#in excitement to provide;;;;

[omi-boshi]

thinking of little omi wanting a dog but his parents tell him he has to earn it because it's a big responsibility for someone as young as he is. so, he sets up a piggy bank to save up for adoption fees. he doesn't tell his parents about it because he wants to show them when he's saved up enough money.

surely if he has the money that means he's responsible enough right?

in the following months, omi sets aside a fraction of his daily allowance to put into his piggy bank.

it's slow-going until his siblings find the piggy bank labeled with "dog savings" in omi's messy scrawl. they're so charmed by their baby brother's antics that they slip in their own spare change behind omi's back.

they never tell him of course because knowing their brother —their sweet and earnest little brother — he would want to do this on his own.

by the time omi's 10th birthday comes, his piggy bank is practically bursting at the seams. he holds it tightly in his little hands as his family sings him a happy birthday.

when it's time to blow out the candles and he has to make a wish, he lifts up the piggy bank and tells his parents how he's been saving up the past few months. that he has enough to pay for the adoption fees. that he's 10, and he's a big boy now, ready for big boy responsibilities.

"i'm responsible enough for a dog now, right?" he would then ask, eyes bright with earnest hope he tries so hard to tamp down just in case they say no. his parents would exchange surprised looks followed immediately by shaking heads and laughter. lots of laughter. omi is rightfully confused. he frowns.

are they laughing at him? the thought makes him flush in embarrassment. his dad leaves the room, still laughing. when he comes back, it's with a box that's almost a little too big for omi. the birthday cake lays forgotten, candles melted, as omi looks curiously at the box in front of him, then to his parents, and then his siblings, and then back to the box.

his older brother nudges him to open it and when he does, omi doesn't know what to do with himself. the akita puppy yipping at him in the box was too much for 10-year-old omi to bear that he starts bawling.

he's hugging the puppy to hide his tears, and in the background he hears cooing and more birthday wishes from his family.

see, his parents had always intended to give omi a dog the moment he asked. omi rarely asked for anything so whenever he did, his parents were always more than ready and excited to give it to him. however, this time, they waited until his birthday because, admittedly, they had a hard time thinking of what to get him.

it seems they made the right decision watching their son pet the akita in quiet awe. they're happy that their little boy loved his birthday present but when they see his dejected little pout a little while later followed by a sad, "i saved for nothing then..." they knew they had to make right with him (not really but what is omi if not their precious youngest).

and that's how omi ends up with not one but two puppies for his 10th birthday.

[raintides]

astarion is either sad or he was caught cuddling and is now hiding his face in embarrassment

[ratatoier]

based on this

[haunted-xander]

Another thing that fucks me up about Thancred & Ryne's relationship through most of shb is that Thancred KNOWS hes messing up he KNOWS hes making tons of mistakes with how he deals with Ryne. He knows full well but doesn't do anything about it. He knows he should reassure her but he doesn't, and he probably doesn't even think he can. Because he knows it won't be completely genuine (and Thancred doesn't even know how to be genuine to begin with) and Ryne is too smart to not see that. And because Ryne already has such a low view of herself she'd never accept his words even if they WERE genuine. Because she still knows that Minfilia means more to him than she does.

And Ryne knows that he's fucking up the entire time too. She knows that he's stressed and grieving but she also thinks she knows his feelings better than she does. Ryne assumes a lot about Thancred, she fills in the blanks between everything he doesn't say or do, but she always fills them in negatively. To her, the default is ALWAYS going to be people wishing she was someone she wasn't, because that's all she's ever know (Vauthry saw her as just "the Oracle" and Ran'jit saw her as just another "Minfilia"). She knows Thancred knows she's not Minfilia, but she thinks he wishes she was (and she's not really wrong, but it's not correct either).

And Thancred is scared to say anything, because he doesn't want to decided her life for her, because he knows Ryne's life is her's to do with as she pleases, but in doing so he inadvertly pushes her towards the option no one really wants. Minfilia doesn't want to come back at Ryne's expense, Ryne doesn't want to just be "Minfilia" for eternity, and Thancred doesn't really want to lose Ryne either.

It's only as the final decision is at hand that Thancred really shows that he DOES care about her as an individual person. It's only after Ryne has already decided to take her life into her own hands that she gets to understand, just a bit, of how he really feels.

[iridescentis]

IT'S A WONDERFUL TIME FOR WEEKLY PEARLOS!!!

[lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit]

how do all the lackadaisy characters react to getting sick/how do the handle the situation. Thanks!! :3c

Lumping these two asks together as they are the same request. Ask and ye shall receive! (A collaborative effort between multiple of our authors as it does involve the whole cast.)

ROCKY

Sick? What do you mean sick. In his over twenty-two years of living thus far he's never been sick once. He has the immune system of a titan, what are you talking about.

Questions he whilst leaning heavily on the bar counter for support lest he is knocked to the ground in a feverish pile by this sudden earthquake that apparently no one else is noticing like seriously you guys shouldn't we evacuate the place?!

In his defense, he's right about one thing: illness seems to avoid him as prevalently and miraculously as death itself. He could get stuck in the rain, take cold mud baths, sleep outside in winter snow, hug someone with Spanish flu, taste the pavement of a rat-infested alley and drink raw sewage and still come out of it all fit as a fiddle.

(Whether he carries anything is a different question, though with the various microorganisms inside him he seems to live in an overwhelmingly peaceful coexistence.)

But every rule has exceptions. And since he frequently does end up in all those situations, when once a millennium he comes down with something it's hard to tell the cause.

How he handles it can be summed up in a short answer of: he doesn't. He refuses to acknowledge it until he's physically incapacitated. If asked about it he keeps insisting that he's fine, a-okay, dandy as can be, never has existed a more invigorated healthy young man on Earth. At best he may invent a perfectly unconvincing excuse, like allergies acting up. (Inside underground caves. In winter. When he's never been allergic to anything in his entire life.)

Aside from perhaps unsuccessfully forbidding him from causing more grievous disturbances than usual, people usually opt to just leave him to it, because once he's set his mind on being "fine" logical reasoning and sound advice are only breath wasted. Ever well-intentioned, Mitzi still tells him to get some rest every now and then, yet keeps stumbling into the boy as he's fumbling through whatever that unresting intent has currently possessed him to be doing.

This wouldn't be such an issue with, say, a cold, because regardless of his masochistic eagerness for activity it inevitably does pass, but if it's something that necessitates any amount of bedrest... well, good luck.

For one he hasn't really a place to rest. I mean... there's the car. No one but Ivy at the Lackadaisy seems to know he technically lives in there, and he's not too enthusiastic to disclose it himself; besides anywhere else actually suitable, like in Mitzi's apartment, he'd just feel like a capital nuisance.

But let's suppose a scenario with the ideal location and someone who cares enough to stick by and ensure he actually does stay put. Shouldering such a responsibility, they must be prepared for a minimum of two things.

For one: he's going to be even more unbearably talkative than usual. Because what else is there left for a restless spirit if the flesh is restrained? Nothing but to complain and lament and versify and prattle on incessantly about whatever comes careening hither along a changeful stream of consciousness. Albeit unwittingly, driving others insane with his aimless rambling is how he keeps himself... well, something.

It's like if his mind had to stop running at maximum speed for just a few minutes it would promptly crash for good. Which, for all we know, may really be the case.

(This is just my two cents, but: I think giving him drawing implements and a coloring book or just plain paper might keep him very nicely occupied, as well as relatively quiet. Be sure to provide plenty of paper though, if you don’t want him to start drawing on other things not meant to be drawn on when the supply runs out like an unsupervised kid... unless you welcome the idea of your walls and furniture being covered in doodles.)

The other, possibly more arduous challenge is keeping him inside the room in the first place. Not understanding nor agreeing with his special treatment largely experienced as imprisonment on his end, he seizes each arising opportunity to attempt to weasel away somehow.

And he's a trained escape artist.

Watch him closely but look away for even a second, and you'll find no trace of him left in the room when you look back. Lock him in there, he'll pick the lock in a pinch - or attempt the window, which depending on the floor number may carry various levels of risk. Tie him down (because you're getting desperate by now) and you're likely to stumble into him minutes later by the front door, having already wriggled his way out. Doesn’t matter which knot was used, he knows most of them by heart. (And even if he didn’t happen to, he’s resourceful enough.)

Like I’ve said before, he perseveres in resisting his confinement for as long as he's capable of moving his limbs around and some vague semblance of coherent thought. Even with his brains cooking with delirium one may have to rescue him as he's crawling along on the floor dragging with him the tangle of blankets he was last left swaddled in, not entirely clear on what direction he's headed but by all means dedicated.

He's not above manipulation either, in order to divert his warden’s attention or make them relinquish his firm supervision rooted in concern for his well-being. Because it's not like he's concerned about it; so why should anyone else be? In addition he's unshakably certain that his role in the Lackadaisy's rumrunning force as well as there in general is absolutely vital and requires that he always be available for employment regardless of if he’s even in a proper state for it. (Just look at the latest comic arc, for crying out loud.)

But psst. Here's a little personal tip, for (Y/N) specifically. If reasonable advice hits deaf ears, and cuffing him to a bedpost yields little results other than another mildly baffling escape attraction, there remains one other thing to try with better chances of success... a more hands-on approach, if you catch my drift.

(Cuddling. I'm talking about cuddling. If you've got a good grip on this string bean of a man he is certainly not going anywhere so long as you're vigilant. Doing so, of course, means risking your own health, which he won't fail to coyly point out either; but he'll otherwise put up minimal resistance and ultimately cave in because God knows he’s touch deprived and doesn't get held enough otherwise. Well, by not enough I mean not at all, ever. But that's exactly why it's a good thing you're here, isn't it?)

Overall, as amusing of a story collection to recount as his commonly absurd ailing escapades might provide later down the line, the fact that they very rarely happen is no doubt for the best. He engages in enough troublesome shenanigans as is.

FRECKLE

Surprisingly pragmatic about it. Yep. He's getting symptoms. Looks like he contracted something.

Best be careful about it... mostly because Nina wouldn't allow him running himself ragged anyhow.

Along with other moral virtues he's had honesty drilled into him from kittenhood. And although it's not always an option in... other matters... he's upfront about how he's feeling physically if not much else, and eventually does come to terms with it. (Once he’s confirmed with certainty that it’s not just the general nauseated feeling he gets whenever he thinks too deeply about his “work” nowadays.)

He doesn't want to infect other people, or incur the stern concern of his mother, so at the very least he stays around the house, doing small, mostly undemanding chores. He's aware it's not expected of him nor recommended, but he has a bit of restlessness to him too.

Mostly because, were it bad enough to confine him to bed in a blanketed bundle of suffering incarnate, all he'd be able to think about is that God's wrath finally caught up with him for being a horrible person and this was part of his rightful punishment. Even worse if he got a nasty fever; it's like he's already burning in Hell.

Distractions may be scarce, but if he's been told off from chores for sneezing on the washing-up or exhausting himself with much too overzealous hammering, he opts to read instead. Over the years he's amassed quite the collection of books, renowned classics and youth literature, and most of them still give off the fluttering remnants of a good kind of nostalgia when flipping through the pages.

And besides, immersing himself in someone else's story is far more pleasant than fretting over his own current predicaments.

Some company, from a safe distance of course, will do him wonders as well. Nina is not the most conversational woman around, and aside from checking on him regularly and ensuring his wellbeing they don't make much meaningful contact.

Rocky likely pops in from time to time however, forever enthused to just run his mouth for as long as allowed, and although he may get a bit too bombastic for Calvin's comparative lack of vitality sometimes he appreciates the distraction more than he's able to express it. And, believe it or not, it's not entirely one-sided either. Rocky has developed a keen sense for his quiet cousin's intent to contribute and will more than gladly listen to what he has to say.

He’ll also forward Ivy’s wishes for Calvin to get well soon as she’s just dying to be able to meet with him at the speakeasy again. (Definitely also attaches a teasing remark or two to the message.) Then he’s eventually ushered out by Nina and as soon as his hasty goodbyes are swallowed by the outdoors Calvin finds himself missing the noise already.

The paralyzed stillness of being sick gets to him a lot more than it shows… seeing as it leaves him a little too alone with his own mind. So he sinks into the comfort of old books until he’s incapacitated by a headache and sore eyes, and diligently rakes those seven leaves that had gathered across the back lawn since he last attended to them two hours before, and lingers outside in the garden until warmer hues overtake a sun-painted sky and the evening chill starts to bite, taking in all things green and alive and in motion to remind himself that he’s not a walking corpse. Not yet, anyway.

Due to his mom’s supervision as well as his own eagerness to follow instructions in order to escape his personal limbo as soon as possible, he does tend to recover fairly fast; and he’s a pretty hardy young lad, thank goodness, so it’s all quite uncommon of an ordeal. In short it’s back to the ol’ grindstone in a jiffy; you know, the kind of grindstone that pulverizes mortal lives and churns out dripping blood.

But hey, best not stop and mull over it too long.

IVY

Oh, it's a nightmare for her.

You mean she can't go out in the evenings anymore? Can't go shopping with friends? Can't procure booze with her criminal coworkers? Can't attend dates with her cute new boyfriend? (Well, those last two are one and the same, really.)

These are all vital activities for a young woman like her to pursue! What else is she supposed to do? Rot in her room and steer clear of all fun whilst everyone else keeps going on with their lives?!

Some flimsy cold is nowhere near enough to keep her away from the beloved Lackadaisy. She can still man the café counter with a little sniffle (taking care to sneeze on no one's food) or look absolutely gorgeous on the dancefloor decked in glimmering pearls and feathers with a slightly paler constitution. But if it's bad enough that she simply must stay put...

During classes the still life of an empty dormitory fills with upbeat contemporary tunes from her bedstand radio as she lies upon crumpled bedsheets, clad in her prettiest pajamas, surrounded by an almost ritualistic circle of tissues and magazines whilst flipping through one of the latter with her legs girlishly dangling in the air. This is likely the scene any visitors are greeted by as well.

She looks like she's coping rather well... until verbal contact ensues and she begins her long string of complaints about how she's feeling utterly miserable. Runny nose, sore throat, grating cough, an unshakable sense of fatigue and she can't even go anywhere! Her classmates are off studying or having fun themselves (as well as deliberately avoiding contact with her for obvious reasons), and she's got nothing to look at but patterned wallpaper and pictures of pretty clothes she currently can't even visit the boutiques for.

But once the grievances are shared she promptly guides the spotlight in their direction, upon which they are to share every last bit of information and news about all most recent ongoings in the world of the healthy. It is a requirement (she will not let them go until they oblige), but also an opportunity; they're welcome to spill the beans on how their week has been and any noteworthy things that happened to them and also to just chat with her about whatever else comes up in the process.

Another way she keeps herself involved with the outside world is through the telephone. The local operator can already tell if she's under the weather by the prevalence of hearing her slightly weathered, juvenile voice squeak for connection to mostly one line throughout the day.

Her calls may also be scheduled to a certain hour so that everyone can come up to Mitzi's office and say hi. That "everyone" overwhelmingly ends up being Rocky, who lingers around there a bit more insistently than usual nearing that time frame and never fails to make his presence known by shouting his own greetings and cheerful encouragements of perseverance into the receiver.

She always asks him about Viktor and Calvin since the former disappointingly refuses to engage with her calls, and the latter doesn't visit because boys aren't allowed in the dormitory... and because he's afraid of catching her sickness. (What a chicken.)

You’d better believe they both get a scolding once she’s recovered for not contacting her at all… though you can’t really stay mad at sheepishly apologetic, babyfaced Freckle McMurray, now can you

Supposing the presence of company who’s emotionally close enough, she may also get clingy in the physical sense. Yes, she knows it’s not very courteous to rub your germs all over someone, but oh, her head is just killing her and she’s exhausted and achy and utterly sick of being sick, hence she desperately needs to rest her chin on someone’s shoulder and latch onto their soft warmth. Really, they brought this upon themselves by daring to enter the sniffly lion cub’s den. Now they’re likely not allowed to move for… let’s say the next two hours. Alternatively, until she has to go to the bathroom or ask them to get her something to drink.

Yes, she’s a bit of a princess; and especially when she’s miserable she may occasionally indulge in showering a willing servant with her various requests. Fetch her this, throw away that, bring hot chocolate and snacks, take out the trash, give her attention. But how could you say no to those big, innocent eyes?

If it’s a schoolmate she will absolutely persuade them to skip their classes for the day and spend time with her instead, offering cuddles and gossip. Forgetting, or ignoring rather, that not everyone can afford to be so lax about their education. Though surely, full-time service as a personal maid slash stuffed animal is making a much better use of their time. She promises to do the same when they inevitably catch the illness themselves, if that’s any consolation.

Nightly adventures and consequent loss of sleep aside, she takes decent care of herself overall, so the understimulating agony of quarantined solitude luckily isn’t something she suffers more of than the average person… albeit that little she’s an expert at suffering luxuriously.

VIKTOR

No, he's not sick, you're just lying. The great, the indomitable, the fierce Viktor Vasco never gets sick.

Denial is definitely a big part of it. He will not admit to getting sick until he's too weak to stand, and even then he'll fight anyone who tries to get him to rest.

The boredom is somehow scarier than actual health concerns. Staying at home and being too ill to do anything except think means he'll think. And thinking leads to a whole load of other things that he doesn't want to get into.

Essentially, getting sick is a liability to everything, from his job to his sense of self.

However, good luck on trying to make him better. He will also stubbornly refuse any help that comes his way, will slam his door in the doctor's face and threaten to tear apart anyone who so much as suggests getting him medicine.

His colleagues from Lackadaisy have taken to asking Mrs Bapka, his neighbour, to administer anything they want to give him themselves (he will draw a line at punching an old woman and fellow Slovakian immigrant), or Ivy (no one can successfully dispose of Ivy and her headstrong attitude. No one.)

The last person he had actually listened to when he was sick was a certain Mordecai Heller. Needless to say, that's not the case anymore.

Maybe that's what really makes him so grumpy and reluctant.

ZIB

His immune system is either rock hard or absolute dogshit, there is no in-between. He can go through a crowd of cats with nasty 'bouts of the flu without catching it, but gets bedridden by something as small as a head cold.

Said wonky immune system may be because he tends to drink stuff cut with the most ridiculous ingredients (radiator fluid, coffin varnish, paint, water, mud, you name it he's probably tasted it)

When he gets laid up, he gets laid up hard (innuendo not intended). He has to drag himself out of bed during the worst parts of it and may not even bother, electing to curl up and shiver/cry from the pain/die where he's comfortable. His band members have to literally drag him out of there on those days and force food down his throat so he doesn't wither away

Goddammit you lanky noodle bitch look after your sick ass don't make everyone do it for you

MORDECAI

He hates falling ill with a passion. It's one of many reasons he drinks tea so often: if he does get sick, it won't hit him so hard.

He tends to try and shrug off small stuff (runny nose, mild to moderate headache, aches and pains) to go to work anyway; but he's no fool. If he really feels icky he'll stay at home and look after himself. As much as he hates to do it, he's only got one body and somebody has to look after it.

The Savoys bash/tease him relentlessly whenever he comes in sick. If the mild headache becomes something worth staying at home for, they'll go as far as to try and visit him (or get him to come to them). Is it guilt about ragging him about it, them missing him or just boredom? Hard to tell with those two.

Serafine once teased about playing as his "mama" and looking after him until he's better. Mordecai, in his sickness-muddled mind, flew off the handle at her...Though all the Savoys saw was him almost break a glass in his paws before telling them flatly to get out.

Neither one realized Serafine had hit a nerve until he refused to let them in for a few days after. Whether it was something about his past or Serafine betraying his trust to get him into her group, they let it go and pretended nothing happened once he was back in action (though there was a noticeably thicker wall between him and them)

SERAFINE/NICODEME

Meet the "clingy" duo.

They don't get sick often and have impressive immune systems, what with their past roaming the swamps and other dangerous conditions, but when they do? Oh boy...

They'll either cling to each other in private, or play it up and annoy a hapless colleague.

And by "hapless colleague", I mean Mordecai—because of course it is.

Sickness is less of an actual, preventive ailment, but rather an excuse to show off some dramatic acting skills.

"Oh, cher, I simply cannot move until you bring me some nice warm tea and chocolate!"

"If I die, tell the world I was warm and safe, because of our dear ami, Heller..."

"For crying out loud, you've both got nothing but a cold."

They'll still play it up.

Just because your nose is stuffy doesn't mean the rest of you has to be.

The show must go on, mon cher.

WICK

He gets sick really, really easily. He stays up late at night often, so he doesn't get much rest and his immunity suffers for it.

(Licking rock walls probably doesn't help with that. Muffinhead (affectionate))

He still does work and goes out when he's sick, which results in papers with shitty writing and his friends urging him to go and rest up, "we can go with you another day".

When he's not thinking straight he'll whine to Lacie about how no one wants to see him when he's sick; ignoring the fact that she's either making him food, putting a cold cloth on his head or literally came by just to say hi to him

He's a bit dim sometimes, but he's a loveable dim.

The easiest way to see how sick he is is to mention putting the work on pause or crack a joke at his expense. If he rapidly objects to not working or good-naturedly shrugs off the joke, it's a small thing, nothing to worry about. If all he has to say in response to not working is "I can't" and he tries to defend himself from the joke (or even worse, agrees with it), he's feeling god-awful.

Lacie tends to hide the alcohol away until he's feeling better. During the week or so he's really feeling foggy this actually works, since in his addled state he can't properly look for them.

MITZI (BONUS since she's been getting a fair bit of attention)

Mitzi doesn't get sick. She becomes inconvenienced.

She's also a real bitch when she's sick. It's less of a slipping mask and more of a "I can't be nice when my brain feels too big for my skull"

She'll still grin and bear it for Rocky. He's positively devoted to her, after all; the least she can do is swallow her nasty remarks and come up with something softer for him.

Some cats swear that she never falls ill or has anything happen to her...Usually because once it does happen she locks herself in her office and won't open the door if you're not Horatio or Viktor.

If another cat somehow gets through her door, can put up with her attitude swings and goes out of their way to help her through her illness, she may very well open up a little and talk to them easier. Something as small as a cup of tea during a ravenous headache will convince the then-bitchy queen that you're not all bad-and later that since you put up with her ravenous insults and still helped her, maybe you're worth swallowing her pride for and confiding in.

[feroluce]

I'm brainrotting over the thing we see in Mamere's world quests, where each Mélusine has a "token" aka a small object that serves as their "proof of life" and is probably their single most important possession ever, because like. There's not really any human equivalent. So Wriothesley wouldn't really understand how/what/why Sigewinne considers this thing as almost as valuable as her own life, he just knows that it's important to her.

So I think if something were to happen, like Meropide springing a leak somewhere near Sigewinne's quarters, it'd cause a lot of distress for her. Everyone gets evacuated, because no, it's not pure Primordial Seawater like from the sluice gate, but y'know, it's still rushing water and still dangerous. A lot of inmates get banged up in the panic of evacuating and the flood, and as badly as Sigewinne wants to leave and go back for her token, she can't ignore it when her patients are hurt. So she swallows it down and blocks it out and tries to just get to work and desperately hope she can find it in the wreckage later.

They do a headcount and everybody but their duke is accounted for; someone remarks they saw him running towards the source of the water. Sigewinne is equal parts relieved and worried, because if anyone could at least temporarily stop the leak it would be Wriothesley, but also he gets reckless sometimes, so she really hopes he's careful about it.

It takes a while, but some of the inmates start yelling over by the rails, and when Sigewinne tells them to move over, she sees that Wriothesley is trudging his way back up to them from the lower level. The inmates are all so proud and excitable! That's their duke!! Wriothesley looks up and sees them all hanging over the rails, and from here Sigewinne can see that he's completely soaked. Wriothesley's skin is all irritated red and fever-flushed from the diluted Primordial Seawater, and he's littered with bruises and scrapes from the current battering him against the walls and the floors and the pipes and all kinds of debris.

Wriothesley looks up, but he doesn't say anything at first, he just scans his eyes back and forth over the crowd. Until finally, he locks eyes with Sigewinne, and raises his arm up.

And in his hand is the bag that Sigewinne keeps her token in.

And the inmates, not realizing what he's holding, take his raised arm as a victorious fist in the air and they all cheer haha. But Wriothesley doesn't look anywhere else, doesn't smile for anyone but Sigewinne. ♡

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I haven't known how to exactly phrase this so I've held off, though I'd like to try now! The Lights Off AU brings me some sort of.. Strange comfort? Strange reassurance? About the whole "Hey yeah, everything you know is not real, actually!" Which, at least for us, as a DID System is just.. the norm? False memories of a media or a very obviously different 'world' are something that are just in our head. (Not delusions, we are aware they are fabricated. But we're also aware that they felt real to us.) So to have a piece of media where people also go through that, being a system or not? It's... Strangely comforting to know that you aren't the only person on the world who could feel that way, even if it's just a fictional story. I hope none of this is weird or too strange! I'm not sure how much/if you know about DID (not to mention the stigma) so I'd rather try to explain the more confusing terms as short as I can. There's a lot more I could say as well, but I don't want this to drag on too much or be too complex about this explaination. I hope you're doing well for yourself Bog! :]

sorry it took me so long to get to this! longer asks need more thought and time and energy, and i admit it got a little Buried under other asks!

i know a bit about DID - not nearly enough to say that i know what I'm talking about, but i've made sure to do research to better understand it!

but anyway i'm glad i could give that to you, even in a small way! that's the whole purpose of fiction, i think - to bring people comfort and catharsis and validation through viewing the self in the other, however unintentional it may be! i hope this silly little au continues to provide that - and i hope that if i ever write a fic for it, it does the experience justice <3

[antisocialxconstruct]

oof as much as I'd love to start drama by asking what IFs you have beef with..... I have to go with the less targeted question of 'what are some IF tropes you think are overdone'. personally if I have to see the same four ROs recycled into another game one more time I'll scream

LOL probably a safer question for me to answer too...

ROs are a big sticking point for me as well. Seeing the same archetypes over and over, feeling like someone came up with ROs first and is now desperately trying to finesse a story that can justify all of them being date-able*, someone having an actually interesting and compelling story to tell but bending themself into pretzels to fit in six romance arcs that may not even serve the plot just because that's an expected convention... Also in general I never lose interest in a new project faster than when I see artbreeder RO portraits. Not even because it's """AI art""" but because it's always the same empty eyed model-perfect 20something in different colors.

(*NOT the same as a story primarily designed to be a dating sim. I generally think that's fine as a genre, and some of these people would have an easier time if they were willing to admit that's what they were writing and not some sweeping grand narrative.)

My other biggest issue with a lot of amateur IF is like... excessive and overly ambitious customization? I think a lot of authors don't know where the line is on what they can just allow the reader to imagine without there being a variable for it, as well as what they should frankly just... be willing to decide for the reader when it best serves the story. As far as MC customization, I think this really stems from a lot of people in the community getting their first introduction to IF through CoG and then drawing the conclusion that if some character customization is good, more customization must be better! But if it's not going to come up in-text and be directly relevant to the plot or how the MC is characterized*... it doesn't need to be canonized.

(*by which I mean, like... making your character a specific religion, or disabled, or something like that. Things that actually impact how they engage with the world.)

Branching off of that, I think maybe my most potentially controversial take is... not every IF needs to have a customizable MC at all. It's entirely possible to write a story with a set, static protagonist, and still allow the player to make decisions that allow them to shape that character and the broader plot in a way that still feels personal and like they're an active participant. VNs tend to go this way, or else they have a faceless MC who still tends to have a more set personality, and I think sometimes I read IF demos and I really get the feeling they wish they could be writing someone specific, and they're getting hamstrung by the idea that they need to sand off enough defining features to let the MC be anyone.

[ghost-proofbaby]

how is the progress on hour 12 going ?? i am unbelievably excited i love your writing so much

this chapter has proven to me to never update that masterlist preemptively again. some changes are being made (again, i know, my bad) to the smutty chapters buuut.... why not offer some breadcrumbs under the cut? <3 (warning... many f bombs dropped in this small snippet. kind of impressive. look at me and my foul mouth go.)

Is the road ahead of you two even paved? 

“What now?” he suddenly asks, breaking the silence you two had been reveling in. You had been in your own head, and you wonder for a moment if he had been as well. You can’t find it in yourself to glance over your shoulder and look at him, to solve the mystery on your own, instead clinging to those grazes of his fingertips still skimming your thigh. 

With an exhausted sigh, you zero in your focus across the room, looking at the clock on the shelves, “I don’t know. It’s already three in the morning, so-”

“Oh, fuck.” 

“What?”

“It’s fucking three,” Eddie is shooting up from behind you quickly, “We never sent a fucking picture.” 

You understand his panic immediate, realization settling as he springs off of the couch, echoing his words with sincerity, “Oh, fuck.”

[ariadne-mouse]

been dodging spoilers for Echoes of the Solstice on multiple social media platforms like

[buglaur]

he is on his way

[so-called-quail]

…Pippin went with Beregond and was made known to the men of the Third Company. And it seemed that Beregond got as much honour from it as his guest, for Pippin was very welcome. There had already been much talk in the citadel about Mithrandir's companion and his long closeting with the Lord; and rumour declared that a Prince of the Halflings had come out of the North to offer allegiance to Gondor and five thousand swords. And some said that when the Riders came from Rohan each would bring behind him a halfling warrior, small maybe, but doughty.

These rumors are so amusing skfjdkdjsk.

[lesbiangracehanson]

au where raffi discovers the 21st century concept of ‘escape rooms’ + makes the la sirena crew try out increasingly complicated holo-escape rooms that she’s found..... until the rest of the crew refuse to take part anymore because raffi’s just singlehandedly solving them in like 10 minutes flat whilst the rest of them are occasionally allowed to unlock a padlock or read out a clue for her 

[vaguely-humanoid-form]

this place is not a place of honor. no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here. nothing valued is here.

[askshototodoroki]

What's your favorite animal?