#it used to be so easy to find good colors out in the wild

[ladytitanium]

I hate beige I hate taupe I hate greige 

give me an interesting color or die by my sword

[genshin-scenarios]

what flowers they’d give their s/o

Summary: A raffle request from my Adopt a Wanderer preorders! They’re a mix of genshin and HSR, but I’m posting it here as Wanderer’s included! If you'd like to see more HSR content from me, feel free to drop a request at @tiramisu-rambles! 

Characters: Wanderer, Luocha, Jingyuan, Aventurine, Sunday

Content warnings: implications of character death in Luocha’s part.

Adopt a Wanderer: Digital Store

Red String of Fate Prompt List

Wanderer: Anemones

Sincerity, forsaken love, anticipation, protection from evil.

Just like the many versions of himself, anemones are windflowers with various meanings depending on their color. And despite the hurt Wanderer’s been through, his barriers are worn down by your honest intentions; your brightness, moments of quiet connection, and how you’re adored by many.

He’s glad the wind has brought him to you. These flowers may have a delicate appearance, but it’s obvious that neither of you are so fickle.

“They’re a protection from evil, apparently. Something about closing its petals when it rains.” 

“Really? In that case, I have a version of that already with you!”

It’s a bouquet made with multicolored hues, where he hands himself to you. A small thanks for acknowledging his past, and a few blooms that represent anticipation for the future.

It’s been a while since he’s been vulnerable enough to feel nervous about something. But it’s a more positive spin on the emotion, akin to excitement when he knows he’s going to see you — but Wanderer would rather choke than use a word so innocently childish to describe himself.

Due to its wild nature, anemones also symbolize relaxation and a reminder to enjoy the moment. To take in opportunities at the right time, as he’s learned from you.

Luocha: Marigolds

Resurrection, energy, good luck, warmth, prosperity, jealousy.

Luocha sees you in the warmth of the flowers, as powerful as the Sun despite your bubbly outlook. He sees the light, which makes him worry he might taint your smile with his true nature.

You thank him for the flowers, thinking of him as the miracle doctor that’s giving you a gift. He is, but he also hopes you don’t get closer without being aware of what he is.

Marigolds represent despaired love, although this is mostly on Luocha’s part as he constantly sidelines himself, making himself a ‘side character’ rather than a potential partner for you. But he’s too selfish to completely step out of your life, accepting your invitations to lunch and walks along the harbor. He says the world feels peaceful around you. It’s true.

These flowers are often associated with life and death. In this case, it’s Luocha’s silent promise to always protect you, even if you might not want it yourself. 

And if there comes a day where he has to pick between saving one or another… He’ll make sure you get out alive. Perhaps he’ll even save the bystanders around so you’ll keep calling him a wonderful doctor, before his powers fail to heal his own wounds.

Jingyuan: Forget Me Nots

Clinging to the past, faithfulness, remembrance, true love, fidelity.

‘I’ll keep you in my thoughts,’ they say. A warm sentiment from the General, and behind them the memories of all he’s gained and lost in the past.

Jingyuan is used to being alone. He’s a leader after all, who wears the air of one without a care in the world. He’s capable and busy, but what he says as a teasing remark contains words that can be read very differently.

‘Don’t forget me.’

Forget me nots also symbolize links to the past. For a long-life species, it’s easy to feel the days melt together, and beautiful sights aren’t as vivid anymore.

That’s why Jingyuan thanks you for letting him remember — remember what it’s like to be surprised again, to see the sky and find it breathtaking, along with your voice in the wind. He wants to remember all of this as long as he can, so he gives you these flowers on occasion to remind himself.

“Do you miss me that much, General?” 

“Of course. There isn’t enough time in the world to spend with you.”

He starts to appreciate his lifespan again, for having the chance to run into you along the way.

Aventurine: Daffodils 

Honesty, truth, forgiveness, appreciation. 

Despite the amount of lying and masks he wears, Aventurine knows there is truth in the anxiety he feels around you. The same feeling before a risky gamble, where he hopes his bluffs will deceive his opponent.

…He doesn’t know what he’d do if you ever looked at him with disappointment. If he somehow managed to fool you into expecting something he cannot give; heart ringing hollow, echoing deeper and deeper in resonance every time you interact.

Perhaps one day this hollow ringing will actually turn into a heartbeat, and he can finally face you as Kakavasha. (Put aside the fact that despite his persona, Aventurine is still facing the world with honesty in every act).

He also chooses Daffodils because, in his attempt at excusing these sentiments, he simply thinks of you as his source of honesty and truth. A Sun that the flowers lean toward, after blooming each spring despite the desolate, cutthroat winter.

‘Please forgive me. Please don’t look away.’

Daffodils also symbolize rebirth, new beginnings, and good luck. Perhaps you can draw this out of Aventurine, who’s been on guard against the world for as long as he can remember?

Be the sunlight that sifts through the window, greeting him every day; a good-luck charm he continues to believe in.

Sunday: Violets 

Peace, devotion, healing. 

You bring him peace. With every smile you direct at Sunday, he feels hope that the world around him can be rebuilt. ‘You heal me,’ the flowers say. And despite how candied flowers dry bitterly on the tongue…

‘After all this is over, I’ll devote myself to you.’

He can’t be sure if you believe him, but Sunday has long disposed of the idea of predicting you. ‘It makes you human’, his sister once said.

Violets are reminders of loyalty, thoughtfulness, and dependability. Sunday looks out for you at every corner, even if his presence isn’t tangible. He notices your little victories and joys, feeling his heart twinge from the distance. And when your days are bleak, just know there is another soul mourning with you, playing a song to soothe your sorrows.

He’s devoted to you long before the drama of politics are done. In a sense, one can almost say he’s too caring — from a glance it appears he’s not bothered with you, and watch for a minute longer, the small, irrelevant commands given to his subordinates ring clear with thoughts of you.

Sunday doesn’t put a spotlight on his love, yet showers it with the adoration of the moon. Quiet, graceful, and just a bit selfish.

[causenessus]

cold kisses

part 0.3. USER 7193

PLAYING FROM KODZUKEN'S STREAM . . . feels by calvin harris

maybe he should have expected this. 

nearly all of his posts have been overrun with questions about y/n in the comments. the comments range from simple “who was the girl in your cooking stream??” demands to extremely specific ones detailing her exact hair color, height, and voice pitch as if he’s had another mysterious girl on a stream that he’ll confuse her for.

he’s been doing his best to avoid questions about her but it could only work for so long. now there’s only questions about y/n left in the chat and he’s not sure what to do. it was easy to ignore the questions when he wasn’t doing an entire question and answer live stream but he’d promised to do one soon and he thought having shoyo with him was going to help. 

it did for the most part, and everything seemed normal but he was at a loss for words when the chat started to flood with questions about y/n.

shoyo leaned closer to read a question outloud, “‘girl from the cooking stream?’ i keep seeing that, do they not know–”

a reflex kicks in and he slaps a hand over shoyo’s mouth, pushing him away from the screen again before removing his hand trying to act normal.

the ginger looks at him, a mix of surprise and confusion on his face. “sorry,” kenma apologizes quickly, shocked by his own actions. “no, they don’t know anything about her,” he answers, trying to make it clear that he wants to keep it that way.

but the chat is already too far gone, using this one mention to run wild with theories. he can’t blame them, really. sometimes they’re a little over the top and unnecessarily pushy as if they have no sense of respect but in this scenario what else could they talk about besides a mysterious person that just entered the picture? but that didn't mean he enjoyed dealing with it.

messages transition quickly from asking what they “don’t know about” to inferring that he has a secret girlfriend. he groans, looking away from the screen. his mind working fast to try and come up with an excuse or explanation; a single mention of her and they already think he’s dating someone. he’s sure that the internet would go crazy with this information as well, fabricating stories, scandals, and everything in between.

his phone starts to buzz.

speak of the devil.

it’s a notification from twitter, some unofficial update account that’s tagged him about having a secret girlfriend.

he needs to think.

he can see shoyo eyeing him out of the corner of his eyes and he knows he’s been silent for too long on camera.

god, someone was going to find out who she was soon, right? weren’t fans supposed to be good at doxxing each other?

but how does he play off being roommates with an olympic athlete? an olympic athlete whose currently being shipped to the max with the most typical copy and paste guy everyone has the hots for?

maybe it’d be better for him to leave it to a random fan to find out who she is and announce it to the world–no, then he’ll just look bad for hiding things after so much has already come to light. it’s best for him to come up with an excuse right now. if he said she was his girlfriend maybe he could ask them to leave her alone. maybe they’d listen to him.

it sounded like his best option but he couldn’t just make that decision on his own without talking to her.

but he also couldn’t stand up and the leave the room for an unprecedented amount of time after keeping quiet for so long.

he looks at the chat one more time, seeing the word girlfriend in nearly every message. if they already think they’re dating it can’t be that bad, right?

“kenma…?” shoyo breaks him out of a trance, touching him on the back.

kenma looks at him, unsure of what to say. he feels dizzy and his mind won’t stop whirring with thoughts and worries.

“you’ve been really quiet,” shoyo lowers his voice so that only kenma can hear him, “i think you need to say something.”

he glances at the chat again. still stuff about y/n.

she’d be okay with it, right? maybe if she isn’t he’ll just tell twitter that his girlfriend broke up with him because his fans are pushy little shits and he’ll agree with her word for word and then his fans will cancel him and he can move to another country and live a happy little life working in a cat shelter–

no. he likes his life the way it is now. he’s winged everything so far but he’s grown quite a small community for himself this way. he can do this. if y/n doesn’t agree, he’ll figure something out later.

“okay,” kenma finally speaks, dropping his hands that he’s been running through his hair absentmindedly. “since none of you guys are gonna leave this alone, yes. the girl from that last stream is my girlfriend, happy?” he watches his chat run wild with numerous exclamations. he thinks finally about his poor moderators. he’ll definitely have to give them something after this stream. “i’ve been trying to lay low about it because i didn’t want the world to freak out but now it’s out. just try and be respectful, okay? i love her a lot.” the words aren’t hard to say when they’re about her. he can say them honestly and play them off as a joke later, but for now he enjoys how nice it feels to say it.

he can see that shoyo has frozen up out of the corner of his eye. he needs to end this stream before either of them say something else they shouldn’t. he’ll answer a few more questions and slowly ease into a goodbye so that he can end the stream and debrief shoyo.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

this is a long chapter i'm sorry 💀 literally there's more but i tried to split this evenly into two chapters

kenma was literally just going through some random person's account who made edits of ice skating partners to self sabotage himself

yn wasn't sure when they'd be releasing partner pair ups and really freaked out when they were announced

she was texting everyone and tweeting a ton

she messaged her media girl like "hey i'm not comfortable with people sending me writing shipping me with atsumu can we please do something about it" and the girl replied, "what do you want me to do?? report them?? write you a message that you can tweet about your boundaries?? (yes) if that's what they want to write deal with it at least they like u"

and they wonder why she just posts whatever she's feeling on her main unless iwa tells her otherwise

noya has gotten distracted from the main topic of a chat to reply with a <3 to something nice y/n says multiple times

they're fr just best buds holding hand in the middle of a warzone where iwaizumi reigns over all

(the only two soldiers are suna and tsukishima)

suna's a lot softer without tsukishima around

he just feels like he needs his guard up around such a salty person

do not ask me why i made rofltropper an antagonist for no reason

kageyama was really just trying to finally do his english homework while waiting for hinata to come home and then he heard kuroo and oikawa start to yell

he was a little scared but then was like "if they can't reach me i'm safe" and they they slammed the door shut and his room shook a little

someone on the floor probably wrote up a complaint about them

taglist: @rinheartshyunlix @kettlepop @eggyrocks @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @keioover @does-directions @calx-bdo @staygoldsquatchling02 @cherrypieyourface @iluv-ace @kitty-m30w @h3xi2g0n3 @mylahrins @thechaosoflonging @momoriii-i @localgaytrainwreck @a-pastel-edgelord @bugglesboop @polish-cereal @osakis-gf @whykirbo @phoenix-eclipses @faesix @ryeyeyer @starxq.zip @skylarkalchemist @kunimix @sereniteav @kodzubaby (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[sinning-23]

Twice The Fun Pt.2 (Zoro x Reader x Sanji)

WELCOME TO PT.2 you guys!!!! I know I left you on a cliff hanger uhhhh but I’m apologizing for it now lmao! The point from previously still stands! This an 18+ FANFIC SO MINORs gtfo. Uhhhh yep.

Warnings: Warnings: Tagteam, creampie, gagging, light choking, p in v, unprotected, degradation, teasing, praising, double penetration, squirting, multiple orgasms, threesome (good mf lord dude this is wild)

Anyway! Enjoy!

Ps. also….pls excuse any spelling errors. I swear I proofread my work lmao and the shit still gets away from me-

P.P.S if you're feeling the need for some mood music I suggest "All I need" by LLoyd. (you're welcome bby)

PART 1 HERE

You can’t help but thrash your legs a bit as you're drapped over Zoro’s shoulder, at this point, you have a perfect view of Sanji who is keeping a nice pace behind him.

"What is the meaning of this! Release me at once you heathen!" You taunt, gasping when Zoro lands a nice firm smack to you ass again.

"S-Sanji! You just gonna let him do that to me!" You yep, trying to guilt trip the blonde, but the only half smiled/smirked, and bent down just a smidge to met your eyes.

There is a blaze of desire you know all too well behind that blue. His tongue darts out for just a moment, his piercing peeking out so sligtly. It makes your stomach flutter.

"I do recall him saying you like that. I'll leave it to him. Besides, I think you need it when you thought you could just sneak around and fuck us both without us finding out." He explains, the color in your face dropping.

Ok so you like already KNEW but like the confirmation of it all was insane to you.

"I-I wait! I can explain!" You whimper, heart beating faster and faster the more you realized where you ere headed.

Your room.

You’d only ever really hooked up with them in their own rooms...but now they were about to absolutely MIX your shit in your own.

"Too late for that." Zoro chimes, pushing your door open and setting you a bit harshly onto your bed.

You bounce upwards and see Sanji close and locked the door. The tesnison is killing you now, the way the twoof them hover over your seated form. It as only a matter time until one of them told you to-

"Take it off." Sanji stated, less of a suggestion and more of an order.

Why were you so damn nervous?? They’d both seen you in far far less classy conditions and bare as the day you were born. You swallow, obeying and pulling offth little layers you did have. They watch you, one set of blue and one set of the darest brown, trace every fiber of your being as you pull your top off...and then your shorts.

"All of it." Zoro adds, the impatience in his voice growing.

"I-" You try to find the words but another sharp gaze shuts you up.

FUCk! There was no hiding the obvious wetness that had grown over the span of this little conversation. Might as well give themma show since they wanna act all high and mighty now.

You spread your legs, resting your body weight against your forearms as you push your chest forwards. You manage to shimmy out of your panties, letting them hang from just around your ankle for a moment before moving to let the straps of your bra slie off your shoulders.

"Y'know, you guys to act like you don't like each other, but you have soo much in common." You taunt, the bra now discarded as you lay before the two.

The obvious tightness of their pants was beginning to make you feel more and more in control. You slide off the bed, and make your way in front of them, your brain at war over who you should approach first.

"Like right now, I'd bet that both of you are begging that I choose you over the other."

You inch closer, now stationed between them, Zoro to your left, Sanji to your right, You hands travel up each leg, manicured fingers skillfully working away at two separate buttons and zippers.

Your mouth waters when your fingetips come in contact with it...

"I know you both too well. So easy to read. Even if you don't think you are."

Sanji if the first to buckle, a whine of satisfaction leaving his lips when you press down on his tip over the boxer a bit more firm than before. Though your hand works at Sanji, eventually pulling his length free, your eyes are focused on Zoro, the contact making his face heat up.

How could you looks so calm, as if you're not fisting the cook beside him. The answer is simple. You know him...too well. If there was anything Zoro loved, it was attention from you.

Even though Sanji was being touched, you were looking at him. focused on him. Gauging him. And that alone was enough to make him sigh openly, his arms crossed over his chest as if to fight the feeling you'd made wash over him. The room was definitely hotter now.

You pause for a moment, sliding your hand away from Sanji so that you could now touch Zoro with both. Easy to read. Though Sanji loved your hands, your throat was more to Zoro's liking. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, the saliva there already making its way down to the tip of you tongue as you lick from base to head.

He shudders, bitting his fist as if to fight giving into you as easily as Sanji did. He knows what you're about to do and damn if it isn’t his favorite thing. Once you made it to his tip, you let your tongue fall just a little bit past your lower lip and bobbed your head. He's at the back of your throat now and your eyes are looking right at him, watery and eager to please.

"Fuck-"

They speak it at the same time and it almost blends together.

"I didn't know she could do that," Sanji admits, pumping slowly as you continue to suck Zoro for all he's worth.

He can’t help but let his hand travel to your scalp, his grip becoming tighter when you gag a bit, saliva falling down your chin, to the valley of your chest. You always were so sloppy when you did this. Sanji groans at the sight.

"Wanna try what we practiced?" Zoro asks, feeling a bit cocky at the fact that he got something Sanji didn't.

You nod, trying your best to relax your throat as Zoro trust forward , essentially fucking your face. Your hands first clench at your sided but soon find themselves resting against his thighs. Up unto this point, Zoro had been training your throat to take every last inch of him and as of right now, practice was showing to make perfect.

"Thatssss fuckin it. Taking me down your throat like that." Zoro praises, loving how the tears rolled down you melenated cheeks.

You tapped his thigh, and he was quick to let you go, being sure to let you breathe. You gasp, saliva connecting your as your eyes scream nothing but desire.

"S-Sanji." You huff, rolling your head to the side as if to beckon him closer.

He swallows, face red after seeing you take a little more then 7 inches. You shift, now bent at the waist, still facing Zoro, but on display for Sanji to see. And fuck was it a vision. Your dripping down you thighs now, your lips wet as you try your best to spread for him.

The blonde now had his hands at your waist, caressing the plush of your sides and hips. He noted how pretty your arch looked and the way you were eager to press against him.

"Si mouillé déjà chérie?" Sanji chuckles, sliding his ring up your folds, making you whine.

"S-Stop Sanji please just fuck me." You beg, steadying yourself against Zoro, who was currently caressing your jaw as if to prep it for the stretch again.

"You heard her waiter. I’m sure she doesn’t like waiting." Zoro quips, making Sanji narrow his eyes.

"Oh I know, but tha just makes this pretty pussy's reaction that much better. You’re not the only one that's gonna be surprised by what she can do." He snaps back, pushing two fingers into you, the cold metal making you moan this time. The wet squelch of his fingers is becoming louder and louder.

Now it was Sanji's turn to be cocky. Yeah sure Zoro had fucked this pussy just as much as he had...but had he gotten it to squirt as much as Sanji could? Not likely.

His r speed up, your legs buckling as you feel yourself about to snap. And after the first few drips, Sanji curled his fingers up and pulled out, sliding over your clit with a quickness.

“F-Fuck! Sanji!” You moan, your juices sliding down your thighs, onto the floor below you, and no doubt onto tbe blonde behind you.

All the while, you gripped Zoro’s thighs, fighting the urge to scream. All he could do was watch as you came undone, the sound of you squirting alone making him harder if that was even possible.

Sanji chuckles darkly, not letting up as he decided to slide into your walls, the feeling pulling gasps from the both of you. And as your mouth opened, it was full, Zoro taking the chance to claim your throat again. It’s almost too much, being filled from both ends was so much more stimulating than you thought.

One part of you was so focused on his Sanji curved into you, hitting every spongy spot he could. The other was wanting nothing but for Zoro to finally cum down your throat.

And oh god the sounds. It’s absolutely filthy, you squelching and choking mixed with the grunts of two competing and two men just as sexually inclined as you were. It’s making your head fuzzy and your pussy flutter. And damn can Sanji tell.

“Shit, squeezing, you feel so damn good.” Sanji vocalized, gripping your hips harder now.

Zoro smirks, caressing your scalp and jawline as he thrust to the back of your throat.

“Atta girl. Keep looking up just like that.” Zoro coaxes, your eyes watery.

He lets you breathe for a moment and you find it a bit difficult to when your breaths come in and out as moans when Sanji is absolutely wrecking your shit. You snap again, Sanji pulling out, smacking his tip over your folds when you squirt again.

“Like a fuckin faucet. Can’t even stay in you, you’re so wet.” Sanji hisses, the squelching of his sliding in and out of you echoing.

Zoro releases you and all tbat comes out is a strangled moan as Sanji grips your hips.

“F-Fuck, fuck, fuck! Sanji!” You whimper, gasping when Zoro forced your gaze upwards to look at him.

“You forgetting about me? Don’t tell me that cook is fucking you better than me?”

Sanji laughs at the statement, pulling out of you again, only to have Zoro change your positions completely.

It’s only a little awkward considering your senses feel so fuzzy. Sanji is beneath tou, your back against his chest and Zoro’s managed to hold your legs up, one hand under each knee.

“Wait are you- fffuck!” You moan, Sanjis hand coming to hold your throat as he slides in, And right after Zoro doing the same.

The feeling was new. So full at once and it only got better when they moved. You couldn’t help the way your body jerked with each thrust and now with your mouth free all you could do was moan, whine, and beg for more.

Zoro’s thumb finds your clit just to make, slow, calculated circles. You’re wrecked, ducked dumb almost and all you can do if warm them before you cum.

“C’mon baby cum for us.” Sanji encouraged, his lips pressing to your shoulder as you squeeze whatever you could find to hold as your orgasm wrecks you.

It doesn’t take long for Zoro’s hips to stutter, his forehead resting against yours.

“Where?” He asks, the question coming out strained as he struggles to keep from release.

“Won’t last much longer, let us know where honey.” Sanji warns.

You can’t help but be greedy, the impulsive answer slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

It’s not long before you’re filled, and you’d never head a prettier sound when Sanji hums into your shoulder, just shy of a whimper. And you’d never felt more loved and secure when Zoro cups your cheek, his lips finally finding yours when he cums, you’re lips swallowing up any souls he lets slip.

It’s calm now. The sound of waves hitting the ship lull you into a daze almost, and as full as you’re were, you’re empty when Zoro pulls out with a grunt, a swear falling past his kiss swollen lips.

Sanji swears the same when he does the same and before you could question it, you realize just how much of their cum is leaking out of you at the moment.

“Well don’t just stand there, get a towel!” Sanji scoffs, massaging your shoulders and hips, knowing the positions you’d been in could be a bit wearing on your body.

“I’m going to, calm down.” Zoro shoots back, eventually retrieving a warm rag to clean you up.

5 star aftercare. The two had managed to work together seemingly well to make sure you were taken care of and there was no shortage of kisses and featherlight caresses. Your body was definitely spent, knees weak, muscles still tight from the exertion.

Sanji slipped one of your more comfortable t-shirts over your body and Zoro slipped a pair of socks on for you. There was little to no conversation, the three of you still trying to process what just occurred. Only did you speak when both of them had turned toward your door.

“You’re leaving...” You state, the sinking in your chest feeling heavier by the second.

“This was a one time thing right?” Zoro asks, looking to Sanji for confirmation.

The blonde only shrugs.

“What no? I want you both…” You shoot back as if it were obvious.

Sanji doves his hands in his pockets, searching for a cigarette for a moment before finally finding it. You can’t help but look between the two of them for some kind of answer. Part of you feels a bit silly for assuming they just share you but if you knew anything, and you had said it before, they were more alike than they would ever admit.

Sharing wasn’t something in their vocabulary when it came to you.

___________________________________________

Authors Note: OKAYYYY How’re we feeling YALL! Bet you weren’t expecting that ensuing huh?! Lmao got just a PINCH angsty lol, y/n can’t get everything she wants womp womp.

Uhhhh anyway my ask box is always open! If you have any questions, comments, suggestions, ideas, or requests, feel free to ask!

Make sure you drink ya water today and eat a good meal! L8TER SINNERS <33

Taglist: @atinymonbebestay @darling-din

@jaree101-blog @kaptain-rebekah

@gingernut1314 @itisjustwhatitis

[gabessquishytum]

A very self-indulgent ask here. Hob, having needed to start a new life, decides to take it easy from the fast pace of the city and buys a section of land to start a little farm! Most things come back easy to him - so many years living off the land, one way or another, doesn't go away quickly.

He's patching up the old farmhouse, painting board, hammering nails, breaking a sweat through it all. He starts tilling soil and planting seeds in the smaller back garden - mostly herbs to start with. He plans to ask one of the neighbors for help with the old farm equipment that was left over by the old owner. Even in here, things have changed so much! There's so many new machines and tools! Hob honestly thought it would feel like sliding into an old well worn pair of boots (and in many ways, it still is) but it's still new and fantastical.

He gets some chickens, which makes him realize how much he missed having chickens (and fresh eggs!). He enjoys the toil, the strain of muscle that a life like this provides. He enjoys the sweat on his brow and the easy rest his finds after a long day.

Then Dream comes to him, freshly retired and still wobbly on his newly human legs. So Hob coaxes him inside his home and gives him the care he needs. And slowly, Dream takes to this new human life of his.

So Hob teaches him how life used to be (and how it still is for many). Dream finds he especially likes feeding the chickens and watching them run around, pecking away. His eyes go wide the first time he sees a week old chick moving around. He names her Jessamy. She's his favorite.

Hob tells Dream to "go wild" in the house, and Hob enjoys watching how the fantastical mural progresses on the kitchen walls. Swirling colors and scenes only possible in dreams are revealed on the old walls. Hob smiles as he hands Dream a glass of freshly made lemonade and can't help but think how perfect he looks here in the light of the setting sun with stripes of blue and purple on his cheek.

Hob figures out how the old tractor works and how to attach the tiller and the direct drill with the help of their neighbors (a friendly group - the couple down the road brought them fresh milk). They get the first field tilled and sewn with winter wheat just in time for the cold. Hob takes a picture of Dream up in the tractor, looking wildly out of place in black skinny jeans and his silk top. Dream flips him off and Hob just laughs. Dream finds he quite enjoys that sound.

Winter comes and the daily chores slow (not stop, but slow) and Dream finds himself indulging in arts even more. Hob picks up some soft yarn and hooks when they're in town and the pair of them work on learning to crochet. Dream hates his first piece - a classic granny square - but by the time the holidays approach, he's made both him and Hob well-made scarves. Hob wears his every time he goes outside. It makes Dream smile.

Spring comes and with it, so does a bustling time of planting and planning. They work in tandem, prepping fields, buying seeds and fertilizer, caring for the chickens. They start renovating the old barn for either cows or sheep - they haven't decided yet.

Dream finds he quite enjoys the look of Hob in the midst of work. The sweat on his brow, the arch of his back and the tensing of muscles under his sweat soaked shirt all make for a very appealing image. If he takes out his sketchbook and works on capturing the moment, Hob doesn't comment on the sudden loss of extra helping hands.

It comes to a head on a perfectly average Tuesday when Hob's in the kitchen, kneading dough for bread for the week. It's early still. The sun has just started to peak over the horizon, their roosters just starting to crow - Jessamy from the sounds of it (and yes, so much for thinking she was a hen). Hob hears the padding of footsteps on the cool hardwood floors when a head rests against his back. He chuckles, telling Dream good morning and says he's up early.

Dream just grumbles in reply, a pair of hands rest hesitantly on Hob's sides. Hob continues, letting Dream soak up his natural warmth as he slowly wakes. The loafs will need to be formed still once the first proof is done, so for now, he places a towel over the top of the large bowl and pushes it up to the wall.

Hob turns in Dream's gentle hold and lets his body rest against the edge of the counter. Dream huddles closer, sighing as Hob wraps his arm around him. Dream looks up, this close, their noses are just hairs away from touching. Neither say anything, but both just know as they close the distance, it was how it was supposed to be. Here, in this house they each rebuilt with their own hands, on the land they tended to and cared for, they find love within each other.

This is sooooo lovely. I am very very into the idea of Hob going back to the land and starting a little farm. And how good it would be for Dream to create a whole new realm in the waking world. A sanctuary where he can live in harmony with all the living things around him. The food is home grown and home cooked, the bed is a little lumpy but perfect after a day of hard graft. Life revolves around the act of tending and of creating. It's not too far away from what Dream is used to, but it's all so totally different as well. It's new, but it feels safe.

Hob didn't realise it, but he also really needed this. The modern world is loud and bright, and if he's honest he's been craving the quiet and the stars and the solitude for a while. Solitude with Dream is even better. Sitting on the front step cuddling their chickens, talking about how the crops used to be in the old days before the fields were enclosed. Dream draws patterns in the dust with his finger. Life is quiet. Life is good. When the stars start to come out, they'll put the chickens to bed and then clatter up to their own room, to cuddle up under the patchwork quilt that Dream worked tirelessly to make as a gift for Hob. Tomorrow is a new day to shape together. The fact that Dream is looking forward to it? That means more than he can ever say in words.

[grandlinedreams]

hey babes!!! i just want to say that i love your law fics! and i stumbled across the soulmate law fic and you talked how law is so kaz brekker coded 🥹 glad im not the only one!! i would love to see more law in kaz moments just like the scene when kaz treated inej in the bathroom (im not sure if you've done this trope before but i love the tension between kanej) 🤣

GOD BLESS YOU you know what i'm talking abt they're so similar yet different but OUGH YES i had to find my copy and reread the chapter so i could get a good read again hhhfnd

[Heads up!: some good ol' pining, mention of injuries, pre-dressrosa/post punk hazard]

The door to the bathroom is open, shiny tile and bright lighting ㅡ and you, making neat strips of clean cloth for bandaging. Law doesn't knock to announce his presence, knows he doesn't have to. Though you don't look up, you're aware of him.

"There are two doctors on this ship," he intones, "you could have had one of us patch you up."

Snip. Another strip of bandage. "Both of you are injured. I hardly think it fair to ask you to do more while you heal."

"I think you're still bleeding." Law nods to the bright red that blossoms through the bandage that you have wound around your upper arm, approaching. "I can help."

You secure yourself further against the basin, watching him. In the reflection, he catches a peek of the tattoo stamped over the topmost knot of your spine ㅡ he looks away.

"I'm sorry."

You don't ask him what he's apologizing for ㅡ there are a thousand things he could be apologizing for, a thousand that he should.

Apologies don't come easy for a man like him.

"Were you the one who shot me?" He doesn't like the way you stare at him, Law realizes. Too analytical, too much like you're pulling him apart meticulously, piece by piece. He wonders ㅡ if you reach in far enough to pull the dark, wild thing of his heart out, would you be afraid of him?

"No. Butㅡ"

"Then you have nothing to apologize for." His teeth grit, jaw aching with the force of it. You make it sound as though the world deals in absolutes, measured evenly and doled out in the same way.

It doesn't, he knows that. If the world were fair, he may still not have his family, but he'd still have Cora.

"You shouldn't have come with me." He still hasn't moved towards you, evaluating you like a cornered animal despite the relaxed set of your shoulders, the loose curl of your hands for balance on the basin.

"I pledged my loyalty to you, not to a ship crew without their captain."

Law wonders if you've ever lied in your life. You meet his gaze, and his eyes narrow. He should demand you leave ㅡ find some way to get ahold of Bepo and the others, make you leave.

(He needs you to stay.)

He finally slots himself in the space between your knees, takes hold of your arm with one hand, the scissors you'd been using with the other.

Despite the blood seeping through, the wind of bandage is neat, efficient ㅡ you've watched him do it so many times.

Snip.

Bare skin, marred only for the clean, punched hole that oozes fresh blood. If it hurts, you don't show it.

He holds his hand out without looking at you, soft cloth against his fingers that he dabs your wound with.

"What's your intention in Dressrosa?"

Blood seeps into the cloth. "This should be stitched."

He doesn't need to look up to know you're staring at him. He can feel your gaze, fights the urge to look at you. "It's fine."

He winds white bandage around it, lost in the soft loop around your arm as he finally answers your question. "To bring down Doflamingo."

Scissors gleam in the lighting overhead. Your eyes, dark moon pupils haloed by color ㅡ dismantling him, piece by piece. "What are you really after?"

Snip.

The scissors clatter into the basin as his hands meet the mirror on either side of your head. This close, he could kiss you. Let his hands wander, touch, selfishly covet the way he so badly wants to. But he doesn't.

(His hands are bloodstained, and yours are not.)

His eyes lock with yours, his fingers curling. "The means to an end."

[breannasfluff]

Legend catalogs the reaction he’s noticed of each person with the newest hero.

Wild scares the ever-loving shit out of Four. The smithy steers far away whenever he can help it and his eyes swirl a riot of colors. Legend’s watched him circle the Champion at a prescribed distance—a good 10 feet away if he can make it. Situations that bring him closer result in a flighty energy that steadily worsens until Four bolts further away.

Hyrule spouts so much flowery language and courtly manners he gives Warriors a run for his money. The veteran didn’t know he even knew that many manners, much less how to use them properly. Yet every greeting to Wild is some drawn-out, overextended mess of words that leaves everyone confused. The champion doesn’t seem to get it, either, so who knows why Hyrule insists on keeping it up.

Warriors…well, Legend’s not sure what happened between him and Wild, but the captain is waging a one-man war against his chainmail. Some days he wears it and others he’s stripping as fast as he can. It’d be funny if he didn’t look so frightened. Or if the chainmail stripping didn’t coincide with Wild’s close attention.

Wind is too easy-going to stay away from the champion, but he doesn’t seek him out, either. When they stop at rivers or lakes to bathe, the sailor goes in the water before or after Wild, but never at the same time.

Sky looks perpetually ill, sometimes tripping over nothing when Wild runs up to him. The champion peppers him with questions about his loftwing, or his Zelda. The last brings a frown to his face and if Legend didn’t know the chosen hero was just that, he’d say Sky was jealous.

Legend? He thinks Wild is fucking awesome . Oh, he’s still scary as any monster—scarier, even. The champion brings with him the ache of cold teeth, like chewing on an icicle or eating cold food too fast. Prolonged conversation with him results in a headache.

There’s something wrong with Wild, but not enough to keep Legend away. After so many adventures, it’s rare to find something that surprises him so thoroughly. As long as he doesn’t start manifesting dream creations, he can stay.

“You want to spar?” Legend plants himself in front of Wild, ignoring Warriors choking behind him.

Wild looks up, eyes reflecting light in a way they shouldn’t. “Spar?” It probably hasn’t escaped his notice that no one will fight him, even in training.

“Sure, I need to loosen up.” Rolling his shoulders, Legend moves towards the open area Four and Hyrule were using earlier. The sharp spike of cold goes straight to his head and he futilely presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth, trying to warm it.

Warriors, stick in the ass that he is, is trying to get them to stop. “I don’t know if that’s a great idea right now.” He casts about for an excuse, then shifts pleading eyes to Time.

The old man looks like he’s not paying attention, but the veteran catches the tightening in his shoulders and sideways glance. “Play nice, stay safe. Run through some drills, first.”

He’s not a child to be told what to do. Legend tosses one of the practice staves at Wild, not willing to consign himself to metal against the other. “Here, this should do.”

Wild runs a hand over the wood and bends it over a knee, checking it won’t snap. Then he nods and waits for Legend, who stares back.

“Drill?”

“What drill?” Wild’s head tips too far to one side.

Legend doesn’t answer, just starts running through some basic moves. Wild watches but doesn’t join in. Finally, he stops. “Forget it. Fighting or not?”

“Boys,” comes Time’s voice.

“Whatever.” Legend ignores him and raises his stick. “Ready? Go!”

Wild’s not ready, but Legend makes a wide swing to give him time to settle. The kid made it through his journey with whatever weirdness he’s got going on; he can handle one spar without chopping someone’s head off.

His follow-up swing is met with the crack of wood; Wild’s focus is fully on the fight, now. He stays on defense, then switches to offense, and then back again.

Wild’s style is…unique, in that it seems to be a mash of moves with little flowing grace, but he’s a proficient fighter. He’s focused and in control. He doesn’t turn into evil incarnate because he’s crossing blades—or staves, with someone. Warriors worries over nothing.

Legend keeps up, periodically landing faster hits to see how he’ll react. Through it all, the sharp ache in his teeth grows. It’s distracting and the adrenaline of movement isn’t enough to block it out. The tightening band around his head is an indication enough of the growing headache.

Finally, Legend steps back and raises his stave to signal an end. Wild stays poised for one, sharp moment, then steps back as well with a grin.

“Thanks, this was fun.”

Nodding back, Legend tosses the stave to the side and meanders across the camp. Time’s gaze burns, but he ignores it to settle next to Four, far away from Wild and his tooth-aching chill.

The champion may be awesome, but curse the Goddesses, Legend could do without the headache.

Read the rest here!

[moyashidoodles]

Tiny doodles of Pidge (my Tav) from act 1 and early act 2. Her hair changed for each act so it’s easy to tell where they are in their journey by how disheveled she looks.

Pidge is a wild magic sorcerer with an affinity for soul magic. She can see the color of others souls (I don’t consider this game breaking, but also it’s my brain baby so idc if that’s possible in the 5e rule set) there are some supplemental fan spells and materials for adding soul magic and flavor and there’s the soul knife subclass rogue which I think was a Critical Roll addition? Ugh, look at me spreading misinformation on the internet.

OC lore below the cut.

Content warning: abusive relationship discussion (parent and child), implied sexual and physical abuse.

Anyway, Pidge grew up Rapunzel like with a very controlling and narcissistic “mother knows best” mom. The only reason her mother even had a child was to be a “spare” body for when her mother succumbed to a fatal illness (and to help her mother transfer souls into soul coins and gems to be bartered in the 9 hells. Lots of devil’s work)

Pidge’s mother is controlling to the extent that Pidge was not allowed to learn anything about her wild magic and spent much of her life warded to keep her from accessing the weave. “For her own safety,” of course. The only magic she was allowed and praised for learning was soul magic, and this was to help her mother with her research into immortality and with business ventures.

Pidge was also used as “entertainment” for her mother’s important guests. Basically anything that her mother could get from Pidge, she would try to use to her benefit.

About 3-5months before the beginning of the game, Pidge escaped and crafted an amulet to protect her body and soul from being hijacked by her mother.

She is the only member of the bg3 origin crew who did not lose skills when she was infected by the tadpole. She didn’t really have skills to begin with. Much to Gale’s dismay, she learns basically on the fly and does a lot of “firebolt first, ask questions later.” To her, practical experience is much more important than book learning. Really she has adhd and can’t rote memorize for the life of her.

She identifies with Karlach early on as they both have had dealings with the hells, although Pidge is just beginning to understand the ramifications of her mother’s hellish business of soul coin forging.

Pidge is also very afraid in act 1 of Gale finding her out as she was told to keep her soul magic affinity secret by her mother. In truth the stigma for soul magic is not so bad, but it was a manipulation technique to keep Pidge from explaining to any magic practitioners what they were working on and how her mother planned to use the research to steal Pidge’s body.

Her mother is still hunting her down, so Pidge needs a permanent solution or soul barrier to keep herself from her mother “living vicariously” through her.

Bodily autonomy is stupid important to her. She rejects the Emperor the moment he tells her to “embrace her ilithid potential” for fear of losing herself. She is self conscious to the extreme and keeps notes on her newfound companions likes and dislikes so she can keep them happy. She had a legitimate panic attack when both Gale and Astarion wanted the necromancy of Thay because, according to her calculations, they would disapprove if the other was the recipient.

She fell for Astarion after rather disliking him for a good ten day or two. He won her over by being actually reliable in scrapes and being really funny. She can’t remember the last time anyone made her laugh, so she loves the feeling. They are the two smooth brained members of the group. Similar brain cell count.

This ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would be. If you made it to the end, then you will have made it to the end! *salutes in Barcus Wroot*

[trashlama]

How about future mikey and leo trying to get with reader and there "ha bitch i get her first!" And reader in the background "man they are great *friend*"

A Mikey and Leo rivalry? I can work with that.

Knowing these two this would probably end up being in a situation like the Jupiter Jim sidekick competition episode/or the Mafia Boss Dinner episode.

Both instances the brothers bumped heads to gain favor. Willing to pull whatever to gain an advantage over the opposing brother. Vying for the approval of their idol and table.

Though instead of Space Points and unicorns this two-man competition's prize was your affections. And were they determined to win it. By any means necessary.

Because of this pretty broad concept I conjured up a couple scenarios. One that is pretty long(wouldn't call it a drabble but, I guess it could be), and the rest are pretty short and sweet.

Sorry if these are pretty fluffy!

Enjoy!

1.) Mikey and Leo budding heads over who would their newly acquired yokai friend would prefer romantically.

It was obvious you liked them. You visited their home all the time. Polite and friendly. Always happy to lend a hand when needed.

A darling Oni that has been relentlessly plaguing Mikey and Leo's thoughts since their first encounter with you on a trip to the Mystic City market. Lost in the sea of merchants and patrons your light shined the brightest amongst the populace they swam through. Memorized by your character they found themselves hooked. They needed more of you in their lives. They just couldn't get enough. You were too addictive. Like a good slice of pizza that demanded seconds. They craved more.

It wouldn't take long until a disagreement sparked between them because of Leo's arrogance and lack of self-control. Mikey although capable of choosing his battles would not stand for Leo's blatant antagonism. Defending that he too was just as capable of obtaining your attention as his older blue color coded sibling . After some back and forth bickering the two would arrive at an agreement.

They'd settle this just like everything else they both wanted. Compete for it.

And the prize? You and the bragging rights that came with.

With a handshake the match was set.

And so let the games begin!

The following weeks when visiting the Mad Dog's Lair a ceaseless competition between the red eared slider and box turtle. Given the opportunity the two wild child Hamatos would one-up each other. Both in their own unique way of trying to woo you.

Leo being the showoff that we all love and snicker at would approach this with all the swagger in the world. Bombarding you with compliments and grand gestures. Surprising you with sentiments of affection and trips all around the metropolis. Showboating his skills on the court and in a match. Pulling out all the stops to make sure every time you guys hung out was memorable. After all he's got a girl and bragging rights to win.

Mikey would just try to play it cool in his own Mikey-ish way. And by cool, I mean over the top. Using equally cringy pick-up lines and gestures that anyone else that wasn't you, would've recognized right away for their romantic undertones. Attentive and sweet constantly whipping up snacks and treats just so he could gift them to you. Encouraging you to join the box turtle playing games and other extracurricular activities. Doing anything to get you alone with him. He wasn't losing you to Leo! Not on his watch.

Meanwhile you found the whole charade fun. Finding humor in the way the color coded brothers would squabble as they butted heads over what most would consider little things.

Since the encounter that introduced you to the turtles the grass was a little greener on your side. Finding acceptance amongst the family of mutated Hamatos despite your lineage. Being a kijo wasn't an easy life for a yoaki. So finding someone let alone a whole group of similarly fated individuals who didn't immediately shun you was a blessing. To the Hamato clan you were just another friend. And for someone like you that was a tough commodity to come by. So of course when the turtles— especially a pair of blue and orange bandana wearing brothers wanted to invite you all over the place. Who were you to deny such an opportunity?

You were just glad to have such great friends.

2.) A friend of April's that they both found interest in and compete to woo their s/o. Ooonnllly for the reader to be into Raph/or Donnie. Naive s/o just thought she's making a great first impression with her crush's family. Not realizing instead you further stoked the fire between the red eared slider and box shell.

3.) Human s/o convinced by Mikey and Leo to visit the Mystic City with them. The two using the excursion as a way to settle who you would prefer to date out of the two of them by putting you through wild ass obstacles. Such as them taking out to eat to see who could pick out the best dish for you, taking you down to the mystic market to see who could pick out the best gift, even going as far as taking a detour so they could purposely run into trouble so they both could 'save' you. To only find out later after all of this once they return you home that you already had a human boyfriend. Welp guess they're going to have to team up to take out the real competition.

4.) A newly mutated s/o who Mikey and Leo try to woo as they try to 'help' you adjust to your new form. Taking advantage that you mutated into a turtle so that they can get closer to you. Claiming that because their turtles too that they would be able to help with the transition process. S/o just thinks they're great friends meanwhile in the background Leo and Mikey bumping heads over who will get to be with you when spring comes.

Annnnd that's all for now folks!

I probably could've come up with more but, I suck.

Here's a little author's note in regards to requests↓

Sorry about slackin' on the request! I'm also sorry about the requests not being posted in the order that may have been requested in. They don't really have dates next to them so I kinda've been pickin' and choosin' the ones I can get out quickly. I suck I know. Buuuuttt, the reason others that may be older is also because I want them to come out good. Everything I make may it be writin' or drawin' I always try to work on soemthin' until I'm satisfied with it. I hate creating something that I don't like. I like for all my stuff to be on some level unique, personal. I make these for you guys so I want you guys to feel like I actually gave a damn rather than just throwin' somethin' together and saying tada. Once again sorry about this long ass message. I haven't abandoned these requests. I'm just slow due to some outside forces and my own personal stuff.

Thank you guys for bearing with me and I hope you guys enjoyed these!

I hope you guys have a great day!

Here's some memes I came across while at work.

Sorry this is long↓ I don't own these memes. I've never claimed to do so. I just come across them on Pinterest when I'm on break at work and think they're funny so I like to share them. If I mistakenly put one on here that I shouldn't have please let me know! I like to respect people's wishes. And if you could add the creator names too that would be great so the same mistake isn't made twice. Sorry for the inconvenience that my sharing may cause. I hope you have a good day.

[toxic-transvestite]

Minecraft altars

Pt: Minecraft altars

Before this starts I'd like to note two things! One, I am not an expert. I am but a guy in the internet who loves to talk like one. Take everything I said with a grain of salt and through your own perspectives. Two, this is coming from a PCP witch! The altar I will be using as base example is for a PCP god. I'm assuming the same principles apply for any kind of god, but keep in mind that's where I'm coming from.

This post also uses altar to refer to a space for an entity. Similar things can apply for more personal altars though!

That's out of the way, here's some tips for building an altar in Minecraft! (Under the cut bc it's going to be a long one)

1. Pocket vs Bedrock and Java

There are benefits to both of these! I find controls on bedrock to be easier, especially if you're already used to your choose devices controls. Honestly Java is my favorite place to play Minecraft in general, but it's not always the best for an altar. Pocket addition has the benefit of being (easily) transportable. You can use it as a travel altar unlike the other two. (This mainly applies to those who aren't already versed in Minecraft) (also obviously price plays a part in this as well)

2. Building skills

These are obviously not a requirement. I just like everything being pretty. If you also like everything being pretty, watch a few Minecraft build videos! They can be short form on TikTok or long form. Try to observe techniques used and replicate them. (Only applies if you care about aesthetics and not just function!)

3. Inspiration ideas

This'll be the longest section I fear. It'll be a list within a list! Things you may want to keep in mind when building;

- Actual altars/temples. Whether these be full scale ones or in house ones. You can take inspiration from your own if you have one, or observe others! You can also take inspiration from architecture from your entity's time period.

- Associations. Are there animals, plants, other entities, ECT that your entity is related to? Try to include those! For example, the entity I was building for is associated with another person who's associated with red. So I added hints of red into the altar. I put bookshelves inside, and crops outside. Color magic also applies here! Minecraft has basically any color candle you could want so you can go wild. Item frames are an easy way to display items that are associated with your entity as offerings.

- Imagery. There might be a painting that resembles your entity. Or a mob, or any of the many things in Minecraft. Try having a scroll through the inventory and see what seems right

- Prayer/spell books. Minecraft has both a book you can write in and bookshelves you can put those books in. It is entirely possible to use this to create a library of prayers or spells.

- Paintings. While I've forgotten how to do it, it is possible to upload images into Minecraft. If you're like me and don't particularly feel like doing that and want a painting, go through the default ones and choose one that resonates

That's all! If I've forgotten anything please add on! I'd love to hear other's input on this. Thank you for reading this novel of a post. Remain respectful in the notes and have a good day!

(note: if you'd like to see the altar I built feel free to ask! This post is already long enough so I won't be attaching it here)

[ficzhub]

A Legacy: A Snowbaird fan fiction.

Chapter 1

Relief doesn't begin to describe what he felt when he realized he was in fact, not a ephebophile. Simply a man still in love with his lost girl. It wasn't easy to find her, the wilds are difficult to navigate even with the most advanced technology available. But persistence is key, he never gave the search a day's rest. The moment he came into enough power to delegate the necessary steps that would go into finding her, he did. My, is he glad he did. He found so much more than he could've imagined. He almost regretted having to eventually pluck her from her prairie. Here she was, perfect little wildflower. Dark curls braided out of her sable face, small sylvester flowers rained on in a crown forshadowing the metaphorical crown she'd soon wear as his darling girl in the capital where they belong.

Despite the constant frigid temperatures of the wilds beyond the desolation of 13, the sun still shone bright in the early spring. Excellent light but did little to warm anything. Still, watching the bright sun shining off her rich hair and pebbled, freckled skin sheened slightly in sweat from her labor brought him a calm he hadn't experienced anything even close to since he'd been in her presence. He could watch for hours as she went through her morning routine in the tiny cabin she shared. Getting water to boil for their mushroom tea, gathering honey to sweeten it. Wondering if she had to risk getting her nearly onyx eyes or dainty hands stung to obtain it. Eating a few bites of whatever game the traders exchanged with her. The bulk of it being fish, sometimes uncommon sea creatures like octopus or such but as good for sustenance as he could wish for them, explaining the surprising but delightful realization that Lucy Gray looks better fed here than she'd ever looked back in 12.

The changes of her body, though mostly welcome, did confound him briefly. The previous night she'd disrobed before sleeping and he saw the widened flare of her hips, the greater swell of her breasts and darkening of her nipples, the beastly diagonal claw-like marks on her flat but loose abdomen and pert backside. It all made sense when he caught sight of him, Silas Ochre. A boy of eleven, and already much taller and more muscular than he himself had been at that age. Vindicating his theory that if Coriolanus been properly fed, he'd be a much more physically imposing figure. The boy opened the door with his free hand, his left occupied holding basket containing a variety of plants the camera can't completely capture from this angle.

It was agony finding her and knowing it would take a few days before the undetectable cameras would be remotely set up to use. All his men had told him after finding her was that she was living in a cabin with a boy and a woman around her age. He'd figured she'd run into a mother with her son and came together with them but the mother in question had been her all along, and what a mother she's turned out to be. Silas Ochre is an incredibly intelligent, resourceful, capable and beautiful child. His hair is a golden shade of brown with curls that shine blindingly in the sun, clearly his hair had had to have been lighter ages ago, much blonder like himself. His skin is much like that of his mother, the color of strong black tea with a dash of milk and his eyes a dazzling shade of blue, like everything else, darker than that of his father. It's as if the deeper pigment from his mother protected him in a manor his father's lightness couldn't.

Silas Ochre hunts like he was born to it. No cruelty is ever caused with his knife, only quick, merciful deaths the creatures never see coming, so unlike the offspring Coriolanus has produced with Livia who'd relish in the gore. The boy named Calix in his home borderline disgusts him. His petulance grates at his already strained nerves, his entitlement irritating him to the point of near violence. Livia's family would withdraw any support they provide if he ever did anything to properly discipline his miscreant son. The boy is turning nine and still throws tantrums like when he toddled. If his father's legacy is left to him, he'll destroy everything he ached building in a matter of a few short years, squander it like a common fool. At first glance, there's resemblance between he and his son. But Coriolanus knows, Calix's palor is that of his mother's. His shade of blond, the blue of his eyes, the shapes of his nose and mouth, all Livia's.

The likeness between Silas Ochre and his father is more subtle but obvious if one knows what their looking for. The forms of his young son's still developing muscles so like his own, visible after his peacekeeper's duties and thankfully not lost since. The proportions of his body, long arms and legs good for reaching high and running far. His lips are shaped like that of his mother's sweet mouth, but fuller like his own. The slightly downward slant of his eyes is like his father's despite the darker shade of blue inside them, the flare of his nostrils at the end of his long nose completely unlike the button nose his Lucy Gray dawns. The broadness of his shoulders to the tapering of his waist, his hairline, the shape of his strong hands. All obvious indicators of who impregnated his mother.

Coriolanus blazes to see Lucy Gray as she was when she was pregnant with him. Face rounded, arms, legs and tight bottom cushioned for her and his son's comfort. Hips broadening more as each day passes, breasts growing to become fit to feed their child producing a milk he can only imagine was a luscious nectar. Finally, belly growing bloated with their perfect progeny. The need to keep her full of his babies is one of his main purpose for wanting to keep her close to him, here in the capital despite their idyllic lives in the forest. Silas Ochre was a good example of how flawless their children would be.

Livia is pregnant again with another boy and as much as he knows he's supposed to, he doesn't love the children he has with her. The feelings of obligation and basic familial commitment pale in comparison to the fatherly love and adoration he already feels for the nearly teenaged boy, who likely has no idea who he is and who Coriolanus has never even laid eyes on in the flesh. He knows more clearly than he knows he loved his mother and Tigris, that he'd do anything to protect this child. The ferocity, the potency of his emotions overwhelmed and displeased him. So much like when he fell in love with his Lucy Gray, he knows this boy, like his mother, could get anything they want out of him. He'd relinquish it with a smile on his face as long as it made them happy. That vulnerability frightens him more than any threat any of his enemies have ever made.

The rabbits, squirrels and other animals his more competent son obtains are used in their entirety. He guts and skins them so his still sensitive mother never needs to see such ugliness. He simply presents her with the pelts for her to use as needed and gives the innards to the woman they live with for her to do what she must with them. Lucy Gray treats the fresh skins and furs in their tiny fireplace, cleans them in the river nearby and hoards them until she has enough to make a full article of clothing with them. He's spent days watching them, learning their habits and observing their behaviors. The traders come by twice a week, she'll trade fresh garlic mustard or wild ginger for whatever she and her friend "Holly May" had asked for during their previous visit. Dairy products such as butter or cheeses, salt, even sea shells on occasion are taken in exchange of safe plants to consume and fresh land game and even baby soft fur overcoats to brave the harsh conditions farther north.

Holly May was clearly responsible for teaching his son how to sustain himself. Lucy Gray might've taught him how to tie intricate knots, gather fresh fruits and render oils from any plants they might find but Holly May taught him how to be an efficient killer. A skill not to be overlooked or undertrained in when in these circumstances. The traps they use are expansive and detailed, anything that wanders in will be done away with in a matter of seconds with almost no time to realize they're dying. She taught him how to gut and skin the animals quickly and cleanly, not letting the food become contaminated by any filth by letting the pelt cover everything until every organ is removed and placed in Holly May's hands to be cleaned in boiled, cooled water and coated in salt and spices to preserve for harsher times.

The traders this time traded a small spile for two dark brown coats. Coriolanus couldn't understand why Lucy Gray would make what seems like such a poor exchange, she handed the tool to Holly May and she hammered it into a tree. The cold wood didn't let her penetrate without a fight, bouncing off the metal a few times before finally piercing through to the tenderer wood inside. She instructed Silas Ochre to fetch something and he returned promptly with a bucket and some sort of covering. She placed it beneath the tree and simply left it there. It wasn't until a few hours later he realized it's a maple tree and Lucy Gray was clearly craving some sweetness honey can't provide, given the persistent medicinal taste that lingers after you eat it.

Coriolanus found himself envying their simple lives. The grueling work of finding their food and their warmth daily, knowing the next winter might be harsher than the last and not knowing if the previous harvest will be enough to hold them until it's over. But never having to worry about large scale betrayals, or political intrigue. Never concerning yourself with the competition because there hardly is any. Your competition around the cabin are other animals not nearly as strategic as you are and always good for thicker furs or emergency meat. On the rare occasion that a passerby might make things more difficult for you, you can always dispose of them fairly simply.

He ponders if his son, just beginning pubescence, would be capable of that.

********

The observation period lasts weeks. Coriolanus finishes work and returns home to watch the recordings that have been gathered, sometimes not even bothering to eat or wash up before sitting to watch his distant family go about their business. He's ambivalent about his realization that Lucy Gray was better off without him than he would've guessed. On the one hand, had she not been better off her and their son would've died likely before he was even born and then where would he be? Just a bitter man of nearly thirty living a life with nothing bringing him any genuine happiness the way just watching his amazing son and still gorgeous songbird does. A cousin who raised him but now nearly ignores him, a wife he can't stand who's given him sons that were meant to be a continuation of the Snow line and legacy but one only inspires irritation and resentment in him and the other is yet to be born but he doesn't hold out much hope for. He knows he'll feel little affection for him, too. He'll be too like his insipid mother, and have too much of Coriolanus' most distasteful traits, like Calix.

On the other, he relished in knowing his Lucy Gray needed him. In his most self indulgent and self-aggrandizing fantasies, she always needed him. Either needed him to save her from some kind of evil, a touchy ex-lover, a murderous and petty mean girl with a senseless vendetta against her, an incompetent man with too much power like Mayor Lipp, which he in fact made sure to scrap from office as soon as he had the authority to and place someone more fitting in his place. Someone he knew wouldn’t give The Covey any trouble.

Other fantasies have more masturbatory wishes. She needs him because he’s fed her, needs him because he’s given her water to drink when she was deathly thirsty. She needs him because she’s horribly sore and he can do away with her aches and pains. Because she needs him to satiate her desire for closeness and pleasure when in reality it’s him that needs satiating. He that feels a desperate longing to touch her again because nothing and no one else feels as good.

Every day he gets to watch as she fetches water from the river that runs near her shoddy, unprotected home, brings it back to boil clean on her fireplace in a large metal pot. She collects the water in a separate container and lets any debris settle at the bottom, carefully brings it outside and waits for it to cool. She takes out a soap either she traded for or made on her own and undresses. He feasts his eyes on her, angry that any of his men might’ve seen this footage before he did. Notices her dark nipples puckering in the cold, thankfully there’s not much wind. He’d hate for her to get sick. He laments the camera quality isn’t fine enough to zoom in on her, to see her tender flesh develop goosebumps. She slowly pours the purified, hot water over herself and starts scrubbing her skin with the soap and an old, filthy looking rag.

He wonders what the soap smells like, if it’ll interfere with the aroma he remembers her having. The wild rose and fresh, ripe peach that no amount of synthesis has been able to replicate to his liking. Either it smells too manufactured or the rose scent is too clean, or the peach fragrance is too saccharine, or they don’t quite match the slightly musky trail she always had. According to the perfumers, it has a great deal to do with the pheromones one produces and picks up in another’s. Biology dictates that unless you’re wearing a strong perfume or cologne, the way you smell is subjective to whomever may be smelling you. Sometimes it permeates through even the strongest of artificial fragrances. He knows there’s no way Lucy Gray ever made enough money through her performances to buy a perfume of any kind, despite her immense talent. Much less a strong, manufactured fragrance that even in The Capital, people struggle to afford. No, of course not. Her hygiene perhaps, some rustic soap much like the one she uses now, purchased at The Hob is what she used, and a rag with any water she could find was used to keep herself clean. The scent Coriolanus remembers so fondly is all their own, produced by her and to be inhaled by him.

He ponders what he might’ve smelled like to her, if she enjoyed his scent even half as much as he delighted in hers. If his resulted in the same warm sensation in her groin that grew in his whenever he inhaled by her neck, slick with the day’s sweat.

[aaronsrpgs]

A Worksheet Manifesto (Rough Draft)

The Worksheet Manifesto is an attempt to explain why I'm moving my game design toward something I can print for free at the public library and give away. It's not a scold or a call to action; I buy full-color zines and hardcover books, and I support people charging for their work. This is a personal manifesto—an exercise in self-exploration.

The first reason I pursue this is ACCESS. I want people to be able to find and play my games. (Accessibility is maybe a better word for this, but I don't want it confused with the process through which something is made easier to use for people with disabilities.)

Some of the main barriers I've seen are financial (someone can't afford my games), technological (lack of computers and/or printers makes it more complicated to read my games), and international (shipping to someone outside the U.S. is prohibitively expensive).

Combining these three elements, I realized I wanted my games to be cheap or free. The common "community copies" solution on itch.io is much touted, and for good reason, but as I tried explaining the process to friends who weren't familiar with the site (or who flat-out aren't tech savvy), many responses were confused or frustrated. So I've set most of my games to pay-what-you-want with a suggested price.

Going from computer tech to printer tech, my most recent games were laid out in black and white, without ink-sucking textures (although some still have large spots of black in the art--something I continue to consider). Many American libraries offer limited free printing, and I always hope people will "utilize" the printers at their jobs or schools. I want people to be able to easily print out my games and share them at the table or pass them to friends.

And more selfishly, I hate dealing with fulfillment and shipping. It's stressful for me, it requires money up front to print things, and I'm bad at it, which means shipments go out slow, or not at all if someone lives outside of the U.S. Creating a file that's easy to print hopefully encourages people to create their own copies.

These cheap print copies also hopefully contribute to a feeling of DISPOSABILITY. I grew up with comic books, magazines, newspapers, and mass market paperbacks, and I think these cheap, short slabs of culture helped them feel like someone could engage with them without having to be fancy or educated or in the know. (A lot of us gatekeep ourselves!)

Prices for RPGs, like so many nerd collectibles, have steadily risen at least since the start of the pandemic. Crowdfunders often capitalize on FOMO, encouraging people to go all in on deluxe hardcovers with fabric bookmarks or whatever. And if my experience working at a used game store is anything to go by, lots of those fancy editions go right onto the bookshelf, unread. Don't want to break the spine or get fingerprints on it!

And I guess I'm just against consumerism? If someone wants a nice thing, I hope they get it, but a culture of games as luxury items and status symbols is not something I'm interested in.

So if someone has a game of mine and they don't want it anymore, I hope they pass it on, put it in a little free library, or recycle it.

And those dirty little printouts of my games? I want people to touch them and write them. I want TACTILITY. This is partially a usability issue: 300-page hardcovers are hard to find information in, and they're heavy if you have to lug them to a friend's house.

So I try to design games where everything a player (including the GM) needs is on, at most, three sheets of paper. I want them to be able to spread a couple pages out and take in the shape of the game they're about to play. I want them to circle things and make notes in the margins. Moving a pencil around does wild things to your brain, the same way that picking at a guitar or molding clay does. It focuses attention in interesting ways.

And in the end, you hopefully have a personalized article of play. And if you spill beer on it, no one's worried about replacing that $50 hardcover.

Speaking of beer, I want my games to be available to and contribute to COMMUNITY. As the pandemic started, I retreated into lots of online spaces, and those were absolutely vital to my survival. But I lost touch with lots of my friends and acquaintances in my city. I want to reconnect with them.

One of my favorite cartoonists, Mark Connery, is known for drawing little zines and just...leaving them all over. Coffee shops, art galleries, bathrooms. And when I think of him, I think of an artist responding directly to the places around him. Is it sad that some of this work is probably "lost" to all readers other than the person that happens across the zine? A little bit. But I think that comes from a bad part of my brain, the part that wants to own things.

I certainly don't want the entirety of my own work collected and widely distributed. Some of those things were specific responses to specific times that I've moved past. Some were bad! But I want to keep responding to my specific times and my specific place. I want to give things to friends (even if they just pass them on or recycle them). I want to give a game to someone at a zine fest and have them recognize my name from a zine they read in a coffee shop bathroom. And maybe they'll give me a zine in return.

My last hangup is MODULARITY. First, similar to tactility, I want to be able to give a player only the rules that matter to them. Character creation and basic rules? Here's a page. And once you're familiar with that and we've entered a downtime phase, here's a page with those options. You want to start a farm? Here's a page. I want it to feel like printing coloring pages for kids or ripping out my favorite magazine articles. These are the parts that matter. And if they stop mattering, you can get rid of them.

But I also want modularity on a system level. I want to add a subsystem to game as I think of it. I want to throw in an adventure pamphlet when it comes to me. I can keep them all in a little box, like a care package from my past self, and when it's time to run a game, I can dig around like a verminous animal and build my nest out of the best bits.

In CONCLUSION, I want to reiterate that this is a personal practice, and I'm not criticizing people who work differently. I used to work differently, and in the future, I'll probably work differently again.

This is simply the way I've identified what's important to me, set that up against the things that cause me to stumble, taken advantage of the privileges I have, and tried my best to bring that all together in a way that keeps me excited about my own work.

[liamthemailman]

♠️♥️House of Cards♣️♦️

♦️Jack of Diamonds♦️

Private Kyle 'Jack' Harper's Bio

- Information -

Name : Kyle Harper

Codename : Jack

Status : Alive

Rank : Private

Citizenship : American

Bit of a wild card, no?

- Physical Profile -

Height: 5'7 feet

Gender : ? [he/her/they]

Age : 21 years old

Blood type: AB Pos

Eye color: Light Brown

Hair color: Light Blond

Tattoos : Right forearm

Additional Notes : Ear piercings to be removed as ordered

- Personality -

Jack is easily the most outgoing person in any room. He seems to always have energy despite having gone through rigorous training or having just returned from a week long operation. It's easy for Jack to spread this positive influence among his friends but people can find Jack annoying when his energy is misplaced.

Jack is cocky. She thinks she's hot shit. While she is performing quite well for her little experience, Jack is far from the best. Jack lives by the motto of 'Fake it till you make it'.

In addition to their cocky behavior, Jack is not the easiest recruit to deal with. Jack does follow orders when required of them, but that is about as far as they would go. Jack is purposefully leaving in their piercings or generally being a bit of a brat, all trivial matters, and giving his superiors headaches.

This however, does not stop Jack from being the most loyal recruit to his team. Jack always has an eye out for her fellow soldiers, even helping out her superiors when their hour of need arises. Jack always tries to make it even with anyone who's helped them.

- Skill Set -

Weapon(s) : Jack relies on questionable gadgets to help him out in fights, ranging from dummy grenades to dupe his enemies to flat out thermal weapons like Molotov cocktails. Now, Jack isn't able to use fire in battle, so he turns to bombs.

Combat Style : The skills Jack picked up are skills taught to her by her mentor(s). This means he's learning marksmanship and close combat.

Specialized skill : While Jack has no solid specialized skill as of yet, they have a really good pair of legs, being able to outrun and outjump nearly everyone.

- Background -

Jack had always known he wanted to protect the community. That and she really didn't see herself at a boring job till she retires. Originally, Jack had planned on becoming a firefighter, but soon Jack learned that her passion lied with fires, not putting them out. So, Jack opted for the military when he reached of age right after his family relocated to Britain.

In the military however, Jack found themselves in a less than desirable situation of being underestimated. For being so short and unfamiliar with the local customs. Jack vowed not to let this weigh him down, using is as fuel to pass selection.

Jack's loud persona soon caught the attention of a certain Lieutenant Ace. Jack doesn't understand that Ace saw a bit of his past self in them. Causing trouble and diving head first into problems without a second thought. Jack continued to train under Ace until he was told that she had been recommended into joining Task Force Cards. Jack would grow attached to Ace, thinking of him as a good friend and lowkey father figure to herself.

There, Jack met King. King doubted him from the get-go, but seeing it was Ace who insisted that Jack is a strapping young man with lots of potential to grow into a good soldier, Jack was them welcomed into the team. King would then learn that Jack was reckless, needlessly loud and outright rebellious. They both keep it barely civil, but don't interact outside of work.

Jack met Queen right after meeting King. King had assigned Queen to mentor Jack, not knowing Ace was already guiding Jack in his own ways. Jack takes in stride, weighing out that the two had valuable skills they could pick up. Despite Queen obviously trying to straighten out Jack, he didn't get shaped according to her norm. Jack didn't find himself liking Queen, but she was loyal to her despite it all.

- Additional Information -

Jack carries around a rope everywhere, being able to utilize this piece of material in many scenarios. Jack is looking to use it in fights after seeing the use of the Punjab Lasso in Phantom of the Opera. Though, Jack doesn't like to admit they found inspiration for it through theatre

Jack doesn't bother to hide his love for fire. Jack would carry at least one source of fire on himself, be it a lighter or a box of matches. Jack also makes her own bombs, building for a more fiery reaction when set off. Her goal is to one day be able to roast an enemy with fire instead of a bomb. Just your local arsonist fighting against the Geneva convention.

Jack is the easiest person, and often the go-to for companionship. Jack cracks the best jokes and laughs at his own lame jokes and funny shenanigans. Jack smiling widely is also very cute, which says even more when all their teeth are jagged and sharp. Jack is also the recruit the called Ace's smile weird. She stands by what she says.

- Favourites -

Drink: Monster Mango Loco

Food: Strawberry Cake

Animal: Jackrabbits

Hobby: Going for jogs or walks along the beach, collecting lighters

Weather: Sunny beaches and clear blue skies

Song: Bad Boy - Yung Bae, bbno$, Billy Marchiafave

Colour: Neon pink

Flower: White Rose

Moodboard :

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

Late-night hunt

Summary: Quaritch follows Spider on a midnight hunt to get some fresh food for their squad and takes time to admire him.

.

.

The moss glowed under their feet as Spider and his captor treaded through the Pandorian jungle. It was quite the late hour, the sun long since hidden behind Polyphemus but the blonde insisted they could find good game. Begrudgingly, Miles agreed, but only on the condition that he’d keep Spider’s bow and blade until he has to use them.

Honestly, the recom was quite surprised by how well the boy oriented in the dark. Sure, Pandora was quite colourful at night, but it was easy to get misled and confused among the glowing lights, even with the enhanced alien vision. Spider was doing just fine though, finding footprints in the dirt and following them carefully.

When their ears caught rustling in the grass, Spider put the back of his hand to his mouth, the Na’vi sign for keeping quiet, and Quaritch crouched as they approached the creature.

It was a hexapede, or yerik, as Spider called them, but it was of purple color and with a longer snout. Quite the beauty, and Miles hoped it wasn’t poisonous.

“Eatin’ these ain’t gonna kill us, right?” He whispered.

Spider smirked, giggling. “I have to eat too, dumbass.”

Months ago, Quaritch would have cuffed the boy for such language but at this point he’d accepted it as part of his love-language, recognising the playful tone. He knew that after being absent for decade and a half, establishing a bunch of rules would make him look entitled, so instead the recom opted for easing Spider into their relationship slowly. Despite everything Miles said in that prison cell at Bridgehead, he did, in fact, want to be a family if Spider allowed it, but it would take time.

He was ready to wait though. The more he got to know Spider, the more he found that the wait would be worth it. He wanted to be more than a monster in the eyes of this snarky, brave kid.

The two of them went quiet, and the only sound that could be heard amongst the flora was hissing of Spider’s mask. He motioned towards the bow, and Miles handed it, along with two arrows.

Spider took a deep breath and stilled, a dangerous glint suddenly appearing in his eyes.

The hissing could no longer be heard as Spider aimed at the creature’s neck and pulled the string with ease, fixing his posture, his broad shoulders arching. Quaritch didn’t even notice how he too held his breath, looking at the young hunter.

Despite his pale skin, Spider blended in with the environment astonishingly well. It reminded Miles of bumblebees, creatures who have long since gone extinct in the wild on Earth, that shouldn’t be able to fly because of how small their wings were compared to the body and yet, according to a myth, they flew anyway, simply because they wholly believed they could.

Spider was a human, that is something he’d he never be able to erase or deny, but the way Pandora had seemingly accepted him as her own despite his physiology, and the way he carried himself at this very moment with a grace and deadliness of a predator mesmerised Miles.

Spider was a human in body, but committed so strongly to the ways of this moon that he willed himself into becoming a Na’vi in spirit. The recom could see it now, in the brief moment that the blonde let of the arrow, letting out a breath of relief as if he already knew it’d hit the target, as if his precision was unmatched.

And perhaps it was. Perhaps Spider really was one of them.

The yerik fell to the ground, choking and the boy hurried to approach it, stroking the creature’s head comfortingly. His brows knit as he pitied the animal for the pain it was being forced to experience, and outstretched his hand towards Quaritch expectantly. He took it as a sign to hand the boy his blade, a tiny, hand-crafted one, carved out of amber.

Spider began speaking in his native tongue. “Mawey, tsleng kewong..” He said, before plunging the knife into yerik’s chest. “Irayo…” He whispered, before the creature closed its eyes and seized its breathing. Miles deciphered that the last word had been a "thank you".

For a moment, the boy was silent, giving an animal the same respect that, back on earth, would only be afforded to a human. Quaritch recalled asking about this tradition weeks ago and Spider gave him the dirtiest look before explaining their reasoning. "In the eyes of our mother, every single one of her creatures is equal. If someone’s flesh is what feeds you, you have to be thankful that it was provided. Both to the mother and to its child".

It ticked Quaritch off how Spider called animals and even bugs "them", as if they were people, but after spending days on end at the mercy of Pandora, he began seeing a certain appeal in it. Being polite to the wildlife was probably the Na’vi way to ward off bad luck.

But Spider fully believed in providing said respect for all living things and not out of fear of them, but love. Miles must have been going insane, because despite it sounding like the most tree-hugging bullshit ever, he found it charming when done by the boy.

“Let’s head back.” Spider said quietly, before bracing to carry the yerik on his own back to camp. Miles beat him to it though, snatching the animal.

“Hey!”

“Nu uh, I’m not watching you overstrain yourself and break your spine. Lead the way.” He motioned forward with his head and Spider agreed, but not before giving him one of his iconic "moody teenager(tm)" eye-rolls. Miles however only smiled in response, which made the boy quickly avert his eyes as his cheeks blushed slightly at the positive attention.

Quaritch couldn’t help but chuckle at the adorable sight. Yep, he thought, as his heart sang, this little bastard is staying with me.

.

.

Author’s notes: a bit of fluff before I post a heavier drabble 🥰 this fic is based on this artwork.

[marichive]

𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 : 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Writing / roleplay prompts collected from the POV chapters of Jon Snow in A Clash of Kings , the second book of the ASOIAF saga. Feel free to adjust pronouns / etc. as needed.

tw: dark & mature themes, death, violence, suggestive / sexual content

❝ Have you been here all night? ❞

❝ You didn’t break your fast with us, and your bed hadn’t been slept in. ❞

❝ Is it morning? Down here there’s no way to know. ❞

❝ You’re a sweet fool. ❞

❝ You’ll miss that bed when we’re sleeping on the cold hard ground, I promise you. ❞

❝ If I had time to search . . . everything’s a jumble. I could set it all to order, though. ❞

❝ This vault is a treasure. ❞

❝ The books will still be here when we return. ❞

❝ You’ll be as safe as if you were back in your father’s castle. ❞

❝ I was never very safe in my father’s castle either. ❞

❝ The gods play cruel jests. ❞

❝ Someone has to help me keep him humble. ❞

❝ We’re all scared. We’d be fools if we weren’t. ❞

❝ There’s no shame in fear, my father told me, what matters is how we face it. ❞

❝ Some men want whores on the eve of battle, and some want gods. ❞

❝ The Seven have no power beyond the wall, but my gods will be waiting. ❞

❝ What do you make of them? ❞

❝ They smell of summer. ❞

❝ You’ve heard these tidings of your brother? ❞

❝ He will make a good king. ❞

❝ He was never the same after he put on that crown. ❞

❝ Some men are like swords, made for fighting. Hang them up and they go to rust. ❞

❝ May the gods go with you on the morrow. ❞

❝ More stairs. I hate stairs. ❞

❝ Put them here. I’ll have a look at them later. ❞

❝ The command should be mine. ❞

❝ I do not mean to send you after them and sit wondering how long I must wait before I give you up for lost as well. ❞

❝ Stop wasting my time. ❞

❝ Do I look frail? ❞

❝ Don’t cozen me. ❞

❝ Was this all you could find? ❞

❝ If you have something to say, say it. ❞

❝ A man must believe his eyes. ❞

❝ I have seen the dead walk. ❞

❝ “Give me a man for every vow I’ve seen broken and the Wall will never lack for defenders. ❞

❝ A lord’s one thing, a king’s another. ❞

❝ Tell me none of this troubles you, and I’ll name you a liar. ❞

❝ And if it did trouble me, what might I do? ❞

❝ I’d like to take an axe to the bloody thing myself. ❞

❝ My father believed no man could tell a lie in front of a heart tree. The Old Gods know when men are lying. ❞

❝ Much can change in a year’s time. ❞

❝ We might camp here tonight. ❞

❝ I was afraid that if I closed my eyes, I might never open them again. ❞

❝ Whatever enemy waits out here will not find us so easy to deal with. ❞

❝ We’ll find them, I promise you. ❞

❝ So long as he gives us a hot meal and a chance to dry our clothes, I’ll be happy. ❞

❝ There’s a cold smell to that one, there is. ❞

❝ The men are to mind their hands and speak to these women as little as need be. ❞

❝ Truth be told, I never once missed him. ❞

❝ These are bad times to dwell alone in the wild. ❞

❝ Better to die free than live a slave. ❞

❝ We’ve had no such troubles here. ❞

❝ I’ll thank you not to tell such evil tales under my roof. ❞

❝ I’m a godly man, and the gods keep me safe. ❞

❝ I could use a sharp new axe. ❞

❝ More beer, and be quick about it. ❞

❝ No trouble from the dead, but what of the living? ❞

❝ What of your king? ❞

❝ Any man lays a hand on my wife, he loses the hand. ❞

❝ He has the look of a Stark. ❞

❝ Man wants to bed a woman, he ought to take her to wife. ❞

❝ He won’t hurt you. ❞

❝ Are you one of his daughters? ❞

❝ That wolf’s looking at you hungry. ❞

❝ You’re scaring her. ❞

❝ I know all the names. ❞

❝ Save your breath. ❞

❝ Is he as savage as they say? ❞

❝ So there is magic beyond the Wall after all. ❞

❝ Just take me with you when you go, that’s all I ask. ❞

❝ I’ll be your wife, if you like. ❞

❝ He never gave you guest right, so you’re not bound to him. ❞

❝ It’s for the baby, I have to go. ❞

❝ I don’t even know your name. ❞

❝ Is it him who frightens you? ❞

❝ For the baby, not for me. ❞

❝ What color are the eyes? ❞

❝ Blue. As bright as blue stars. ❞

❝ Your babe would not be safe with us. ❞

❝ I do not choose the road I ride. ❞

❝ Keep a good edge on that sword of yours. We’ll be needing it soon enough. ❞

❝ I know what it is to be afraid. ❞

❝ She’s going to have a baby. ❞

❝ Have you taken leave of all your sense? ❞

❝ Why do I feel so ashamed? ❞

❝ She was frightened and wanted help. ❞

❝ The wide world is full of people wanting help. Would that some could find the courage to help themselves. ❞

❝ My father once told me that some men are not worth having. A bannerman who is brutal or unjust dishonors his liege lord as well as himself. ❞

❝ We could scarce hope for better. ❞

❝ What’s wrong with you? ❞

❝ Maybe there are ghosts here, the spirits of the First Men. This was their place, once. ❞

❝ How did you fare today? ❞

❝ I will not lose more of my men. ❞

❝ I mislike the man, but I do not think he lied to us in this. ❞

❝ Shall I bring you supper? ❞

❝ Did your wolf find game today? ❞

❝ That’s not for me to say. ❞

❝ I dread that as much as you, but we must admit the possibility. ❞

❝ Rest will serve me better. ❞

❝ Was the hunting so bad? ❞

❝ Dragonglass. What the maesters call obsidian. ❞

❝ Send two hundred wolves against ten thousand sheep and see what happens. ❞

❝ You have your father’s look. ❞

❝ I am no lordling. ❞

❝ It is said that a direwolf runs with you. ❞

❝ I had begun to fear for you. Did you meet with trouble? ❞

❝ There are worse ways to die than warm and drunk. ❞

❝ I’ll not be going there, I promise you. ❞

❝ I was not meant to hear that. ❞

❝ It was just empty talk. ❞

❝ They are cold and afraid; we all are. ❞

❝ The unseen enemy is always the most fearsome. ❞

❝ It must have been buried for a reason. ❞

❝ What is you will in this? ❞

❝ Fire is life up here, but it can be death as well. ❞

❝ No better time to start than now. ❞

❝ I wish I had a tenth part of his courage. ❞

❝ Do you have a name? ❞

❝ You are my captive. ❞

❝ I never knew my mother. ❞

❝ I want to hear this tale of yours. ❞

❝ A steel kiss will keep her quiet. ❞

❝ She yielded herself to me. ❞

❝ You must do what needs to be done. ❞

❝ You don’t need to do it. ❞

❝ Aren’t you afraid? ❞

❝ Strike hard and true, or I’ll come back and haunt you. ❞

❝ I can’t stay brave forever. ❞

❝ You never asked me how it went. With the girl. ❞

❝ They have no discipline. ❞

❝ You know? ❞

❝ Tell me why you spared her. ❞

❝ I know she was an enemy, but there was no evil in her. ❞

❝ To lead a man you must know them. ❞

❝ You ought to be sleeping. ❞

❝ I like it in the dark. ❞

❝ It’s always pretty women in my dreams. Would that I dreamed more often. ❞

❝ Dead men walk and the trees have eyes again. Why should we balk at wargs and giants? ❞

❝ Does this mean my dreams are true as well? ❞

❝ He can keep his mammoths, I want my women. ❞

❝ I want to see them with my own eyes. ❞

❝ Eagles have sharper eyes than men. ❞

❝ It will be good to feel warm again, if only for a little while. ❞

❝ Sometimes a man forgets how pretty a fire can be. ❞

❝ Did he ever love a maid or have a wedding? ❞

❝ He has a different part to play. ❞

❝ Do you remember the words of your vow? ❞

❝ I am not afraid to die. ❞

❝ What do you mean? ❞

❝ If we are taken, you must yield. ❞

❝ No. Never. I won’t. ❞

❝ You will. I command it of you. ❞

❝ You must not balk, whatever is asked of you. ❞

❝ Do as they bid you, but in your heart, remember who and what you are. ❞

❝ I do not want to play the oathbreaker, even for a good reason. ❞

❝ I’ll do whatever you ask. ❞

[jupiterswasphouse]

BUGSNAX - A REVIEW

A few days ago, I fully finished and 100% completed this game, and I'm very happy to have finally done so! Here are my thoughts, under the cut! (Skip to the end if you just want a quick overview of each point)

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As evidenced by the fact I completed the game, I enjoyed Bugsnax a lot! Which I'm happy to be able to say upon playing it myself after having watched other people (Namely Snapcube, all the way back in 2021) play it in the past. It's a nice change of pace from the other kinds of games I've played in recent times, and a type of game I can't say off the top of my head that I've really experienced before. I've played my share of creature collectors but those were mostly RPGs, like the Pokémon games, whereas Bugsnax takes the concept into a full 3D space where you don't exactly battle the Bugsnax but, rather, you trap them!

Forgive the comparison I'm about to make but it's almost like you're pranking the wildlife of this island, tricking them in various ways to get them into your backpack. It starts off as simple as just waiting for Bugsnax to wander into your trap, and for a handful of species it stays that way, but with the wide variety of them available to you and which you're expected to catch, it becomes more complicated very quickly! The game can become slightly repetitive at points, especially having to refight bosses for 100% completion, but they vary things up enough with tools and specific catching conditions that it never became boring for me. I'd say that Bugsnax is almost a puzzle game in that way, trying to figure out what combination of things catches what Bugsnax. Although some of said 'capturing puzzles' are easy to cheese, or come up with multiple solutions for.

Despite that, though, Bugsnax can be a challenge for the brain! Like any good puzzle, the solution can be difficult to piece together right away at times, making for engaging gameplay that keeps you thinking. That's a great thing, as it's really the only challenge there is in the game. Bugsnax does not have a fail state nor any lives to lose, no matter how much the aggressive Bugsnax try and no matter how many times you light yourself on fire in the middle of Snaxburg. Bugsnax simply isn't a very difficult meal to swallow! Which isn't a bad thing.

As a side note on the gameplay too, the game does keep you busy with a multitude of main quests, side quests, and letter quests, giving you many reasons to want to catch all of these Bugsnax!

Speaking of the titular Bugsnax, though, they're a very interesting bunch! With 112 of them to find (after the release of the free DLC), the variety of designs on display is wonderfully creative and charming. Yes, some of the designs are reused and retextured, but that's perfectly acceptable and to be expected when you're capable of transforming almost every NPC using said Bugsnax!

They're certainly interesting to observe and speculate on how they came to be! They're not anything that could exist in our world, but that's kind of the point! They do, however, interact with each other in some ways you might expect from wild beasts, fighting with each other and accidentally running into each other on occasion. Bunger, Spuddy (Beetle-like Bugsnax), Preying Picantis (A mantis-like Bugsnak), and Scoopy Banoopy (A giant water bug-like Bugsnak) being as aggressive as they are, while played up for gameplay purposes, does mirror how strong and combative these insects are in the real world! Although, you never see these Bugsnax eat each other, nor at all apart from when you specifically toss sauce at them, making it unclear how they survive apart from eating said sauce, even though the ending goes some way into explaining that, to an extent. Even still, not much that truly needs to be explained goes unexplained when it comes to them

Of course, the creativity and good design of the Bugsnax would mean nothing without an equally charming world and set of colorful characters to go along with them! The game does not disappoint there either, making for quite the feast for the eyes. The biomes are lovely, and environmentally tell you quite a bit about the history of the island, from the crashed ship on the beach of Boiling Bay to the cave scrawlings of Garden Grove and the clear existence of a long gone civilization in Scorched Gorge and the isle of Broken Tooth! Meanwhile, the NPCs, the Grumpuses, have wonderfully charming designs, resembling muppets to an extent, all distinct and fun designs but still simple enough to fit in with the impressive mechanic of 'Snakification' without being too disturbing... Most of the time

Heads up! The next section goes into SPOILER TERRITORY, if you want to save the story for when you play it yourself, skip to the next chunk of bold text

When it comes to the story that surrounds all of the Grumpuses, it continues to be quite the charming game, with its comedic flair, colorful personalities, and sweet personal moments. However, it's not a conflictless experience (Nor should it have been!), with many characters fighting and having problems that range from Wiggle being afraid of being a one-hit-wonder and struggling to create her next masterpiece, to Snorpy struggling to communicate his feelings to Chandlo while Chandlo worries about the unhealthy amount of stress that Snorpy is going through, to Beffica being unable to hold a friendship because of her own actions and being afraid that she won't be able to ever have anyone close to her. It doesn't pull its punches, especially once you get around to helping them with some of these issues in the sidequests!

The biggest issue that requires being solved however is the driving force of the game, getting everyone back to Snaxburg, and especially the adventurer who invited you to the island in the first place, Elizabert. The search for Elizabert takes essentially the whole game, searching for clues and interviewing Grumpuses, watching tapes that display the relationship of Elizabert and her girlfriend/wife (unclear whether or not they're married), doctor Eggabell.

This search concludes in quite possibly the most unsettling muppet body horror way it could have, with Bugsnax being revealed to be parasites, composing essentially the entire underground of the island, with Elizabert herself being turned into a giant but somehow still sentient and sapient beast made of multiple different legendary Bugsnax, among other species! and the final sequence of the game is spent essentially killing Bugsnax in a brutal saucy massacre across Snaxburg before making your escape.

Now, does this make Bugsnax one of those "Oops, it's a horror game actually!" games? Not in the slightest. This is not as overtly horrifying and gorey as something like Doki Doki Literature Club, although it is possible to lose Grumpuses to the influence of the island in the final sequence if you play your cards wrong, this is more like an Undertale situation in the sense that the game is mostly perfectly fine but has some disturbing undertones and moments! It is a super unexpected moment but I like it, and the ending provides a very satisfying resolution to everyone's problems while still leaving enough questions about the island for a Bugsnax 2

[END SPOILERS]

The game is also very well scored with a mostly electronic sound track that fits the charming and mostly relaxing atmosphere of the game! Seth Parker's smooth synths filling the space perfectly between Grumpus dialogue and Bugsnax yelling out their names Pokémon style, with an adorable credits theme done by Kero Kero Bonito, which fits in perfectly with the rest of the music.

Now, in terms of game stability, having played after patches, I'd say this game is stable enough for the average player, some things being a bit easy to break for people who are looking to do so, with very few glitches being detrimental to the experience. I did have some Bugsnax get stuck or disappear, but it wasn't enough to really effect things much given there are a couple ways to respawn them (sleeping, leaving the area and coming back).

One funny thing did happen to me though, and it was my fault entirely! I saw the broken bridge in Scorched Gorge and was like "Hmmm, I bet I could get across that when they don't want me too" and I did! Then the game autosaved and I had accidentally set several flags in the game skipping Snorpy and Chandlo's quests. I had to find the save file and manually edit it so that I could fix my hubris and unskip the quests! Which was thankfully not very hard to do, and I got to experience those quests without issue.

Now, finally, what would I add to a Bugsnax 2? Well the obvious answer for me would be some form of wasp Bugsnak, I just want more representation of my favorite guys!! But for a bigger suggestion, I'd say that there are tons of different real world bug features and behaviors that could make for interesting gameplay elements and designs! With mimicry, pollination structure building, symbiotic relationships, resource gathering, pheromone communication, multiple stages of life, etc etc. I'd just really like to see what the Bugsnax team can do with things like these! Even down to more species or family specific things!

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All in all,

Gameplay: Fairly unique! Can be repetitive at times but stays varied and interesting enough to be engaging for most players.

Difficulty: Catching Bugsnax can be challenging but it's still fairly easy, with very little punishment for failure outside of the very end.

Graphics/Design: Extremely charming with varied Bugsnax and cute NPCs that fit with the biome they're in very well, providing a lovely atmosphere to the game, even if Snakification can make things clash at times.

Story/Lore: Very good, keeping you interested in the world and characters of the game, and at times delving into more serious, personal topics and problems, as well as setting up a world that shows plenty of its history, while leaving some questions to be answered

Soundtrack: Rather smooth, synths filling the space in nicely and not leaving much awkward silence, with a very good guest track

Stability: Rarely detrimental, not giving the player any major issues, while still being breakable if one were to try to do so

Completion Time: 29 hours

Overall: Recommended