frustrating to be reproached and get derisive comments for wanting compensation for my work when others literally do the same with commissions. I'm not even one of those modders who paywall sneak peeks and then upload the finished mod on ad-heavy, pop-up-heavy sites where they earn revenue.

Regarding the limited-time mod (like my September 2024 Milk Door), it's simply a fun bonus for my members—a way to thank them for supporting me all this time... and still being there for me all throughout the bad times I've experienced at Nexus and the SDV community there. I didn't think it would be an issue since it's a tiny little mod that won't even impact anyone's gameplay except for roleplaying(?) purposes of having a milkman deliver milk to your milk door...

I'm trying to balance 'members-only' and 'free for all' mods without making anyone feel left out. Admittedly, some of my mods are for members only (around 8) but I think the amount of free mods (34 to be exact) I've already shared with everyone offsets this "imbalance."

(I'm not trying to hold this over anyone, but I'm adding this little disclaimer just in case someone tries to twist my words.)

If you disagree with how I do things, feel free to unfollow. I'm gonna be sad to see you go because of this, but if you feel uncomfortable, then I understand. My content and rules may not be for everyone, and that’s okay. If waiting to download my mods for free isn’t for you, I suggest exploring other modders.

As for those who are still here despite everything else, you have my eternal gratitude. Always. ♥︎♡♥︎

love,

🍊🌸