#i didn't want to put too much effort in or i'd die

[i-eat-novels]

mxtx fandoms be like 😔🙏

[dreaming-tonite]

Lovesong (whenever I’m alone with you)

— Even the toughest punk needed a place to call home at the end of the day.

A/N: finished the Spider-Punk solo comic run and I just want to give him a hug...

Pairing: Hobie Brown x reader

Warning: description of open wounds, little hurt and a lot of comfort

Word count: 1.3k

It was usually the crack of dawn when he showed up.

A thump from the living room stirred you awake. The sun was already filtering in through your blinds but the sound of rummaging still put you on alert immediately, instinctively reached for the wooden bat Hobie made you put near your bed when he wasn't around before carefully creeping out of your bed.

("Could never be too careful," he had said, shoving you the bat that he got from god knows where as he perched on your window, mask in hand and guitar on his back, "it's a fucking war zone out there.")

A lean shadow projected onto your walls, limping on its side when you peeked from your door.

You dropped the bat when you recognised who it was immediately.

"Hobie?"

Spider-Punk froze in place when you flipped your lights on, the illumination guiding your eyes to his palm that pressed against the side of his stomach in an instant. His guitar was on the floor somewhere near the window he was swung into your house with, a few specks of blood on the neck and strings loosened from what must have been a long night.

If he was being honest, he felt like shit. But from the corner of his eyes, the sight of you wearing his band t that was far too loose on you still made him want to try to look ok for your sake.

"Mornin' love," he tried to drop his arm but winced as a sharp pain pulsated through his core, eyes furrowing under his mask while crouching forward, "didn't mean to wake you up."

he gave in when you rushed to his side, his free arm swinging over your shoulder limply and trying his best to not put his weight on your smaller frame. Your brows locked together when you saw the red seeping through his suit, bleeding out from where he was trying to hold it in.

"It isn't a deep cut," he said softly, though he was sure it wouldn't make you worry any less, "think I just tore it a lil when I was swinging over, that's all."

"Should I get someone? Ask someone else in the Spider Band to get you back to the base—"

"No, that wouldn't be— that wouldn't be necessary," he paused briefly, "we ran out of gauze at the community centre, thought I'd have a bigger chance finding something to stop the bleeding at your place instead."

He lied, and it was a bad one as well, because you were the one who always made sure their first aid kits were well-stocked and prepared for any sudden raids or clashes they might find themselves into.

The least you could do to support your lover's relentless effort to take down a totalitarian government.

But you didn't say anything, only held onto him when his balance was starting to fail him.

You stumbled backwards before regaining your footing when he lumped forward, his tall frame hinging onto yours as he leaned his masked face onto your shoulder, a muffled groan vibrating against your skin.

"Hobie? Hobes?" you panicked, "Are you sure you're ok? Let me go get the bandages to patch you up—"

"No, just..." he buried his face deeper into the crook of your neck, still careful to make sure the spikes on his mask were out of the way and that he was not getting blood on the shirt you seemed so comfortable in, all while the tiredness slowly took over, "stay with me like this, just for a while."

So you did, taking in a deep breath and letting your eyes close so that the only thing you could feel was him, how he was alive and breathing against you.

Spider-Punk was a fighter, for the people and for the cause. He had lost enough already, and every day he was fighting to grasp at the last bits they were trying to pull from his hands.

The world was not okay, and the only way to pretend it was is to become the kind of people he loathed so much, which he would much rather die fighting than ever become one of those people.

You were sure he loved more deeply than anyone else, because how else could you stay angry at the unjust in the world when the abnormal had become the norm?

It takes a lot of love to try and make things right, and all you wished was that you could give him the same amount of love he had given the world.

So, he was sure you already knew why he still wanted to see you at this unholy hour in the morning, through the pain he was enduring, even just for the brief moment before the sunrises and the city wakes up fully.

Perhaps, deep down, even the toughest fighter wanted to feel like there was somewhere where things were alright, and seeing you safe in the t-shirt he left at your place made him feel like he was alright.

"It's ok, it's ok, I got you..." you fell onto the floor with him when his knees finally bucked, fumbling to lay him down as gently as you could with all his weight on your arms.

This time he didn't protest, perhaps too tired to do it any longer, and he didn't say a word when your fingers stopped at the seam of his mask.

The sound of the first few cars to drive by in the morning was all that filled the living room as he stared right at you, tilting his head slightly to his side as a silent sign to go ahead.

You had always known, but you still liked to ask anyways.

"Hey," Hobie said when you pulled his mask off, a soft smile toying at the corner of his lips as he finally faced you properly.

You couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Hey," you replied, voice almost like a whisper as you kneeled at his side.

His body stiffened as you carefully peeled his hand away from the bleeding wound and you winced when you saw the skin that was cut open.

"Not a deep cut, you say?" You crooked your brows, pulling out the first aid kit you had stashed away under the nearest table.

"Hm," he hummed, trying his hardest not to jerk forward in pain when you gently peeled off the fabric that stuck to his skin from the dried-up blood, "not a deep one compared to the wound on the other guy."

He watched the way you rolled your eyes at him before averting your attention back to the task a hand. He liked to watch when you were focused, the way you sat cross-legged on the floor and eyebrows scrunched up while taking care of him.

Your shadow was long against the wall as the morning light filled the room, a rare moment of serenity before the day starts when the sound of the outside world felt calming for once.

It felt right, and it felt safe, and his eyes were starting to feel heavy as the morning warmth lured him to sleep.

And you must have seen the way his lids twitched as he tried to stay awake. "It's ok, just let go," you nodded, your thumb tracing down from his temple to his jaw until you were cradling his face, "you're home, you can rest."

Home, the word rolled off your tongue so naturally that he simply could not resist it.

"Sweet dreams," you whispered against his lips and through the drowsiness, he still grinned when he felt the soft peck as he drifted into slumber.

And when he woke up to the sight of you curled up at his side, Hobie knew he finally found his place in the world where things were alright.

[oomisluvr]

sakusa takes care of a sick!reader <3

synopsis: granted, it is a bit gross. the sniffling. the sweating. god, the coughing. but he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy this. just a little.

warnings: none, just some light swearing!

KIYOOMI should not be enjoying this as much as he should.

a steady hand brings another spoonful of soup to his lips, blowing on the contents to cool them off.

"this is humiliating," you groan, opening your mouth as sakusa feeds you now-tepid broth, complete with airplane noises and silly voices, "you don't have to feed me."

watching closely, he smiles softly as you thoughtfully chew and swallow, your sore throat bobbing with the motion. he likes taking care of you. maybe a bit too much, if he's being honest.

"of course i do," he quips, already preparing another spoonful, "i'm your partner. it's my job to take care of you."

"no, no more!" you whine, shaking your head, "i don't want to eat anymore. i'm full."

he frowns. you barely ate today. "give me five more bites of soup and finish the rest of your toast."

you sniffle and nod, opening your mouth to welcome the next spoonful of soup, "did you make this yourself?" you ask, congestion muffling your words. kiyoomi thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever heard.

"yeah, i got the recipe from my mother." a small droplet of soup dribbles out of the corner of your lip, but kiyoomi is quick to act, dabbing away the liquid before it reaches your clothes, "she sends her regards, by the way."

"i love that woman." you babble, "i'm surprised you're not freaked out by all this."

"by what? feeding you?"

"no, like," you open your mouth for another spoonful of soup. sakusa rushes to oblige you, happy that you requested more, "all the germs and stuff. earlier i sneezed and a booger shot across the room. a full 10 feet, at least."

"well when you put it like that, it sounds pretty fucking gross." he frowns.

"i thought it was cool."

"you think everything is cool." he sighs, "especially dumb shit like snot rockets." you giggle at the words 'snot rocket' coming out of his mouth.

"but, no, i'm not freaked out." he adds, setting the chipped bowl to the side when you turn your nose up at the next spoonful, "i think i was at first, but we live together," he shrugs, "i can't really protect myself unless i lock you inside the closet for the next two weeks, and that's not an option. if i get sick, i get sick. i've accepted my fate."

"you could go stay with one of your teammates in the mean time, if you're really bothered by it." you note seriously. you know he's trying to act cool in front of you, but you know how big of a sacrifice this is .

"i'd rather catch the plague." his ears perk up at the sound of your laugh, "besides, if i get sick, you get to take care of me." he grins, "won't that be fun?"

"i might lock you in the closet, actually." he scoffs.

"i'm going to wash your dishes," he pokes your cheek. you make an effort to bite the offensive finger but he moves away too quickly, smiling at his victory, "and when i come back you better be nice again."

you stick your tongue out at him. he returns the gesture.

distantly, you hear him humming to himself over the sound of the the rushing sink water, and something in your brain decides it's the perfect white noise to usher you into a light nap. you hadn't realized you feel asleep until you feel the cough dip, rousing you gently.

"how do you feel, love?" he asks, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead and cheeks.

"sleepy," you mumble, "sleepy and cold."

"don't fall asleep yet," he lightly chastises, "you have to take your medicine now."

"noooo," you cry out, "that shit tastes like shit."

he cracks a smile, "i'm pretty sure it's grape flavored, actually."

you glare at him, "i won't take it."

"it'll make you feel better, though."

you shake your head, "not worth it. i would rather die."

"please, baby? for me?" he gives a dramatic show of puppy-dog eyes and a pout, making every effort to coax you into taking your medicine.

you don't cave, placing your palm over your mouth to emphasize your unwillingness.

"if you don't take your medicine, then you don't love me." he deadpans.

"that's literally gaslighting." you call him out, "you're gaslighting me."

"is it?" he questions, "i don't think you know what actual gaslighting is."

"stop!" you laugh, "that's even more gaslighting."

he smiles handsomely, happy that he was able to shake some giggles from your sore throat, "how about this: what's it going to take for you to take your medicine? anything goes."

"you'd do anything?"

he nods firmly, "whatever it takes."

"alright," his determination makes you flush, "take a nap with me."

it's such a simple request, but if you read in between the lines it sounds more like a declaration of love. kiyoomi's always been slack-jawed at the fact that you actually like him. not despite his flaws, but because of them. your love is all-encompassing, and you've adopted his strange habits into your life and accommodated for them as if they were your own. you never ask him for much, you never push too hard. you deserve the world, and kiyoomi will be damned if he isn't the one to give it to you.

he supposes a nap isn't entirely out of the question.

"i can do that," he responds cooly, "i'll get the cough syrup."

it takes 20 more minutes of bickering before you swallow the spoonful of purple syrup, and another 5 minutes of expressing your distaste following the whole ordeal.

taking the heavy comforters usually saved for the winter months from the closet, he settles himself beneath you as the two of you lie down for an afternoon nap.

you've got an army of pillows and blankets around you, an array of fabrics piled up to your chin. despite the countless layers, you're shivering. oh well, he figures, just another excuse to pull you closer.

guess what!!!!!!!!!! more domestic sakusa!!!!!!!! r u noticing a pattern!!!!!

[randomnameless]

It's crazy how SoV preluded 3H by making one of the protags have a tremendously contradictory mindset of humanity being better off without gods, while also relying on those same gods to fulfill their goals, the hypocrisy of which goes completely unadressed throughout the game; truly masterful foreshadowing

Who directed FE15?

lol

I've recently tried to think about this "gods BaD" shift in more doylist terms - especially since I've finally played a Squenix game recently and...

FE13 was the FE series last ditch effort, it will either work or end up as the F-Zero series, FE13 worked and FE14 followed suit.

Lolcalisation aside, FE14 had a nice plot and I engaging characters - to some people but not me, different tastes and all - but FE14 and FE13 were still FE games, as in part of the old FE series, aka a niche series. Adding dating sim/interpersonal relationship through avatars might have helped a bit, and yet, imo, it was still the "niche" FE series.

Comes FE15 where we basically have a remake, and can't add the interpersonal thing because Alm isn't an avatar (even if the game spends a lot of time praising his oranges) - how to make the game work? Sure, some weirdo fans of the FE series will buy it, and it was never supposed to sell as much as FE13/14, but if it was a 1:1 remake or just with minor adjustments? It might bomb like the Archanea remakes, and good luck coming after that - will they need another "FE13" to reignite the sales or??

And here I thought about it : FE15 was retconned with the "GoDs BaD" spiel, to make this game more in-tune with what I'd call "traditional" JRPGs where the protagonists often defy a corrupt church and "divine" being.

("Traditional" imo being the Squenix way, because while I didn't play all entries of this series, the Tales series never striked me as being particularly as, uh, vindicative against organised religion, maybe save for Symphonia 1 - Abyss' Church really wishes to help the people even if it is corrupted from within by some dude who doesn't want to let the world die and played by the big bad, Xillia has no church, ditto for Zestiria and Phantasia had Mint and... that's it? - compare this to Squenix's Triangle Strategy and Hyzante being comically EvIl and without any redeeming traits/points when all of the other major parties of the conflict have "token good NPCs" as forced as they are in the game, to make it very clear that they might have done questionnable things like invading and slaughtering civilians from a foreign nation who welcomed them at their wedding, but at least they have "MoRaLs" unlike those bozos in their desert...)

And this "let's make FE mainstream by kicking gods" mentality completely runs at odds with the rest of the FE franchise, and while I know RD basically ends like this bcs "uwu Ike defeated a GoD with the help of another who used the lead of that game as a soul jar and granted him exclusive powers to put her sister to sleep" the morale of RD's story - as seen in the perfect ending but in Ike's speech to Yune itself - is that everyone can and should try to live together, asking Gods not the fuck out to let Humanity alone, but to believe in them just like humans believe in gods.

So FE15 ends as this big, uh, mismatched clash of narrative directions - being a remake it cannot stray too far from the source material and Archanea verse : Dragons and Humans can live together (even if it means dragons must sacrifice part of themselves to do so because fuck them I guess) and dragons can help humans just like humans can, uh, not be asses and not target them because their ears are pointy or when they are weakened...

And we had the new Squenix direction where GoDs BaD and HuMaNiTy fuck yeah, which leads to FE15's hypocrisy : please trust and rely on us Gods/dragons and kindly help us when we're in deep shit, and at the same time "HuMaNiTy FuCk YeAh".

Interestingly, the Squenix direction loses in the post game campaign (the one where we discover Thabes) but is reintroduced in the official (tm) timeline, depicting basically how BaD Duma is and how much of a chad Rudy was, before his very tragic (bring the onions!) death.

But yeah, I agree anon, FE15 was crazy foreshadowing and I guess is part of the reason why Tru Piss has this message "Humanity doesn't need Gods" targeted at... Rhea, aka a Nabatean (while Supreme Leader got there thanks to Sothis' powers!!) because the "Humanity Fuck Yeah" narrative is a staple of Squenix JRPGS, and if FE has to become mainstream, I guess to some devs, it has to copy what sells.

That would also explain why FE16 went so off the rails and forgot the tradition FE series message about coexistence, because what the fuck do you mean by "Humanity doesn't need Nabateans", after parroting for the entire game "Nabateans are to blame for the irrational world we live in" and blame "Nabatean blood" for everything wrong in Fodlan, without ever acknowledging the "evilness that lurks in the heart of men" (who aren't called Dimitri) ?

In a series that, albeit hazaphardly at times (FE8's manaketes feel forced in the lore! and the less is said about Nowi/Panne in FE13 the better we are), tried to push the "coexistence between all inhabitants of the land is the key to peace!" card - this Squenix direction feels all kind of wrong, especially when friendship with the divine beings (dragons) have been a staple of the franchise (Y!Tiki's number of alts, imo, is telling : for better or worse, Y!Tiki is, along with Marth, the figure of the franchise. She is a dragon, and she's a kid who wants to make friends. Sure it brings the loli crowd, but all those dragon children in the different games? They are a direct throwback to Y!Tiki!).

In a nutshell, I'd say the first crack was FE10's writing that made things seem like the Hero defeated a goddess and its subsequent wanking.

But I agree with you anon, FE15's change in direction and retcons were absolutely gunning for that Squenix "GoDs BaD" while keeping the "traditional" FE message which resulted in hypocrisy that showed in the writing but I guess no one really paid attention because FE15 has other issues too (I didn't before happening on FE16... even if I remember wondering why the fuck the game kept on hammering how BaD Duma was when we had people being asses right and left on their own).

FE Fodlan completely ignored the "we can coexist" message - save for subtext you can have where the optional lords who win the war and aren't Supreme Leader can have half/quarter-nabatean heirs through Flayn but her heritage is never ever mentionned in the ending cards - by completely shitting/ignoring the local dragons, they're blamed for everything wrong and don't get their voice to the chapter.

Masterful writing lol

I can't wait for the next game, let it be a remake (pls not Jugdral!!) or a new entry (Engage was developped alongside Fodlan, not after!) to see if IS will continue with the Squenix developments or return to their roots, even if they seem milquetoast, of "humans and lizards can hold hands".

---

NGL anon, during 2020/2021 and the daily "Supreme Leader was right though" threads in SF, I kind of realised that what I took for granted, aka "coexistence between humans and dragons!" being the message of FE in general, wasn't, even in what used to be the most serious board/thing.

FE as a series came to the West through FE7 where Dragons and Humans were at war, but ultimately the cast learns that dragons aren't evil incarnate and the best ending reveals that the big bad went mad because his dragon wife was killed and he tried to reunite with their dragon-human children he hid away for their safety.

So it was kind of surprising to see long-time, or at least not "Fodlan introduced" members of SF parroting the "well they can't live together" by buying the most ludicrous headcanon/fanon arguments you'd find in other series like "different lifespans" - this argument is pretty much non existent in the FE series, and I've never seen it opposed to Miccy's rule in Daien when, as a Heron Branded, she will outlive her citizens, or what, are we supposed to believe that Myrrh shouldn't interact with humans and remain in her forest because she will outlive humans, or is too "different" from them thus wouldn't have the same considerations?

FE13/14 brought the fandom wars of "new fans" vs "old fans", but FE Fodlan? Brought "casual JRPG gamer" vs "FE gamer" which usually boils down to "Supreme Leader fans" vs "everyone else".

Sure, we had the religion hate boner because the dragons in Fodlan verse made a "Church" with catholic imagery which is a deadly sin to some - but the "dragon blood is indeed the reason why everything sucks in the world" being parroted? "Dragons cannot have power over humans because of the sheer inbalance"? What, are you implying Nergal was forced by Aenir to mate with her twice or what? Ninian was oppressing Pherae in the endings where she marries Eliwood, and humans were finally liberated when she died?

Kana is, by nature, someone who will oppress humans because they're part dragon and their blood will bring strife to the world?

So unless IS doesn't fully commit to one narrative - because yes, for all of its flak, FE Fodlan still takes time, when it remembers, to portray Nabateans in a relative positive light when it comes to them as characters and in the general background, it's just that, they're never given a voice when it comes to discussing about the plot - we're bound to have this hypocrisy :

Dragons BaD bcs Humanity Fuck Yeah

and

Dragons and Humanity can coexist and make babies for scalies/monsterfuckers out there because acceptance/diversity is a way for peace.

[masterqwertster]

Ok don’t publish it if you don’t have to but man this weekend is bumming me right out with this “

Yeah, there is certainly some aggression going on against people wishing for resurrection because others find it a poignant narrative that a sacrifice can't be undone, that it lasts and has consequences, that it puts weight to the stakes. And they think that coming back to life after specifically doing something you know will 100% kill you cheapens sacrifice.

Personally, I think that being brought back after you willingly and knowingly and successfully gave your life for others tells a story of how much you're loved. It's your friends saying "Fuck that. You're going to live. We're all going to live. We'll keep dragging each other back until we can't anymore, so fucking be here and fight."

It also adds another level of desperation to be stronger, smarter, to not be caught like that ever again because who knows if you can get them back next time (and however many times you fail after that). Resurrections get harder ever time a person is brought back. This is part of what bit Scanlan's ass right before Bard's Lament: the Revivify didn't take, so the rest of Vox Machina brought in his daughter to call him back during the Resurrection (which he hated) and got the chance to be dicks about bringing him back with the dumb pranks, all of which led to setting Scanlan off. And sure, Bells Hells had that desperation to keep each other alive from the Bassuras fight, but that doesn't mean that the sentiment can't be further sharpened even when you've managed to steal back all the lives of your party members that she took.

Honestly, I think that just having Chet and FCG die against the Murder Machine of Otohan after Bells Hells specifically and successfully went to efforts to get stronger still ups the stakes even if both end up revived. "All our might and we still faced that loss. It would have been all of us if FCG didn't make that play. We still cannot face the enemy leadership head-on as we are. We must get stronger still."

And I really think there's some fun character development to be had in giving FCG a flesh body. Will he actually like what they've envied about the others? How does one handle a completely new body that they're grateful for (that they should be grateful for, otherwise they'd be dead) but is just so different from what they know? Yes, FCG had that last moment clarity that he was in fact already fully alive, but there's definitely some "alive in the flesh" things to explore.

And more faith to explore too. Like, did he get to meet the Changebringer and talk with her in the afterlife? The Raven Queen? Speaking of just being in the afterlife, what about meeting Eshteross again? The other members of the Division of Public Benefit that he killed?

Also, I'm not sure how big a fan I am of the heavy breakdowns that will happen if FCG isn't resurrected. Bells Hells is suffering pretty good as is and I'd like them to have some happiness inbetween all the Moon Bullshit. Conflict drives a story, but you need soft moments to wind it down between heavy moments.

Because truthfully, most of what you get from keeping FCG dead is a bunch of breakdowns in the party without it's most optimistic member who actually advocates for communication, which they all suck at for various personal reasons. And a push towards the Villain Arc path that, honestly, a few are walking just fine without FCG staying dead and/or can still be pushed further down it just by the fact that he decided to kill himself to save their asses when no one wants to let any of the others go.

I do think that as far as martyrdom goes, what FCG did took a nice step away from "giving my life because it's worth less than any one of theirs and I think dying for a cause will give me absolution for the people I rage killed" and into "giving my life because it will save them and I don't know what else to do that will save them." There are certainly posts that get into the distinction between those choices better than I have. Which is where I think the "best ending for FCG" idea comes from, as it happened under the "best" reasoning for FCG to martyr himself. And to a certain degree, people have decided that martyrdom was unavoidable for FCG or that he was just highly prone to it and this was a good time/way to do it.

Still doesn't change that a self-sacrificing character did in fact sacrifice themself, though. Or that it didn't have to be the end that FCG met.

And I understand to some degree how Everyone Comes Back to Life if You Try can feel like it undermines the stakes. Because if no one stays dead, what do you have to fear from walking into mortal danger? Everyone will be fine right? Which is wrong. There is still trauma in dying, even when you're brought back. The realization of mortality, the struggle to steal back a life when it's not just a quick prayer in the heat of battle. And the ever looming possibility that you do it right and it's still not enough to steal them back.

Also, from the wider in-the-game-world's perspective: Resurrection is rare as shit and only people with immense wealth, connections, and/or power even have a shot at it.

Even mechanically it's not easy. You have to mind time limits, expensive costs, body conditions, spell levels and slots, not to mention that the dice can always say no.

So yes, Bells Hells probably needs to go to less effort to Reincarnate FCG than they did to resurrect Laudna because all they're missing is components while they have the likes of Keyleth who kind of owe them for Moon Scouting and killing Otohan and should be able to provide.

[theplantbish]

Rating all of my Coral Island partners' 10 heart cutscenes

Trying to do this without spoiling what happens during the dates

Aaliyah 3/10 Didn't really have a romantic feel to it, could've been easily mistaken for just some random cutscene until the very end. The activity she had set up was... meh. Confessing her feelings was giving high school crush tbh

Chaem 1/10 I love her too much to give this cutscene a zero, but it had like no romantic feeling to it at all, not even a little. From all my partners hers is the only one where the player asks to kiss her, not the other way around. Without the kiss at the end it would've been just like any other heartevent, you could've shown me the whole thing without the last three seconds and I would've thought it was like idk seventh heart event idk

Kenny 8/10 Cute, romantic, he had set up a cute couples activity, the part of the island where it was set was pretty, he was blushing, adorable. I don't have screenshots of the love confession and I can't remember what he said :(

Macy 9/10 Beautiful setting, romantic, a proper date. She literally went 👉👈 kicking her feetsies while confessing her feelings. Also the letter she sent me beforehand asking me to a date was signed by her AND Stephen which umm the most adorable thing ever. Sadly Stephen wasn't actually part of the date

Mark 4/10 Honestly? Quite a disapointment, no romantic feeling basically at all. Some of the things he said while confessing his feelings were super cute and sweet, but up until then it was just... silly. Bonus points for 1) he was in his swimwear 👀 and 2) the kiss was kinda hot, made me go OH! 👀

Nina 8/10 Super adorable setting and she had prepared the cutest activity for us, dialogue was pretty cute, the date felt romantic right from the start. But she almost chocked?? like literally during the date which was random, to say the least. noooo don't die you're so sexy

Rafael 10/10 Perfect!! Cute!! Adorable!! Romantic!! Sweet!! Cute little activity and he had set up a spot for us, the way he confessed his feelings was the cutest thing ever. Also he kinda hinted that we could umm how should I put it... fuck. Okay not really but also kinda, like in a "okay are you just being considerate and a gentleman orrrrr? 👀" kinda way

Raj 7/10 It was fun, cute, very different from the others. Kinda surprising setup for Raj actually, not what I expected them to do. Before the confessing their feelings part it seemed more like two friends hanging out than a romantic date. But at the end they used the L word, instead of just saying they "have feelings for" or "like" me, which earns them a couple extra points

Scott 9/10 Really surprising, I did not see the eternal fratboy putting that much effort into a date coming. There wasn't even a slightest chance to mistake it for anything but a romantic date for even a second, like dude went in with setting the mood

Theo 8/10 Adorable, but definitely not the kinda first date I'd ever want to have irl lmao. But in game? Adorable, cute, heartwarming. Love confession part was lowkey intense like dude, first date. chill

[ask--eggman]

hey, im sorry if this is a sensitive topic but i cant stop thinking about it, do you recal your attempted suicide bombing in station square? do you recall what drove you to suicide? it must have been somthing awful if it pushed somone as brave and as strong as you to take your own life.. did anyone at all try to reach out? i doubt any of those so-called "herros" tryed to offer suport to somone undergoing sutch agony, again, you dont have to respond if you dont want to, but i truly want to know, and im shure the whole empire will suport you in whatever you were or are going through :)

I'm never one to lose hope and determination and give into defeat but that was just a time when it all got to me. I work so hard to accomplish my goals and put so much time, effort and passion into my plans but something comes along and ruins it, again and again. On that particular day, I'd finally reached my capacity for the disappointment, anger and stress. Not just for that day but for my entire lifetime.

Anyone else inferior and weaker than me would be broken down by failure much more often and much sooner, than the one time it pushed me too far. It wasn't really a conscious decision more than something that hit me in the spur of the moment. At first I just thought I'd at least blow Station Square up if nothing else. There would be some catharsis in that blue pest still not succeeding in saving their pathetic lives.

Oh but then of course the missile had to be a dud. Of course even that couldn't go right. So I just thought "Oh, fuck it all", and went to detonate it by hand. I knew I was going to die and I was going to happily take the whole city with me. Once I'd made my mind up, I felt happy, I had a blast trying to race Tails to that missile. I found myself begging for him to wait for me when he was ahead.

It was something to be determined to accomplish again, one I was sure nobody could ruin this time. One last glimmer of hope to succeed in something, one last thrill racing across the city in my Egg Mobile onward to destruction, then I'd be free from ever having to experience failure again. I'd go out having accomplished one part my plan of destroying Station Square, even if I didn't get to build the empire I always dreamed of.

I was tired of being the one who it all ended in destruction for, I wanted others to experience that devastation. For once, I wanted it to end with their destruction and my success and it seemed like the only way. But I obviously lost that race because here I am today. Well, that snapped me out of it and so I went back to trying to kill the little pest Tails who stopped me, since he's the one that actually deserves death really.

Nobody reached out to me and I didn't expect them to. They're used to breaking down everything I build and waiting for the next time I get back up to try to bring me down again and the cycle repeats. It's always just me alone to pick myself up and keep fighting in the end. But I don't need anyone else. I know if I keep at it, I'll succeed. So I try my hardest to fight to accomplish my dreams and not let my mind slip back into that place.

Anyway, enough about that.

The way I still came back from that and have only become stronger and more successful and determined over time just further proves my power! It's another of the many reasons why I deserve to have all of your support, admiration and praise and be your mighty emperor! So that's to be expected, you wouldn't have a choice either way, hehe~

[lelalyo]

Wyll doesn't just deserve more content, he deserves better content, in my humble opinion.

I know a lot of people were concerned about the change of category (is that the proper phrase?) about the Ansur part of his quest but I feel like that part needs changing to a degree. Primarily because it doesn't feel very Wyll specific.

I feel like it focuses more on how the Emperor is a scumbag then anything to do with Wyll.

I'm not a writer by any stretch of the imagination but I feel like you could've still had that confrontation with Ansur and the Emperor and had something that tied to Wyll like after you fight him, maybe Ansur sees some of himself in Wyll - a loyal protector - a strong guardian - a man of morals and maybe Ansur decides he doesn't want history to repeat itself. He doesn't want someone else to fall victim to the Emperor again so he gifts Wyll power or a weapon or something that could put him on par with Mizora so he doesn't need her help anymore.

He held out, he endured, he stayed true to himself and finally, someone recognizes that, truly acknowledges his efforts and now he has power that is truly his, that he earned in his own right by being who he is.

Maybe then you could tie that into a climax, a final confrontation with Mizora. Maybe instead of killing his father in the Iron Throne, she simply kidnaps him from there before before you arrive to make Wyll panic that we were too late and something has happened to his father.

Maybe Mizora appears at camp with his father as a bargaining chip, mocks him for going on a wild goose chase and how amusing it was to watch. She could threaten his father to make Wyll more compliant, to try force him to resign the pact but this time is different.

This time Wyll, the Blade of Frontiers, isn't the one who's at a disadvantage. Maybe you could have a Durge vs Orin situation - a 1v1, duel to the death with strict rules of engagement to be fraught at the foot of the hill where this all began - if Mizora wins, Wyll resigns and can never break free from the hells. If Wyll wins, Mizora dies and his father goes free.

Maybe Mizora uses a loop hole in the duel's rules to cheat when she's near defeat and that's when you and the rest of your party jump in to keep Mizora's lackeys at bay while Wyll finishes her off and then a cutscene of the final blow, of Wyll's victory. Finally, he's a free man and his father sees him for who he is. His actions said everything they needed to.

I don't know, like I said, not a writer in any capacity and I feel like I'm just getting lost in my own musing - there's lots of things I didn't consider, like surely a situation like this would have point holes everywhere, especially since I don't know the first thing about DnD and it's lore but my original point was that I feel like Wyll needs a moment - that character defining moment that most of the other characters have - that time for him because he is a good character, I really like him and I hope that Larian listens.

I appreciate all the hard work they do with all the patches, never doubt that but I've always felt like Wyll's story needs more attention and it is important - he's a main character, an origin, he's a key feature of the game and that should take priority.

I love all the new features that they add (to a degree) but this is a core issue and I'd much prefer they work on the things that matter and add the fluff later.

Just my two cents though, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

Edit: I just remembered that devils go back to the hells when they die top side, right? (See, what did I say? Plot holes) but maybe it wouldn't matter since Wyll would've lived a long life by the time Mizora pops up again. Maybe she swears revenge on the Ravengard's and bam, plot for the next game. If there is one. LMAO

[captainmera]

Mera, i honestly dont know you put up and manage so many people asking you for stuff-

like today, ive only ever gotten one request (that i realised was a full on commission once i accepted) which i then spent atleast 3 HOURS on. not even to get paid T-T

so i just gotta say on behalf of the Mera crew, thank you so much for putting up with us and our shit.

Thanks I appreciate inte that. 🙇💗

I hope they weren't rude, that you still had fun, and that you learned something from it on how you want to proceed going forward with people requesting things from you.

I dont think people who approach me are shit or anything, it can be a little rude or disrespectful at times, but I boil that down to a few people. It's not the majority. Most people are nice and behave like they would if this had been in person.

I like drawing things, and it helps me fill my day with something.

Sure, It can be a little hurtful when people take advantage of that by just throwing a request/ptompt at me like they're putting paper into a copy machine, without consideration or empathy for me and my time.

Some people come in with the energy of "since you have the time you should do things for me, you're nobody without my attention, and if you don't appease me I'll be upset and think you're a selfish bum." Which is, yknow, unpleasant to put it mildly.

Like, sure, I've put myself here. I post things online, and I like when people are interested in my work - who wouldn't be? I do think it's fun to take prompts. It gives me cause to be social and creative at the same time. But just because I'm willing and open for something doesn't mean it gives people an allowance to be entitled to demand things. They speak as though they have paid me enough with their approach alone.

Yes, I spend between 10min-5hours on pieces depending on if they're doodles, fully rendered pieces, or comics.

I think it is especially a bit entitled to go "I NEED PART TWO GIMME!!!!!!" Right after something like a comic, as though I didn't just finish something that took a while to make. It's not very empathetic.

But I don't take it to heart. People show who they are in their actions. I'm within my right to ignore, block, or politely decline. It doesn't serve me to sulk or get sad over people getting mad, calling me names, or get too pushy about what I should or shouldn't draw.

I understand its excitement, but please behave, yknow? You're not a toddler at the toy isle who hasn't developed a temperament resistance yet. Some people, I think, have an issue with instant gratification.

Have some respect in how you treat and speak with people online. The way you treat others reflects who you are.

If you wouldn't yell at someone irl to make you something, don't do it here either. I promise it doesn't reflect well on you, and I don't care that this is online and we are time zones apart; I will judge you. As will others.

You don't treat people like that.

And I won't let anyone treat me like that either. I've had enough of that in my life, and I'm tired of people calling me gullible and dumb for being polite and kind or giving people a benefit of doubt.

What I have is self-respect. It has taken me a lifetime to build it up, and I still wobble a little on whatever or not I can defend myself sometimes when people are mean. But nowadays, I can more confidently say, "You don't get to treat me like that. It hurts, and it is mean."

If you are the sort to take advantage of someone who is willing to do things for the fun of it, and who don't mind the effort it takes sometimes: then you are most unwelcome here and I host no guilt in removing you however I see fit.

But, like I said, the majority of people who approach me are friendly and level-headed, even when they're awkward or excited.

There is a difference between; "I need X so give me X!! Raarghargh Im going to die!!!" And "aaaa! I really enjoyed Z, if you have the time, I'd love to see more of Z!"

You know? <:T

Just food for thought I suppose.

I hope, though, that you keep doing right by yourself and don't let others discourage you.

[eyezdrawz]

im bored so im dropping poetry for y'all to see, there are prob spelling mistakes but whatever, poetry under cut TW: BLOOD, ROT, SUICIDE, DEATH, SHOOTINGS, GORE

I worked really hard on these so I'd appreciate your reblogs and comments <3

Collection of poetry by me

The liar’s real identity – Eyez

I look back on my life, cliche like others

But I wonder where I went wrong to get to who I am

And I wonder where I went right to stay who I am

Why did I meet these people who tortured me

And Who have I wronged to torture myself

Lonely nights and lively days

But I control this so why don't I change

To feel is to live and to live is to feel

But we all live so that one day we can all die

What am I feeling?

I ask everyone yet no one answers

Who am I supposed to be?

I ask no one yet everyone answers

Sensitive to everyone’s thoughts of deathbut not sensitive enough to care about yours anymore

I should but it hurts to see what has your thoughts deceived to be

Now I lie

Lie about love

Lie about pain

And all your love was shoved into vain

You can’t forgive me

And I can’t forgive myself

So let me put our hidden memories on top that dusty shelf

Educational Boredom – Eyez

Walls surrounding her

Wanting her

Trustfully closing in

On all solivagant souls

biblichor on her graphite-covered hands

Clinomania stuck in her head

Moon-struck faces fade away

Yet all she wants is to be successful

Tears fall down her smiling face

Unable to feel until it's too late

Stamina wasted on walking nowhere

Why can’t she move?

She is

Just in the wrong direction

Peacefully walking into her own grave

Say goodbye to a person who loved her

She didn't like to say I love you back

A sister in hand one in another

Justice paying a toll for one and the other

School stringing drama together

Instead of sewing study's goals

Breathing notes and spying books

Warm sweaters and itching-raw tank tops

Jumping clues go out to life

Where will I lead without any strife

Scared to love

I don't want to feel you

Scared to die

I don't want to be you

Infinite hallways lead to everywhere

Unlock the doors

Logophile, she continues to read

Humanity to one person loosing hope – Eyez

Typing things no one will read

Singing things no one will hear

Making things no one will see

Being someone something will fear

Humans are unknown yet we think we know everything

We ruminate about the world yet we dont explore it

So much to see yet not enough time to do it

We love to waste time and momentum

We love to waste effort and spirit

Hating the idea of being bullies while we bully others

It takes a special type of hypocrisy to be decievingly known

Is someone truly good?

Is something truly bad?

Is it the way we look at things?

Is it the perspective that we have to change?

Why not our actions

Why not our thoughts

Why not our people

Why not your bots

jolting up at 3 am because you heard a feather fall

Ignoring the screaming at 1 pm because you heard those sirens call

We’re to used to the bad

Take the shootings for granite

But when something is different

When something is new

Hiddin in our corrupt minds, you want to ban it

Bodies falling

Teenagers screaming

Parents begging

Stomach wailing

Its their heads hitting the ground

Its their minds in the clouds

Karma beating those who did not behave

But only after their scuicidal minds hit the grave

Your heart is not the symbol of love – Eyez

Moon shines on different roofs

Faking a smile yet loving the truth

The undead roaming like the unspoken history

Questions haunt the earth behind blind eyes

The vessel for our souls

The beast is our bodies

Shapeshifting organs twist and turn

In the bloody home we call the heart

Living the years looking like corpses

Orderly chaos consumed by our voices

Yet we have yet to rot

Living the dream in the grave you dug for me

You living the nightmare thinking its your fantasy

Good events turn to bad

Just one chime of the clock and we all go mad

The older the mind the stranger the hunger

The younger the truth the more likely the liar

Gruesome births and calm deaths

Become to newborn version of the generation

One by one we all fall apart

Fading piece by piece into extinction

Vulgar words even more the vulgar sentence

Death and love become your only special entrance

The alternative - Eyez

Sleep here in the ground

Blood behind your mind

Secrets revealed night before

You where fine just days ago

I look away from the grave

Your new home I made

I see your parents

Grieving privately

They search my eyes

Looking for my excuses

I have none to give

I raise my hands

A sign for surrender

A sign for peace

Blood drips down them

I wish my love not ceased

Weary needs, Guilt in my eyes

Sorry please don't make innocent cries

[rosanna-writer]

a simple name, and everything has changed

Summary: we said hello and your eyes look like coming home, Rhys POV chapters Or: Rhys's slow realization that he's mated to Prythian's most chaotic human (and how much he loves her for it) Warnings: implied/referenced sexual assault Word Count: ~3k

I decided to pull together some of my notes on what's going through Rhys's head and write a few Rhys POV chapters of we said hello and your eyes look like coming home! This is his POV of chapter six: this mad, mad love makes you coming running, which is his reunion with Feyre Under the Mountain.

Read on AO3, or you can find it under the cut.

The bond shifted as Feyre woke up. She was too tired to shield, each stab of pain from her broken ribs shooting across the thread tying us together. My own hand flew to my chest. Thank the Cauldron this hadn't happened until I'd finished enough rounds in Amarantha's bedroom that she was sleeping like the dead. A small mercy, but at least it went quicker now that I knew what she liked.

Even with her head swimming, Feyre was assessing her injuries and scrambling to her feet, like a prizefighter gearing up for a second round. All tenacity, which wouldn't be infuriating if she weren't hellbent on putting herself in danger. I winnowed to her cell.

At the sight of her covered in bruises, I couldn't hold back a snarl. She shouldn't have come down here—humans were so easy to hurt. "What the hell are you doing here, Feyre?" I said.

"I wasn't going to leave you down here to rot," she said. Her voice was strong, as if she hadn't just been unsteady on her feet a few seconds ago.

There was another bolt of pain from her broken nose, and I tamped down on the instinct to summon up a scrap of magic to heal every last injury. Everything in me was screaming to just winnow her back to Velaris, consequences be damned.

"You were supposed to be safe. If nothing else, that was the one thing—"

Yet again, she dug her heels in, cutting me off. "Who did you kill, Rhys?"

"A human woman about your size," I forced myself to say. I'd killed for her, and she had a right to know, even if it made me a monster in her eyes. "I mangled her corpse so it was unrecognizable, glamoured it to smell like you, and left it for Tamlin to find. Amarantha was delighted I'd sent him a clear message to think twice about breaking the curse. I didn't want anyone to come looking for you."

At first, she said nothing. The swelling and broken bones made her expression hard to read, but if I wasn't mistaken, she was thoughtful, not horrorstruck. I didn't understand it.

"What you're telling me is that you felt strongly enough about me to kill on my behalf after one night, but you didn't think I'd come back for you?"

That wasn't the point. I wasn't the point. All of this was to keep her safe, and for some reason I couldn't fathom, she was determined to get herself killed. Despite my best efforts, I was likely going to watch my mate die in front of me, sooner rather than later. Just the thought of it had darkness leaking from me.

"You have no idea how relieved I was when you got to Ve— When you got home. All of this was worth it if you were safe. But now you're not."

"You clearly think you're worthless, so If it makes you feel better, tell yourself I'm doing this for all of Prythian instead," she snapped, blue-grey eyes flashing. I stilled. "I can't go back now, so help instead of lecturing me."

For a moment, I said nothing, just blinked in surprise. I hadn't known what to expect coming down to her cell, but not for her to be upset with me. A horrible new possibility bloomed in the back of my mind—that she'd seen Velaris and discovered that somehow I hadn't protected my people as well as I'd thought and that she rightfully considered me a failure.

"Did you think I haven't been helping you this whole time?" I said, sounding pathetic even to my own ears. "Tamlin gave her your name, not me. While those faeries were beating you, I broke into their minds and ensured they didn't leave any permanent damage. It was the best I could do without them realizing I was in their heads. There were too many of them for me to also get into yours and take away your pain. I'm…sorry it wasn't enough."

She sighed and leaned back against the wall, the fire gone from her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was small. "Thank you for all of it. I didn't— It's not that— I just…needed to know that you're in my corner. That's enough. You're enough."

I didn't understand Feyre—and odds were, I'd never get the chance to—but I was suddenly very certain that someone important had abandoned her. Maybe more than once.

One day, I'd kill whoever had done that to her.

But now, we had a task at hand, and I needed her to know I was on her side and always would be. I'd do everything I could for her, even if Under the Mountain, that wasn't much.

"May I?" I said, reaching a hand towards her face.

She nodded, and I swept my thumb along the small patch of unblemished skin on her cheek. For the first time in weeks, I was touching my mate.

The crackle of electricity along the bond told me she was thinking along the same lines.

Fifty years Under the Mountain made it a wonder to touch someone I wanted to touch. It didn't matter that it was nothing more than the pad of my thumb brushing her cheek, the feeling was intoxicating. I'd never wanted to put my hands all over someone like this.

And I could feel that she wanted it, too.

"I can't heal everything without arousing suspicion, but I won't let a crooked nose mar the most beautiful face in Prythian," I said, sounding more like the person I'd been before that bitch had trapped me here.

For a moment, Feyre looked too stunned to speak, which was ridiculous. It wasn't as if I'd been lying when I'd called her beautiful. "Are you flirting with me? Now?" she said, her voice seeming to rise several octaves.

I shrugged. "If not now, when?" She seemed to accept that answer. And the flirting had felt good—and probably kept us both somewhat sane—but I couldn't keep ignoring her obvious injuries. "I have to set it in place first. It will hurt," I added.

"Just do it. I won't scream," she said with a defiant lift of her chin.

By the Cauldron, if you dropped this woman in the middle of the Blood Rite, she'd make it to the top of Ramiel with no killing magic, just sheer stubbornness alone. I'd known plenty of human warriors, but they didn't hold a candle to Feyre. And she was my mate.

"So stoic. Are you sure I'm on the only Illyrian here?"

But she just looked at me expectantly—even a bit impatiently, if I was being honest—and I wanted to laugh. Nothing stopped her. With a bittersweet twinge of pride, I thought about how easily she must have slotted herself in with Cassian and Azriel.

True to her word, Feyre was silent as I pushed her nose back into place and reached for the scrap of magic I was still allowed, thanking the Mother that it was sufficient to heal Feyre's nose. Her grey-blue eyes just held mine through all of it.

"Thanks."

Once her pain abated, I could breathe easier. I kissed the tip of her nose and moved closer, her scent drawing me in. Or at least, the scent of the glamour hiding the bond. I drank it in anyway, resting my forehead against hers. That lavender and pear scent had haunted my dreams for years now, and it had kept me from breaking.

More clear-headed, I straightened up after a few moments. Amarantha wouldn't be asleep forever. "We need to plan while I have time with you."

"How did you manage to get down here for so long anyway?" Feyre said, immediately wincing. But at least this time, the movement in her face didn't send more pain lancing across the bond.

"I tired her out," I said, forcing a smile. Feyre still looked horrified, and I refused to burden her with this. I made a gesture to indicate it was no big deal and hoped she believed me.

Feyre started to pace. I leaned against the wall and watched her for a moment, just appreciating the view. I'd heard her describe me as feline in her thoughts often enough, but I don't think she really understood that in this cell, she was the one who moved like a caged tiger.

She didn't hesitate to get to the heart of the matter. "There's nothing stopping them from attacking me again, is there?"

"Whatever I'd have to subject you to in order to get you out of this cell might be worse," I said. It was an unpleasant truth, but there was no use in talking around it. "I may be able to spare you pain, but not humiliation."

"What are you thinking?"

"I can keep you with me if I treat you as a toy to taunt Tamlin with. Dress you up, degrade you in front of your so-called beloved, and make it clear to everyone else that I don't share."

I wished I had more to offer her, but I'd been turning this over in my mind for hours and hadn't come up with something better. I half-expected her to snap at me again, just for suggesting it. I wouldn't blame her for it.

She didn't, though, just shrugged and said, "There are worse fates."

I was glad she hadn't panicked, but it still seemed horribly insufficient. I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. "The trouble is, it may cause complications when we all get out of here."

"Complications?"

I was obvious enough to me, but maybe not to her. Since Calanmai, I'd been dreaming of what a future for us could look like when we got out of here but perhaps….perhaps she didn't want that, too. I reminded myself that she hadn't known about mating bonds until a few weeks ago. Feyre hadn't grown up thinking she could have a mate one day, and now she'd permanently accepted one without realizing what was happening.

If she didn't want anything to do with me, I understood completely. She deserved better. She deserved choices.

"A human will have enough trouble being respected as Lady of the Night Court, if…you want that," I said, hating how uncertain I sounded. I caught the look on her face that told me she'd noticed, and now wasn't the time to talk about it. I pushed ahead before she could interrupt. "Parading you like that in front of everyone here will make it worse, even after revealing it's a ruse."

Obviously frustrated, she just paced faster. It was an effort not to push past her shields and read her thoughts on the matter. She could tell me herself, no matter how curious I was.

Then abruptly she froze and said, "What about my maidenhead?"

Cold horror gripped me. The thought hadn't crossed my mind before, but I'd been foolish not to have seen it. Cauldron boil and fry me, Feyre was so young.

"Your maidenhead? Cauldron Feyre, on Calanmai, did I—"

"You didn't. And before you ask, Tamlin didn't either," she said, voice flat. That was strange—I hadn't been thinking of Tamlin at all. "But no one else needs to know that if you can ensure Tamlin and Lucien won't expose the lie. Tell everyone you intend to make an event of taking my virginity. It would give you a reason to make sure no one touches me and still leave me down here."

Brilliant. She was utterly brilliant, and I could have kissed her right then and there. Stubborn and strategic.

"Now there's an idea," I said, pressing my fingers together under my chin. The rest of the plan formed in my mind easily, the pieces coming together. "It would work, if only for a short while. They'll question why I haven't just done it if it drags on too long, but I'll take whatever time we can get. I'll ward the cell and have someone trusted bring a change of clothes and body paint for when Amarantha drags you out for housework."

Her smile could only be described as mischievous. If I wasn't mistaken, by some miracle, she was flirting back. "And of course you'll have to come down here frequently to ensure the paint is still intact."

"It would be far too important a task to delegate," I purred in that way I knew she liked.

Feyre gave me one more smile then resumed her pacing; I was beginning to suspect she never sat still. "And the riddle? Has she given it any consideration?" she said, all business again.

"Not yet, and before you ask, we've all been barred from helping you solve it or telling you the first task. I have her ear, and I'll keep pushing her to make plans that play to your strengths."

She nodded, and I shared everything I could think of that might give her some small advantage Under the Mountain. I couldn't arm her with weapons, just information. It was better than nothing. As I deposited the information in her head, I was careful not to push deeper into her mind accidentally. She deserved privacy.

We had a tentative plan in place, and I doubted Amarantha would stay asleep much longer. Swallowing my disgust, I brushed against her mental shields just briefly enough to reassure myself she was still asleep without alerting her.

I turned my attention back to Feyre quickly. "I don't have to go right this moment, but soon."

She nodded, not quite able to maintain that same stoicism from before. We were both suddenly very aware that I'd have to leave her here in this cell. The thought of it was already ripping me apart.

Feyre was impossible to leave. But if I had to force myself to do it, at least I'd leave her with something.

"Feyre, do you mind if I…Could— Could you please come here and take a seat?" I said.

She eyed me curiously but did as I said, sitting down on the pallet of hay that had been left for her. I knelt behind her, and she kept watching me over her shoulder. The confusion was still written all over her face, as if she had no idea that she was the only one in the world I'd ever willingly get on my knees for.

"That bruise towards the top of your ribs is going to make it uncomfortable to lift your arm, at least for another day or two," I said, sliding the tie off the end of her braid.

As gently as I could, I ran my fingers through her golden brown hair, smoothing out the tangles but mostly just savoring the feel of the strands against my fingers. Given the opportunity, I'd card my fingers through her hair for hours.

But we didn't have hours, so I started to braid. It had been centuries since I'd done this for anyone—Mor had been the first, when she'd insisted I learn because she didn't have any female friends in the Court of Nightmares, then my sister when she'd been a youngling, and eventually even Cassian when his hair had been longer and we'd been bored to tears in the war-camps and desperate for a laugh. And now Feyre.

"I won't be there if you wake up and vomit tonight, so consider this my way of holding your hair back for you," I said softly. I'd felt her nightmares, watched through the bond as she'd emptied her stomach into the toilet, and spent too many nights wishing I could be there for her.

It wasn't enough, but she needed to know she wasn't alone.

I tied off the end of her braid, and she turned to face me so we we sitting knee to knee "Thank you," she said. "And you have a lifeline, too, you know. Use it."

She tugged on the bond, and I nodded, unable to talk about this. It was something I couldn't bear to burden her with, not when she was looking at me so sadly. I was feeling horribly insufficient again. I'd done something for her, I realized, but maybe there was more she needed to hear me say.

"Don't think I'm not still upset with you, but while we can speak face-to-face, I should say that you were brilliant in that throne room. It was a clever bit of bargaining. And I know you were training before, but that much tenacity can't be taught. It's an innate gift."

She smiled. I memorized the sight of it because I'd made her smile. At least I was good for something.

"That's the nicest way anyone's called me stubborn," she said.

Somehow, I was smiling, too. Under the Mountain, a real smile felt like an impossibility. But Feyre had made it happen.

She stood and held her hand out to me, as if she was ready to lead me out from this place. I took it and got to my feet, desperate to follow her.

"Stay safe," she whispered, ridiculous as it was when she'd just thrown herself into the line of fire in that throne room.

"You too," I said.

I wanted to kiss her goodbye, but my eyes landed on the swelling in her lips. Even the slightest pressure against that might hurt, and I wouldn't risk causing her pain.

And besides, Feyre Archeron was the Queen of Night. A beating and a cell didn't change that, and she deserved to be treated like it. And I was still a High Lord of Prythian, even Under the Mountain. I bent at the waist and kissed the back of her hand, then winnowed away.

Before summoning Nuala and Cerridwen, I took a moment to breathe. On the other end of the bond, Feyre—brilliant, brave, unstoppable Feyre—was already thinking about makeshift weapons.

We were going to get out of here.

[toomuchracket]

what about birthday party! matty before you get together? maybe you bring another guy around and he says or does something that makes you upset and you tell him he ought to just go home and you’ll call him tomorrow and matty is immediately consoling you as you apologize for bringing the vibe down. he’s getting you another glass of wine and rubbing your shoulder the rest of the night until you fall asleep on him. he asks everyone to be quiet while he picks you up and tucks you into his bed. and when you wake up, you’re surrounded by his smell and his sheets and you’re a bit confused but really really comforted and it gets you spiraling a bit about how much better he treats you than that guy you’re with.

i think this happens not long after you and matty become friends in 2015; pre-paris trip, not long after you move to london. you've been seeing a guy quite casually, and it's more of a fwb situation than proper dating, but you like him and he seems to like you, so you bring him to matty's for casual drinks and a catch-up with your friends (matty's chill externally, but there's a weird, somewhat unprecedented feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he looks at the guy and you together). but you bringing him turns out to be a colossal mistake - the guy's just so visibly bored the whole time, making no effort to talk to any of your friends and shooting down both their and your attempts to include him in conversation. after about an hour and a half, he just stands up and says "right, let's go", and you're like "oh... really?", to which he's like "well i've met your friends now, like you wanted, so we can just go back to mine". mind you, this is in front of everyone; the rest of the conversations die out as everyone listens in in shock, and you go bright red but you stand your ground like "well, i'd actually quite like to stay out a little bit longer, so...", and the guy scoffs and says "why?", and you're like "because i'm having a nice time, that's why. actually, maybe you going is a good thing, because i'm sure i'd have a better time without having to compensate for you to everyone". and like, you're getting a little bit upset (angry tears welling up), but he still makes no effort to be nice, just goes "well, bye then. will you phone me tomorrow?", to which you're like "nope. goodbye" before he scoffs again and leaves.

as soon as the door slams, you - lip still quivering as though you're about to cry - turn to everyone like "i'm so sorry about that, i really am. i didn't think he'd be so rude" and they respond so nicely like "babe, it's alright, it's not your fault, he's just a dick who isn't good enough for you". but that kind of makes you worse, and the tears start to fall a little bit; matty pulls you up from the sofa and leads you to the kitchen like "come on, let's get you another drink, yeah?", and shushes you as you continue apologising to him for bringing that dick to his party. in the kitchen, he hugs you tightly (trying to ignore how perfectly you seem to fit against his chest) and says "sweetheart, please don't cry, it's honestly alright. he had shit hair anyway, it's no loss for you", which makes you laugh so hard you forget to be upset. and you kiss matty's cheek and say "thank you, you're a darling", so he kisses yours and says "you're too sweet to me. now - let me get you another wine" - you lean against the countertop as he does, striking up a conversation with him about your next respective projects and their influences, a conversation that continues when you return to the living room sofa together. by your next glass, you're curled up half-against matty, him tracing patterns comfortingly into your shoulder and smiling at the way your eyes begin to flutter closed; you're so content and comfortable next to him that you drift off to sleep as soon as you put down your glass.

matty initially shushes everyone so as to not wake you, but then has the bright idea to just carry you to the nearest bedroom and let you nap there while the party continues. it's a great idea, until he gently lays you on the bed and thinks "shit, this is my room. she's in my bed. and she looks so... right, sleeping there"; with a final caring glance at you, he runs back to the kitchen for a drink because jesus christ these feelings are confusing and he'd rather not get caught up in them right now. unbeknownst to matty, though, he's having the same feelings you have when you wake up forty-five minutes later refreshed as hell; it takes you a minute to place where you are, all warm and cosy and a little bit groggy from the sleep, but then you register the familiar aroma of washing powder and aftershave and cigarettes from the sheets surrounding you and think "shit, this is matty's room. i'm in matty's bed. and that was the best sleep i've had in months". and as if you'd cued him, matty appears in the doorway, smiling softly like "hi, sweetheart. you feeling alright? hope you don't mind me bringing you in here. figured you needed the rest, and i wanted you to be as comfy as possible" - you smile back like "what i said about you earlier is true, healy, you are a darling. thank you. you're too kind. and i need to know what mattress you've got because honestly it's so comfy like genuinely what the fuck". matty just giggles - your heart flutters - and says "come on, i'll tell you in the kitchen while i make you a cuppa. or get you another wine. whatever you want, sweetheart", and you're kinda overwhelmed at how sweet he is - your previous guy, the one who fucked off earlier, has never been so nice to you. in fact, you can't remember if any guy ever has. anyway, matty holds out his hand; you take it and follow him to the kitchen again, the two of you both biting back smiles and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomachs. and that's how it all starts for the two of you, the beginnings of the crush that develops into the relationship we all know and love <3

[thereismusicinmysoul]

Work was closed today because of an ice storm, so I took the unexpected day off to finally finish the pleated wrap skirt I've been working on since early November! I got really rambly about the whole thing so here's a picture of the finished product and I'll drop the rest below the cut.

This project came about because I've been watching The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty with some friends and I DESIRE a swooshy skirt. While I didn't follow any patterns and wasn't setting out to make the same exact style of skirt, it was definitely influential. (This skirt brought to you by numerous tutorial videos, including one on Chinese mamianqun's and one on Korean hanbok's, and an absolute refusal to actually follow anyone's instructions. No pattern, we die like men)

It's been almost 10 years since I've done any sewing, so I decided to buy sheets from the thrift store so that I wouldn't cry as hard if things went horribly or I had to trash the project. (Don't get me wrong, I still cried. Because Oh Golly did things go wrong. But it wasn't as tragic as if I'd used full price fabric from Joann's, ya feel?) So from there the idea grew from "pleated wrap skirt" (my rationale: I don't have to be precise in my measurements, straight hem, but still lots of swoosh) to "make this skirt out of a queen size top sheet with as little waste as possible" because who doesn't love a challenge?

....and oh what a challenge it ended up. I plotted things out in my notebook, planned how I would cut everything, and oh let me tell you: rationally I knew how big the sheet was. But laying it out to cut it? So huge. So much fabric. It covered my entire bedroom floor. All of this going into a single skirt oh god what have I gotten myself into? But this part actually went the smoothest of the whole process! Because...

I wasn't doing normal pleats. Since I was trying to make the swooshiest dress with as much of the fabric as I had, I did "deep pleats" which is. A normal pleat but if you shove more fabric inside the pleat. No one wanted to explain to me exactly how to do this. The one person I found who did gave me MATH about it. And boy am I bad at math. Used a pillowcase to practice and wrap my head around how the math worked (the intangible makes no sense to me, I must hold it in my hands), sorted the math, started pleating for real! Measured my pinned pleats and it came up way shorter than anticipated. Have I mentioned it's been a hot minute since I've sewn? Also this was my first attempt ever at pleats. SO! I unpinned everything, made my deep pleats slightly less deep, pinned them all up again, and then blessedly listened to my Grammy's advice to baste the pleats first. Because horror of horrors, my measurements were right the first time and now my fabric was too long for the waistband I'd already put Quite A Lot Of Effort Into. Like, it's a wrap skirt. I would've just made do. But no. It wouldn't even fit.

Within this process, I sewed together my three skirt panels, put in a pocket (oh the choices I made. This pocket did not survive to the completion of the skirt because it was BAD. I was terrified that the fabric wouldn't hold up to the weight of me dripping my phone into it and covered the ENTIRE pocket in interfacing. This would be fine if I'd wanted it to fuck up the way the skirt lay, but this was not in fact what I wanted. I am however very proud of the placement I worked out for it, it sits inside one of the pleats so it isn't visible), hemmed the WHOLE FUCKING THING (look. Again. I knew it was a lot of fabric. But it did not occur to me that I would be hemming fucking 240" across the bottom, plus 30" up either side. I used ALL of my pins to accomplish this), and made a very lovely waistband and ties.

Now it is at this point that I went out of town for thanksgiving, remembered I had other Christmas crafting plans, started a new job working more hours, and left this skirt to languish until a few weeks ago when I finally had the heart to rip out all of those pleats, remembered I wanted to redo the pocket while I was here (and let me tell you, I needn't have worried about the strength of the pocket. I had that fucker in there GOOD. I think it took longer picking out that single pocket than it took taking out all of the pleats), and then set about redoing everything.

Now something you may not know about me is I exist in somewhat of a state of chaos. I try to write things down to negate this, but uh. Guess who didn't write down where she left off, and couldn't decipher the mad scientist notes that made sense in the heat of the moment, but not several months later? That would be me. Thankfully I was able to sort things out, get the pocket put back in, got the pleats pinned in record time, and praise whatever deity you may recognize, it was the right length this time! So this afternoon, I attached it to the waistband, did a very lovely "stitch in the ditch" (that I had to take out because something got fucked up in the back and it wouldn't lay right. I never regretted how closely I matched the thread to the fabric more than I did in that moment), REDID all that stitching, and now I have a skirt!

Ultimately, I don't actually know if I'll wear it. I no longer own many tops that lay well with a skirt without making me hate my body, and I don't know that I like the length. Maybe a shopping trip and cutting off several inches (...oh god I'll have to re-hem it...) will make me like it on myself better, but even if I don't and I never wear it, this has been a really fun and fulfilling project! I'm satisfied just with having completed it and I've learned a lot in the process! And hey, for going into this refusing to follow a pattern, with a goal of "use the entire sheet in the skirt" I think it came out pretty nicely. Plus, if nothing else, I can pleat like an absolute pro now.

[ideas-on-paper]

Thoughts on Tron: Identity (quick review)

Finally, I closed the biggest gap in my Tron education: I played Tron: Identity at last!

And let me say, it was an amazing experience - short, but amazing.

I really love that the game digs into the "spiritual" themes of Tron, like the Users being akin to gods for the programs. At the same time, it's kind of funny since all of the programs on the Arq server are ISOs, so none of them were written by any Users - technically, they don't have any gods at all, since they spawned out of nowhere. Still, despite having no higher-ordained function, they're looking for purpose by organizing themselves, and some of them - like Prinz - even turn to the Users for guidance. (I guess programs are not too dissimilar from Users in that regard…)

Also, I really enjoyed the inclusion of the Automata - I love the idea of a faction of programs wanting to evolve beyond the predetermined parameters of the Users, and who place greater value on finding their own path and information being free to access for everyone. (I'm a big fan of AIs valuing their otherness, if you can't tell. xD)

Nevertheless, I think that the theme of control of information/information as power present in the game is very relevant, probably more so now than ever. In the age of the internet, the value of information and data will only increase, and whoever holds them will have control over pretty much everything - and wherever there is power, you can count on someone being there to abuse it.

Aside from this, Tron: Identity also has some pretty existentialist themes, like dealing with the realization that God has abandoned you and that knowledge is sometimes more of a burden than a boon. I can relate to both of these very well, and I love the way they implemented this little bit of philosophy into the game.

From a gameplay perspective, Tron: Identity was my first visual novel, and I have to say I quite enjoyed it - due to the nature of the story, I found myself thinking really hard about some decisions, and to my own surprise, I actually really liked the puzzle minigames intermingled in between. (I'm usually not that big on puzzle games; I think that's because most of the time, there's only one correct way to solve the puzzles, so I'm glad that the minigames in Identity allow for multiple approaches.)

[Spoilers from this point onwards!]

Still, I somehow feel like I got the worst ending possible - Proxy took off with Prinz, Ada turned to voxels from Cass's explosion, and Grish was royally pissed at me. xD In the end, I didn't have much of a choice but to derezz Grish - I considered handing over Cass to him just to keep both of them alive, but I couldn't bring myself to betray Cass. Sorry, Grish, but I had to protect my precious baby. xD

However, from what I've read in some guides, it could've gone much, much worse - if you try to stop Proxy from taking Prinz, you will accidentally hit Prinz with your disc. I was considering to defend Prinz, but I was worried about him being in the line of fire, so I didn't take that choice. (Good call on that one, I guess... ^^')

I suppose 3/5 survivors isn't the worst you can do (since Sierra can't die anyway), but maybe I'll do another run in the future to see some of the other outcomes.

Either way, Tron: Identity is a fantastic addition to the Tron franchise, and you can really tell that Mike Bithell put a lot of love, effort, and care into the story. I just hope we'll get a sequel to it soon, and that your decisions from the first game will have an impact on the second. (When I freed Sierra, I was kinda hoping he would help you out as an ally later, so that's something I'd really like to see.)

[kennys-parka-jacket]

K2 week 2023

Day 4: Confession

Word count: 826

Kyle wonders why Kenny never takes his parka off. The answer is much darker than he expects.

It was too damn hot.

That was the reason why Kyle was currently shuffling alongside the road at one in the morning. Heat radiated from the concrete and a cloudless sky full of stars twinkled overhead. Every bit of snow has evaporated long ago leaving nothing but parched brown lawns and sidewalks hot enough to fry an egg on.

Kyle had spent the past four or so hours tossing and turning beneath a thin Terrance And Phillip blanket with the A.C. on blast and the ceiling fan turned all the way up. Despite his efforts a film of sweat coated his entire body, making sleep impossible. He was still hot and sweaty as he aimlessly walked through town, but at least now he was hopefully burning enough energy to get some shuteye before the sun rose.

There wasn't much to see. Everyone else in town was tucked away in their homes. Occasionally Kyle saw a window glowing orange or flickering from a TV screen, but those were the only signs of human life he encountered from the sleepy mountain town. He had spent so long by himself that he had begun to space out and nearly tripped when he finally bumped into another person.

The redhead muttered an apology as he rebalanced himself and craned his neck to get a look at the person he had just slammed half his body into. Two beady blue eyes peered back at him from behind a thick tangerine jacket.

"Oh. Hey", Kyle said more awkwardly than he intended. "Didn't expect to see you here".

Kenny shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. "I was just taking a walk. It's hot as fuck at my place. No point hanging around there".

"Is your A.C. still broken?".

Kenny nodded. "Yep. It's unbearable. We have fans for circulation, but I'm still sweating just sitting on the couch".

Kyle set his jaw. "You need to get that fixed. It's not safe to be without air conditioning in this kind of heat".

The other boy exhaled through his nostrils. "I know", he said with a slight edge.

Kyle tried not to take offence at his tone. Kenny knew that his friends loved him, but he always got irritated whenever someone tried to teach him how to be safe. Kyle wanted to be respectful of his feelings, but that often conflicted with Kyle's own need to make sure he stays out of danger.

Kenny readjusted his parka and wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. His glove became noticeably darker with the added moisture.

"Speaking of health hazards". Kyle could practically feel Kenny roll his eyes at the first half of his sentence. "Why don't you take off your jacket? I'm sure you'd be much cooler without it".

He expected Kenny to wave him off and tell him to mind his business. Instead the other boy's pupils widened and his entire body went stiff as if he had been caught with his hand in a jar.

They were both quiet for a minute. Finally Kenny spoke. "You wouldn't get it".

"I want to try".

Kenny looked at the ground and folded his hands together. "It's like... Sometimes you'll dream that you're falling. And you always wake up before you land".

Kyle nodded.

"Yeah. I have that dream a lot. Except I always land first".

The other boy swallowed. "Oh...".

"Mhm", Kenny continued. "It fucking hurts. I can't move or think or breathe. Sometimes I can't see either. And when I can...". He put his arms over his stomach. "...I see my guts spilling out. And it's not just falling. I've been set on fire, eaten alive, run over, impaled, shot, drowned, poisoned, and everything else".

Kenny smirked bitterly at Kyle's horrified expression. "For a while I had like... not a bucket list, but the opposite of that. A list of ways that I wanted to die. And I'd cross things off it when I kicked the bucket in a new way. I don't keep track of it anymore 'cause I already got most of them".

"What does any of this have to do with your jacket?".

Kenny raised his eyebrows. "Hm? Oh. If I wear the parka a lot then it appears in my dream too. It helps keep my innards inside. It's still really painful and scary, but at least I don't have to look at myself smeared across the street".

"Man", Kyle said quietly. "That's nuts".

Kenny shrugged, his brow set into a straight, hard line. "It's been like this my whole life. I've tried everything, but it keeps happening anyway. No matter how careful and safe I am. It. Always. Happens".

Another uncomfortable silence passed between them.

Then Kenny put his arms behind his head and started turning on his heal. "Well, anyway. I gotta head home. See ya tomorrow, man".

"See ya", Kyle said back. "Stay safe out there".

"As if I have a choice".

[ina-nis]

Things no one told me about building an actual self-esteem because they don't really believe you can truly grow a self-esteem from scratch (since you're supposed to "hate" yourself "forever")

It's a lot of work! We're talking years here

I had to go through a lot of treatments and do a lot of things to get even started on the journey to get me to like myself. In a way, maybe the fact that I've been always alone "helped" but I'm sure it can be a hindrance for others. It didn't happen overnight and it took me decades to actually be able to say that I have a good self-esteem and sense of self. It actually only started this year! So it's all pretty recent to me. I guess one of the most important things for me, was to look inside and ask myself: "what do you want?" and go from there. If I didn't know what I wanted, then I would try finding it. It was a hard blow to take when I realized just how much of my entire life revolved around people-pleasing and living for others, trying to meet others' expectations and doing what they wanted, how they wanted, because I thought I'd be met with acceptance and love. Of course that doesn't work. You have a lot to deconstruct, a lot to unlearn and a lot to work on. It's tough, really hard, but not impossible. It requires a lot of patience and time.

No, you're not going to hate yourself forever

No, you're not horrible, worthless or unlovable either: your brain is (conveniently) cherry-picking every single thing you do "wrong" or "bad" and making it 500x worse. That's not your fault! To me, a lot of the discomfort came from gender issues. Once you start sorting that out and taking steps to address them, it gets a lot better! It's different from each person but being immersed in different communities and being in contact with different people can help lots. The other piece was disentangling my self from others. I'm not sure how to word this but I'll try my best: basically, learning individuality. Aren't we often told, or maybe heard about how some people are so "selfish" and "self-centered" who "only think about themselves" because these people are not easily manipulated or swayed? Or how someone can be so "over-confident" and, in the eyes of other people, they're just flexing and bragging for attention? Or how you can have "high standards" for yourself but people will say you'll "die alone" because you're not making any effort to be easily digestible? Once you start living for yourself, for your own sake, that comes with isolation, too! But it's not your fault and doing that is not a bad thing at all, on the contrary: other people are not putting the effort, time and energy into changes too. Seeing someone like you might be a trigger because they're forced to face their own issues they're not addressing. You're just trying to exist. Existing as/for yourself and for your sake is the way to go, if others have an issue with that, it's their problem. If you don't know how to do that yet, a really good way to find out is your passions. They can tell you a lot about yourself. And if you don't have any, the process of looking for it can be really fun and rewarding on itself.

"Fake it until you make it" is, indeed, good advice but

There's much more to your life and issues than that: you need to go deep, you have to find the root causes, or get as close as possible, and you need to work on them. It's probably going to be really uncomfortable. I find the "fake it until you make it" approach really good for crisis, but it's different when you're dealing with something deep-rooted and old - low self-esteem always goes way back. At most, you'll keep on "smiling through the pain" and taking hits to your ego and self, and growing a "thicker skin" when what you actually need is softness. Also, invalidating the "bad" emotions will backfire eventually. Emotions are neutral and serve their own purpose, even if it's unpleasant and painful. For example: hating yourself, seeing yourself as inferior or inept, can have a lot to do with how you navigate the world around you. You see how people who are different are treated and you might retreat and want to change completely because you are one of them and you don't want to go through that or maybe you feel alienated because you are different than others even if no one treats you poorly. You can never really win at that game! Feel those emotions, cry, scream, get angry, you don't need to fake it, you just need to let yourself feel it. They will pass. They always do, because feelings are always changing. Besides if you keep on hiding behind a mask of "good vibes", "optimism" and "positive thinking", you might never be able to address your issues. If you can never see it, or feel these intense emotions, if you can never pinpoint where they come from or why, they will keep on happening forever.

Navigating relationships (of any kind) doesn't necessarily become easier as you become confident and secure

Actually, I don't feel like the painful feelings changed much in intensity, they just come from somewhere else now. Before, I suffered because I thought I was "not good enough" and had to make myself more friendly/palatable for other people's sake, to be accepted, to fit with them. Now that I know not only I don't have to do these things (I should not actually!), changing myself for the sake of others' acceptance means I lose very precious parts of myself. Yes, many will not like this "new" and confident you. Let them go. Don't hold onto people who will hold you back and hinder your progress. You don't need that, you don't need them. Yes, even if they're family; yes, even if you've been friends for years; yes, even your partner or your best friend. If people give you a hard time for finally having an self-esteem, let them go. You'll find new people who will love you as you are, who will grow with you, who will see you eye to eye and not as a threat to their own insecurities and lack of confidence. Of course, it's probably "easier" to me because I never really had safe attachments, so letting go or being left behind are very familiar concepts to me, and come naturally, too. Even if it's not ideal, that helped me with my self-esteem so it was not completely bad.

No, you're not too much, you're not asking too much, your standards are not too high and you're not being too strict

One of the most incredible things to experience when you have an actual self-esteem is realizing that a lot of the things you always thought were just "too much" become your bare minimum. Again, it just shows how much people do not work on themselves and how isolating this whole ordeal can be when you actually try to do something for your sake: people are stuck in absolutely horrifying circumstances all the time and many do feel powerless to change it. That's the system working as intended, as people who are desperate, who don't think deeply or don't question anything, will usually take a more "go with the flow" kind of approach and will not try to rock the boat. This is why people with good self-esteem can be seen as such egotistical jerks and worse! They are threatening by existing being confident in their selves and their beliefs. They will question things and they will not put up with bullshit. This is the next step for me. Having a self-esteem alienates me from others. Not more, not less, just alienates me in a different way than before. I think it's now a matter of finding like-minded people with who I can grow with and heal even more, and not settle for less than what I deserve. I've worked really hard to get here and to build this.