#in it I like. love building and creating little funny things for me to play in….. yeah

[lousylemonseminar]

Bloxburg hyperfix again does this I GOT THE FUCKING. DIMENSIONS WRONG IT FOESNT LOOK LIKE NO BRAKESSS

HELP YOUR LOCAL MINOR BUILDER ASS NEEOOOWWWW silly

[veal-exe]

the way western society normalizes hostility toward romantic partnerships, especially ones that involve a masc partner, is genuinely toxic and deeply dehumanizing. there is this baked-in cultural script where masc people are positioned as burdens, villains, punchlines, or ticking time bombs in relationships. and once you notice it, it’s everywhere.

when i talk about my wife, the reaction is so often warmth. admiration. people say she sounds wonderful (she is), they say our relationship seems like a dream (it is, actually, thank you!), they call us relationship #goals. i light up when i talk about her. i love her. she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and being able to talk about that openly is such a joy. i once got crazy drunk at a party (this was when I was still in my early 20s, a different era of my life for sure lmao), stood on a chair, and gave a speech about how much i loved her and wished she was at that party.

but when she talks about me? it’s so often met with weirdness. suspicion. cruelty. even from people who haven’t met me. people joke, they jab, they offer unsolicited concern or imply dysfunction before she’s even said anything that might warrant it.

she says she’s tired, or anxious, or she had a rough day, and they immediately assume it’s a relationship problem. and not just that, they assume i’m the problem. without context. without hesitation. having never met me. it’s like they come in ready to believe i’m the root of her distress. like it’s a default setting, preloaded with assumptions about masc partners. it’s exhausting, and it’s cruel.

and then there’s the really insidious stuff, like when she casually mentioned to a brand new coworker that i’m allergic to blueberries, and their first response was: “well at least you know how to poison him if you need to!”

think about that for a moment.

just… sit with it.

someone she barely knew, upon hearing the most benign fact about me, didn’t say “oh no, food allergies are tough!” or “gotta be careful with that!” they went straight to murder joke. this person hadn’t even met me. and the first thing they felt comfortable joking about with my wife was the idea of killing me.

and people act like that’s funny. like that’s normal. like it’s expected.

but it’s not funny. it’s not normal. it is an extension of a deeply rooted cultural narrative that devalues love, resents intimacy, and paints masc people as disposable, antagonistic, or inherently abusive. it creates an environment where tenderness is suspect, where joy is questioned, and where people, especially femme or femme adjacent people, are quietly encouraged to view their partners not as allies, but as eventual enemies! that's so sad!

it is heinous. and it chips away at us. at trust. at safety. at being allowed to just love each other in peace.

my wife and i love each other. we support each other. we adore each other. we are tender, and playful, and honest, and openly affectionate. and still, people feel comfortable responding to that love by implying violence. by assuming conflict. by projecting dysfunction.

i want better for her. i want better for us. i want better for everyone trying to build something loving in a culture that acts like love is a trap.

you don’t have to think we’re perfect. but you do have to treat our love with respect. and if you can’t do that, you’re not someone we want near it.

and while we’re on the subject: do you know how maddening it is to watch people go out of their way to privately message my wife! my wife! to shittalk me? to try and stir something up, to start some weird little whisper campaign because they didn’t like a take i had, or didn’t like the way i worded something? they sneak into her dms like it’s their sacred duty to “warn” her, or play devil’s advocate, or lowkey vent about me to her, as if she’s just this passive, neutral vessel who might be won over to their side. as if she has not been married to me, on purpose, for years.

and like. the entitlement of that alone is jusr? staggering. she’s not your fucking inside woman. she’s not your spy. and she is not your tool to try and triangulate some imaginary interpersonal drama.

not only does she share most of my so-called “big opinions” (why do you think we’re married), but even if she didn’t! even if she didn’t agree with me on every single thing! it is so profoundly inappropriate to try to sow discord between us. especially when it’s just because someone didn’t like a post or opinion I have. you are not doing anything brave or righteous when you do that. you are trying to isolate a marginalized couple from their mutual support system. and you need to ask yourself why that is something you feel compelled to do.

and it doesn’t stop there. here on tumblr, people will befriend her, knowing she is married to a multigender transmasc person! and then go on to reblog and boost the most vile, hurtful shit about masc people/trans men/etc. just hateful garbage dressed up as discourse or “critical thought” or whatever flavor of thinly veiled bigotry is trending that week.

do you have any idea what it feels like to witness that? do you have any idea how heartbreaking it is? this is someone trying to make friends, trying to connect, trying to exist with softness and warmth in a world that already makes that hard and people keep showing her that their care and respect stops where mine begins.

and it’s not just about me. it’s about how deeply embedded this disgust and resentment is, socially, toward anyone who’s masc, toward anyone who steps outside the boundaries of what a “safe” queer person is supposed to look like. people feel entitled to show us disdain, and then act shocked when we don’t want to stick around for it.

and you know what it actually does? it isolates people. it drives wedges where there should be community. it makes people who want to be open and kind feel like they have to choose between friendship and integrity. it steals the joy of shared space. it poisons the well.

this is what happens when hatred gets repackaged as progress. this is what happens when people mistake cruelty for critique. and it fucking sucks.

be better.

or leave us alone.

[maxinemeows]

After seeing Bad's stream revisiting the DSMP and hearing his words, it made me realize how much I love every little piece of this silly server where funny people played pretend for hours and hours.

So much of this has been tainted by many things, that I forgot that I genuinely loved this place. The fandom, all the beautiful art, music, and the fics!

Whether you still like the majority of cc's or not it doesn't matter. I feel like we have this special bond that ties us together regardless.

To the DTQK people to the SBI fans, to people who like BeeDuo, or enjoyed Tales of the SMP, The Egglore! And so much more cool stuff!

(L'manburg, Las Nevadas, Exile arc, Pandora's box, George Lore, Bad and Quackity cursed streams, Nikki enjoyers, Ponk and Sam, Syndicate, Ender walking, Foolish's building, etc and etc!)

I just wanted to say how much that period of time means to me and how it still does because I enjoy, create and reference stuff that are related to the DreamSMP even now!

[mbruben-stein]

Hello, i was wondering if i could request some romantic headcanons of the rise of the guardians with a guardian s/o who's afraid of thunderstorms. Like tornados and stuff. If it gets pretty windy on a stormy day, she gets a bit nervous. How would they comfort them? By the way, i love your work :) ❤️

Rise of the Guardians: fem guardian S/O who's afraid of thunderstorms would include.

A/N: thank you for requesting this. I had a lot of fun writing this. 😊

~Jack Frost~

Jack would wrap his arms around you in a comforting embrace, holding you close against his chest so you feel safe and protected. "I've got you," he'd whisper soothingly. "You're alright, I'm right here with you."

He'd gently stroke your hair and rub your back in calming motions. The coolness of his touch would help ground you and ease some of the nervous energy.

Jack would distract you by telling funny stories and jokes to take your mind off the storm outside. He'd do goofy things to make you laugh.

He'd build a cozy blanket fort for the two of you to snuggle up in, insulating you from the howling winds. With his arms securely around you, he'd make you feel like nothing could touch you in your safe hideaway.

Jack would remind you that he controls winter weather and he won't let anything bad happen. "Those winds have nothing on me," he'd say with a confident wink. "I'm the real force of nature around here."

He'd suggest fun indoor activities to occupy your mind, like baking cookies, playing board games, or having a silly dance party. Keeping busy helps keep the anxiety at bay.

Most of all, Jack would stay right by your side, holding your hand and providing endless comfort through his presence. He'd periodically place gentle kisses on your forehead and repeat "I love you" and "Everything will be okay."

His patience and affection would help tremendously in making you feel safe, loved and able to get through the stormy nervousness with your caring boyfriend's devoted support. Jack's fun-loving spirit and tender compassion are the perfect antidote to soothe your fears.

~North~

North would notice your anxiety immediately, his bright blue eyes softening with concern as he sees you glancing nervously at the windows when the wind picks up. Without hesitation, he would usher you away from the windows to a cozy corner of his workshop.

"Come, come! Is nothing to fear when North is here," he might say in his booming Russian accent, wrapping one of his massive arms around your shoulders. The weight of it would be instantly grounding.

North would likely create a distraction through his craftsmanship. "Look here! I show you new toy design," he might say, pulling out beautiful ice sculptures or wooden carvings, encouraging you to focus on the intricate details rather than the storm raging outside.

If the thunder grew particularly loud, he would probably laugh heartily to counter it. "Ha! Thunder thinks it can be louder than North? I think not!" Then he'd bellow out a Russian folk song, drowning out the storm with his enthusiastic (if somewhat off-key) singing.

When you jump at a particularly close lightning strike, North would take your hands in his enormous ones, the "naughty" and "nice" tattoos visible on his forearms. "Feel this," he would say, placing your hand over his heart. "Steady as North Pole. We face many dangers together, no? Little storm is nothing."

He might share stories of far more frightening adventures he's had, exaggerating wildly to make you laugh, gesturing dramatically with his hands as he describes battling Pitch or navigating his sleigh through impossible weather.

If the storm continued into the night, North would build a fire and wrap you in the softest blankets from his collection, perhaps ones trimmed with the same black fur as his coat. He'd make his special hot chocolate (with a secret recipe he claims is magic) and sit beside you, his large presence a shield between you and whatever fears the storm might bring.

"Is okay to be afraid sometimes," he would tell you with surprising gentleness for such a large man. "Even North has fears. But we are Guardians. We have each other. Together, there is nothing we cannot face, да?"

And somehow, with North's boundless confidence surrounding you, you'd find yourself believing him, the storm becoming just background noise to the wonder and warmth he creates just by being himself.

~Bunnymund~

Bunnymund would wrap you up in a warm, protective embrace, holding you close against his soft fur. "It's alright love, I've got ya. You're safe with me," he'd murmur soothingly.

He'd gently stroke your hair, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. "Just focus on me, sweetheart. Block out the storm and listen to my heartbeat, nice and steady."

Bunnymund would distract you by telling funny stories, cracking jokes to make you laugh and take your mind off the raging wind and booming thunder outside.

He'd build a cozy blanket fort for the two of you to snuggle up in, a safe little cocoon sheltered from the tempest. "There we go, snug as two bugs we are. Nothin' can get to us in here."

Bunnymund would brew a pot of soothing herbal tea, maybe chamomile or lavender, and sit with you sipping it. The warmth and his calming presence would help relax your nerves.

He'd put on some soft, calming music to drown out the noise of the storm, then pull you close to softly dance with you, gently swaying to take your mind to a more peaceful place.

Bunnymund would remind you that storms always pass. "It'll blow itself out 'fore long, love. And I'll be right here with ya until it does, keeping you safe and sound. Promise."

His strong, steady presence, soothing words, and physical comfort would surround you like a security blanket, making you feel protected and helping soothe your anxieties until the storm passes. Bunnymund would do whatever it takes to be your port in the tempest.

~Tooth~

When a big storm approaches and the wind starts howling, you nervously look out the window, your heart beating faster. Tooth notices your unease and flutters over to you. "Hey, it's going to be okay sweetie," she says gently, wrapping her colorful feathered arms around you from behind in a comforting embrace. "I'm right here with you."

As thunder rumbles in the distance, you can't help but tremble slightly. Tooth guides you over to sit down on the couch and cuddles up close to you, her warm, soft feathers brushing against your skin. "Focus on me," she says softly. "Think about my shimmering feathers, my kind eyes, my sweet voice. I'll keep you safe." She strokes your hair lovingly.

The storm intensifies outside, rain lashing the windows. You bury your face against Tooth's chest, trying to block it out. "Shh, I've got you, darling," Tooth whispers, holding you securely. "Listen to my heartbeat. Feel my arms around you. Nothing bad will happen while I'm here protecting you."

Tooth gently rocks you as wind howls and thunder booms. "Imagine we're up in my palace, floating peacefully among the clouds," she says. "Picture the colorful mural walls, the tiny fairies flitting about, the glowing memory boxes. We're completely safe there, just you and me." Her soothing words help distract you from the tempest.

"You're so strong and brave, sweetheart," Tooth reassures you. "I know storms frighten you, but I also know you can get through this. Because I'll be right beside you the whole time, comforting you, until the wind and rain pass. We'll weather this together." She kisses your forehead tenderly, helping you feel less alone and afraid.

Tooth keeps you wrapped up in her warm, feathery embrace, whispering words of comfort and encouragement until the worst of the storm subsides. Her steady presence, loving touch and soothing voice help gradually ease your nervousness and make the thunderstorm feel a little less scary. You know you can always count on Tooth to comfort you and make you feel protected and loved, even in the stormiest of times.

[the-lovely-lady-luck]

okay i finally did it, i caved and i wrote 3k words about a character with less than 60 lines of dialog in a ~30 hour game. if you haven't played clair obscur: expedition 33 yet i lightly suggest that you do bc the game is absolutely an all-timer. also don't read this because it spoils just about every major plot point in the entire game. if you've played feel free to read on.

Fuck. Clea Dessendre. I don't even know where to start to be honest. What a wildly compelling character. Eldest daughter syndrome. Needs to be doing something productive-ass cunt. This is sort of just my insane ramblings about her (mostly off the cuff while at work or packing for my trip), so if there are any inconsistencies it’s likely due to that but I fully intend to do a deep dive looking into all the mentions of Clea sometime soon.

I guess the central thing that compels me is the thing that most people get wrong about her in the first place: her grief. admittedly we have very little to work on from her directly, but I would argue that it's intentional. We have a couple of core things about her introduced through our first and only real interaction with her.

- She's a painter (obviously)

- She is mean to Maelle, and it's highly insinuated to be related to blaming her for Verso's death. She “both loves and hates him for that”, hating that he sacrificed himself for a sibling she doesn’t love like she loves him and yet loving him for it because it's why she loved him in the first place — that he was the kind of person who would sacrifice himself like that.

- She is off waging war against the Writers. She is outwardly dismissive of the rest of the family and the way they are handling their grief, but at the same time says she will wage this war on her own if need be.

I’ve seen a lot of jokes about how she's the only one in the family not caught up in grief, how she's off fighting in the plot of an entirely different game where she is the protagonist, etc. And while that's funny (and I want to play the clea game please please please) I think putting her off in a corner where she gets to lore dump and then not matter is a missed opportunity to think about her place in all of this. 

The stages of grief tend to be overused and often misunderstood (people putting too much significance in, say, the order of them or the insistence on everyone existing in every stage in the process), but I like the framework of different manifestations of grief and the names are easy to understand so I am going to use them as points of reference here (though notably i am reaching different definitions and conclusions for these terms than the “stages of grief”). My original thoughts on the topic were long and rambly so I'm paraphrasing my thoughts.

Denial and Bargaining are predominantly shown through the parents of the family, Aline and Renoir. Denial is Aline’s territory, with many characters remarking about her desire to escape into the fantasy of the canvas to avoid the harsh reality. She builds upon Verso’s established world and creates a fake version of her family so that she can play out what “should” have been. Bargaining, in a less traditional sense, is Renoir’s domain. He insists on his method of grieving over all others. And while he has a perspective many see as more healthy than Aline’s, his desire to force his family all under one roof to heal together is violent and ends up dooming an entire world just to satisfy his belief. His bargain is that if we just all stopped what we were doing and stood together for a moment and process in the *right way* then it won’t hurt.

Depression and Acceptance are the axis on which Alicia and Painted Verso reside. We don’t see much of Alicia in-game (I am counting Alicia, Maelle, and Maell-icia as different people in this context, since they largely have different experiences and feelings) but during her flashback we see she isn’t doing much in the mansion, and she takes Clea’s insults and believes them to be true. She blames herself for Verso’s death, as well as the conflict her parents are locked into. We don’t know enough about the situation with the fire to make any kind of commentary on how true that is but it clearly weighs on her as she worries over her family and repeatedly seeks some way to help. She initially talks about her injuries and claims her desire to go into the canvas is more to help her family, but later on, as Maell-icia, she comments to Renoir of “how little of [her] life remains” outside the canvas, revealing a darker insight to her interiority. 

Painted Verso is one of the few characters to strongly reside in multiple modes as a character of both Depression and Acceptance. Painted Verso is someone I think I could go on another rant about but my abbreviated take is that Painted Verso is a character who is being denied the stage of acceptance by everyone around him. By the time we reach him he has known the truth and wanted out of his immortality for some time. His life has gone too long, he has watched his loved ones die or be killed off, only to learn to love again and then see them die and killed off again in a never ending cycle. While the family of his dead namesake fights over his memory in their attempt to reckon with grief, Painted Verso is forced to live through cycles of grief over and over and over again (while these people can’t even get through a single one). His acceptance goes beyond accepting grief and it has basically broken him. He wants an end to the pain for him and for everyone in the canvas that dies because of his family (on his behalf), even if that means wiping it all away. With Verso’s memories and feelings and characteristics he is the most in-tune to what Verso would want for his canvas (rivaled only by the sliver of Verso’s soul that still resides within the painting).

Which leaves one major stage remaining, something that this game as a whole, in fact, seems to lack: Anger. Sure there are flashes of it here and there (this is not a game without anger), but it is rare that we see anger ignited by grief in the main story. Gustave has flashes of it, and then after his death Maelle possesses a great anger towards Painted Renoir for his part in it. But otherwise we see the other stages spread far and wide across the game while anger is relegated to the background.

Clea is anger. And her absence haunts the narrative like the absence of anger haunts the game. Her simmering anger echoes throughout the background of the game, from abducting Painted Clea to killing an Axon to pushing Alicia into the painting, her choices compound. And while I'm fully prepared to admit I might be going wild with all the red strings on the pinboard it feels like its simmering just under the surface in anything directly related to her, like a motif. With Renoir, with Alicia, with Simon, with *herself* she is trying to inspire rage at one thing or another.

Now anyone who knows me likely knows I love themes of anger and mess so it's no surprise I love Clea so much. Clea is *angry* at the writers, and while the other family members likely share the sentiment, she is the only one seen to be stewing in that anger, who has stayed in it as long as everyone else has been mourning or bargaining or denying. As shown and stated by both herself and Renoir she is waging war alone and at the same time lashing out at anyone nearby. She blames Alicia  for Verso's death in his sacrifice for her and she shows outright disdain for Aline and her attempts to escape to a world where the tragedy didn't happen. Renoir, who is ostensibly on her side, is not immune as Clea repeatedly states he is wasting his time trying to force Aline out of the canvas. Even verso, whose death the family so greatly mourns, gets the word hate spoken towards him for his willing sacrifice for Alicia. But each of these are, in a fucked up way, some combination of care, grief, and love for each character.

Clea is not kind to Alicia, generally speaking. It is difficult to gauge what their relationship was like before Verso's death, but it was certainly worsened by the event. she belittles her and her abilities, and even a couple of instances flagrantly comments about her inability to speak from her scarring. I certainly wouldn't call it a warm dynamic but there's a repeating theme of treating Alicia like a child, *which she is* at her (likely) age of 16. In several instances Clea mentions that Alicia being in the painting would actually help (as she is unlikely to be helpful in fighting a war given her proficiency before going into the painting) and she says she won't have to worry about Alicia while she is spending time growing up in the painting as maelle. Clea even enters the painting again, something she has repeatedly said is a waste of time, to specifically ask Painted Verso to watch over her since it is safer for her in the Canvas. It's not a particularly kind love, but I think it is a love all the same. The Clea in the endless tower speaks to Maell-icia asking if she wants to have fun, get away from the stress of fighting for a moment. She is still antagonistic but her distance and Maell-icia’s safety in the canvas allow her to let down her walls enough to speak more kindly.

Clea and her mother have a rocky relationship, which we can see pretty clearly with her attitude towards her mother in the flashback and how Renoir's plan wouldn't even function without Clea's direct involvement in weakening her mother. There is an twinkle of admiration in her words, as Clea talks about how Aline used to be the head of the Painters Council, how Aline is far better at painting than Renoir is and how Clea had to help him to even have a chance, how Aline *would have* agreed with her before she became this different person in her mourning. She is also the only Dessendre child to consistently refer to her mother as “Aline” rather than “Maman”. She even paints over her mother's depiction of her, one of the most pointedly spiteful things in the game. While it is all antagonistic, I think it hides a resentment that Aline isn't with the rest of the family. The person Clea respected, who was head of the Painter’s Council, would not abandon her family — would not abandon *Clea* — like Aline has. And with her gone and unwilling to listen to anyone else on the subject, Clea has cut her out, abandoning her to the painting and only contributing to her expulsion because it will hasten Renoir to her cause.

Renoir and Clea are close, him being one of the only people she shows respect for. She doesn't speak very highly of his painting skill, and she is firm in her belief that his attempts to expel Aline are a waste of time, but he wants to live with his family in the real world, which is the closest that Clea has to someone to grieve with. And so she creates the nevrons to stop chroma from returning to Aline, and letter sends Alicia to go help him too. She really wants him out of the painting, thinking he will be of major assistance in the war she is fighting (despite her comment that he's not as strong as his wife). And the admiration is mutual. While there is some debate in the game if it is Clea or Alicia who is Renoir's favorite, we can see with Hauler, the Axon slain by Simon in Old Lumiere, that Renoir saw her as carrying a part of the world on her shoulders. Alone. Clea’s ostensible lack of care towards the events of the canvas is repeatedly betrayed by her actual actions that add up to Renoir’s eventual success. 

We don’t know much about the war going on, but we know that Clea is the only one in her family fighting in it, potentially the only person fighting in it *at all* if the throwaway lines about the state of the Painters is indicative of anything. Upon Verso’s death she starts fighting. And then Aline withdraws from the world leaving her family to grieve without her around, a betrayal from a woman and paintress Clea seems to respect. Renoir, the only one who seems to want everyone together, goes into the canvas to bring his wife out. Clea is left to sort things out on her own, using anger and fighting a war single handed to process her feelings. And all of this on top of having to care for her newly scarred younger sister (who Clea is already having a hard time not blaming for Verso's death) because her parents have abandoned them both. 

But Clea is a grown woman. She can handle this. And then time wears on. and on. So she creates Nevrons to speed the process up, to get her parents back. She goes in herself only to discover a painted version of her likeness, some kind woman helping this man she loves on an expedition to explore this newly shattered world. It's such an insult to Clea that she steals this fake version of her and *paints over her* — both a mark of skill as well as a pointed aggression towards Aline, painting over another artist's work. It’s easy to assume that she is simply offended by Aline painting a bad or unflattering depiction of her, but I think it’s actually the opposite. We know Aline is an amazing painter, Renoir remarks that Painted Verso is one of her finest creations and Maelle/Maell-icia both have an affinity towards Painted Alicia and seem to understand each other on an intrinsic level. Renoir and Painted Renoir interact very little but despite Maell-icia’s comment to the contrary, both are quite willing to commit mass murder to protect their respective families in the way they think is correct. I don’t think Aline got Clea wrong, I think she got Clea *deeply* and *uncomfortably* right. 

Clea, in her anger and her already growing disdain for her mother, sees this woman who loves and cares for her family, for her brother and for Simon, and loses it. It is too painful to see a version of herself happy and in love; and in anger and jealousy she steals her away and “forces” this Clea into someone endlessly producing Nevrons — alone and fighting her own war against the expeditions without her family. Clea disguises herself as her Painted counterpart and grants Simon the power to kill the Axon painted in her likeness — Hauler, She Who Carries the World (that’s not an official title but god I just *really* want to know what it was). In one fell swoop she has erased herself from the canvas and from both parents; leaving one corpse as a monument in the center of the world among crumbling ruins and one corpse an animated puppet painted over her likeness and trapped in a sky prison.

The final piece of the puzzle is verso, who we learn Clea was very very close to. The only canonical age we have is verso, who is 26, so it is difficult to draw hard lines around childhood, but given that Clea is the eldest and Alicia seems to be quite a bit younger than Verso, it makes sense that Clea would be closer to him than her. She would have spent 10ish years with him (which we get some small glimpses into throughout the game) before Alicia came along. We get a lot of stories about the two of them through fading souls and talking to Esquie and Francois. Verso is scared of the dark and Clea makes him the Lampmaster (scary as fuck nightlight), the two of them go on adventures with their respective imaginary friends/creations. In the extended scene where Esquie gets Urrie we learn that Francois enjoys dancing and singing, and that he used to do so with Clea all the time. While initially unclear if this is just Esquie's optimistic perspective on the situation, the ending in which Francois asks to keep the little stone (with him and clea carved together) shows us francois “crying dramatically” over the rock (and Verso commenting about how much he must miss her). If you go back to him later Francois actually *thanks* the player for giving him the rock, saying it is nice to have a carving of Clea. These memories and her parent’s depictions of her paint a very different image than the one we see in her few real appearances.

The personal nail in the coffin for me is Re-Painted Clea seeing Painted Verso in the flying manor. When you make your way up there Verso is surprised she is even alive, a testament to how well Clea pulled off her deception. After the fight the party determines that they can’t really kill her, but something causes one of Re-Painted Clea’s eyes to return to normal, accompanied by the sound of panting effort. Painted Clea regains control, if only briefly, and tries to reach out to Painted Verso, her brother. Her body cracks and strains at the movement, like she is fighting off Clea’s Re-painting just to hold his hand again. The effort isn't enough and Re-Painted Clea takes control again, backing away and shaking her head. She takes control of her Nevrons and bids them to attack her relentlessly until she dies in an explosion of paint and energy. Painted Verso only gets a moment to say goodbye to the energy left over before it dissipates. Painted Clea seeing the fight with Painted Verso is enough to give her the will to fight back against the weakened control, and Re-Painted Clea sees Painted Verso as enough of a threat to her control that she kills herself rather than risk it again (yet another cruel bit of programming from Clea in her Re-Painting process).

Honestly I could probably keep going and getting less and less coherent given that we have so little to work with but YOU SEE MY VISION. I KNOW YOU DO. Clea baby I love you and your anger. Your belief that anger will defeat the grief and that you can outrun it you just have to become meaner and more spiteful and don’t stop running and running and running or it will catch you in the dead of night. And then your grief will make you useless just like your family is. And what good are you if you don’t have use.

Fuck. Clea Dessendre.

[sugurugetofavoritemonkey]

nex

Summary : You were ordered to kill Rufus Shinra, alas things didn’t go as planned…It could be said that Rufus was the one who got to play with you the way he desired.

Pairing : Rufus Shinra x f! Reader

Word Count : 2.560 words

Warnings : Smut, p in v sex, talking about murder (there is none), RUFUS IS A TEASE 🫠, light choking (sexy), mention of blood (light I think), Dom!Rufus, but a soft one ? (He’s still a fucking tease and control freak but I love him), enemies to lovers kinda ? (But in a quick way), a bit of nipple play, this man embarrasses and praises you at the same time, marking, Rufus cums inside, he plays with your pussy (no fingering), cum licking. Sorry I don’t even know how to TW anymore (please tell me if I forgot anything, thank you🥺).

Author’s Note : This man has me in such a chokehold, it’s not even funny anymore. I don’t even know what this is, sorry if it’s bad, I just got extremely inspired by this man. 🤍 Please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language. Though please tell me if I made errors, that would be lovely. 💞

Divider’s Credits : @/strangergraphics

You were assigned to the murder of president Rufus Shinra. A simple task as they said, nothing you couldn’t handle. You laughed internally at the thought of it. Then how did you end up in this predicament ? Your form pressed up against the glass wall of Rufus’ office, your hands locked behind your back by the blonde man who pushes his body firmly against your back, as your dagger was laying on the ground near your right foot.

« Simple my ass », you muttered under your breath. Rufus was quicker and stronger than they told you, it was so easy for him to manhandle you into this position after you tried to slit his throat that Rufus almost thought that this was a joke as he chuckled against your ear, not in the least unsettled by your « attack ».

« Tsk-Tsk what do we have here hmm ? », Rufus pondered more to himself than to you, his foot pushing aside the blade on the floor, eyeing the weapon for a second before asking.

« Who sent you ? Was it Avalanche ? », his tone was calm and stoic. Another chuckle fell from his lips at your silence, he knew he would break you one way or another, he just had to wait and take his time, and Rufus was well provided with patience.

His hold on your wrists became tighter, not to the point of hurting, more to make you understand the position you were actually in. He had you trapped here, alone with him and you won’t escape this building as easily as you entered.

« Cat got your tongue, precious ? It would be a shame to force my hand and hurt such a pretty thing just to get the answers that I’ll obtain one way or another. »

The first answer that Rufus got wasn’t to his liking. You hit his nose with the back of your head harshly, laughing at the groan that escaped from his lips. You thought that would be enough to break free from his grasp but oh how you were wrong. With his free hand Rufus wiped the blood from his nose, creating a red streak on his cheek and on his black glove. Alas, the grin that Rufus wore didn't diminished in the slightest. He was even more eager to discipline you. His blood-coated fingers delicately went to run from your chin, on the column of your throat that gulped with anticipation and to the base of your neck, stopping there for a moment before tightening his hold on the tender skin of your throat, just enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, a surprised gasp escaping your lips. His breath feels hot on your skin when his mouth comes closer to your ear, his smile evident.

« I’m going to enjoy breaking you, sweetheart. I don’t think you realize what situation you’re in. »

You smiled at the statement, turning your face back just enough to lock gaze with Rufus, the movement barely feasible with Rufus’ grip on your neck. « Care to enlighten me, dear president ? », you asked with apparent sarcasm.

His fingers tighten just a little more on your pretty little throat, just enough to cut some air out of your lungs for a moment.

« Wipe that smile off your face before I do it for you. », Rufus threatened in a composed manner, the frown on his face distracting you for a second, as if his blue eyes gazed directly at your soul, two unsettling gems that were watching your every move. You gulped at the feeling, sensing how small you actually were in front of him. Rufus’ smile widened when his hand that squeezed your windpipe felt you gulping. However, even though your smile faded, a defiant smirk still lingered on your pretty face that almost screamed challenge in its eyes. And Rufus couldn’t lie to himself, he was enjoying this, more than he could ever admit.

« You’re a defiant one, aren’t you love ? », Rufus whispered confidently, the hold on your throat easing just a bit. Your face turned back to the glass wall in front of you, but even though you tried to escape his piercing stare, the glass mirrored his reflection temptingly in front of you. You couldn’t escape him and Rufus hasn’t stopped toying with you. You didn’t know how you felt about this, your brain screamed at you that it was wrong, alas the other parts of yourself wanted to let themself be convinced by the blonde man. Still, you tried to resist, tried.

« Stop calling me that. », you tried to sound harsh, wanting to convince him - you, that you weren’t interested, that this man wasn’t interesting, that the warmth that was building in the pit of your stomach was just an illusion. But Rufus easily noticed the light break in your voice, the fragility in which he could penetrate. His hand that rested against your throat was now sliding teasingly towards your collarbones, smearing some of his blood there as well. His tone became softer, coated with honey, toying with your mind and self-restraints.

« You’re not used to being called sweet names ? To be touched like that ? Is that why you came here ? »

You spat back, « Of course not », but still you didn’t move, Rufus noticed. His fingers softly went down, sliding over your cleavage to rest on one of your breasts. His thumb curiously rubbed your hardened nipple, making you let out a strangled whine at the touch and making Rufus chuckle in your ear. At this point you weren’t even fighting back anymore, your hands in his hold grew limps behind your back. Your body unconsciously leaned towards his torso and he hasn’t barely done anything.

« You’re so sensitive, such a sweet angel, aren’t you ? »

The unexpected praise made you blush, making you hide your face away from his prying eyes, to no avail. Rufus took your chin in his free hand, leaving your breasts aching for his touch, and gently turned your face back towards his. His ice-blue gaze and cruel teasing smile made you feel even smaller now. And at this instant, Rufus really debated with himself if getting rid of you was a good idea, he much preferred to take your mouth in his.

The tantalizing idea wasn’t even rational to him, he wasn’t his usual self, you were a threat, he perfectly knew that eventuality. But the president of Shinra Company also found himself completely lost in the way you were unconsciously biting your lip and gazing down at his own mouth. Brushing the rational thoughts aside, Rufus closed the gap between the two of you, a kiss held with such possessive feelings that even himself felt surprised. Hesitantly you kissed back, even though Rufus kept leading the dance during the kiss, biting your lower lip to make you gasp so he could taste your mouth with his tongue. Your neck started aching with the position you were in, Rufus holding your jaw firmly from the back to keep kissing you. His kisses grew lighter as his breathing became heavier and Rufus broke the kiss to breathe against your mouth. As you turned back to face the glass wall in front of you, Rufus let go of your hands so you could brace yourself against the surface.

Rufus got closer to you, towering over you as he pressed himself against your back so tight that Rufus cornered you between him and the transparent wall, your hands on the wall being the only things creating a small gap for you to breathe. Rufus’ body was so close to yours that you could feel his evident boner that he made sure to teasingly rub against your ass while one of his hands gripped your side, firmly holding you in place the way he desired.

« You can be such an obedient angel when you want to. You just need a little…discipline. » Rufus’ free hand started caressing your body deliberately slowly as a way to show you just how much he held your pleasure in the palm of his hand. He possessively held your jaw from behind with the hand that was not tightening on your side, letting his hand slide down the column of your throat that he felt pulsating with need, letting it rest there just to make you guess if he would choke you like earlier or not. To your disliking he didn’t, toying with you as he preferred to let his hand reach your covered breasts once again. At first, Rufus just let his fingers trail over your erect nipples, passing over them without actually touching them or giving them the attention they craved so desperately. Rufus took great delight in hearing you whine his name out loud, a silent plea that made him feel prideful. Two of his fingers started to play with your nipples cruelly by rolling the buds of nerves between them, alternating with fully groping your chest, making you let out a moan of pleasure that you tried to hold back. The bastard perfectly knew what he was doing, Rufus knew how he was affecting you, a grin plastered on his face as he sensed your heavy breathing, the butterflies dancing in your stomach as his hand trailed down between your thighs that were rubbing against each other in anticipation. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, lapping the skin there as his mouth left a few bites here and there, leaving marks for all to see as his hair tickled your sensitive skin.

His black boots nudge your feet apart in order to part your thighs wider, letting him access below your skirt and to his surprise and contentment his fingers already find you oh so perfectly prepared for him. His hands slide between your pussy lips on top of your already drenched panties, the movement creating a lewd wet sound between his fingers as Rufus groans into your ear appreciatively before pressing a kiss under your earlobe.

« Shouldn’t you be ashamed ? Being this wet for the man you were ordered to kill and yet I’m the one that gets to play with you, isn’t this ironic ? », Rufus chuckles darkly.

At the humiliation you try to unwillingly close your thighs around his hand but Rufus is quicker and forces your legs open again, with a tone that requires only one answer from you.

« Do as I say. », and you do, you became so enthralled by the man, that it almost feels instinctive when you execute and open them even wider for him, causing Rufus to reward you with an open-mouth kiss on the cheek, his hand resuming the teasing movements as his fingers rub between your covered puffy wet lips, the lewd sound echoing even more in his office now as you crave for more.

« Good girl, you finally understood who’s in charge here, maybe we can get something out of you after all. »

Rufus gets off on your soft mewling cries as he continue to edge you a bit more, his fingers now drenched in your own arousal as he plays with your pussy in a way that pleases him, as Rufus try fingering you through your panties, letting you feel only the tip of his finger that can’t reach deeper due to the material blocking his movements.

« P-Please Rufus, you’re cruel… », he can hear you whine desperately, as a pleased chuckle escapes from his lips at your already messy state.

« Since you asked like a polite girl… », Rufus drags the sentence as he pulls your panties to your trembling ankles, the material sticking to your cunt in the process as Rufus admires the effect he has on you. His soiled fingerless-gloved hand reaches to your mouth, you understand the silent demand from him immediately as you open your mouth to clean his fingers, your tongue lapping at them as his fingers massage your tongue with your own wetness. When Rufus removes his fingers from your mouth he murmurs sweet nothings in your ear in an appreciative tone. When you think that you’ll finally feel his fingers where you need them the most, you’re surprised to sense him unbuckling his belt behind you, soon followed by his hard cock nudging at your wet entrance, his hand guiding his cock through your folds, coating himself with your arousal.

Your chest starts to heave more and more when you think that he’ll edge you once again and as you were about to whine out loud to make him move, Rufus thrusts the head of his dick inside you slowly but with enough force that it pushes you against the glass wall. When Rufus is finally sheathed to the hilt inside you, his office is silent except for the sound of your labored breaths, Rufus holds you possessively by your hips as his head rests on your shoulder for a moment. Rufus isn’t known for his reassuring presence, yet in this moment the many kisses that he places on any patch of skin that he can find are enough to appease your beating heart. Rufus towers over you from behind when he places a kiss on your temple, on your cheek and the side of your throat, ending with numerous open-mouth kisses where your neck meets your shoulder.

When he starts moving, his pace is slow and steady, increasing in speed as the vice grip your walls have on him, paired with your high moans, starts to make Rufus dizzy. He knew you were close, his cock could barely move the way he wanted with how tight you got, he just had to give you a little push. Rufus groaned as he nuzzled the side of your face, gazing at your blurry reflection on his transparent wall, smirking at you when he locked his eyes with yours and started whispering with a hint of truth in his last words.

« How do you feel knowing that the entire building just have to look up to see you being fucked stupid by their president ?What would people think, hmm love ? Wouldn’t they think that I own you ? They’ll be smart to think as such. »

With that, you came on Rufus’s cock with a moan of his name, as Rufus finished inside your pussy soon after, moaning in your ear as he painted your walls white, a bit of his seed already oozing out of you as it trickled down your thighs. Even after you came down from your orgasm, your body was still trembling slightly with everything that Rufus made you feel. You were thankful for his strong arms that held you against him, preventing you from falling down out of exhaustion. Your head rested against him as you closed your eyes for a moment, your mind dozing off as you felt Rufus’s face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, pressing a gentle kiss here. You could hear Rufus whispering something that you couldn’t quite grasp but you still discerned his soothing tone as he kept you tightly against him.

« I might keep you after all »

[allieebobo]

Do you have any if recommendation?

Ooh! I have really, really bad memory(!!) but these are current faves that I have played/replayed recently that I can think of. A lot of the authors are also THE BEST HUMAN BEINGS EVER. So, double recommendation.

I probably missed a bunch out, so take this as a non-exhaustive list! In no particular order:

(Edit: Added some descriptions but yeah I got a little unhinged so I'm sorry nothing makes sense or if the quality of the write-up went down over time/did not actually give you any useful info)

WIPs with demos

Citadel, @bouncyballcitadel (I think of all the IFs on this list, this one makes me sweat the most. And I've said it once and I'll say it again: the dialogue is so snappy and well-written, and characters are SO DAMNED LOVEABLE.)

Infamous, @infamous-if (I've been manifesting Band/Musician IFs for the longest time, and then this popped up! I've even played Choice of a Rockstar, that's how desperate I was... Anyway, this is legions better than that. Angsty ex routes are my kryptonite, and Seven is just. Inevitable.)

Defiled Hearts: The Barbarian, @defiledheartsblog (I went into this wanting something juicy and fun/historical—and it's all of those things, but I didn't expect it to be so damned funny, too. The ROs are all impeccable.)

Raiders of the Caravan and Apartment 3-3, @leftski-if (A'ight listen, fantasy slice-of-life is my fave genre, and these are IT. Like, everything I never knew I needed in my life, and SO cozy/wholesome, with a cast of characters that I want to befriend in real life.)

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: An Affair of the Heart @doriana-gray-games (First off, the customization in this game is INSANE, and the branching too. I've replayed a couple of times and the little variations I discover each time just blows my mind. Secondly, it's so funny and written so well. Ngl I'm not a Sherlock fan but that's just testament to how amazing this IF is.)

When Life Gives You Lemons, @when-life-gives-you-lemonssss (Modern slice-of-life with an adorable kid, a bunch of hot ROs, CC. Hill's humor, what can I say?)

Golden @milaswriting (Really interesting world-building, one of the coolest fictional cities I've read in an IF, AND I'm obsessed with the ROs, in particular K de la Renta. Also Mila is such an awesome writer, I'm beyond excited for @beyondthegame.)

A Tale of Crowns @ataleofcrowns (This game is beautiful, polished, and SO exciting. Honestly, it looks like the kind of game created by a whole-ass game studio and would cost $50 to buy, it's that good. I really got swept up by this IF—probably played it all in one go.)

Rougi @rougi-if (Again, another game with scrumptious visuals/UI and also is just so well-crafted. I love the premise too, it's so original and fresh.)

Scout: An Apocalypse Story @anya-dev (Unfortunately this one might be on hiatus but I am/was really, really obsessed.)

Wayfarer @idrellegames (Love the game mechanics of this one, and the visuals. Probably controversial, but I like the D&D / random dice effect. And I also like the fact that it feels like an old-school RPG.)

Chop shop @losergames (The premise is all I needed to be sold, really—I'd always wanted to buy GTA as a kid but my parents were like NO WAY. Anyway, this IF did not disappoint, and let me live all my childhood dreams.)

Edit: AHH! How could I forget, one of my recent faves, Folksaga @folksaga-if (Lush atmospheric writing, super unique premise—norse mythology, plus I'm head over heels for Katla).

Completed IFs

Butterfly Soup 1 and 2 @brianna-lei (these are completed and I will never not promote them. Honestly the most adorable, wholesome, funny sports/coming-of-age IF I've read)

Elsinore: After Hamlet @lapinlunairegames (Insanely cool premise, insanely cool execution)

The Thick Table Tavern @manonamora-if (I love bar/tavern games, and this one actually lets you mix drinks! Instant fave.)

Other HGs/COGs I love: Slammed, Tin Star, Fallen Hero, If it pleases the court, A Player's Heart (these last two are so underrated, though I guess cause it's mainly wlw)

[loquaciousquark]

you have been my #1 favorite fanfic author of all time for like 7-8 years now for your fenhawke and ive always thought "god i would give anything for quark to write solavellan" but i respected that it wasnt your thing. so imagine the pure unbridled euphoria of checking in on your blog this week to see that he finally got to you. i actually screamed. whatever you come up with i know it is going to absolutely change my life and i am so excited <3

i’m so. sad. i'm SO sad. i was so happy for a decade just being mildly annoyed every time he crossed my dash and now i am having feelings and opinions and i don’t WANT THEM and the only way to get rid of them is to write them out of me, this is why i don’t love fenris or astarion at all anymore obviously

and like, I still don’t love Solas! I still think some things he does and some goals he has are really, really stupid! but this character I created to love him really loves him, and I really love her and want her to be happy even though she lives only inside my head, and that means I need to lay down some structure around her romance to get the shape of it, to build something I can make sense of. I may not love him, but I like him much more than I did, and I certainly understand him better than I did the first time around.

And to be honest, there’s a part of me glad I’m coming to it as late as I have. I don’t think I’ve ever read a single Solavellan fic in my life (I actually had to pause here to check the spelling). I have NO idea what tropes are popular with him or what interpretations are the biggest. I have a lot of opinions on how his personality and identity work in a romance with this particular character I’ve created, but because I’ve been so siloed I have no idea if I’m bucking the grain or not, which is fine by me.

Plus, it helps I’m not going to have ten years to build up a lot of personal headcanons and jossable thoughts before playing the new game. I’m not someone who easily ignores canon when it clashes with my imagination for the major things, so I think this will (hopefully) keep me from major disappointments.

It's kinda funny; earlier today I was going back through my DAI tag and reminding myself of all my impressions from the first time I played the game. Some of them I definitely still stand by; others have completely changed. I even said twice that a Lavellan/Solas romance would be my next playthrough, which was true if ten years late.

But it's things like: apparently the first time through I loved Solas and Sera, both of which certainly were not true going into this replay. (I barely even have a memory of Solas and Priory ever being in the party together, though the historical records say I took him to Adamant.) I apparently had a lot of hopes Gideon Emery would be voicing Fenris. I originally thought Priory was going to romance Bull, which is very ?????? after all this time. (I did still, even then, know Here Lies the Abyss completely broke her as a character, and ten years on I never could fix her for good.)

I really did not expect to change my mind on Solas going into this replay, I guess is the point. I replayed because knowing the story of DAI and Solas, I felt it was a story most personalized to elves and specifically a Solas-romancing Lavellan, and that was the worldstate I wanted to take into the new game. I played it out because that's the kind of person I am (I can't just invent characters wholesale in my head) but I really thought it was going to be a perfunctory playthrough as a stepping stone to a different game and a different PC and (presumably) a different romance. I didn't expect to love this character as much as I do, and even if I don't have ten years to write her out the way I did Hawke, I feel like I still owe it to her & her doomed romance to give her a little time in the spotlight. Lucky girl!

[advantage-artrick]

the sheer amount of puppy!art content that is generated in this fandom makes me fucking feral.

honestly i've always been more of a kitten/bunny person when it comes to babygirlifying imagining my favorite characters in pet play scenarios, but puppy just fits his specific kind of needy so well. like, so well it hurts.

it's honestly my favorite thing ever, which is why i can't help but wish there was more puppy!art x patrick content being regularly posted. like, a girl needs to be fed sometimes! 🥲😭

anyway, here's my formal audition to be sworn in as a contributer to the cause.

CW: an obnoxious amount of build-up for very little smut, puppy!art but he's literally a hybrid, nsfw content (dry humping, light humiliation kink, pet play but they're not exactly pretending, lots of gay shit, etc). mdni please!

XOXO 💋

when i think about puppy art, i usually imagine him as like a legit puppy/human hybrid of sorts. like a human with real ears and a real tail who happens to have a lot of the mannerisms of a puppy (don't judge, i literally grew up on ao3).

anyway, in a world where these hybrids exist, i imagine they're considered lesser beings because they're much more instinct-driven than their full-human counterparts. however, they are dearly beloved and often kept as household assistants and companions.

hybridism is a very rare, recessive genetic trait, so children who are born with it are usually sold to shelters for millions of dollars, especially those resembling sweet, domesticated animals such as dogs, cats, and rabbits.

when art was born, he was no exception. his parents took one look at his floppy blonde ears and decided they'd rather have wealth and a "real" child instead of the. . . pet they'd just created. so, he got sold and they tried again, disappointed but still several millions richer.

the instant he was old enough to be adopted, he was snatched right up by the zweig family and put in the care of their hired nanny. their precious son, patrick, wasn't quite old enough to enjoy art's company yet, but he did like pulling on his tail and crawling after him as art rolled around happily on the carpet.

on patrick's fourth birthday, right before he started preschool, his parents revealed that they had purchased art to be his registered companion, and that they would be attending school together in the fall.

patrick was thrilled, and art didn't really care who he belonged to as long as they played with him, so from that point on, they were inseparable.

they had a wonderful childhood full of love and adventure, and they spent their afternoons and summers frolicking around the zweig estate (or whatever vacation home they happened to be staying at). they were happy together, and patrick never felt the need for a best friend who was more like him, because art was so human, it surprised him sometimes. because art was active, and funny, and sassy when he wanted to be, and he was really fucking good at tennis. they could play, and wrestle, and banter for hours, and if art liked to roll around in the grass more than he did and chase after butterflies until his legs gave out, well that wasn't strange at all. that was just art, and patrick wouldn't have wanted his best friend to be any other way (especially when all he had to do to win any argument was toss a ball down a hill and say "fetch").

now, they were in their third year at MRTA, and the zweigs' decision to enroll art in all of patrick's classes from their first semester was quickly proving to the world just what hybrids were truly capable of. despite the teeth marks decorating all his pencils, art was surprisingly good at math, and he and patrick were damn near unstoppable as doubles partners. all in all, everything was great.

but that was also when things first started to change between them.

art had never been a particularly social hybrid. he wasn't awkward or shy by any means, and he got along well with everyone he was introduced to, but if he was ever found at a party with patrick, it was because he was heavily coerced into going.

because of this, when patrick started to get invited to more and more hang outs and big events on the weekends, art found himself spending more and more time alone at their dorm.

which, he very quickly discovered, was his least favorite thing in the world.

he was so used to having patrick's undivided attention and filling the role of his companion at every second of every day. the only reason he didn't suck it up and go with patrick to every party was that he'd heard people cracking jokes behind his back about how pat couldn't do anything without his little puppy following him around.

he didn't want to hold his best friend back like that. he loved him too much to be the reason he got made fun of.

so, he stayed behind, doing his homework to pass the time until patrick came through the door hours later.

he didn't love geometry by any means, but he preferred to spend his free hours doing what he could to break the dumb puppy stereotype that followed several of the other academy hybrids around campus. those were the hybrids who weren't enrolled in classes like he was, and whose owners treated them more like pets than like people.

art wasn't one of them. he didn't sit by the door and whine until patrick came home to pet him. . . he wasn't like that. . .

but his desk chair was so uncomfortable, and could feel his insides tying themselves into knots in patrick's absence. this was the third weekend in a row that he'd been left all alone on a friday night, and he couldn't take it any more.

so, when patrick finally got home around one-thirty, he opened the door to find art sitting on the floor right next to it with his back against the wall, doodling tiredly on a trig worksheet.

"hey," patrick said, looking at him curiously. he closed the door behind him, going to stand in front of art when he didn't immediately stand up. ". . . whatcha doin' down there?"

he was clearly not sober, but it was far from the worst art had seen him. art shrugged, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor.

"my chair's too hard," he mumbled.

"and the floor isn't?" patrick asked him suspiciously.

art just shrugged again. there was aong moment of silence where patrick just watched him, waiting for him to smile or stand or something.

but art just sat there, studying the cracks between the floorboards.

patrick sighed, trudging over to sit down on his bed in relief. art looked up at him then, feeling so many things he couldn't quite explain. patrick was right there. he'd come home, but art still felt so. . . kicked. so abandoned.

"some of the guys asked where you were tonight," patrick mentioned, his hands fidgeting in his lap. "i said you were back at the dorm, and. . . some girl- god, she was so drunk- she started saying that i was a terrible owner for leaving you all alone, and that she's seen us around campus and she hates how i make you 'ignore your instincts,' as if it would weird me out or something if you ever. . ."

patrick trailed off, contemplating what exactly he was trying to say. art watched him nervously, still not moving from his spot on the floor.

"have you been?" patrick asked after a while. "ignoring your urges or whatever? i mean, a lot of people are just so surprised by how smart and how mature you are, and it's cool if that's really you, but you know i would never think it was weird if you wanted to. . . you know. . . i don't know, just forget it, man."

art frowned, shifting up onto his knees. it was true that he had been trying so hard to live up to all the things that were often said about him. he practiced pushing down feelings until he barely felt them anymore, trying to make sure no one took his place as patrick's best friend while he became just another useless pet.

now, years later, he didn't even chase the balls patrick threw for him anymore. he was so human, it hurt. he just never expected patrick to actually call him out on it.

"i wasn't even going to mention it, but when i came in and saw you sitting there like that. . ." patrick sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair. "art, you know my parents didn't spend millions of dollars on you for another son, right? they only care that you're smart because it's one more thing they can show off at a banquet. and even if they did want you to be all sophisticated and shit, i'd tell them to fuck right off, okay? i want you to be yourself. there's nothing wrong with being a hybrid, art. honestly, i. . . i want my puppy back."

art watched him sadly, unable to stop his eyes from watering. he hadn't realized how much his repression had been affecting them both until patrick had started leaving him alone. turns out, there were some feelings that came from his animal side that were just too strong to ignore.

whining softly, art tipped forward onto his hands and knees, giving into his urges completely as he crawled over to settle in between patrick's thighs. he sat back on his heels, staring up at him with his big, wet eyes.

patrick just stared at him in awe for a moment, reaching out with one hand to stroke his curls gently.

"does this feel wrong to you, artie?" he asked finally, scratching his ear with a loving smile.

art shook his head, closing his eyes and leaning into his best friend's touch. truthfully, nothing had ever felt more right in his entire life. it was such a relief that he couldn't stop the tears from slipping down his flushed cheeks.

"good boy," patrick whispered, grinning at the shiver it sent shooting through art's whole body. "i knew you were still in there somewhere."

art whined, scooting in even closer so he could rest his chin on patrick's upper thigh. patrick kept petting him for a while, allowing them to settle into the new dynamic that was gradually forming between them.

"there we go, puppy. i knew you were holding out on me," patrick breathed, holding the back of his neck possessively. "i missed you so fucking much, you have no idea. you haven't been the same since we got to the academy, baby. i just know it's been killing you, hasn't it?"

art whined again, nuzzling into the space between patrick's thighs so that his nose was pressed right up against his crotch. he inhaled deeply, basking in the unfiltered but familiar scent of his owner until he was reprimanded, his head being gently pushed away.

art didn't like this very much, and within seconds he was right back where he wanted to be, his chin resting on the edge of the mattress as he breathed it in again. patrick sighed, letting him stay there for a moment longer than before, but after a while he got embarrassed by art's persistent huffing and he pushed him away once more.

"i know i promised not to think you're weird for following your urges and all that, but i'd be lying if i said i was thrilled that one of them is trying to sniff my ass" he teased, scratching art's ears again in consolation.

unfortunately, after being on his knees and getting pet for what seemed like hours to the two of them, art was too deep in a headspace he'd never felt before to register patrick's discomfort.

the third time it happened, patrick didn't even try to push him away. instead, he reached over to grab a tennis ball from his nightstand, and tossed it lightly to art's side of the room.

art perked up, watching it fly and land on the floor by his bed. without patrick even having to give the command, he was turning around and crawling towards it.

he plucked it from the ground with his teeth before making his way back over and dropping it gingerly in patrick's lap. patrick grinned excitedly, feeling a childish glee bubbling up inside of him. the thrill he got in that moment was so nostalgic, it was almost painful.

"good boy," he praised, and then he tossed the ball again.

turns out, all art needed was a little reminder that before he was anything else, he was patrick's. he had nothing to prove to anyone. as long as he kept bringing his favorite ball back to his best friend's waiting hands, everything was going to be just fine.

from that moment on, art relaxed much more into the idea of being owned. he stopped trying to be more human than was expected of him, and every time patrick ruffled his hair and called him a good boy, he got a little more proud to be a hybrid.

people noticed, of course, but if anyone dared to mention it in a not-so-positive way, patrick was quick to tell them where they could shove their bullshit prejudices. all in all, their last years together at the academy were amazing.

it wasn't until their senior year that their relationship started to change again.

"go take a fucking shower, dude. you still smell like her," art complained one night, shoving patrick out of his own bed and onto the floor.

"what the fuck?" patrick exclaimed, disgruntled as he sat upright. "you're the one who came over here. you can't just kick me out of my bed, art."

art frowned, rolling himself up in patrick's blankets to prove just how serious he was about this.

"you're the one who left me here by myself all night to get laid, remember?" he reminded him petulantly. "you promised you'd pay attention to me when you got back but we've literally just been talking for fifteen whole minutes, you fucking liar."

"okay, okay," patrick laughed, standing up and brushing himself off. "i'll pay attention to you, move over."

"no," art snapped, pushing him back away from the bed. "i don't want your stupid fucking hands on me until you smell like you again."

patrick stood there for a minute, smiling without saying a word.

"what?" art spat defensively.

"you're jealous," patrick teased, sitting down on art's bed and making himself comfortable.

"no i'm not, that's ridiculo- can you get off my bed please?"

art jumped up from his spot on patrick's bed, rushing over to drag his roommate up by his wrists and shove him towards their bathroom.

"aww it's okay, artie. i'm sorry i left you alone for two whole hours," patrick cooed at him, reaching out to pat his head before art pushed him backwards again. he stumbled towards the shower, still laughing at how mad art was pretending to be. "if i'd known you were feeling needy, i would've stayed home with you. you know that, puppy," he promised, smiling at him lovingly.

"shut up, 'm not," art grumbled, blushing and keeping his gaze fixed on the floor as patrick tugged his shirt over his head. "just get in the shower, asshole."

while patrick was busy washing off the stench of amelia samson's rose perfume, art was occupying himself by rolling around restlessly in patrick's sheets. he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted the bed to smell like him, or if he wanted to smell like the bed, but either way he found it was impossible to just lie still and wait. he just kept on squirming until he was so wrapped up, he could barely move anymore.

when the water finally shut off ages later, art almost whined in excitement before he caught himself. patrick stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a fresh pair of boxers, drying his hair off with a towel while water droplets continued to slide languidly down his abs.

"okay, art, what kind of attention were you looking for?" he asked, wandering into the bedroom and tossing the damp towel aside. "we can go play, or just stay in and chill, or i'm sure we could probably find some food some. . . where. are you okay?" he asked, finally noticing that art was fully entangled in his bedsheets.

art huffed, nodding as he tried to roll around in reverse to free himself from the evil blanket trap. patrick smirked, getting him out within seconds when he finally went over to help.

"it doesn't look like you really wanna go anywhere," patrick commented, trying to stifle a laugh. "what the fuck were you tryin' to do, huh?"

art just rolled his eyes, dragging patrick down into the bed with him by his wrist. patrick went willingly, getting them settled under the covers with art so wrapped around him, he was laying almost entirely on his chest.

art relaxed immediately, listening to patrick's heartbeat and enjoying the feeling of his best friend's fingers in his hair. he was happy to find that patrick now smelled exactly like he was supposed to, if not a little too fresh for art's taste.

"this is what you wanted, hmm?" patrick asked quietly, scratching behind his ears in a practiced, very effective motion. art shivered, rubbing his cheek against patrick's bare chest like he wanted to get closer somehow.

"i knew you were jealous, you little liar. you just want me all to yourself all the time, don't you?" patrick continued, leaning down to kiss the top of art's head.

art whined, too content in that position to defend himself against patrick's very rude accusation.

"don't worry, puppy. you'll always be my good boy, you know that."

art nodded, shifting so his leg was resting even further over patrick's thighs. much to his very subdued horror, he could feel himself quickly getting hard against his owner's hip. he made no move to get away, finding that he felt too good staying right where he was to care about the embarrassment.

patrick noticed, of course, but this happened every time they cuddled in that position. it was an essential part of it, at this point. the only tricky part was finding art a pillow to hump as a replacement when he started trying to use his thigh instead.

which seemed to be happening sooner and sooner every single time. patrick tutted when he felt art's hips start to shift against his, bringing his hand down to art's waist to still his movements.

art huffed, opening his eyes to stare up at him in disappointment.

"stop it," patrick commanded, waiting until art looked back down in submission to move his hand. "i swear, it's like you get hard at the drop of a hat sometimes. i don't see how me touching your head always gets you that fucking desperate."

as if to prove his point, patrick tugged gently at the golden curls in his grasp, pulling a needy whimper from deep in art's chest. unable to hold back despite the command, art bucked his hips forward, rutting against patrick's leg until he was abruptly pushed away and pinned down against the mattress.

"jesus," patrick breathed from on top of him, staring down at art's flushed cheeks and blown pupils, and how his lips were so wet it almost looked like he was drooling. he was the prettiest thing patrick had ever seen.

besides art trying to get himself off using his roommate as a pillow, the only thing they'd ever really done together had been jerking off (or humping various objects, in art's case) in the same bed. as touchy as they were, there were several lines they had never dared to cross, but in that moment, patrick was tempted to do so much more than they ever had before.

"what is going on with you today? i know you miss me when i'm gone, baby, but i don't think i've ever seen you this needy before," he pointed out, brushing the curls away from art's forehead so he could make sure he wasn't running a fever. "you're not sick, are you?"

art didn't respond, too tapped into his puppy side to think about anything that didn't involve getting more attention or getting off. his brain was just one big pile of, 'patrick. please. touch. patrick. hump. patrick. please. daddy. please.'

patrick rolled off when he tried to rut up against him again, grabbing art's favorite pillow from the other bed and bringing it back over to him. art took it when he held it out, but he didn't immediately start fucking into it like he usually did. he waited for patrick to climb back under the covers with him before pushing it down towards his hard, weeping cock.

even when he did start humping it, he was whining sadly the whole time, and if patrick stopped petting him for even a second, he would stop moving his hips until he put his hand back. he was being insufferable, but patrick had no idea how else he could possibly help. art wouldn't even tell him what exactly was wrong with him to begin with.

not to mention, the entire situation was made worse by how art's pathetic sounds and nonstop squirming were giving patrick the most unbearable hard-on he had ever experienced.

he was this close to just tossing the pillow aside and letting art do whatever his desperate heart desired.

"what do you want?" he asked quietly, tilting art's head up so he could look him in the eyes. "i need you to use your words or you're not getting anything, okay? what do you want, puppy?"

art keened softly, thrusting against his pillow out of frustration more than arousal. he buried his face back in patrick's neck, sinking his teeth in hard as if that would get him out of answering.

"ow, fuck!" patrick hissed, trying to pry him off to no avail. "fucking bitch, what is wrong with you?" he scolded, but there was no real anger in his voice.

art whined, sucking and licking at the skin in his mouth until there was spit dripping down his chin. patrick bit his lip, loosening his grasp on the back of art's head after a while to just let him do his thing.

"fuck," he sighed, this time for a wholely different reason. "okay, okay, cut it out. art, let go."

thankfully, art actually listened this time, looking up at him with guilty eyes. patrick's serious tone seemed to have brought him out of his instinct-mode momentarily.

"sorry," he whispered, blushing brightly.

"what's up with you?" patrick asked him, raising an eyebrow in concern. "you don't usually get like this when i hook up with someone, art. tell me what's going on up there."

"i. . . don't know," art replied rolling onto his back so he could stare glumly at the ceiling. "i feel like my skin is crawling. something's not right, i know that. . . i just- i feel like i need you. . . i don't know, it's hard to tell when it doesn't come from my human side, but it really hurts."

"you. . . need me?" patrick asked him, wondering if that meant what it sounded like to him.

"not like that! well, maybe like that, i don't fucking know-"

"maybe?" patrick asked again.

"shut up! i was feeling so good before you made me stop," art pouted, crossing his arms and turning towards the wall petulantly.

"yeah, you were literally chewing on my neck! and you were trying to hump me," patrick defended, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

"i do that all the time."

"maybe, but not like this."

art turned back around, glaring at him. it was so cute, it almost made patrick crack a smile in the middle of their very serious discussion.

"why do you always make me stop, anyway? it's not like you're not into it, i can feel how fucking hard you are," art pointed out, glancing down as if he could see patrick's erection through the sheets.

"you're never in your right mind, art," patrick reminded him, bringing a hand back up to play with his curls again to hopefully calm him down a little. "if you tell me right now, to my face, what you want to do, i will let you do it. we've just never had good enough communication for that sort of thing."

"okay, fine," art agreed, looking very determined at first, but after a moment of silence he began to shift nervously.

"i want. . ." he began, avoiding eye contact as he tried painstakingly to finish a single sentence.

"spit it out, artie," patrick teased, pulling him in closer by his hips.

"shut up," art hissed, taking a deep breath before trying again. "i want. . . to use you. . . as a pillow."

"okay, baby," patrick whispered, and it turns out it really had been that easy all along. "but do you want me, or do you just want friction?"

"i think. . . um. . . well, if you kissed me, i guess i wouldn't mind," art replied, feigning nonchalance as if patrick couldn't see right through him.

"so how long have you been in love with me, exactly?" patrick asked, smirking.

"i didn't say that."

"you didn't have to."

". . . i don't know. a long time."

"yeah? good to know," patrick responded, and then he pulled art by his neck into the filthiest, hottest, most loving kiss they had ever experienced.

art moaned desperately, his legs finding their way back to his favorite position in a heartbeat, and this time when he started thrusting, patrick encouraged it.

"that's it. there you go, puppy, just like that. . .

good boy."

i was originally planning to add a lot more smut to this, but then i decided i wanted it to be more of an intro to these characters and their dynamic, and then all of the super nsfw posts i'll keep seperate and slightly shorter!

hope you like these two because i really do, and i'd love to hear your ideas for smut oneshots i could put together for them! i promise nothing is too out there, so please fire away!

XOXO 🥰💋

[yuurivoice]

Hi Yuuri! Have you ever given any thought to what your next step in life would be when you depart from the ASMR community? I don’t mean like passing or anything, just like, when you feel your work on the channel and this community is done? What kind of legacy/imprints do you think you’ll leave behind? I apologize if this is too personal, you don’t have to answer!

I think I'll always be creating and storytelling in some form or fashion. This isn't just a hobby, it's my career. There's no plan B. I have no other skills, job experience, etc. so I'm in it for the long haul.

I have other interests and aspirations that are adjacent to what I'm doing now, like writing a book, but that's not an insignificant mountain to climb while I'm already tackling big projects.

I'd love to write for a game, podcast, graphic novel, or anything along those lines. Writing for games was the very first dream I ever had, it was my childhood aspiration after playing Final Fantasy VII. It didn't occur to me that it wouldn't be that easy. I sorta wound up this close to the mark on accident, so it would be funny to actually accomplish that for little YV one day.

The biggest hurdle with all of that is that the best way to make it happen is to go and build and create it myself. But I'm already at capacity for what I can manage.

The good news is, I am already in love with what I'm doing. I do not feel unfulfilled, or like I'm wasting my efforts. I'm kicking a lot of ass.

One day, the right doors will open for more. I'll make the right connection, the right people will find me, and opportunities will arise. The best way I can ensure that happens is to keep following my passion and refining my abilities.

As for impact, I hope that I've inspired people to find their voice creatively. To not try and follow the beaten paths and find new ways to create and share their own stories. To do it for the love of the game and not because you might make money, or be a part of a community. Those things come when you're in it for the right reasons. And to love harder, find forgiveness where it's worth giving, and burn the bridges that are holding you back. And to be yourself, unapologetically. To advocate for yourself and your perspective and your value.

I think I've done that. The amount of lovely messages I received in response to the BSDC, and all the ones before that, have helped confirm that I'm right where I need to be doing exactly what I need to do.

So I'm riding this until the wheels fall off! Thanks for joining me on the ride. 💖

[dereks-unrelenting-heart]

SFTH Chaotic Highlights (The Dark Moons of Slough)

My fourth longform highlights post and I think I'm getting better at this commentary thing

Starting off with yet another example of Luke and Sam being on the exact same wavelength. Luke hears the title, gets onstage, within a second starts cackling like a witch, and Sam joins in with zero hesitation. I love their dynamic so much, they bounce off each other so well

Luke's insistence on having 3 witches like it's Hocus Pocus or something-

AJ's voice dying while he tries to do a witch voice lmao

Synchronized improv must be insane to attempt, the fact their little chant made any sense at all is astonishing tbh

And yes, the witches' spell building up the scene just for it to create soup to win a food festival is pretty funny

Have any of the fanartists drawn the witches with their big ball of floating soup? Because I just really wanna see that visualized

"We do not speak of the Great Wizard, Ascaroth!" Only a matter of time before someone fucks up that name

"We don't do it anymore, we just call him.. That PrickTM"

I wasn't 100% sure but yeah, The Big Book of Soups does in fact exist. And now I want it, purely as an inside joke

Before a quick google search, I did not know who Jamie Oliver was, so the whole first run through this play I had no idea what the naked chef jokes were referencing, I just appreciated them without context. Just like I did for the entirety of The Prime Minister's First Day (because American)

Sam taking any opportunity to moan #1 (probably not actually the first time, but I'm gonna start a tally istg)

I like when someone tries to set up a plot point and we as the audience get to watch it either slowly fade away or burn up on impact. "Maybe we should sabotage That PrickTM" by Sam is an example of the latter

The bottled soup bit where Sam's confused (because apparently it's a Spain thing) and Luke also being confused (because I'm certain he completely blanked on the fact bottled soup is not normal to see in the UK)

Another thing they do a lot is when two characters are bickering and quickly descend into unintelligible noises and a third person typically has to calm them down

AJ deciding to randomly sing That PrickTM's name (yes I'll be doing that the entire post), and Sam just has to explain it away by saying it's his ringtone

Hugh Fernly Whittingstone/Stall might be the fastest name fuck-up they've ever had. But I think the subtitles are the only ones that noticed, so it barely counts

Might need to start a tally for AJ entering the scene as a random animal as well

This time, only to get brutally murdered and eaten. The most fucked up thing I've laughed at in a while, that was an insane move on Sam's part

No, I will not be trusting that process Sam

No wonder the witches call him That PrickTM

"It's me, Jamie Oliver" AJ acting like this is new, previously secret information

"I know it's dark magic, Jamie. How else would someone like you become a famous chef?" Okay I didn't learn that much about him, do people not like Jamie Oliver?

Live reaction while making this post: "Hey Jemima, good to see you again :) Last time we would've seen you was.. wait IS THIS THE FIRST APPEARANCE OF JEMIMA?!"

Jemima origins

"What happened last time with the witches was a one-off thing" As this series goes, we'll soon learn how much AJ loves using the phrase 'one-off thing', I can think of 2 examples off the top of my head but y'all are just gonna have to wait and see

Yeah Jemima, she's always had the snort, don't be a dick about it

"What if the witches enter again?" Very curious what happened with the witches the last time, because they seem relatively harmless this year

Sam entering with his perfect comedic timing as a 'young boy'

"From the valleys" deserves to be in one of those sfth vocal stim compilations

AJ's internal monologue "Okay I need to differentiate this character somehow but we don't have props today. This character is obviously evil, he provides dogs to be cooked for God's sake.. Oh I know!" *wraps himself in curtain* "A CLOAK!"

"Why are you dressed like Emperor Palpatine?" Hold on, I need to google something... Yeah, that's funny.

Unexpected Calm app shoutout

AJ searching desperately through his mind catalogue for the word 'update'

They're doing a bunch of what I'd assume is difficult shit, now Sam's out here improvising soup recipes (that double as classic witch spells that make you speak in tongues)

I'm with Luke, what is so funny about 75 years of soup tasting?

Why do I love the way Sam says 'the valleys' so much, it's so funny to me and I will repeat it every goddamn time

"Memories flooding back of childhood" "It's like Ratatouille" I guess I gotta rewatch Ratatouille

Love their universal sing of flashback being repeating the last phrase over and over while they spin around awkwardly

"I have to go find my mother" He abandons the scene and the play ends, roll credits

When one of them yells with such a random aggression "The competition, don't ruin THE COMPETITION!"

"Then I will find mama" "Yes, you'll deal with that later.." AJ's character are very good at not caring at all recently

"I was hold back" Please AJ, grammatically continue

"This soup is called leek leek leek" Leek³ you might say

Luke laughing in the middle of his character's second memory-related breakdown as he realizes how dumb this is

"Which of you is my real mama??" I think Past Hugh just drugged himself

Forgot to mention Witch #1 as Luke's first gremlin mode character in my sfth recurring roles post

Luke: "I'm a 16 year old!" Still Luke: "Do all of you just announce your ages?" Luke just setting himself up like that

".... Leek" "We've got a theme going" Okay but the real question is, are all of them from The Valleys?

"You took my mother from me" Oh did Jamie Oliver kill Hugh's m- "We've been on many, many long evenings" Oh Jamie Oliver FUCKED Hugh's mom

Wizard Duel (featuring Sam with special effects) goes hard

"16 raw eggs!" I don't think that's a spell, I think you're just pelting him with raw eggs

Wait a second, is this whole duel just a food fight where they magically summon all of their ammo-

"What score do I get?" "... 9.8, that was fucking good" Bro went on one hell of a trip

"Ah yes of course, Akaram" Hey now, we all know the Great Wizard's name is That PrickTM

"Get it right, you racist" Aside from the fact I have no idea who this would be racist towards, it's giving the same vibes as the one Book Game where Tom calls the Chinese book Japanese and Sam ofc takes the fuck-up as a chance to call him a bigot

*Me, watching this play for like a 4th time* "... Wait.. Something's off here.... WHERE THE FUCK IS TOM?"

I know where Luke is most of the time when he's gone, but where's Tom at? Same question for Sam during Burglary and Bobsleds

"Stiff like the naked chef's erection inside your mother?" ".. How public was the dream I just had?" That moment you relive your traumatic backstory via magic/drug/leek soup and it turns out they were broadcasted to the rest of the crowd as well, so now the whole city knows Jamie Oliver fucked your mom

I literally just rewatched this a few days ago and I've already forgotten what That PrickTM's soup did

Jamie Oliver: *gets possessed* That PrickTM: "Ainsley Harriott has joined us as well" Well off I go to google another English chef

Turns out the captions spelled his name wrong

Luke having to play his own character's mother is very in character of him actually

"By the power of the Great British Bake Off" fucking GOT ME-

"Mother, you're alive!" "Just about" wtf does that mean??

Final Thoughts: Oh the power you hold when you're the first one onstage.. Who knew Luke's witch cackle could bring us a story of leek soup, missing mothers, and an evil English chef

[kyouka-supremacy]

hey i saw ur chuuaku post and im wondering if maybe u could make a few hcs for them..😖

Right now I can hardly come up with anything I haven't said already (peoples it's time for YOU to send ME chuuaku ideas please I'm starving), but I'm redirecting you to my old chuuaku headcanons post, headcanons on how their relationship would play out according to me, and general chuuaku rant. Some other stuff:

It started out as very casual (“I'm just fooling around with the guy at work who shares my same dependency to a third guy”), but when it started being more than that, it's Chuuya who pushes for it to become a serious thing. He's the emotionally intelligent one and the first to understand they've actually developed strong feelings for each other way before Akutagawa realizes. On the other end Akutagawa is very reticent at first, and is scared to get emotionally attached and especially bound to someone else after the mess that was his relationship with Dazai.

But once it got serious, they're trying. They're trying to be in a normal relationship and do classic date things. They both care a lot and they really don't want to fuck this up.

I really want to explore the kind of miscommunication that doesn't happen with ss/kk and s/kk. Akutagawa and Chuuya don't get each other, but it's not a bad thing: the way they keep trying to work around the struggle of understanding each other despite it being so difficult only shows how much they care about their relationship.

Dazai keeps being the reason of 95% of their arguments tho. Especially due to Chuuya insulting him, and Akutagawa disagreeing with him. That time someone said “chuuaku is a throuple in which the ghost of dazai osamu exists between them at all times”; I fully stand by that.

The remaining 5% of arguments is Chuuya getting mad at how little Akutagawa takes care of himself– and Akutagawa being very pissed, by the way, because he decides what he does with himself. Again, Akutagawa becoming very wary of anyone commanding him after Dazai left, a little because in truth he's always been very independent, very anarchist, but more so now because he really doesn't want to get stuck in another relationship where he depends on someone else. It's a subconscious, instinctive response though, because you know Akutagawa has zero self-awareness and doesn't speak of someone who does a lot of introspection. Taking that in, Dazai makes for the reason of 100% of their arguments (don't tell him, he'd have the time of his life knowing that).

I really care about Akutagawa slowly moving to Chuuya's place, it's very dear to me... Chuuya's empty space being slowly filled by another person... Building mundanity together, the feeling of finally creating a domestic life with someone else after your life has never been anything but uncertainty and anomaly... Chuuya opening his kitchen cabinet one morning and finding Akutagawa's sophisticated tea in it (without Akutagawa having told Chuuya) and cracking the biggest smile of his life, feeling the happiest man on earth, running to squeeze and kiss a very grumpy and confused Akutagawa who was yet to wake up.

Also very funny because despite both being mafiosi, they have very different work ethics that make their schedules clash. I feel like Akutagawa's is more of an on-call job where he occasionally gets assigned missions, whereas Chuuya, as executive, ends up doing a lot of office job which is completely alien to Akutagawa. Cue to Akutagawa being childishly confused like “We are the darkness of this city, what do you mean you have to wake up at 7.”

Workplace aesthetic. Akutagawa lounging at the pm hq for no reason in particular. Akutagawa spending a lot of time at Chuuya's office just waiting for him to finish his paperwork, often sleeping curled up on his sofa (company dog... ). Arriving together at briefings. Hands brushing under the meeting table.

I'm so sure Chuuya finds Akutagawa absolutely hilarious and genuinely loves spending time with him. That's how they started seeing each other to begin with. Chuuya is complaining about his underlings not meeting deadlines, and Akutagawa dead-serious advises him to “Cut off one of their ears, then threaten to cut the other one if they don't do what they're due before dawn. If they don't yield, proceed with the other limbs”. There's a bit, then Chuuya crushes laughing like that was the most hilarious joke he's heard his whole life. “I should really do that, shouldn't I?”. Akutagawa intimately thinks Chuuya is too good to be a mafioso, but shrugs it off as them two simply solving different roles within the pm.

On his side, Akutagawa is totally high on the feeling of someone looking like they genuinely enjoy his presence, and aren't scared of him (it's a first).

Chuuya taught Akutagawa how to drive. Akutagawa drives like a madman but if you asked Chuuya he genuinely believes he's good at it, because he loves the rush and he loves the thrill.

[remidyal]

Intrepid Heroes PCs ranked least favorite to favorite

Some quick rules for this very arbitrarily created ranking: Only characters from IH seasons, not sidequests, and it's purely based on my vibes and feelings towards the characters. It also doesn't take into account Quangle-related material. There's spoilers here, particularly for Unsleeping City and Crown of Candy, so reader beware

34. Gunthrie Miggles-Rashbax (ASO) It can be very funny in a disaster sort of way and certainly Gunnie's not a bad performance from Lou or anything, but man he puts my teeth and my soul on edge when he's at work. Someone's got to be at the bottom of this list, and this was one of two characters I considered!

33. Cumulous Rocks (ACoC) The other consideration for the bottom, because while Gunnie makes me actively uncomfortable at all times Cumulous gives me nothing. As close as any D20 PC comes to being a non-presence. He's in almost twice as many episodes as Lapin and there's only one character of Zac's anyone ever talks about from Crown of Candy.

32. Theobald Gumbar (ACoC) For both Murph and Zac, I have a strong preference for what we might call their scummier characters, and Theo is basically Murph at his most paladin-y even though Theo is a fighter. I still like him alright - only the first two entries on this list are even remotely negative, if I was doing letter grades we'd already be into like B- territory - but this side of Murph is him at his least entertaining for me.

31. Mother Timothy Goose (NA) Already getting difficult! Timothy is a kind guy and I hope he has a lot of non-stolen apples in his future but he's definitely the weakest of the Never After cast for me. I admire the hell out of Ally for trying a pretty wide variety of characters; this one just didn't quite land for me.

30. Liam Wilhemina (ACoC) A VERY different Ally character, there's just a lot of whiplash with Liam from scene to scene that's part of the full Beardsley experience. Obviously this list would look very different if I were building out based on combat effectiveness. Honestly probably dropped five spots from that last Wish and resurrection of the villains alone.

29. Ricky Matsui (TUC) I'm going to get yelled at for this one being this low, and Ricky's got some incredibly funny moments obviously, but it's very much a Zac as comedy assassin sort of performance and I don't find him THAT interesting on a scene to scene basis. The TUC2 version of him's the better of the two, though. Even more than Murph, I prefer Zac playing assholes.

28. Sundry Sidney (ASO) So here's the thing: I'm southern USian and Emily's accent here drives me up the wall. Similar sort of situation with Moonshine being my least favorite of her NADDPOD PCs by a mile. Everything about the concept and character aside from that is great; the character voice docks it for me.

27. Kugrash (TUC) There's a lot to love in this performance, obviously, and I think it's actually an extremely interesting thing to come in on someone who has been working as a better person (rat) for a long time. I just don't necessarily need that many juicy cockroaches in my life. I think maybe suffers a little bit by only getting one season, because the players have definitely gotten better over time to me.

26. Lapin Cadbury (ACoC) I know, I know, but there's only six episodes with this dude in them as a primary PC and I'm not giving that many points for potential. Could have should have would have been a lot higher, but he makes it this far off what we did get.

25. Misty Moore/Rowan Berry/Holly Branch/Probably a bunch of other names (TUC) Similar to Kugrash she might have improved if she'd stuck though she does reappear in TUC2 more. Honestly if I was counting Quangle material she might jump higher because her appearances in those have been great, but she's relatively one-note even if it is a very funny note. Technically the first PC to really attempt romancing another PC unless we count Kristen kissing everyone freshman year.

24. Jet Rocks (ACoC) Another character cut short, though nine episodes is a significant amount more than six. A lot of people have extremely strong preferences between Emily's ACoC characters. EXTREMELY strong. I do not, which is why...

23. Saccharina Frostwhip (ACoC) ...they're ranked back to back. I think they're both pretty fun characters, but with some significantly flawed choices probably made worse by the filming circumstances of ACoC. I also think this was always the backup character (other than hilariously maybe Lou's) that was most likely to come into play, because Jet fought as though she was invincible from episode one. I will take this spot to note that I don't think Saccharina herself upped the power level of the party upon coming in as much as simply them getting to higher levels did, though she didn't hurt.

22. Ruby Rocks (ACoC) Honestly this is almost two characters too - there's the Ruby from the first half of the season and the Ruby from the second half. I think it's a bold choice to have gone into anger and fury so much in mourning, and also that neither she nor Saccharina are totally in the wrong in their fights throughout, but I do get where it wore on some people and it did for me a bit too.

21. Big Barry Syx (ASO) DEFINITELY my favorite of Murph's non-weirdo type, he honestly plays incredibly well off of everyone else in the season; I think there's individual interactions that are just stellar with every member of the cast here. There's another step up here into B+ territory; the list from here is so hard.

20. Fabian Arimaris Seacaster (FH) Yes that is the canonical spelling of his middle name for some reason, and yes this is my lowest Bad Kid. There's a lot I love about him, obviously, but I find his Junior Year arc in particular not all that interesting and Kristen and Gorgug jumped him there. I'm still looking forward to more of him, presuming Chungledown Bimothy doesn't murder him in a liveshow.

19. Pinocchio (NA) Speaking of character voices, it's been years now and I still can't believe Lou stuck to this voice the whole season even knowing he doesn't let things go. Honestly a very similar situation to Fabian, lots of things I like here and in this case maybe let down by just how disjointed all of Never After can be. This part isn't Lou's fault but I've never once spelled Pinocchio right the first time - I always want there to be two Ns.

18. Pete Conlan (TUC) Another tale of two seasons character, TUC2 Pete is much better than TUC Pete for me, and enough so that he rises up to here. (Season 1 Pete would be floating around 30). Love the arc and character development, love the connection to Dream, love the tweaks to Wild Magic that Brennan and Ally made to make it matter more because that subclasses is dull as hell as written.

17. Gerard of Greenleigh (NA) He's just so perfectly an asshole in the right amounts to be a hilarious performance, and yet isn't always in the wrong or at fault. The sword form names making fun of Wheel of Time are VERY fun for me as someone with a love/hate relationship with those books. Of all the cast, I'm pretty sure Murph has the closest match to me in media consumed.

16. Rosamund du Prix (NA) I still like the ace interpretation over the lesbian one but both are a lot of fun. Probably has the most complete story of any of the NA characters, which isn't saying much. Love the concept, love the curse, love the third mini.

15. Sofia Lee (TUC) I wouldn't visit Staten Island to meet Sofia Lee, but I would at least think about it and make a promise to maybe try the ferry sometime if I was in New York and had nothing better to do.

14. Gorgug Thistlespring (FH) A BIG riser for me in JY, because I genuinely didn't enjoy him all that much in FY or SY and he would have been around Ricky territory. Love the entire Barbarian/Artificer thing. The Mary Anne epilogue is probably the funniest single thing in all of Junior Year to me.

13. Puss in Boots (NA) Definitely has the MOST fragmented mess of a character arc of anybody in Never After and still is this high because Zac was born to play the role of a con artist cat.

12. Ylfa Snorgelsson (NA) It may have taken me two episodes to realize Emily was doing that voice intentionally and they didn't film while she had a cold. If the Bad Kids are teens from a John Hughes movie, Ylfa is the actual preteen who's throwing up in the backseat of your car on a road trip, aside from the wolf parts.

11. Kristen Chili's Applebees (FH) Not only is the middle name canon, so is the apostrophe. I love her junior year arc, and the moment in the woods where she releases Lucy and Yolanda's souls is absolutely incredible. Is she a lot sometimes? Oh, for sure, but she's still a lot of fun to have on my screen.

10. Being Deep Underwater and Finding a Current That Leads You Swiftly and Perfectly to Where You Need to Go (Riva for short) (ASO) Remember, at the end of the season they're the most cynical person their race has ever had and also have killed a whole lot of people! Just an absolute delight at every moment, even in a pretty purely supporting role.

9. Iga Lisowski (TUC) Yes, both TUC2 specific characters are in my top ten, for very different reasons. I love Iga, I love her family, I love her dragon, I just love everything about her, even if her art makes her look decrepit instead of like, 45.

8. Amethar Rocks (ACoC) I need to find the clip, which is either from ACoC or TUC2 adventuring party, of Lou talking about this but to paraphrase he mentions that Amethar has exaggerated versions of what he considers his own flaws, and he certainly does have plenty of flaws, but I think he's the pillar that keeps ACoC rolling and I think the season would have been a lot worse if Brennan had succeeded in murdering the shit out of him early as he wanted to.

7. Riz Gukgak (FH) Riz is a combo platter of Murph's offerings, being both a dogged story-character and a weird-ass little guy. Shout out to our canonical ace shrimp king, may his reign last a solid ten or fifteen minutes until he has to get to his next club meeting.

6. Normal "Skip" Takamori (ASO) I'm not splitting up the man and the slug but both would be high on this list independently. DEFINITELY the biggest jerk Zac's played, even over the con artist cat, and just so very much fun. He's my top Zac character, but he's not my top ASO character, because...

5. Margaret Encino (ASO) EASILY my favorite Ally character. Spends so much time in online banking during battle and is right to do so. An anachronism to the setting in the best ways, instead of being purely disruptive as it sometimes can be.

4. Fig Faeth (FH) If we've truly seen the last of Fig for a potential Senior Year, I'm okay with that, but everything we've gotten is so good. Pure heart and funny and unpredictable and just so much torture of NPCs who probably didn't deserve it but it's fine, they're not real people.

3. Cody Walsh (TUC) Definitely the D20 character whose player hates him the most, for me Cody's easily the funniest character D20's ever had, start to finish. I actually strained a muscle laughing at the bad turn. You know the one, if you've seen it.

2. Adaine Abernant (FH) Ow, right in the feelings. Solidly number 2 in spite of her Junior Year arc being also a little on the flat side, because she deserved a year with some breaks after the first two. Hopefully she and Aelwyn are having ice cream for a good long time.

1. Kingston Brown (from downtown, TUC) In the same clip mentioned above for Amethar, Lou described Kingston as being an exaggerated version of the things that he liked about himself, and I fully agree there. Kingston's an aspirational character in a lot of ways, someone I would love to be more like, and not in the whole having magic thing. And on top of that he's very funny! So Lou manages to take both extremes here, first and last, and I think that's appropriate.

[more-sonorous]

Uh I love going through your channel and reading all of the stories you come up with and I’m amazed and love them. It brings me joy to read them. I don’t know if you take requests I was wondering if you could do one where race has some problems and Jack is the only one who can get him to talk. Thank you!!!

i loved this ask! played around with it a bit and created a piece full of brotherly love that i'm truly hoping is what you were looking for!

have this little slice of life :)

.....

little ray of sun-- racetrack and jack

By all accounts, Jack Kelly had a decent day. He’d spent the morning pissing Pulitzer off by drawing egregious comics all of the other artists found funny, flinging droplets of ink onto the man’s shoes every time he strolled up to his desk, and using the most horrible grammar he could muster. By five, Pulitzer’s jaw was twitching but he had three spectacular political comics staring him down, so he couldn’t complain. Instead he glared up at Jack and a snarl formed beneath his perfectly groomed mustache as he dismissed him for the day.

Pushing old Joe’s buttons was Jack’s favorite work pastime when he worked at The World on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. It always put him in a chipper mood to know that he was one of the most popular artists on Pulitzer’s team, so the old bastard couldn’t really fire him even if he wanted to since people were raving about his comics. He couldn't fire him over little things anyways, like Jack putting his feet up on his desk or wearing a bandana ‘round his neck instead of a tie. He’d gotten good at subtly irking the man without breaking any office rules, and it added a bit of life to his boring office work. When he earned that little jaw twitch? Well, Jack considered the day a win. 

He carefully shelled out a few cents on a pretzel for dinner and finished it on his way back to the Lodgings, brushing the coarse salt off on his trousers and whistling to himself as he walked. At his core, Jack Kelly was a little shit. He enjoyed his little shit moments when he could.

As he dreamed up ways to dramatically retell his office antics for the littlest newsies, he rounded the corner to find Albert’s head of gleamingly red hair perched on the steps leading up to the familiar lodging house. The moment the sarcastic ginger laid eyes on him found him shooting to his feet and practically speedwalking to Jack. 

“Kelly!”

“Yo, Albert.” Jack greeted cheerfully, removing his own hat and pushing a hand through his hair as he took a glance at the distressed expression on the freckled face in front of him. His cheer seemed to slip into nothingness. “Everythin’ okay?”

Half of Albert’s thin mouth curled into a snarl. “No. Obviously it ain’t. It’s fuckin’ Racer, Jack, he’s– he’s doing that thing he does and I dunno what the fuck to do.”

“Ah, shit.” Jack sighed, glancing up at the doors as a spike of worry for his almost-little-brother shot through his chest. Tension coiled through his limbs. “Okay, I’ll handle it–”

“You better, man, because I couldn’t. I even got Crutch and Davey to try. He wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t say a goddamn word to us. Davey’s out collecting bits from the guys to pay for Race’s bunk tonight, and I’m sure he’s gonna get enough, but this can’t happen tomorrow. Racer’s already short on cash–” Despite Albert’s harsh, biting tone, Jack knew the kid well enough to see deeply rooted concern in the furrow of his brow and the tight shrug of his shoulders. He was tense right up to his ears.

“I got it, Albert. Anyone tried getting him to eat yet?” He started a quick jog up the stairs and into the building. Though Jack knew what to do, that didn’t make him any less jittery when things like this happened.

He found himself despising his ‘real job’ because it meant he couldn’t spend mornings here with the boys. If he’d’ve known about Race’s situation sooner, maybe his brother wouldn’t’ve missed out on a day of selling. Jack barely checked in with Kloppman as he thundered up the stairs, Albert trailing behind and talking a mile a minute through a lopsided, thickly accented mouth. His speech might’ve sounded like another language to someone that didn’t know him well.

“Yeah, Crutch’s up there workin’ on dinner. I just dunno what coulda caused this one, Jack, he seemed fine yesterday and he was playin’ poker last night before bed– he seemed fuckin’ normal and now he ain’t even speakin’ to anyone–”

“Well, sometimes there ain’t a reason.” Jack toed open the door to the bunkroom and Albert stumbled to a halt behind him, both of them gazing at the sight of Crutchie murmuring softly to a despondent lump of Racetrack. Other newsies lingered silently around, awkwardly pretending like they weren’t nosy-ly watching the scene in the corner unfold. Jack’s chest squeezed tightly and a soft exhale escaped him, worry and exasperation all in one. “Sometimes he just gets like this. But I’ll figure it out, Al, don’t go all batshit on me.”

The redhead practically growled, proving every stereotype of fiery gingers more than true at that moment. Race would be delighted to know that he had an angry guard dog as a best friend. “I ain’t even close to batshit, Kelly.”

“Well, if that's the case, why don’t’cha help Dave collect donations? Scare the kids into puttin’ a penny in your hat or somethin'.” He swiped Albert’s backwards cap right off his head and held it out with a well-practiced cheeky grin, earning him another sneer. 

Albert snatched his cap back and stormed out of the room, each movement tight and tense with worry. Jack crossed the room in a few strong strides, gently tapping Crutchie on the shoulder. He held a glass of water and a sandwich wrapped in wax paper, both entirely untouched. When Crutch met his eyes, a silent understanding passed between them and like the well oiled machine of brotherhood they were, the boys switched places. Crutchie ruffled Jack’s hair and tucked his crutch beneath his arm, immediately limping off to go clear the stragglers out of the room.

Jack pushed a hand through Race’s head of fair hair and glanced over his expression– tight with sadness, blue eyes staring straight ahead. “Mornin’, buddy.”

Racer closed his eyes at the sound of Jack’s voice, which he took to be a good sign as he ran his fingers through his brother’s tangled hair. Jack's skin seemed darker than usual against the light coils of Race’s dirty hair, matted and tangled. “Rough day today?”

As expected, Jack didn’t receive a response. He carefully set the sandwich and water aside and tugged his fingers through Race’s hair. It wasn’t very intimate or sweet as it might’ve been with someone like Dave or Kath, because Race was a proper mess and his hair was beyond tangled. Jack worked the kinks out and watched his nose wrinkle and twitch, upper lip curling every so often as a reminder that he was cognitive and alive and feeling something, still. 

“Everybody’s worried about you.” Jack started, trying not to betray just how deep that worry was. This wasn’t the first time– far from it– but that didn’t make it any less scary. “I am too, a’course. Wish I woulda been there for you this morning, buddy, but Bastard Old Joe would fire me if I was any more than a minute late to his shitty office. Still, ‘m here now. Want’cha to talk to me, if that’s appealing at all. You gotta talk to someone, after all, or Albert’s gonna get so mad his head’ll turn as red as his hair. Then he’ll explode or some shit, I dunno.”

Jack knew this side of Race like the back of his hand. He remembered countless days in their shared past when Race would wake up just the same as he was now, glued to the sheets and subdued and silent, remaining still and motionless for as long as possible. The impossibly impish trickster he normally was would disappear beneath lumps of thin quilt and stony silence would take over in its wake, turning Racer into someone unresponsive and lethargic. Jack had a hunch that it was because of the constant motion Racetrack was in. Always with a smirk or a stinging quip, running betting circles and poker games and puffing cigars. Full of biting sarcasm, mind racing a mile a minute, bright as a star with nowhere to shine. An engine constantly chugging along, overheating until the point of exhaustion. Breakdown. That was whatever this was– the point where he chugged to a sudden halt and collapsed, withdrawn and almost unreachable. 

It happened once or twice a year, almost always in the bleak, dark, wintry months. Sometimes Race would spring out of bed the next morning, chipper like nothing ever happened. One time, when they were around ten and twelve, he was stuck in bed for a week. Jack wasn’t about to let that happen again.

“You don’t want Alfred to explode, do you? We’ll hafta find another token ginger…”

“No.” Race croaked, finally responding to the subtle joking that always drew him out of his shell. 

That’s what Jack had figured out– gentle touches, lighthearted mood, quips and teases. It took that. He didn’t respond well to Crutchie’s optimistic mothering or Albert’s intense pushing. Jack could picture Davey in all of his awkward loveliness trying to sternly coach Race out of the bed with false logical positives, like he was waking Les up and trying to get him dressed for the day. No, Jack knew Race, and he knew that Race responded to the feeling that he hadn’t done anything wrong. That things were normal.

“That’s what I thought.” Jack responded, with the same calm cheer coloring his tone. “Now c’mon, you can’t let me have better hair than you for a whole day. You wanna get up? Have a bite of dinner? Looks like someone got you somethin' from Jacobi’s…”

After a moment of silence, Racetrack weakly shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. “Can’t.”

“Can’t get up, that’s okay. I ain’t gonna make you.” He parroted, gently pulling his fingers through Race’s separated curls. “I would like it if you’d talk to me, though. So’s I can get a good night’s sleep, knowin’ what’s on your mind. I know you like torturin’ me but I sorta need my rest…”

The blonde let out a quiet snort, the motion jerking the blankets he held clutched to his chest. Jack couldn’t help his own smile at the transformation in the younger boy’s expression. He seemed to soften around the edges, with a little exhale that spelled progress. “Can’t deprive the great President of his beauty sleep… How’s he gonna sell papes without his pretty boy face?”

“That’s the problem– I need my pretty boy face. It’s the only thing I got goin’ for me.” Jack joked back with practiced ease, like everything was fine and Race wasn’t having one of his bad days. It was good, and it worked, because Racer snorted again.

In one shift of obviously difficult motion, Racetrack rolled onto his back and stared up at the wood holding up the bunk above them. Jack placed a careful hand on his shoulder and went still, waiting patiently. He could see Race’s mind moving behind intelligent blue eyes, the dart of his irises and the wrinkle of his nose as he thought. Sorting through his thoughts. Analyzing. A mathematician's brain, not at all like Jack’s artist brain or Davey’s literature brain or Kath’s journalist brain. Solving a problem. Race was a skeleton of problems and solutions wrapped in skin with a trickster’s smile. He was missing one of his pieces in that bed, because half of his face was occupied by an uncharacteristic frown. 

Finally, he spoke. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about what the fuck I’m gonna do after this.”

“After what?” Jack tried to put the pieces together, but he’d never been good at solving Race’s cryptic riddles. “When you get outta bed?”

“No. After all’a this.” He muttered, throwing one hand up as if gesturing to the entire bunkroom. “I got nothin’ planned. Once I’m eighteen and Klop gives me the boot, I’m done.”

Oh. Jack knew this rabbit hole of thought all too well. The cause of Race’s spiral was one that had caused him many spirals of his own, and it probably did the same for almost every newsboy that came before them. “You ain’t done. You basically got two years to figure shit out, man. Plus, you’se smart as a whip. Anybody would kill to have you workin’ for them if they knew how your brain worked.”

“Yeah, but they don’t, and since my Ma had to go and fuckin’ die on me, I ain’t got no schoolin’ to show for it. No proof.” He muttered, dragging his hands over his face. “I hit eighteen and boom, I’m on the streets. My Pa’s gonna want me to join his fuckin’ gang and I can’t do that, Jack, I swear to God–”

“You don’t hafta join any gang, Race, we’ll find you some other job. Stuff comes up when you least expect it. You gotta look at the good and the bad.” Jack reassured, carefully squeezing Race’s shoulder.

He sighed, hard and long. “Well sometimes it don’t feel like there’s any good.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” Jack responded, even though he knew the feeling far too well. Before Pulitzer miraculously offered that job, he’d been thinking the same thoughts. Now he was staring down the barrel of a secure future where he worked full time as an artist for the paper. It had all been pure luck. Chance. How was he supposed to explain that sorta thing? “I hear you, but you might not be lookin’ in the right places. Listen– we’ll get Davey on the job hunt with us. I’m sure he knows a couple places that are hiring. You can get in early, start up part time like me, work your way up. By the time you’se eighteen, you’se set.”

“Okay.” Race breathed, eyes fluttering shut. “Okay, that… that sounds okay.”

“Yeah?”

A tiny nod, a jostling of blonde curls. Jack let out a sigh of relief as Race finally pushed himself to sit up, rubbing his hands over his face. Every movement seemed like he was pushing through a sea of syrupy fatigue, fighting his own body to get things working again. Jack rubbed his back through it all– though he’d never experienced this sort of thing, Race had been through it more times than he could count, and it looked the same every time. Painful, difficult, but a surefire show of Racetrack’s incredible determination.

After a moment, he twisted awkwardly and lurched into Jack’s arms, wrapping him in a messy embrace. “Thanks, Jackie.”

“Don’t call me that, bud.” Jack responded simply, swinging his arms around Race and embracing him happily as the little shit exhaled a harsh laugh into his shoulder. He smelled like sweat and stale bed linens but he was talking and awake and moving, and that was more than enough to make Jack grin. “You want dinner? Water? You’re prob’ly fuckin’ parched.”

“Huh. Guess I am.” He said almost absently, like he was just then remembering his own humanity. Race reached across Jack and downed the glass of water in one go, before Jack offered him the sandwich and he slowly tucked in.

Moments like this made Jack remember why he’d stayed in this position for so long, leading these boys. They made him dread the day he had to leave, too. He slung an arm around Race’s shoulders and leaned back against the headboard of the bunk as the door creaked open, revealing a green-eyed boy with his cap held carefully in his hands. Jack motioned Davey in, tugging Race closer up against his side. The younger boy curled up beneath his arm, seeming to melt into the embrace.

“Hi, Racer. Feeling better?” Davey asked politely, coming to a halt beside the bed and tucking freckled hands into his pockets.

Race nodded wordlessly, without making eye contact as he bit his sandwich. He’d probably only be talking to Jack for a few hours, but that was how things always went. Jack had a remarkable knack for weaseling into people’s cracks and gently breaking them open. Davey rocked back on his feet, wearing a pleasant little smile. “That’s good. Your bunk is all paid for tonight, so no need to worry about that.”

“Great. Thanks, Dave.” Jack briefly grabbed his hand and squeezed, and like clockwork, Davey squeezed back. He trailed up to hold onto the taller boy's wrist as an idea struck him. “Hey, Davey, you think you could help Racer here start up a job search? Like, a post-newsie career?”

“Well, sure. I can think of a couple things that suit you, Race.” He smiled the type of smile that appeared when he had an idea. Jack felt confident for Racer that Davey was going to take good care of this little issue. Things would be okay, even if it was slow going. Even if Race was burrowing further into his arm, looking stony and miserable. “I’ll get back to you on that as soon as possible. Is it alright if I go tell the guys you’re alive and well up here?”

“Go inform the masses.” Jack responded easily, shooting Davey a lazy grin.

Davey returned the bright smile, crinkling his wide eyes into crescent moons. “Yessir. Oh, and Jackie?”

“Yeah, Dave?”

“Les gave me a couple of taffies for Race.” He briefly dug into his pocket and carefully deposited the candies in Jack’s palm, just a simple brush of pale skin against tan. “You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to, but if you do, I promise they’re safe for consumption.”

Jack thanked him and he disappeared as quickly as he came. Only once Jack had set the taffies aside, did he notice Race’s shit-eating smirk. A little bit of bright mischief was returning to his eyes as he trained them on Jack, brows curling downwards into a ghost of his usual impish expression. That was both a good and bad sign. Jack felt his own eyebrows raising. “What? What are you making that face for?”

Race’s teeth flashed in a little grin as he did a remarkable impression of Dave: “Jackie…”

And that earned him a smack upside the head. Jack’s face prickled with heat as he adamantly shook his head, rolling his eyes to the soundtrack of Race snickering beneath his arm. “Shaddap, ya’ bastard.”

Then he started fucking cackling, and Jack didn’t even have the energy to be pissed off at being the butt of the joke, because Race was gonna be okay. Rough patches were tough, but he could see a bit of sunlight through the clouds. Jack held him a little bit tighter and thanked the higher powers for small breakthroughs. 

....

thank you for the ask, darling! <3

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Okay I just watch digital circus because of your post and it was a blast and I love the character and the idea of a scenario came to me

Caine, Pomni, Jax, Ragatha, with an actor reader who loves to play into the adventures and play NPCs to set up the immersion maybe even write up some ideas for Adventures to make things more fun

Anyways have a great day night whatever and thanks for the fun writings

Thank you! Hope I did your ask justice!

Caine, Pomni, Jax and Ragatha x Reader who makes NPCs and writes

Caine

★ He really appreciates your help! It's hard work making up games for everyone to play while taking into account everyone's preferences. No matter how much you protest, he will use each and every idea you come up with.

★ Caine sets up a little studio for you to work in. It's filled with paper, multiple typewriterband all sorts of art supplies. Maybe some clay for you to build some models of a character you want to create?

★ You're NPCs are always great and often end up being a hit with the others. By that I mean the gang tolerates them more than his NPCs. You manage to give them more personally than he could have ever given.

★ If you somehow get Zooble to join in the fun he will congratulate you for doing a good job. His hat is off to you, you did something he thought was impossible. Now only if you could get Zooble to stop trying to swear...

★ I know the NPCs don't have any ai but Gooseworx confirmed that Bubble is a much simpler AI created by Caine. Therefore, he can theoretically make one of your characters come to life.

Pomni

★ At first she thought that the characters you make were real people. Once you told her that they were nothing but glorified puppets she had to question the sentience of everyone she's met so far.

★ You gotta make this girl a therapist. Aside from that it doesn't take her long to start asking questions about why you like to make different characters and stories.

★ She's not as creative as you, doesn't really understand the appeal of creating something like you do. The most she can do is come up with a few names.

★ Despite knowing that they aren't real people, Pomni still apologizes to the NPCs. It's force of habit. Maybe you could add some dialogue for if/when someone apologizes for something?

★ If we're being completely honest, she doesn't really like any of the NPCs. It just feels wrong when she needs to talk to them for something. It's like speaking to one of those robotic pre-recorded messages over the phone.

Jax

★ He's extra mean to the NPCs you make, just because he can. He knows that they can't get offended or upset but he doesn't care. They will be getting pushed into the mud.

★ When you decide to scrap an old character he gladly helps. The moment you say you need to get rid of it he's reaching for the nearest baseball bat. No need to worry about cleaning up 👍

Jax when the NPC starts to annoy him

★ Jax thinks it's funny when you get upset over him being mean to a NPC because you've grown attached to some of them.

★After that he asks you what you plan to make next. Can you blame him for being curious? Jax wants to know what you're planning before anyone else. Don't worry, he can keep a secret.

★ As a "joke" he told you to try and make a NPC that Caine would need to heavily censor. Just to see what the ringmaster would do. Whatever you made that day was thrown into the cellar.

Ragatha

★ She likes to watch you make different characters for certain situations. Caine wants to set up a fishing adventure? Best believe you are making an NPC who's a fisherman to set up the immersion.

★ You might overwork yourself while trying to come up with a game for everyone to play. Ragatha sometimes needs to step in to tell you to take a break. There's no use overworking yourself, go take a break!

★ She really wants everyone to have fun with the adventures you put together. There's no doubt that she loves them. Also she's the first person to yell at Jax for being mean to the NPCs.

[friendship-test]

The making of Friendship Test:

I have always wanted to make a RPG Maker game. Throughout the years I have played several games with small pixel sprites as characters, as worlds, and I have always been fascinated that you can create a beautiful, funny and interesting story through them. I can not code and I do not have any 3d art skills, the chances of me ever making a videogame were very limited, but I have always wanted to make one. RPG Maker always seemed like the most available objective I could achieve, but I was never motivated enough to try anything cause I never had any good concept in mind for a videogame.

The year of 2024 started with a big robot obsession for me. Robot Dreams had recently came out and I did not stop thinking about it ever since, and soon after I started playing Toontown Corporate Clash, needless to say I adored those corporative robots too. I have always loved robot characters and thought it would be fun to create a story with them, I had several OC projects in mind but none of them included robot characters, so I thought I should change that.

I daydreamed about the concept of a story with robots, suddenly came with an idea: “what if an army of robots turned ‘good’ and only one of them was still ‘bad’?”

A very simple concept, one that would change and develop a lot, but an idea that I really liked. Of course, I like writing character dynamics, so it could not be a solo story, I gave the corrupted robot a companion in their journey. It was the story of a robot that was built to be kind turning ‘mean’ and a robot that was built to be a weapon turning ‘good’, traveling through a laboratory of abandoned robots that had all turned ‘good’, but how maybe that’s not as nice as it sounds.

I had that idea in mind, but I wasn’t planning on doing much with it. Perhaps a quick drawing, post it on tumblr and move on to other projects for now. But an image showed up in my brain that I could not shake off: I imagined this game as a rpg maker game. I imagined the sprite of the protagonist walking around this abandoned lab. And the strangest thing? It looked good. It looked promising. At least, it did in my brain.

The story was nothing but a mere simple concept, but it was good enough to give me enough motivation to look up tutorials on how to use GameMaker. Yeah, you read that right, GameMaker, not RPG Maker. I wanted to try out a more complicated engine, spent three days learning how to build one single room. I followed the steps, but somehow, I ran into a bunch of issues and it was not working properly. It did not feel great to waste three days for nothing, I was ready to give up and just go back to drawing simple drawings, go back to something I already knew how to do just fine.

But the image of the little robot still roamed around in my brain. So I decided to look up tutorials for RPG Maker.

Needless to say, I should have done that from the beginning.

I didn’t become an expert immediately, I still am not an expert whatsoever, but even if it took time and effort, RPG Maker was easy to use. No wonder so many use it to make videogames.

Again, the concept of this game was still very limited, I had a lot of ideas in my mind on how the story could go, drew a lot of concept art, wrote a few lines of dialogues, but nothing was set and stone yet. I decided to make one short area at the very least, and while I was creating it, I could think on the story some more.

I did just that, the first area is basically exactly what I had in mind since the beginning: a dark, empty abandoned lab. FriendProgram’s character design was very stuck on my brain too, they did not require a lot of concept art, their final design was very clear to me.

I made a couple of rooms, learned the basics on how to move from one room to another, how to change the character’s speed, how to make them interact with things, how sprites worked, all that stuff. But I needed to make FriendProgram interact with SOMEONE at some point. I needed a couple of funny NPCs for them to interact with. That’s how I came up with FUN and GAMES.

Now, I already had a few ideas for characters we would meet later on the story, but these two were not planned ahead, I just needed a funny duo to introduce us to the test ‘battle’ mechanic and to showcase the overall humor and dialogue style this game has.

However, I ended up liking them so much that they became part of the main cast of characters, even if their role is smaller than others.

When it comes to the tests, I was a bit concerned with that aspect. I knew that was the main gameplay of this game, the friendship tests you are put through, but I was not certain how I was going to pull that off. Would it be boring? Would it be repetitive? Would I not be able to program it? As flawed as they are, I am pretty satisfied with the results.

You have only seen a pretty simple friendship test, they get a bit more creative later on.

When it comes to the ‘battles’, I wanted them to be short and simple, nothing that takes too much time and nothing too complicated either. It’s the reason why there are so many, cause they are all meant to be pretty short, and the game allows you to save whenever you want. I hoped that getting a game over would not be too punishing to the player, since I’m aware some battles can be a little difficult to figure out what you are exactly supposed to say. Game overs are a bit essential to the point the game is trying to make.

Still, I am aware the battles can hurt the pacing a little in the first act, which is why they are better distributed in later acts, instead of getting 5 consecutive battles at once.

The mechanics of the battles change a little in each act, with act 2’s probably being the most complicated. But battles are not the main point of the game, which is why you might see less of them as the story progresses. Still, I’m okay to have a flawed ‘battle’ system, at least I have one at all, which I was worried I might not have been able to have.

The other gameplay ‘mechanic’ are of course, the friend_test_mode. They are however meant to be more story-focused than anything else, the first one is very simple, the other one can be a bit more annoying to get to the correct answers, but both of them do not punish you with game overs and are not meant to be anything too complicated. It’s presentation, part of the story, less a gameplay mechanic.

But enough about gameplay! This is a videogame that is more about characters and stories.

Before arriving to the new location this act takes place in, you find yourself with two experiments and learn all about the battle system. One of the two experiments is Exe, a strange mysterious rabbit. Exe was originally not part of the story, I adore characters like Exe, the funny annoying comedic relief characters, I tend to include them a lot in my stories. But so far, I hadn’t included any characters like that, I thought that maybe they would annoy people and it wasn’t necessary to the story. This changed however, I realized that if I’m making a game that I would like to play myself I had to include a character I would love, even if there were people who wouldn’t like them. So I included Exe, who serves as a tutorial and overall guide to the player. She started out as a small funny character, but as I wrote the story she became so essential that now I can not imagine the game without her. Sometimes the annoying comic relief character can save your story.

But now we arrive to the Reprogram Town! Very early on I knew that the first real area of the game should be a place full of nature, a huge contrast to the rest of the lab. It’s not just the nature, but the people are also very different from what you will see in this lab. The reprograms have sealed themselves away from everyone else, which means they can live in peace, away from the rules of BestFriendProgram, the program in charge of the lab.

The concept I had for this first area was to evoke something familiar: a cute little town with fun and kind NPCs, a bunch of simple quests, a bunch of simple battles and a story that ends with a nice lesson and with the characters being happy and loving each other very much, all thanks to you, the protagonist. I think it’s something we have seen in plenty of games, you play this area and you have an idea on what to expect, it is something pretty simple and easy to swallow. You are a nice protagonist that helps others and becomes friends with everyone, this is a game where you will meet a lot of programs and become friends with all of them and make everything better through kindness! This is what you are meant to believe.

The protagonists of Reprogram Town are Hammer, Keys and Wrench. The story is all about them, you are helping them but you are not part of their story. You are just a kind silent protagonist that doesn’t steal the spotlight from the story we are witnessing.

I knew from the beginning I wanted a simple but emotional conflict between these new characters, something that you could solve in one episode, but still has meaning to it. Just because you are a little deceived into thinking this game is going to be one way and then it turns out to be a little different than expected, doesn’t mean that the emotional conflicts have no meaning. What these three go through is real and they still have a lot to go through, specially Keys, who will get more things to do later on.

Something I really like about Keys is that he is a character that has kind of already went through his big character arc, there isn’t really much you can help him with when he has already grown as a person on his own and with the people he is close with. It doesn’t mean his journey is over, but it makes his interactions a lot of fun.

His asexual side plot is the first aspec-related story we see in the game and it is very essential to the character, at first I mostly implied it but I wanted to make it very obvious, this is not the ‘implied aspec’ game, this is the ‘stated aspec stories’ game after all. Keys is asexual and is a huge part of his story, as we will see later on.

Kindness is a big theme in this game too, and I really like the story of Hammer choosing to be a kind person despite everything. I like Wrench a lot too, even if he doesn’t show up as much I wanted his personality to be so vibrant that you will forget he has very little screentime. I really like when stories focus on siblings so of course I wanted two of the main cast of characters to be siblings and this is the act where they get to shine.

This first act establishes a lot of world-building as well. There is still a lot of things to find out about, but little by little you learn how this world is supposed to work. The mandatory tests, the water damage, the reliance on metal, the unconscious days, the data corruption, the old organisms… So much information in what appears to be a very silly and cute chapter of a bigger story.

Speaking of a bigger story, seems like that’s where FriendProgram and Waterbottle will truly get to shine. Waterbottle shows up very little in this act, and FriendProgram barely acts like a character, but this changes completely after the ending the demo. The rest of the game is very different from these first few hours and it’s all because of this program duo, especially FriendProgram, but it is also not different enough that it’d feel like a completely different game. The demo gives you a very clear idea of how the tone, pacing and dialogue of this game is usually like, even if there will be improvements later on.

Waterbottle is, in my opinion, probably the best character in the game. They are very fun to write and I enjoy every moment they are on screen, I think this character genuinely makes my game way better, which is why the demo is one of the weakest parts of the story, simply because Waterbottle is barely in it. Not for any other reason, it’s just cause Waterbottle doesn’t have enough screentime.

Now when it comes to FriendProgram, I did not want Friendship Test to be a cynical story where I “criticize” games that “force” you to be kind just to get what you want, I thought that would be very dumb and against everything that I am. FT offers a funny scenario of a character that has no other option than to be a really good friend to be able to advance the story, but it doesn’t mean they are not a complex person with no kindness in their heart. It doesn’t mean that helping other programs is meaningless, it doesn’t mean that FriendProgram hates everyone and would kill everyone if they could. There is a lot of layers to this story and this character.

You might be wondering however: ‘Where are the aspec themes? You said this game was about lovelessness!’ To that I say, patience! Don’t worry, the rest of the game does NOT shut up for a second about the main message of the story, but it was very important to establish the world building and characters first before fully focusing in the main themes. Besides that, the demo is also meant to trick you into thinking this is another story about the power of love, there is a reason why it is not really discussed at the beginning. There is more to the story and to FriendProgram than you might think.

I am very proud of my game, despite the flaws, I’m happy that I finally had the motivation to make the rpg maker game I have always wanted to make. Perhaps this game will help me make a better game one day, who knows, for now I am very happy with the result so far.

The first update was more about the making of the demo, but the next ones will all be about previews and presentations for the rest of the game! Next month I will talk about the next area of the game: The Emulation Area!

Thank you for reading and supporting, see you!

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