#one of the best moments of all of Disenchanted

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Giselle: it's turning me into a wicked stepmother!

Pip: what? That's ridiculous

Giselle:

Pip: oh no yeah I can totally see it

Giselle:

[occamstfs]

Wouldn't It Be Funny?

Back again with a longer military tf, Hope you enjoy! - Occam

Curtis and Joseph were bored out of their minds. After growing disenchanted with university life the two were well into a gap year and have been finding progressively less stimulating ways to waste away their time. Without assignments piling up and biweekly mandatory lectures they were firmly adrift as the days of the week blur together. Curtis continues scrolling on his phone while Joseph, phone ever-so-recently dead, tries to think of anything to do while it charges back up.

“Wait! I think my brother left a stash of beer last time he visited!” Curtis looks up and squints at his friend, “the best thing you think we could be doing right now is day drinking alcohol your brother left here months ago?” Joseph makes a motion inviting Curtis to produce a better idea which goes unanswered as he rolls his eyes and gets up to accompany Joseph on this ignoble quest.

Joseph leads Curtis to the hall closet where he had apparently thrown everything his brother, Nick, had left after staying over for a couple weeks. There is some deodorant and other toiletries scattered about although the floor, first and foremost however, what catches Curtis’ eye is an army uniform laying in a heap, in the corner of the closet. There is just something about it. Any time he starts to move his attention away from it another question pops into his mind requiring a deeper inspection of the jacket. He wonders how durable the uniform actually is? It looks as if it's never been worn though he knows that Nick has certainly done some training in it. He simply must have a closer look.

Before he could act on that, the jacket he so craved was chucked at him as Joseph found his bottled quarry underneath. “Score! It’s almost full too, we can have two each and rock, paper, scissors over the last one.” Joseph heads to the kitchen well on his way to some palatable lukewarm beers as he continues to chat busily at Curtis. His roommate doesn’t hear him however as the only thing on his mind is the scratchy jacket in his arms. 

He almost blushes looking down and feeling it in his arms, quite a bit heavier than he thought it would be. Surely he should toss it back with the rest of Nick’s things but it’s such a nice jacket. Quite a shame it's gone so long just sitting in their unworn. Maybe he’d just toss it on as a prank. Yeah Joseph would love that, seeing his friend in this massive jacket. His body acts quicker than his mind though, swiftly putting it on, pulling the hem down to straighten it out and pulling the sleeves up so you can just see his hands out the end.

Curtis hears his friend opening bottles in the kitchen and grins as he pictures the look on Joseph’s face as he sees him wearing this. He zips it up and struggles to get wrinkles out of the pockets before the grand reveal. No reason to not try and look legit. For it to really be funny it needs to look good. As soon as the thought that this would be funny enters his mind however he has a sharp headache and groans. No longer able to recall the incongruity of the situation as he steps out to see his friend.

Rounding the corner Curtis quickly starts what is meant to be a comedically poor salute but instead executes one with the precision of a machine. This only heightens the comedy of it all from where Joseph is standing however, halfway through a bottle of beer he chokes and spits up the beer all over the counter. He takes a moment to recover from this waste of beer before looking up once more and laughing so hard he can’t stand up straight.

Curtis in turn clenches his fist hard enough to pop a joint as he feels aggressively defensive. Why is his friend laughing at him. His back tenses with more effort than he has sustained in months, and more strength then he has wielded in a lifetime, as he cannot let this slight go unreciprocated. “What’s so funny, Kid.” Joseph looks up to see Curtis with an expression of rage more genuine than any emotion he had seen of his friend in months. It is immediately met with a flinch and a recoil as Joseph can’t bring himself to his friends’ burning gaze, “Jesus Curtis is everything alright? I thought you were doing a joke?”

A Joke? Curtis’ neck spasms breaking him out of his statuesque posture and upon rubbing a neck more muscular than he thought possible, he remembers, of course he was doing a joke! Why else would he be wearing Nick's Jacket! Smiling as he remembers how good it landed, he heads over to his friend, “Sweet you already opened a bottle for me! What’s the move now, did you want to game?” 

Joseph, shell-shocked by this return to spirits, assumes that the whole thing was now some shit joke, hands his friend a beer and heads to set up his PS5, “sure whatever dude, can you get the lights?” Which Curtis quickly does, not noticing his arms definitively stretching much further out of the jacket than they should. Waiting for his friend to finish the setup Curtis paces behind the couch, each step louder than the last as he grows less careful of his footing and he continues to ever so slightly grow into this jacket.

“Can you chill dude?” 

“Oh! Sorry did-”  

“And why are you still wearing my brother’s jacket!”

“Your brothers-” Curtis pauses to look at the name stitched onto his chest and is also shocked that he’s wearing Nick’s jacket though decidedly not for the same reason that Joseph assumed. “Woah sorry kid? I guess I was cold? Do you want me to throw it back in the closet?”

“Just take it off dude! And stop calling me kid,” puffing as he sits back on the couch and starts to play some game Curtis feels like he should recognize before taking off the jacket and heading to put it in the closet. He scratches at his chin as he tries to work out what feels so off right now. Hanging up Nick’s jacket, sure not to leave any creases, he remembers that he’ll probably need to shave soon so he doesn’t get a mark at the next inspection, his rougher hands feeling around his sharper jaw to check the damage.

Returning to the living room he trips over what he assumes is his own feet but is embarrassed to find; Ah! It’s his jacket! Thank god he let his discipline slack here and not back at base. He picks it up as Joseph turns around hearing the stumble and begins to hurry him back before instead asking, “did you do something with your hair?” To which Curtis tilts his head like a dog before Joseph shouts once more, “Dude! Are you wearing my brother’s socks!?”

“No of course not they would never fit.” He says looking down to see the same army green socks he always wears, not Nick’s. “Well my feet do seem larger than I thought they were.” continuing as he bends down to inspect his feet, Joseph scrambles over to do similarly, though neither notices as they slowly inch even larger across the carpet. Instead Joseph is immediately thrown for a loop hearing a loud groan from his friend as he stands back up. Now almost a head taller than he was before bending down.

“Fuck dude you’re so tall!” Joseph reaches up to put his hands on his friend’s shoulders. Curtis was always taller, a fact Joseph was already none too pleased with, but this was ridiculous. He almost has to strain and as he does finally get his arms up he immediately finds thick traps under his friend’s strained shirt, “Asshole! Have you been working out without me!?” 

“Of course not. When would I? Or who would I even-”

“I mean, with recruiters right?” Joseph offers forth without the thought even consciously entering his mind. It made no sense to him but it was true. Suddenly it's as if some form of static fills the minds of both the men, a warm static buzzes through Curtis’ mind and body as he starts to unconsciously put the newly reclaimed uniform back on himself. Joseph experiences something far harsher in his own mind, the static is unbearably cold and punishing. He claws at his head, no longer able to hold two ideas of who Curtis is in his mind. And it is clear which reality is prevailing as Curtis slides his thicker arms into the jacket, flexing to make sure his uniform is fitting just right.

As he begins to zip up the jacket his pecs begin to make themselves well more than apparent. His decidedly larger nipples poking out as the apparently nylon shirt hugs his defined chest and he struggles to get the zipper closed without being uncomfortably tight on his pecs before deciding to just leave it unzipped for now. “Why would I be working with recruiters, lil’ dude?” He looks confused at his friend, or his friend’s little brother? Before smirking and seizing the chance, “If anything you’re the one who should be working with them, gotta be bigger than that to join up with us!”  He puts a hand on Joseph’s head messing with his hair, jolting Joseph back to this new reality.

“Curtis! Do you not think something weird is happening here!”

“Oh? Did your brother not tell you I go by Curt?”

“My brother? Fuck dude! It’s his jacket! You’re wearing his jacket again!”

“Ah no lil’ dude this one here is mine, check it!”

Joseph looks at the clear name tag on his chest clear as day with Curt’s last name on it, not noticing as he seamlessly uses Curt’s apparent preferred name. Instead he stares at a symbol over the center of Curt’s chest clearly also different than the one on his brother’s uniform. Curt smirks as he points to it himself, “Impressed kid? I’m already a Private First Class, not too hard to outpace Nick though. I mean love the guy but come on! Show some hustle! We enlisted together for a reason dude!”

Suddenly Joseph feels that this statement was a bridge too far. He feels a pit in his chest as he feels he has just lost something greater than he can understand going to slap the exemplar of a man in front of him, “Snap out of it!” Before even nearing a strike however his wrist is snatched out of the air and held fast above his head. Curt stares daggers into Joseph at this sign of aggression, this challenge. His eyes darken as his stubble grows out even more. Joseph feels Curt’s grip grow even darker watching as the hair on his arms darkens spreading out from the sleeves. He brings in Nick’s little bro closer to his face as his warm, heaving breaths distract Joseph from the pain in his upheld wrist before he lets go and guffaws, “You’ve gotta be quicker than that kid if you want to enlist with us! Where is your brother anyway? ‘S why I came over right?”

Joseph is perplexed as Curt lets him go, also unsure as to why this mammoth of a man is in his living room. They are quickly assuaged as Curt gets a text from Nick. “Oh you need a ride did ya kid? No problem! He just wants you to bring over the jacket he left over here and we’ll head on out.” Curt struggles to shove his feet in his combat shoes before finding himself distracted as the shoes push out to fit his ever larger feet.

Joseph’s mind remains a battlefield but it is clear which side is soon to rout as he heads to the closet where he just wanted to grab some beer. Inside he finds not only his brother's jacket, expertly hung, but a second one that looks almost supernaturally comfortable. He pauses before reaching out, feeling an existential aversion to the jacket hanging in his closet. before there’s a brisk breeze through the house and he shivers. Joseph quickly grabs his brothers and slides into the latter jacket, a tad too big but the world around him feels much warmer now that he has it on.

After suiting up Joseph quickly rushes back to his brother’s friend, quite wanting to make a good impression on the private first class. As he rushes his footsteps quickly grow in volume as his tennis shoes thicken into pristine combat shoes and grow far wider as his feet race to keep up, filling their increased space. Barely avoiding tripping over his now massive feet, he sees that Curt is of course not a private at all but his Corporal, as he freezes and salutes. His biceps straining his sleeves as his stained white shirt begins to slowly make room for the soldier’s expanding muscle. “At ease Joe, Let’s go ahead and head on out.”

Curt leads Joe out to his lifted truck and has him get in before loading a few more things into the bed of his truck. There is a load of clearly dirty towels in the back seat as Curt clearly has an issue bringing in laundry after his workouts. Although he doesn’t make it a habit of driving recruits so it’s not usually an issue. Sitting in the musky cabin does immediately cause issues for Joe however, as he puts the seatbelt on he feels his body start to expand in every direction it can. His pecs push against both his shirt and the seatbelt. He pulls his tight shirt down, straining it to the brim as he feels a sudden itch in his crotch. His hand already down there and finding it impossible to bring his attention anywhere else he sees his bulge push out, almost doubling in size as he scratches his increasingly overgrown pubes. He struggles to cover the impossible to miss bulge forcing his brother’s jacket over his crotch, the added pressure and warmth overwhelms him as Curt notices from outside

Curt watches as his new recruit’s shoulders broaden and his jaw widens. He slightly shifts in his seat, almost gyrating, running the hand not shoved in his pants through his hair, leaving behind a respectable high and tight demanded of any respectable recruit.

Curt slowly opens the door giving the recruit the briefest of chances to at least perform decency. Immediately wrenching the hand from his pants to salute, shouting “Sir!” towards his Corporal, eyes growing deathly serious as he touches a visibly sweat covered hand to his brow. Curt’s eyes glint as he notices the action flung Nick’s jacket off and exposed Joe’s still expanding bulge and unzipped pants. The two feel a hunger starting to grow in their chests as Curt hops into the driver's seat. Adjusting his rear view as he juts up once more in height, his jacket making it apparent to all he is now a sergeant, Curt begins to drive off towards the base. 

Curt puts his hand on Joe’s inner thigh, overstimulating the private who roughly clenches his jaw trying to keep it together. He feels pre start to soak through Joe’s fatigues as he starts to rub his thigh. Grunting as he too feels a powerful stirring in his crotch, his cock forcing itself further down his leg. “Wouldn’t want to stop at my place first, would ya’ Joe?” Joe stares at the sergeant ahead of him with a lust deeper than the can understand, and a hunger to grow even larger. Curt chuckles, “gotta release some of this energy before we break the new to Nick anyway.” He turns his car and begins to race towards his apartment on the base. 

As the heat in the car begins to fog up the windows the two men could not remember anything besides who they were since joining the army. After an anything but quick fuck, they would get back to work on the base. Curt distracts himself as he commands his troops and Joe gets ready for his promotion ceremony, ready to rub it in his brother’s face that he was already going to be higher ranked. The two follow orders flawlessly as they always have, performing their duties with rigor. The only thing more present on their minds than dedication to their fellow soldiers being the excitement for the next time they are to fuck.

[dyketubbo]

tbh for me the thing about cbeeduo is that its so like. how am i supposed to look at this dynamic and not feel insane for the rest of my life. like going along w the crushing during nlm hc ranboo fell in love w tubbo at his WORST. they saw some child president who was probably on illegal substances like half of the time with a tired face and forced grin as he got through politics he didnt understand and got insults hurled at him, comparing him to an abusive dictator as he tried to solve a trolley problem (his best friend was on one line and his country was on the other and of course he chooses majority rule but the trolley loops back around anyways and all he did was delay the inevitable) and ranboo saw some 16yr old on his last leg going on about how he felt like he was going to die soon (and hes too too close to the cliffs edge but hes grinning and its like hes really hoping death is a happy ending) and everyone was leaving him and he didnt want all this and ranboo goes follow my voice i wont leave im sorry and they fall in love with whatever virtues there are left in tubbo and decide that they would keep trying to do right by him

and then, inevitably, ranboo messes up and betrays tubbo and tubbos voice shudders and ranboo never wants to see that broken expression of disbelief again so he fights for a country even though hes been disenchanted with it for a while and hes never liked picking sides anyways (but this is tubbo, and if hes choosing tubbo its okay because he cant hurt tubbo again) and of course it falls anyways and tubbo makes a new home and tubbo makes nukes and tubbo makes a plan and then tubbo is on his knees and an axe is held to his neck and ranboo barely gets a glimpse before things are moving forward and tubbo is pressed to her side calling them minutes man again

the marriage starts out as a joke, tubbos never been rich and ranboo only gets richer and tubbo pretends its for tax benefits, hes just a golddigger, because right now its a joke and thats all hes letting it be. but then hes laughing like normal but it feels different and hes looking at the family portrait of the two and michael and hes thinking about bunk beds and he gets a mansion because hes in love at this point because ranboo was there during his worst moments and even as tubbos getting (relatively) better ranboos still there and of course tubbo forgives him because when he met ranboo they reminded him painfully of himself and tubbo cant let ranboo be like him so he falls in love with them instead and if ranboos going to stick by him tubbos going to try and be someone good to stick by

but of course ranboo finds bad influences anyways and tommy is back but different and everythings different and ranboo wont move in so every few days its just him and michael (and god, he shouldnt be a parent at 17, what is he doing with his life? he should have been dead by now) and he tries so so hard to be good for michael and good for ranboo and better for tommy and he isnt really good to himself but thats fine and ranboo is so much better than he'll ever be and michael adores him and tubbo adores him and its fine that the mansion is collecting dust and its fine that ranboo lives by tubbos executioner and the people who helped destroy his country and its fine that he doesnt really know who ranboo is at all outside of his kind husband that was there for him at his worse and its fine that ranboo doesnt really know who tubbo is outside of someone who has been through a lot and needs a good break and its fine that theyre keeping secrets its fine that they never really talk about their problems (its fine that its been months and ranboo still hasnt moved in)

and then they have their first disagreement and tubbo tries to make up for it and it works until they have their first argument and ranboo tries to make up for it but he has to make a point too and they hardly get to talk about it before suddenly time has passed and

and ranboos dead and tubbos a widow and single father at 18 and his (their) son got kidnapped and hes making friends with murderers and hes not sure how to feel about his husbands ghost (and ranboo is so so happy to be dead and ranboo is in limbo alone and tubbo doesnt know how any of this works) so he moves on and his anger gets the best of him and he pushes someone off a bridge and he moves on and he isnt getting better and he moves on and nothings getting better and he moves on and because the dream smp is at its core not that great pretty often theres no closure to any of this ever tubbo dies and loses all his memories ranboos forever a ghost and takes his son elsewhere and thats it the end youre just meant to be normal about all this now. they never learned how to truly trust each other and they were so so in love and wanted to be good for each other but never talked about their problems and now they just Dont Get To. The End !

[di-writes-stuff]

So It Goes…

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Chapter 1

A/N: This Barbie can’t stop thinking about Glen Powell!

TW: Not much, cursing, alcohol, suggestive content. Not quite smut, but close.

It's been a long time since you've been human. Since you've strayed from the well honed weapon you've been so meticulously trained to become. Always ready for the next order, the next mission, ready to die. It's never been more apparent than when you picked up the phone, heard that cold, stern voice on the other end.

"You've been called back to Top Gun."

The readiness with which you accept the order would scare you if it hadn't become so commonplace the second you signed on the dotted line. Married yourself to a military that couldn't care less if you live or die.

After all, there's always gonna be cocky youths from shitty homes eager to prove themselves. Be great, be something for the first time in their life.

You just actually managed to do it. Become great. Incredible, really. One of the most talented pilots in the Navy. So good, in fact, that you're neck and neck with the other best pilot in the Navy.

Jake fucking Seresin.

It's not as if you don't like him. He's horribly arrogant, and quite possibly the most insufferably conceited person you've ever met.

But, he's Jake. And as humiliating, practically degrading as it is, he worked on you. Stupidly well. The grins he'd send your way anytime you dared look at him. The lame one liners he'd try, the ones that'd make you smile even as you gave him endless amounts of shit for it.

The genuine moments, few and far between, when the facade dropped, when he was a person rather than a caricature.

A person who wanted you.

You'd convinced yourself it was just sexual later.

You'd reveled in the idea that it wasn't in the moment.

But it wouldn't work. It couldn't work. Not when your career hung in the balance. The one thing you'd ever built for yourself. The one thing you'd be risking to be with him. It'd be fraternization.

Forbidden.

And really, you couldn't pass it off as just sex, no matter how hard you tried. Not with the way he'd looked at you the first and last time you ever woke up in his bed. And so it ended.

Now you just have to hope to God he won't be there to start it up again.

……………………………………………………………………………………

The steps up to the Hard Deck are almost more familiar than your house's porch at this point. The creaky, aged wood beneath your boots, bowing under your weight after too many years of use.

As you walk in, the atmosphere is busy, but not uncomfortably so. Music floating from a jukebox, Penny at the bar ringing the bell to signal someone breaking one of her beloved rules. And of course, at the back of the bar bent over a pool table.

Jake.

The rest of your squadron is there too, but you couldn't care less. Not when like magnets clicking together, his emerald eyes flash up to meet yours, a grin appearing on his face as he stands up straight, propping his cue against the table.

Damn, he looks good. After years in the military, the whole "men in uniform" thing had become lost on you. Disenchanted. But...wow. His shirt is adorned with different service ribbons, all indicators of his numerous achievements.

You're even with him, something you're sure he'll manage to gripe about later.

"Vulture." He greets you with the call-sign he coined as he walks over, a smirk plastered on his face when he stops in front of you. You still remember how proud he'd been when he came up with that.

He was beside you at this very bar, leaning in as he explained it to Penny like a kid showing off a toy. "If she's in the sky, something's dead below." It was cool, you'd admit. Not to his face, of course.

"Hangman." You respond, trying to keep your voice even, dry, safe, despite the smile fighting its way onto your face.

He gives you an amused look, leaning against the wall beside you and staring down at you, his eyes dancing across your face like they can't pick a feature to focus on. "You know, sweetheart, you could muster up a little more enthusiasm."

You roll your eyes at the pet name, trying to come off annoyed. Yet, the smile wins over, spreading across your face as you look up at him. "Give me a reason to." You quip back, falling into a pattern with him as simple as breathing.

"We're friends, aren't we?" He asks, but he knows that's putting it simply. Overly simply. The layers to your relationship are innumerable, each different, half of them contradicting each other. Friends, co-workers, competitors... and something more. Something you're not sure there's a word for.

You're not willing to use the one that seems to fit. Four letters and dangerous.

"Is that what we're calling it?" You ask before you process that you shouldn't. It's risky to even skirt the subject. Openly discuss what you're both already painfully aware of. Because he'll see it as a green light. A gleaming sign that tells him he has a shot with you.

And that, more than anything, that's what he wants. What he's wanted since he met you.

"Bending the rules?" He asks cockily, ready to swoop in, widen the gray area that you just brought up.

"No." You answer sternly, feeling like a teacher reprimanding your rowdiest student. You walk past him, hoping he doesn't follow. Denying him gets exhausting, especially when deep you, you don't want to.

He trails after you quickly, knowing you're heading to the bar before you even make the turn.

“You know, I’m more stubborn than you are.” He says as he slides into the seat next to you, each move he makes smooth, practiced, even. “I’ll wear you down.” He adds, making you snort.

“Well, since you haven’t yet…” You trail off, knowing exactly what’s coming next. You walked into it, and a small part of you did it on purpose. For the reminder. The flashback to that perfect, drunken night.

You choose not to dwell on the morning that followed.

“Didn’t I?” He asks, lowering his voice, a smirk on his lips that makes shivers run down your spine. You sigh, rolling your eyes.

“That doesn’t count.” You answer just as quietly, stiffening up a little as he leans in even closer to hear.

He just smiles, leaning back a little, shockingly trying not to draw too much attention. “No take-backs, doll.” Every word, every response from his mouth is like he’s reading from a script. Perfectly delivered, perfectly timed.

Perfect.

It’s getting hard to remember why you won’t just give in.

“You’d never let me forget it, anyway.” You grumble back, propping your chin in your hand and making certain not to look at him, not to get caught in those green eyes like a fly in a web.

He scoffs, feigning offense as he leans against the bar top, trying to get you to look at him. And since you can only be strong so long, you give him what he wants. A dazzling smile spreads across his face when you turn to him, the tiniest glimpse of a matching one on yours. “Now why would you want to? You certainly seemed to enjoy yourself.” He’s got a horribly smug look on his face as he watches your eyes widen at the brazen volume he’s speaking at.

“Piss off.” You quip back with no real anger, looking away pointedly to hide the amused smirk on your face, the blush coating your cheeks as you recall that night.

His mouth right by your ear, hot breath fanning over your shoulder as he interlaced your hands, holding you firm as he whispered softly to you.

“That’s it, baby. Let me hear ya.”

A soft kiss to your neck, then a searing one pressed to your parted lips.

“Doing so good for me. Just like that.”

The way his hands roamed over every inch of your body, carding through your hair, pulling your head back and giving him easy access to the sensitive skin of your neck. Then to your waist, like an anchor as a dent began to form where the bed frame was slamming against the wall. Your hips next, his hands staking their claim before his mouth, pressing kisses to each, slowly sinking lower down the length of your body, closer to-

You snap out of it as, similarly to then, his voice sounds close to your ear, his southern drawl more apparent the lower his voice goes.

“Reminiscing?” He asks, and you can practically hear the shit eating grin on his face. You look back to him, your faces impossibly close as he looks down at you, something more than pride glimmering in his eyes.

There’s no point in lying to him, he already knows he’s right. Besides, you’re sure he’s looked back on that night just as much as you have. Barracks get lonely, after all.

“This can’t happen again.” You say softly, hating how serious you have to be. Despising the way his face falls ever so slightly. A fracture in the act. A display of humanity, of proof that there’s something real, something tangible to this game you two play.

“We could make it work.“ He says, and the certainty in his voice isn’t just a byproduct of his ego. No, he really, truly believes it.

God, you wish you could too.

You sigh, the air around you suddenly feeling heavy. “No, we can’t.” Your voice is weak, like you’re begging him to prove you wrong. “We’re colleagues. That’s it.” You say with a finality you hate.

He just nods along, watching as you flag down Penny, ordering a drink. He quickly pulls a couple crumpled bills from his pocket, sliding them across the counter, his eyes locked on yours all the while.

“We’ve never just been colleagues, darlin’.” He says confidently. And he’s right.

You can’t take back what you did, and you certainly can’t change how you feel.

“Just…don’t make this harder than it has to be.” You say as you slide off the stool, knowing if you stay here longer, let his words make you dizzier than any liquor here, you’ll wake up in a bed that isn’t your own, and he’ll have won.

The nod he gives you says yes, but the look in his eyes speaks nothing but the truth.

The two of you could never be easy.

[stephschoices]

I LOVE YOUR BLOG! can I ask you some questions?

hope you don't mind the sheer mass of details. - Which 5 interactive fictions are you most looking forward to have an update? demo out already - Which 5 interactive fictions are you most looking forward to have a demo out? no demo yet - Which 5 interactive fictions are you all time favorites? fully published - Which 5 love interests are your all time favorites? a) from published games, b) from wips - Which 5 mcs are your favorites? they don't even have to be from any of the interactive fiction above - Which 3 tropes are your absolute favorites that you would always go for? - If you had to pick between your favorite love interests, which would you: marry, kiss, smash, kill? - what kind of interactive fiction was not written yet but you hope somebody will write it one day?

Now more personal, again, only if it is ok for you.

- your favorite food - your favorite (printed) book - your favorite love interest from a video game - which celebrity would you like to meet if it could be absolutely anybody?

thank you for hearing me out steph - hope your day is beautiful

Thank you for all the questions lol 😂 sorry it took me a while to answer!

This is gonna be long so under the cut!

Which 5 interactive fictions are you most looking forward to have an update? demo out already

@theunseelieif

@fallenlightsif

@esper-game

@sekhmetswrath-if

@unwilling-souls-if

Which 5 interactive fictions are you most looking forward to have a demo out? no demo yet

@pavedinashes-if

@inkandlaces-if

@dereliction-if

@ellawrites-if (whisper in the mist)

@indeepertidesif

Which 5 interactive fictions are you all time favorites? fully published

i dont read many fully published ifs so if i had to choose some that have at least one fully finished book-

@barbwritesstuff (blood moon)

when the night comes

@the-passenger-if

@seraphinitegames (wayhaven chronicles)

@gb-patch (our life now & forever)

Which 5 love interests are your all time favorites? a) from published games, b) from wips

finished:

cove (@gb-patch - our life now & forever)

vadeyn (@underbliss - ebon light)

marco (@barbwritesstuff - blood moon)

nate (@seraphinitegames - wayhaven chronicles)

hadrian (@anathemafiction - the golden rose)

wips:

morgan (@theunseelieif)

pepe (@inkandlaces-if)

xander (@unwilling-souls-if)

tie between blade & red (@shepherds-of-haven)

griffin (@bodycountgame)

Which 5 mcs are your favorites? they don't even have to be from any of the interactive fiction above

this is really tough, but at the moment i'll say

tie between indigo & este & jade (paved in ashes / ink & laces)

fleur (unwilling souls)

cyra (the unseelie)

tie between rumaiza & leliana (disenchanted)

tie between ellery & arainia (shepherds of haven)

Which 3 tropes are your absolute favorites that you would always go for?

best friend or childhood friends to lovers

monster who thinks theyre unlovable x person who loves them unconditionally

arranged marriage

If you had to pick between your favorite love interests, which would you: marry, kiss, smash, kill?

marry: vadeyn, morgan, xander, red

kiss: cove, hadrian, pepe, blade

smash: marco, nate, griffin

kill: NO ONE

What kind of interactive fiction was not written yet but you hope somebody will write it one day?

anything based on my favorite media, right now im thinking video games; dragon age, swtor, fallout, bioshock, mass effect, tbh wouldnt mind one based on bg3 lol

your favorite food

taco bell

your favorite (printed) book

gonna be real honest, i havent read a book in many years lol but for the sake of answering i will unironically admit i love the twilight saga and read them all at least twice in middle and high school

your favorite love interest from a video game

official: Cullen (Dragon Age), Anders (Dragon Age), Alistair (Dragon Age), Theron (SWTOR), Gale (BG3), Kaidan (Mass Effect), Danse (Fallout)

unofficial: Butch (Fallout), Max (The Outer Worlds)

which celebrity would you like to meet if it could be absolutely anybody

hmmm this is tough but I'd say all members of Day6, Mamamoo, Ateez, and Itzy. And also DPR Ian <3 I'd say VAV too but I've already met them ~

[authortobenamedlater]

E3 deep dive, brought to you by illness and cold medicine, you are warned.

I maybe should start just doing the highs and lows of each episode, because these take forever to write and I’m not sure how interesting they are for the rest of you. I was going to do highs and lows at the end of this post but it got too long.

We open up with Silver Team going rogue at Visegrad Relay, looking for their Cobalt comrades. It’s becoming increasingly clear that not only is this mission off the books, but John hasn’t told his team this. Not great for unit cohesion, Master Chief.

The base is eerily empty and there’s a rhythmic thumping sound. The Covenant? No, just a door opening and closing. Somehow that doesn’t feel much less scary.

Instead of the Covenant, we meet a swarm of Marines led by an impressively gutsy and likely ONI officer who puts herself between Silver Team and the ominously thumping door. She accuses John of stealing a Condor and falsifying a flight plan. This is news to the rest of Silver. John doesn’t care and barges through the door expecting to find Cobalt. He finds a whole lot of nothing. This doesn’t look like a cover-up at all, nope.

Next we whiplash to Ackerson having a touching and mundane moment with his father, who’s senile but not so far gone he doesn’t know he’s senile. Evidently Ackerson has been spilling classified information to his dad. In light of everything else going on, that’s pretty far down on Ackerson’s list of misdeeds. We also learn that “Julia” the mysterious flash clone was Ackerson’s sister. Why did he clone a bunch of her for Halsey? Ackerson Sr. reminds his son “You promised not to let them [the Covenant, presumably] take me alive.” Once again, nothing ominous here.

Then we have Dadmiral Keyes dressing down his overgrown children for ripping through the UCMJ like it’s wet toilet paper. You also get the feeling Keyes is getting squeezed into this and has information he should have shared with Silver, but was ordered not to. John asks if Ackerson is behind this, and everyone knows the answer but can’t say it.

John’s team is rightly furious with him for lying to them. Kai at least tries to reason with him but John’s not hearing it. The audience knows John is right and the UNSC-ONI machine is gaslighting him into thinking he doesn’t see what he knows he’s seeing. However, he’s still being a jerk about it and turning his own people against him. He doesn’t help his case when he mops the floor with his ONI babysitters like Steve Rogers taking out the Hydra guys in The Winter Soldier elevator scene.

Laera is trying to escape the Rubble and go after Soren, only to get wrapped up in Soren’s crew’s plot to steal the “Madrigal money.” Kwan continues to prove herself both useless and useful. With Madrigal glassed now, one has to wonder what role Kwan has to play. At the same time, she’s tough and resourceful, I have to give her that. She also tries to do what’s right. She knew Laera would die and went to rescue her, probably thinking she could reunite mother and son at some point but mom has to be alive for that to happen.

Laera, too, shows herself to be more than just a pretty face, resisting Antares’s interrogation even with a gun to her head. And the part where she says “I can usually reason with my husband” 🤣 it takes a real woman to hang with Soren-066. Plus, Laera always looks fabulous! I want to look that good if I ever get shoved in an airlock.

Got ahead of myself there, but some things work best tackled as a big chunk.

Riz seems to be increasingly disenchanted with Spartan life, not that I can blame her after how John treated her last week. Never mind that she’s been in constant pain for six months. She ends up at Louis’s place where we learn he and Danilo the PT are married. Riz asks Louis what “other things” there are to be besides a Spartan. We don’t get the rest of the conversation, but it looks like Riz might be getting ready to jump ship. She may find her options more limited once Reach falls, though.

Back at the ranch, we discover what actually happened to Cobalt. They were in fact at Visegrad, and ran into the Covenant. We don’t know if this happened before or after Silver Team showed up, but it confirms what we all thought: There’s some conspiracy to keep Covenant activity on Reach under wraps.

Keyes is clearly distraught over the four (remarkably intact) bodies in the morgue. THE DADMIRAL LOVES HIS OVERGROWN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED SPARTAN CHILDREN I am not taking questions on this. The exchange between him and Ackerson here is top-tier. When Ackerson tells Keyes to leave and Keyes says “I won’t run”? I don’t think you’re going to be in season 3, Jacob.

Kai goes to Ackerson, who admires her for defending her “CO.” John isn’t her “commanding officer.” He’s not an officer. I don’t know what they’d call him, though. “Your team leader”? I won’t bug you all with nitpicking terminology. Kai is so stir crazy that she asks to be deployed alone until John is cleared for combat. This, I suspect, is how she ends up with the S-IIIs.

John takes his concerns to Parangosky, who to the surprise of no one, has not really left ONI. He tells her the Covenant is on Reach and no one is listening to him. Parangosky doesn’t give him the help he’s looking for. She tells him to go back to FLEETCOM and lay low, and she’s brought a cadre of spooks to ensure his compliance. This does not placate the increasingly agitated Master Chief.

Ackerson visits Halsey in holo-jail and gives her a speech about how she made the Spartans “fragile” by implanting those pellets. He tells her that “these things [she] made, broken as they may be” will be the foundation for something greater. I suspect this is the Spartan-III program. It’s also what Adun says to Halsey’s clone right before he kills her and dissolves her in acid.

Then the bomb drops: Julia, Ackerson’s sister, was a Spartan who died from the augmentations. Suddenly everything about Ackerson makes sense.

But the bombs aren’t done dropping. Ackerson leaves, then walks back in with none other than Soren-066. He tells Halsey “I didn’t want you to be alone” and walks out. Halsey looks legit TERRIFIED when she sees Soren.

Finally, John goes to see Talia and finds her in church. I’m going Gaga over the religious references this year, you all don’t even know. Talia has a recording of the “interference” on Sanctuary, which we find out is also a prayer offered by the Arbiter not named Thel ‘Vadam, stating his intention to offer Reach as a burnt offering and place the Demon’s head on the altar.

While Talia is translating the prayer, we see a montage that notably shows us Ackerson giving his father a pill, probably cyanide, reiterating his promise that he wouldn’t let the Covenant take his dad alive. He tells his father “I have to go away” which is the third time he’s said as much in two episodes. As he’s walking out, Ackerson brings in a final Julia clone, and his dad thinks he’s seeing his little girl one last time. A teary-eyed Ackerson walks out, and the next time we see him he’s strapped into a troop transport. Going where, we wonder?

Then an explosion shatters the church’s windows and the episode ends.

All this sets us up for…next week it’s all going down.

[north-blue-hearts]

Famous Last Words

CisFem Reader x Trafalgar Law

CW: Violence, swearing, mature themes, erotic romance, angst, creative use of devil fruits, this story is still in progress, I will add content warnings as needed.

Chapter 5: Disenchanted

You watched the concert on the security cameras with Zoro. Rosinante left the room, leaving the two of you alone for long stretches.

“Soul mates, huh?” Zoro questions between songs at one point.

“Seems so.” You admit.

“… Was Nami right then?”

You laugh a little, taking a drink to think about your answer for a moment. “Yes. She was, but she kind of under sold it, I think.”

“Oh? Oh. Oh, wait, that’s why you needed to leave?”

You nod a little noncommittally. “It’s a powerful emotion.”

“Worried about the stalker?” He prompts, and you nod.

“Hard to keep a low profile, if your soul mate is the lead singer of Your Synthetic Enchantment.” You say a little roughly. “And… well, there’s more to it. I never talked about it.”

“Yeah.”

You tilt your head. “Yeah?”

Zoro goes over to the mini-fridge, grabbing a bottle of water as another song starts up. “Everyone knows you’re holding back, and it’s okay.” He adds quickly, putting a hand on the back of his neck and furrowing his brow a little. “I’m kind of crap with all the talkin’ stuff, but… I mean, everyone has things they don’t want to talk about.

“It doesn’t mean you don’t like us, or don’t trust us or whatever, so it doesn’t matter.” He admits, taking another drink. “But we know.” He motions toward you with his hand a little. “You get that worried look on your face, like you want to say more.”

“I do want to say more.” You admit, and it feels like a massive relief just to say that much.

Zoro grins. “That’s enough. Knowing that.” He assures you, turning back to the monitor and watching the feed.

After a few lines from the current song he turns to you. “Is this really a song about them being afraid of teenagers?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, it’s about authority being afraid of teenagers. I can see how you’d think that though.”

A few songs later the band share their thanks and love for the fans, pretending to pack up a little before they came out and did an encore song. The drums gave the song away before the first notes left the guitar and bass.

“Well, I know a thing about contrition, because I got enough to spare.” Law sang into the mic, but it was obvious his heart wasn’t in it at this point. He was ready to be done.

Near the end of the song Rosinante comes back into the room. “Alright, are you ready Miss?” He prompts. “Your friends went backstage before the encore, and the band should be getting there shortly. I doubt my boy’s going to say farewell properly, but he hardly does most nights anyway.”

You smile at Rosi. He was going to be your best friend in all of this, you were certain. Everyone already knew that Law’s parents, and younger sister, passed away some years ago. The tragedy of Flevance was one of the most well-known blunders of the World Government, and Law’s debut had been the action that had drawn attention to it.

His manager was different back then, and there’d been a huge hullabaloo as tons of information had come out about how Amber Lead Disease wasn’t a disease and wasn’t contagious. The real kicker to everything had been about how it wasn’t untreatable either, as Law was a survivor.

That was almost six years ago, and about a year after the story broke there was a big scuffle between Law and his first manager that shook up the tabloids for a little bit. After the dust settled on that, Rosinante became his manager. You’d seen pictures of him before, but seeing him in person had been an experience.

“I am, thank you Ro- er, Cora-san.” You say as you stand up and head out of the room. Jean’s in front, with you and Rosinante in the middle and Zoro at the rear. It felt like overkill to you, within the safety of the back halls, but you weren’t a bodyguard, and there wasn’t any reason to argue.

Besides, you were fully distracted.

Every step down the hall was a step closer. You could barely hear Rosinante talking as you walked, over the sound of your own heart. You could barely believe you were walking closer to him, and not further away.

The whole night had been surreal.

The further down the hall you walked, the more sounds you could hear. The muffled voices of people were echoing down the hall, just slightly louder than the distant muffled rush of the concert goers, still screaming on the high of the show as they delayed their inevitable departure. Some will have left before the encore to avoid the slow lines leaving the parking lot.

Some, like Franky and Robin, will be grilling food and commiserating with other fans idly in the lot, letting time pass by before they even consider leaving.

You turned the corner in time to see a door close down the hall, and it seemed to be your destination as Jean walked straight toward it. People in uniforms were further down the hall, using boards and arms, to block access and viewing down the hall as they kept any unauthorized people away.

You could hear Nami’s voice as the door opened.

“You really found your soul mate? That’s fantastic Traffy!” She beams and you can hear Luffy laugh.

“You should’ve told us ahead of time!” He’s almost pouting, you can hear it in his voice.

“Sorry, Mugiwara-ya, I didn’t want word to get out be… fore.” Law’s words die on his lips as he turns toward the door. His eyes go wide as he sees you, and a smile pulls at your lips as you look back at him.

You’re not really sure what to say with those golden eyes locked on yours. You almost want to look away, but you don’t. You can’t. A part of you is nearly afraid to blink, as though the action itself would pull you from the dream you must be having right now.

You’re barely aware of everyone else. You’re certain you heard Nami and Vivi gasp, but the room had fallen into a hush.

“… Are they gonna stay like that?” Someone asks, and there’s a smack followed by a grumble. You can hear it all, and you know everyone else is there, it just doesn’t matter.

“Cora-san, is there another room?” Vivi asks, and you’re vaguely aware of people shuffling around. Law steps back from the doorway, and you follow him, just a couple of steps. Enough space for everyone to leave.

The soft click of the door barely seemed enough of a signal, but once the door locked, he lifted his hands up. Holding them up by his waist and giving you a shy smile as you reached out and put your fingers against the palms of his hands.

The touch was almost like electricity, enough to pull your gaze away from his eyes, but the brief zing of pleasure gave way to warmth. A nervous laugh pushes past your lips at the relief of being able to touch his hands. He threads his fingers through yours, holding onto your hands and nearly sighing.

“(Y/N).” He says it softly, barely a whisper, as though he’s almost afraid to say it too loud, but he’s too desperate to not say it at all.

Emotions well up inside of you, and his fingers slip away from yours in a moment of panic as tears fill your eyes. You hadn’t heard your own name in years, and the first person to say it to you was your soul mate.

A muffled thank you falls from your lips as you bury your face in his chest, hugging him close. One warm hand is atop your head after a moment, the other around your back, returning the embrace.

“I can’t believe,” you manage, sniffling and almost laughing at the same time. “You dreamed about me.”

Law’s hands flex. “You dreamed about me.” He insists. “… I couldn’t reach you.”

“You could hear me.”

“Yeah.”

“Law.” You say his name once your voice clears a little, wiping your eyes before you step back slightly. His hands don’t quite let you go, one still at your waist, the other on your shoulder. You leaned into the hand against your face, hand holding his against your cheek. “Trafalgar Law.”

His fingers flex against your face. “Traffy.” He says, but the word is already distasteful to him, you can tell. “Call me… Traffy.”

You look up at him quizzically. “Why?”

“I can’t say your name, when we leave here, right?” His brows are knit, he looks irritated. “I have to call you… that name, until they find that guy.”

You nod. “Anywhere that someone could hear, yes.” You admit.

He pulls you closer, gently, as though he wants you to be able to pull away if you want. His eyes aren’t irritated anymore, but they’re on you, looking from your eyes to your lips.

“It’s only fair then,” He says, his voice almost a whisper. “There’s so much I want to tell you.”

“It seems like you want to kiss me,” you murmur softly, eyes moving up from his lips to his eyes as you smile. “More than you want to talk.”

The flicker of light in his eyes, the crooked grin that slips along his lips for a moment, are enough to send a sweet shiver up your back. “Seems so.” He answers quietly, pulling you a little closer.

There’s a soft breath between you both, one last glance at one another that can’t last as long as you wish it could, and the first tentative brush of your lips against his sends little shivers through you both. You feel him suck in a breath along with you, and then the small space between you both disappears as you nearly crash your lips into his.

The rush through your chest pulls your lips apart, leaving you desperate for air as your heart’s pulling in every scrap it can find against the flood of oxytocin in your system. Law’s hands hook your thighs as he lifts you up, bracing you against his chest as you lean down from your new vantage and kiss him again, legs wrapping around his waist.

Moans bubble up in his chest, shuddering against you as soft sounds fall from your lips in return. Heavy breaths and desperate kisses are all you know for a moment before he sits down on his knees. His hands shift, and he leans you back, resting your back against the floor as he cradles the back of your head in his hand.

His arm is beside you as your hands disappear into his hair. It’s damp from the concert still, but you don’t care. The scent of makeup cleaner still hasn’t reached you, and the heavy scent of exertion isn’t your concern as hot breath crashes over you before he kisses you again. His knees are pressing into your thighs, and your body is hot with need and desire, your hips shift, sliding your thighs up his legs as another kiss threatens to steal sense and breath from you.

Your fingers are fumbling with the buttons on his shirt when there’s a knock at the door. You both freeze, and after a second you hear Nami’s voice.

“Just making sure you’re having your first time together where, and when, you really want to.” She says with a knowing lilt to her voice. “We’re heading to the General, Dia, text me if you’re going home a different way.”

You can feel the heat rushing up to your face, and you can see that Law’s face is flushed.

“Thanks, Nami.” You reply as evenly as you can manage, and hear her walk away. You look around and start to realize you’re on the floor of a backstage room. Not that it would’ve been something you would’ve regretted, but maybe dinner and a soft bed was a slightly better prelude if you could choose it.

Law puts his head down on your chest for a second, seeming to gather himself.

“That -.” He starts, and you start to laugh – a little from nerves, but also because it was more of a rush than you had expected.

“They really undersell the whole ‘you’ll know’, bit, don’t they?” You ask, and he starts to laugh softly. His laugh fuels yours and yours his, and he sits up, resting on his heels as he finally just lets himself laugh completely.

You could listen to that sound for years.

The two of you are nearly in tears by the time you get yourselves under control.

“Yeah,” he admits, chuckling again as he stands up and offers you a hand up. “Intoxicating seems like a cop out.”

You’re certain your face is a beacon of red as you stand up. “Yeah… little bit.”

There’s a moment of almost awkward silence between you. You’re not sure what to say, but you know that you don’t want to leave. Long, tattooed fingers, reach out and curl around your hand, and Law runs the bottom of his lip along his teeth, trying to think of something to say.

“I… have a submarine.” He offers. “I mean, just… you don’t have to go… home. Um, you could stay.”

“… I want to stay.” You admit quietly.

“For tonight. Tomorrow.” He corrects, bringing your fingers up to his mouth and kissing your knuckles softly. “We don’t leave for the next island for a few days. We have some time.”

“Time to talk?” You prompt.

He smirks. “Among other things, but yes.”

“We have a lot to talk about.” You insist.

Law looks over at the wall, glancing at the clock. “There’s 104 hours between now and when we have to set sail.” He begins with a devious grin. “Assuming proper rest, that 64 hours awake.” He pulls you close and nearly purrs the next words into your ear.

“I’m sure we can spare a few hours in there for words, at some point.”

You start to say something when the air shifts around you. You aren’t sure what it is exactly, just a sense that there’s something in the air that wasn’t there before.

“Shambles.” Law says, and your whole world shifts.

[roberrtphilip]

Hey! What about some fluffy hurt/comfort headcanons for Robselle? If you want to obvs! :) :)

lmao I typed these, then realized I was mostly just writing angsty headcanons I have, so these don't really fit in the "fluffy hurt/comfort" category, but I'll post them anyway :]

I headcanon that Giselle's pregnancy was pretty hard on her, and stressful, and Robert was always there to make sure she was taken care of. He made sure she got enough sleep/rest, gave her massages whenever she needed them (even if it meant waking up at 3am to give one), and held her a lot. She really needed to be held.

I also headcanon that there was a short period of time where Giselle just couldn't get Sofia to stop crying, no matter how hard she tried. That, combined with Morgan's change in behavior, really took a toll on her, and she started to feel like she wasn't a very good mom. Robert does his best to assure her that she's a wonderful mother, and that Sofia's crying, and Morgan's behavior aren't her fault. I wrote a fic about him comforting her during a small breakdown, but it's very rough atm, and idk when I'll ever finish it rip.

This is based loosely off a scene from one of the scripts, but Giselle is very aware of how some people view her. She knows when people think she's "crazy" or "stupid", and when they treat her like a joke. She tries really hard to not let it get to her, but it isn't always easy to ignore.

They are each other's go-to person for comfort, and the only person they ever really breakdown in front of. (that scene in Disenchanted when Giselle says she "used to be good at things" is truly the Scene of All Time to Me, I wish their little moment was longer)

After the spell broke, Robert had a lot of anxiety about losing Giselle (again!!) and his daughters, whiiiich I wrote about here (x). I've been trying to write more about this topic, because his story wasn't really... resolved or even really touched on in the movie, and it makes me sad. It takes him awhile, and a lot of reassuring from Giselle that everyone is fine, but he eventually feels more at ease as time passes.

Related to that ^ I headcanon he had anxiety after almost losing her the first time too. He never told Giselle about it, but he'd have nightmares about losing her again pretty often, and will sometimes wake up and rest his forehead against her chest softly just to make sure her heart is still beating.

I also think, when they first started dating, Robert worried he wasn't good enough for Giselle, and wondered if she regretted staying with him. He'd make jokes in passing, but there was a bit of true fear behind his words. This is another headcanon I really want to write about, but I can't ever get it right. Some day... some day!!

[grandhotelabyss]

Favorite Yeats poem? I can't get enough of him.

"Easter, 1916." He does everything he could do there; it's the greatest political poem in English of the 20th century. First, simply from a "craft" perspective, there is the propulsive but unobtrusive accentual (but not syllabic) meter, the pulsing three-beat line. Then the deceptively simple abab rhyme scheme—except that the even lines only ever off-rhyme. Sound mimics sense in this mingling of the beautiful and the terrible: our march song is never quite in perfect rhythm. We can never quite get the steps right as we march toward our sublime deaths. This isn't "The Charge of the Light Brigade."

For one thing, it's not public rhetoric, or not just public rhetoric. There is the quiet, personal opening of the first stanza, the "I" in its humble self-deprecatory historical setting, when we know what modern life and all its calculating mediocrity meant for Yeats. Then, enacting in language the transformation it proposes of public life, the first appearance of the refrain lifts the poem into epic.

In the second stanza, we find an epic catalogue of the flawed vessels of historical force, made more poignant by a knowledge of what it probably took for Yeats to praise MacBride ("a drunken, vainglorious lout") who had, in his mind, robbed him of Maud Gonne. Small-nation politics lends itself to such gossip. "Great hatred, little room," as he had it elsewhere. But that farce is past. Comedy has turned to tragedy in the national epic of the uprising.

But this, again, is poetry: not propaganda. You don't write the best political poem of the 20th century by celebrating emancipatory violence without subtlety, without nuance, without irony. Here we have the irony of a conservative revolution—again, recall the etymology of Tory—revolution not as the forward movement of history, as the benighted progressive thinks, but rather as the obdurate force that blocks history from engulfing the whole of the lifeworld. He sounds oddly like Benjamin here, as well as like Eliot, showing how vain it is to explain the most serious art and thought by shallow labels like left and right. "Enchanted" as it is, though, the stone is also opposed to nature, to the "living stream" figured most vividly in the prospective mating of hen and cock. As in "Sailing to Byzantium," another favorite, Yeats is worried about the conflict between the art and the life, between raw life and the artifice of eternity. The refrain does not appear, the poem's own flow broken.

Our bard, who as a member of the Protestant upper class favored negotation with England rather than violent revolt, expresses misgivings. Homer didn't have misgivings, for all that Yeats would later want to model himself on Homer's "unchristened heart." He has misgivings about more than just resistance tactics. He identifies with women, he fears for the nation's children, for the nation's very soul. The trope of the stone becomes disenchanted, no longer the Arthurian romance's source of political power but the Old Testament's hardness of heart, inviting divine chastisement. The cause of the revolutionaries itself comes into question for a moment. Was their violence part of the vanity, part of the "motley," with which the poem began? Have we really ever left the comedy, the 18th-century farce? But the motive spiritualizes the event: "excess of love." We think of Antigone, we think of Lear. Tragic heroism is still heroism. And in conclusion, the epic catalogue proper, before the refrain comes around again for our cyclic poet, itself changed utterly: "terrible beauty" no longer a political slogan but the aesthetic credo that will guide the rest of the poet's work out of the bee-loud glade and the Celtic Twilight and into "the desolation of reality," "gaiety transfiguring all that dread," the gaiety that is the achievement of form in the midst of terror.

[nowis-scales]

Do you prefer Three Houses or Engage?

Whew, okay. I am happy to answer your question, but please be prepared for me to talk a lot, because I have a lot to say on this topic.

I haven’t played all of the routes of Three Houses. At this point in time, I’ve played Verdant Wind and Crimson Flower. As for Engage, I’ve played all of it (though my playthrough posts sure make it look the other way around, heh). From this perspective, it might seem like there is a possibility for a bit of bias here or there. And while I agree that that could be true…

In this specific case, however, I don’t think it matters. I greatly prefer Engage over 3H.

Now, I should start off by pointing out that some of the stuff I say is going to be hyperbolic. I’m at a point where I’m quite jaded with 3H and many of its fans. There’s only so much discourse and disrespect a girl can take before she becomes a little disenchanted with the subject in question. That being said, though… honestly, none of that stuff affects my overall view. It’s mostly just about the way I might be delivering the message.

The thing to understand about me is though I love video games, if it’s a video game with a story as a major point, it automatically becomes the most important part. I enjoyed both 3H and Engage, but… the best way I know how to put why I would choose Engage over 3H is that while both have their share of writing problems, 3H’s bother me that much more.

To me, it just seems like Koei Tecmo and IntSys had this wide scope for 3H and couldn’t narrow down on what they were doing. And yeah, stones in a glass house comin’ from a Fates fan, I hear the people — but for all that 3H gets called this morally grey masterpiece, half the time it just seems like the “grey morality” comes from the fact that they couldn’t agree whether or not EdeIgard was in the wrong. In developer interviews, Kusakihara of IntSys, calls her the villain. Her route is referred to as one where you bulldoze everyone else to get what you want. It’s not exactly flattering, yet that same interview also states her popularity with the creative team. In my playthrough posts of CF, I know I mentioned to the point of annoyance that she rarely, if ever, faces a proper consequence or sacrifice for what she wants. And in Hopes it only seemed to get worse, with the developer interviews there actually confirming that she is actively happier than she ever was in Houses… Even her ending in Azure Gleam, which is sexist and disgusting, can be read as being in her favour, because how can you accuse her of anything anymore? She looks like a grown woman, but she’s mentally a freshly teenage girl! No more consequences! It feels like they’re just constantly flip flopping between “oh she’s right” or “oh she’s wrong”, which is not something you want from a perpetrator of conflict in the narrative. One minute they’re saying she’s villainous, and the next there’s a convenient & unclear excuse that tries to make her a good person for doing it. If something doesn’t favour whatever the devs wanted to highlight in that moment, it just gets unceremoniously swept under the rug. The Agarthans are proof enough of that. That’s not grey morality, that’s just being indecisive and, quite frankly, the opposite of impartial in Koei’s case.

That’s another problem that gets me about 3H’s story. I hate, hate their supposed “worldbuilding” trick where they just throw out minor details about like, a country’s problem with sexism or a group of people like the Almyrans or the Dagdans and just… never elaborate. I’m particularly interested in the Nabateans and the sexism of Adrestia myself, but are those points that ever get elaborated on? No, because it’s time to talk about crests and the crest system, which could have been an interesting look at classism if the concept actually stood up under scrutiny. It is very difficult for me to believe that there is some specific-to-Fodlan classism issue going on when Crests don’t determine whether you become or stay noble. Byleth is not immediately noble once it’s acknowledged that they have one, and Constance’s house fell in spite of it. Considering the possible marriage option for Ingrid in her paralogue, being nobility is not even the only way to ensure success in society. And all this is without even acknowledging the ridiculousness of the idea that the Nabateans would want to perpetuate a system that was actively soaked in the blood of their own. It just feels like, rather than engaging more clearly with how the crest system would actually work and subsequently be attacked, it just becomes this abstract thing that all other interesting thoughts get sucked into, without any concept that it’s real aside from EdeIgard and Sylvain mentioning it. I don’t feel passionately about it, it’s just kind of something that’s there. It could have been interesting to execute, but the way they went about it just doesn’t make it seem real to me — so, again, any attempt at a morally grey conflict there is lost on me.

And then there’s the problem with tell don’t show. I’ve seen people saying that Engage has this too… but 3H is god awful for this. The whole time I was playing Engage, I just remember thinking how much I loved how naturally emotional everything was. When you fight Hortensia again in the Solmic castle, the fact that she’s crying that she just wants her family back is sad. It’s natural. You don’t feel like the game is holding your hand, trying to make you to feel upset on Hortensia’s behalf. You don’t need to be told that Hortensia is trying so hard to be independent and strong and leaderly. You can just hear it in the way that she instead whimpers about how nobody will give her what she wants. You can tell that she’s angry that she cannot emulate her father or Ivy, and that she can’t get Ivy to do the things she wants her to do when it should have been so easy in theory. The way she reacts to the situation laid out before her shows us that yes, Hortensia has been through a lot the last little while and is getting to a breaking point where we might be able to help her. It’s what makes it that much more cruel when Zephia mind controls her to rip her away from us. 3H’s kind of pale in comparison at times, really.

The best way I know how to explain how 3H kinda flops at this is to continue picking on EdeIgard a little (sorry). I’ve rambled about it before, but presumably in an effort to show the legitimacy of EdeIgard’s suffering at the hands of the Agarthans in Crimson Flower, they put in this scene where she sees a rat and gets scared. The implication is supposed to be that there were numerous rats in the dungeon where she was kept when she was being experimented on, and that she now has a trauma response to them. However, when you actually get to the scene, her reaction is obscenely unrealistic — because it’s about being cute. This is a trauma response she’s supposed to be having, and Byleth can tease her about it. When responding to the stimulus of the rat, she doesn’t even respond with intense fear or anything symptomatic of the actual mental illness she would probably have. She just screams, and then tries to act like it didn’t happen, but of course she gets all blushy about it. It is entirely ingenuine, and I can’t just bring myself to emotionally invest if they only know how to give characters subdued, acceptable reactions or have them just tell me that something made them sad or scared. Just hearing that this character has had a sad life — and, conveniently, almost all of them have had a sad life — doesn’t make me feel emotionally connected to them. Representing the more human parts of that struggle does.

Bottom line, I shouldn’t feel like the game is holding up an “APPLAUSE” style sign that says “BE SAD” whenever the characters talk about things that have happened to them.

These are three big things that I just feel really tamper with my enjoyment of 3H to its fullest extent. The game just makes me feel too micromanaged, like it doesn’t trust me to be smart enough to pick up on the things it wants to say. For all that people say it’s the best story FE’s done in years, I would actually disagree on that. It’s the characters and the lore that carry this game. The story is just not that well-organized, nor is it willing to give you any sort of space.

That being said, I do not dislike 3H! At the moment I am… admittedly incredibly sick of it, but I don’t dislike it. There are plenty of things that it manages to do well! Like I just said, I think the lore is really interesting. The Nabateans in particular have always been a subject of interest for me, because there’s something so intriguing to me about them sort of being a parallel being to humanity, but still being so viciously discriminated against. The conflict between Duscur and Faerghus was also pretty attention-catching, and while I’m not super crazy about how the Insurrection of the Seven is portrayed, I do like that this is a kind of political conflict that they would confront.

In fact, the fact that this game does try to confront the more political side of things is another thing I like about it. Whether it does this well all the time is a different situation entirely, but just the fact that they decided to put this in is something I enjoy. One thing I know that I instantly enjoyed about Persona 5 that was also reflected in 3H was the way it brought up how the socio-political issues were affecting the society that everyone was living in. Each country had its own individual problems, with Adrestians struggling with sexism & classism, the Faerghans with their unstable government and newly developed tendency toward anti-Duscurian racism, and the Leicester Alliance with its imbalance/disagreement between people and the doubt surrounding its new leaders. To have these things helps us better understand what the characters are going through, as well as the causes for a war. It also makes the world feel more alive, because now we know what kinds of things each group is up against. It develops them. I’m still not a fan of how sometimes these things are just brought up and dropped in favour of one thing or the other, but there is often enough thought in them to make it most of the way, and that most of the way is awesome.

As for the characters, they have to confront a recruitment mechanic that completely throws their motives out the window at times just to conform to a specific narrative… and they still turned out pretty good, so that really speaks to how great they are! There is a lot of detail to put into each character’s life, and for the most part, the devs took care to make sure that everyone had a tie to someone. If they didn’t, then that felt intentional in some way. Relationships in particular really humanize characters, and I feel like 3H took that into account. I know I said it eons ago, but I’m still so delighted that we know about Maya Kiersten. Other FE games don’t tend to give these minor characters that a main character loves a name, but here we are, getting all kinds of details about her. Same goes for Holst and Rodrigue. It’s fun, and I really like that this happens. It also intrigues me that some of these characters aren’t total angels, and have their ugly sides as well. I need to put this in big bold lettering, but I do not condone the racism of Hilda or Ingrid. However, I do think that it’s an interesting addition to each of their characters. With the ways they are otherwise portrayed, it is possible that you could get too rosy of an image of the two girls. Their own racism undercuts that, it makes them feel more realistic, because bigoted people aren’t all one-note. They can seem otherwise kind and dependable, and still not be able to separate their head from their ass when it comes to being considerate of others. It fleshes them out. Details like this do add a little more to them, even if I wish they would actually explore them more in the context of the world as well. Racism that doesn’t get improved or worked upon is just racism for realism’s sake, and why should people who experience irl racism have to deal with that? They’re very aware of what the real world looks like, thank you.

The thing about 3H in comparison to Engage is that it just trips so many more times. I didn’t know what it was about Engage that just caught me, but once it had me, it had me. The emotional influence was definitely part of it, which I already mentioned, but I think another thing that I just liked in comparison was the fact that it didn’t try as hard as 3H did for some of that stuff. Thematically yes, Engage is more straightforward and doesn’t pile on the angst quite the same. It’s lighter and doesn’t take itself painfully seriously. Nonetheless, the stuff it does try to do comes out beautifully. It (for the most part — we need to have a whole other post about Alcryst) knows when to make you laugh, when to make you feel sad, and when to instill feelings of suspense or hope. It cares deeply about its characters and seeing them to the end of their journey. I never felt like I didn’t know the thesis of the game, and I almost never felt like there was a moment where I really wished they would just tell that part of the story differently. The whole thing just felt very carefully put together to me, and made for a better impression overall because there were no conflicting accounts of what was meant to go on based on the writer at the moment. I could tell that the game trusted me to draw my own conclusions. It made for a much more fun experience, because I love finding these small things woven in by the developers and mining them out like little gems. That’s part of the reason why I love Fates so much. While everyone else is complaining about how awful it is, I get to be searching for and finding all of these amazing parts that just got totally missed. I love stuff like that.

The worldbuilding in Engage is also something that I feel was a lot stronger. Things don’t just drop off. Tensions between Brodia and Elusia, for example, constantly inform the way the characters approach situations. Even conversations that are supposed to be silly, like that of Étie and Goldmary, are informed by that tension. Characters don’t forgive and forget everything that happened to them in relation to their societies just because they’re working together now. Citrinne doesn’t forgive Yunaka for her assassinations right away, she remains suspicious of her for a long time. When Ivy plays a part in the summoning of the Fell Dragon and ends up being part of the reason why Morion was killed, Alcryst holds a grudge against her — even though Ivy was part of the solution for the rest of the group, and even though Ivy herself turns out not to be a Fell Dragon worshipper at all. Things like these are constantly informing the plot and the characters. They don’t just disappear when it is inconvenient for them to exist. This is just one of many examples, but it really made the conflict feel like it was distinct, and thus was more meaningful when they came together.

I also just generally feel like the cultures in Engage ended up being more unique as well. I’ve played the entirety of Crimson Flower and Verdant Wind, as well as about 8 chapters of Azure Moon, and I’m not sure I could do as much to show how the cultures vary as much as I could with Engage. However, to give credit where credit is due, one could argue that the cultures of the Alliance, the Empire, and the Kingdom are less distinct than Elusia, Solm, Lythos, and Brodia because 3H’s conflicts need to build up to the final concept of uniting Fodlan. Nonetheless, the whole point of the nations breaking up from being just Adrestia is at least partially because the cultures are too different, and even if they weren’t… This would still just be more proof of my point that EdeIgard gets stuff weighted towards her. Therefore, I kinda prefer to think that it is not as much of a deliberate choice because the purposeful interpretation is straight up glorifying the imperialism element of the game. It’s just different in the case of Engage, where the differences and similarities are there with much more explicit purpose. The peace of Firene is played quite like the freedom of Solm, for example. Both nations have this seemingly leisurely thing that they value above all else, and it’s something that they know must make them seem overly gentle or carefree to outsiders. Nonetheless, once you start to spend time with characters like Céline and Timerra, it becomes clear just how viciously they fight to protect their people’s right to having those things in their lives. And this, of course, isn’t the only similarity, nor is it the only difference. If you need to see more of what I mean, emblemxeno made a great post on this that might help fill in some more gaps. It’s stuff like this that makes me prefer the way Engage executes its worldbuilding, because you can feel the way the countries influence each other, as well as the things that come innately from themselves. It’s not quite the same as Fodlan’s sort-of similar cultures. The ideas from each place don’t bounce off each other quite the same, so I find they’re not as entertaining to observe.

I could probably keep going on for awhile longer, but the answer to this ask is like… probably way more than you bargained for when you initially sent it, so I might leave it off at that. Any further, more specific questions can always be sent at a later date! I’m certainly not opposed to getting more asks after all ;)

At the very least, hopefully I was able to shed some light on my opinions on the contrasts between 3H and Engage, and why each one either does or doesn’t work better for me. Thanks for taking the time to ask!

[saltandfire-blog]

Lucerys Velaryon x Aemond Targaryen

Salt and Fire

When you fall in love, you will carve out your heart and throw it into the deepest ocean. You will be all in - blood and salt.

Summary: Lucerys Velaryon belongs to both sea and sky. His whole life he has tried to prove his blood runs thick with not just fire but salt, despite the scandalous accusations that have haunted him and his brothers. Aemond Targaryen is nothing but fire, and before their families tore them asunder, his nephew was one of the few people he did not scorch. History books would have you believe the green and black children of House Targaryen grew up enemies, but before eyes and loyalties were slashed, there was once devotion between the two second sons. As boys grow into men, it is easier to repay an injury, because forgiveness is a burden and revenge a pleasure.

Notes: I’m SO sorry this chapter took much longer to put out than expected! Last chapter I put out way too soon, posting it around 4 in the morning, so the next day when I read through it I was horrified to see just how many mistakes there were! So if you read the chapter 10 when it was freshly posted, I strongly encourage to reread lol. I’m sure there’s still stuff array considering I’m a terrible proof reader, but it’s not humiliating at least. So with this, I admit I did take extra time updating to make sure it was ready. Anyone a beta reader out there?

I also did receive a comment last chapter about Jace’s character development, and I wanted to wave frantically and assure them it was coming! And here it is! Lots of brother moments in this chapter that I’m particularly fond of and really enjoyed writing Jace and Luke. Entirely different brother dynamics than Aemond and Aegons that’s for sure. I know I have also focused a lot on Luke and Laenor’s relationship, but I felt like Rhaenyra needed to be paid her dues, especially after that new trailer (!!) so here is my tribute to her character development through this story as well.

The poem Lucerys reads is not actually from Nymeria or the asoiaf universe, but from the poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley. It’s a favorite one of mine that I thought could sound easily Dornish. Florys the Fox also isn’t mine and belongs to G.R.R., though I did embellish and added more to the original story that I hope you guys might have found interesting with this back and forth story exchange between Aemond and Luke.

I really tried my best to go back and read over crumbs about Dragonstone from Davos POV chapters and inserts from F&B, so I hope you enjoyed them!

Thank you so much for all your comments, kudos, & bookmarks! I cannot express how thankful I am for every bit of feedback!

Oh, and issa embar zaldrīzes translation is my sea dragon 😊

Chapter Eleven

disenchanted.

Waves lapped at Luke's feet where he sat along the beach of Dragonstone, his boots having been discarded a while ago where he buried his naked feet beneath the sand and sat with a light booklet in his hand. Three rods had been set up, but it was only Luke looking after them. He glanced up from his reading every few paragraphs to check if any lines were being tugged at, but despite them having casted them quite a while ago there was still nothing. Luke determined something must be amiss and debated pulling them back in to the check the bait. Dragonstone's castellan Ser Alfred Broome had told them how harvester and hunter shrimps were common to catch in the warmer waters around the volcanic island, so yesterday their father made a day of rowing out past the dead coral beds that surrounded Dragonstone and set a net to catch the shrimp they meant to use for larger fish today. They were supposed to meet Laenor after they broke their fasts that morning, but his attendant had informed them their father was running rather late. Recalling how he had indulged more than his usual the day before while at dinner, Luke sighed and determined to go on ahead while he waited for his father to compose himself, taking Ser Lorent with him down to the beach to appease his mother. Even though his brother wasn’t usually interested in fishing, Jace had also come to join him, but Luke suspected he had only come as it was something to do on their off day without any lessons and had brought his bow with a small satchel of arrows to practice with on the beach.

He and Jace were still on tentative terms, but they were each other's only company it could sometimes feel like on the island. Their port was not a busy one like it’s neighboring island and lacked a market of any foreign merchants, nor was it teeming with relatives like on High Tide or the Red Keep. It was only them who resided in the previously vacant castle, and the servants on the island mostly came from the fishing village on the eastern side of the island. His mother told them it had not been properly lived in for over a decade, and remarked with a small smirk it's last resident had been her uncle, Prince Daemon who had left King's Landing with his mother’s brother's egg and a paramour. Though that was all before his marriage to Laena, his father interjected in defense of his sister's honor.

Luke found Dragonstone a very peaceful retreat when one warmed up to its gaudy castle and rather enjoyed life away from court with his family. Life was much more relaxed here. They spent the whole first week they came to the island practically living along the surrounding Blackwater. The sands were soft and the beach was long, and Luke taught Joffrey how to jump over waves and to pick his feet up higher as he ran through the water. Despite Jace and their father's complaints, he even enjoyed the smell of smoke and brimstone in the island's salt air that was particularly distinctive on Dragonstone, especially the closer your traveled towards the Dragonmont that emitted the thick grey smoke. Even his mother and father’s drawn faces had softened after a time and begun to relax in their household away from the capital, and before long, he actually heard his mother confess favoring their decision to move more than anyone. After all her refusals, it seemed Rhaenyra felt life was much easier away from the Red Keep as well.

Though while Luke and his mother wondered why they had never left King’s Landing sooner, it was his brother and father who were struggling. Jace had become uncharacteristically quiet even before they had moved here and it seemed even more prominent now. Back in King's Landing, if Luke felt betrayed by what had happened about the incident in the Dragonpit, it seemed his brother felt just as much, if not more so. Aegon's blatant denial of showing them the tunnels had appeared to have struck Jace rather hard, and as the ever dutiful son, whatever relationship he had held with their eldest uncle seemed to dissipate when he agreed with their mother that he was to create distance between her half-brothers. Jace mentioned Aegon apologized not long after the whole affair and tried to steer his brother back into their old antics, but Luke had found his brother lingering in their apartments and spending much more time with their mother and Joffrey than he ever would have before. That had included Ser Harwin especially.

Jace was not discreet in seeking out whatever attention it was he wanted from Lord Strong, and it had become a problem. So much so, that when Ser Criston was able to mistreat his brother in front of the other knight, it had been enough to provoke a beating so severe it had him disbanded from the City Watch. After returning all three of them back to the Keep, Luke remembered how he had stood in his defense against the Queen before his parents had shown up, and if he hadn't already began to endear himself to Luke, he had earned Luke's admiration after that night. Most of his life he had spent either trying to ignore or hate the man everyone whispered was his true father. Now that he was forced away, he felt unexpectedly dejected to see him go. Enough so that when Ser Harwin implored he should make up with his brother before leaving, he did his best. The two had never been so distant from each other and he could tell Jace was still sour about the slug he had thrown at his shoulder when he tried to pull Luke away from going after Aemond.

Though once the training yard incident happened, it appeared to have been the last straw for his parents.

“Father's not coming,” Jace called out, shooting another arrow into the distance to land in the sand further from his last.

Luke noted he was wearing his new bracers Laenor had made for him out of brand new leather that matched a sheath for the dagger Ser Harwin had given Jace that was now a permanent fixture on his belt these days. Before saying goodbye, Lord Strong had claimed it was a nameday present for Jace since it was approaching, though it did not look newly forged and had three small stones of blue, red, and green imbedded into the hilt. No one commented it seemed a much more sentimental gift than just for his brother's nameday. In fact, his mother had even looked away when Ser Harwin pressed it into Jace's hand, and their father handled it for a few moments before he gave it back to his son, only to gift him a sheath to place it in a few weeks later.

“He's just running late.”

Jace shrugged, loosing another arrow before traipsing off to go collect the rest from the beach.

Surprisingly, it was their father who had been the most publicly upset after the training yard fight. Ser Harwin gave his account of it all and told them how he had felt Ser Criston had handled Jace roughly and had only reacted to slander being thrown at his and their mother's honor. When the Queen called for Ser Harwin to be disbanded from his position, it was Laenor who pushed back rather abrasively about the decision.

“It was Ser Harwin that laid hands on my son, Ser Laenor. And we have already established years ago that Ser Joffrey provoked such an attack on himself when he threatened your own wife.”

“Your Kingsguard is a mad dog!” he exclaimed, angrier than Luke could say he had ever seen him, reminding him that his father was Velaryon but also half dragon. “First he’s shown clemency for killing Ser Joffrey Lonmouth at our wedding, and now he dares lay hands on my son!”

“Disguise it how you wish, I will no longer turn the other way and live beside this man who dishonors my family, your Grace. How much longer will you turn your eyes from the crimes this man continues to commit while in his position? When will consequences finally be sought?”

Viserys, who had been his own witness to it all, faced Luke's father and everyone was silent while the King hesitated to answer Laenor's calls. Though the Queen swept ahead and turned her chin up at the heir of Driftmark's challenge.

“Ser Laenor, have no doubts that I would gladly wish to see the day decency and duty are conducted about this castle, and consequences dulled out indeed.”

There were no words of threat, Luke had thought, but the way his father straightened and his heated breathing quieted, his mouth setting tightly against his teeth as he and Rhaenyra glared at Alicent, it definitely seemed perceived as one. Like the Queen had just drawn steel against them.

[laf-outloud]

There was a picture Jensen took with a fan that got uploaded yesterday and while the fan looks great, Jensen does not. He looks extremely exhausted and possibly unhappy. Like I don't know how to accurately describe it. He looks very dead-eyed lately. There's no light in there anymore unless he's genuinely laughing in the picture or something like that. Otherwise, he just looks miserable. Like something is clearly wrong. But what bothers me most is the idiot AA's sounding off with OMG he looks gorgeous or He is so damn hot or Flawless as always all throughout the Jensen tag about this picture and clearly that's not the case? I'm not insulting him, he's an attractive guy, but in that photo he looks downright tired. I zoomed into his face just to see if I was maybe imagining it but I'm not. He doesn't look good and something is definitely off. I actually feel bad for him, especially when his idiotic stanbase willingly ignores it and continues to objectify him, saying how gorgeous he is here. And it's like, no he's not, not in this moment, and if that was someone you actually cared about in your own lives, you'd be concerned not salivating. That group of fans are the absolute worst I've ever come across. They don't even really care about him, they just use him for their daily fantasies. I can't blame him if he is disenchanted with them at all, like he looks in some fan photos lately. They're the biggest users ever so I don't feel bad if he uses them for their bank accounts.

I just hope he's doing okay. Like this is beyond concerning now from a human perspective.

AAs don't love Jensen for who he is, just for who they want him to be. As I saw someone comment, it's very much a Conditional love.

As for how he's looking, there have been quite a few people (obviously not AAs) who've noticed the downslide. And look, I'll be the first one to admit that after a certain age, when you're tired, it really shows. I also don't think the alcohol and botox help. But there does seem to be a certain light missing in the eyes, and his smile even seems tighter.

The best way I can describe it is that he seems lonely, which is really unfortunate if that's the reason.

Anyway, here's just a small progression of photos (at non-styled events without filters) for comparison:

May 2023, July 2022, Nov. 2021, Jan. 2020, Sept. 2018, 2017

[eleni-cherie]

lonely hearts club ✨ || kth au - chapter 0.7

“lonely hearts club // do you want to be with somebody like me?”

maybe single parents are meant to be members of the lonely hearts club.

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: single parents au, romcom, humour, fluff, angst, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

»»»

"She's toothing, right?"

Taehyung hummed, averting his eyes from the little girl in front of him. "Uh yeah, is it obvious?" He arched a brow.

Cassandra giggled lightly as she wiggled a stuffed bear in front of her daughter. The baby clapping happily with her little hands at the sight of her favourite plushie. "A little. She's biting on that like her life depended on it," she said, pointing at the toothing ring between Ari's lips. "Ah true," he laughed out tugging a bit at the plastic star causing Ari to frown. Quickly letting go again, not wanting to provoke her in any way.

"So.. any plans for the weekend?" Cassandra asked then, after a moment of hesitation. Peeking at him, she saw Taehyung nod. Giving Ari her bottle as the girl's hands were already reaching for it. Her thirst growing bigger and the liquid soon soothed her. "Actually, yeah."

Cassandra nodded understanding. She was determined to get to know him better. To see if her gut feeling was right about him after all or good-for-nothing like in so many other cases. Hence her poor attempt to try meeting without their children for once. So her heart sank a little when hearing his reply. "Oh, that's nice." She tried her best not to sound disappointed. "With your friends again?"

"Yeah.. We all have different lives, so it's nice when we can hang out together."

She remembered him having mentioned something like that before. And even though that prevented her plan, she was still happy. Understanding that it must mean a lot to him. "It's great you still manage meeting your friends," she faintly smiled, "Wished I could do that, too."

Taehyung arched a brow at her, laughing under his breath. "You sound like you wouldn't have any friends of your own."

Scoffing playfully, she folded her arms in front of her chest. "Of course I do have friends. Just not that many.." Her voice trailed off as she straightened Isavella's t-shirt. "And they're always busy with their own stuff. So I usually just leave Izzy at my mum and do something on my own. Like this weekend again, as it seems.."

He hummed and wiped Ari's mouth as she had finished drinking. "And what are you planning to do alone?" He was genuinely curious to hear her plans. But perhaps also pitied her a little.

Cassandra shrugged. "Nothing special. Just going to the cinema. There's one close by that sometimes shows old films. And they're showing one of my favourite ones this sunday.. Sure I could stream it online, but I want to get out a little so.." She sat Isavella back into her stroller and leaned back on the bench. They had a great view of the lake from there, she noticed. A big weeping willow blocking the afternoon sun for them. Its long branches swaying gently on the water's surface.

"I prefer cinema over streaming," he said then, "It's more fun on the big screen."

"Agreed," she smiled.

"And what film is it?"

"An old one, doubt you'd know it."

He huffed, before a lopsided smirk spread over his full lips. "Try me," he said smugly. Causing her to laugh out. "Okay? It's called 'Roman Holiday'. Ever heard of it?"

He shook his head. Of course she hadn't expected him to do so and yet she was a little disenchanted. "It's okay. It's pretty old after all. I mean black-and-white old."

"I actually adore old films. Especially black and white ones," he informed her with pride. Seeing her eyes widening. "You do?" she gasped, not believing someone like him shared one of her interests. It sounded too good to be true. "Me too!"

The obvious excitement on her beaming face made him chuckle. "I don't think I've ever watched this one, though," he smiled then. "Is it good?"

"It's one of my favourite ones so.. I'd say so," she grinned.

"So the screening is on sunday?" he asked to which she nodded. "And what time?"

Cassandra blinked for a moment. Not daring to raise her hopes, even if the implication of his question was more than reason enough. "A-at 6pm."

He hummed, making a thinking expression. "Alright."

Her heart beat faster. "Alright what?"

"Alright I'm coming with you," he grinned. "Sounds interesting."

She had to bite back a smile. Quickly calming herself down as she didn't want to seem needy or foolish. "Really? I mean you don't have to feel sorry for me, you know. If you're busy or-" He shook his head though, interrupting her. "I'm not. I'm meeting my friends on saturday. I'm free on sunday evening. Besides, I do like old films. And I'm curious since this one's your favourite."

"Oh then, that's great!"

"Except if you don't want me to come.." His eyes wandered around in a shy manner before flashing her a boyish grin.

"Well, you know.." she said then, tapping her chin, "I was already mentally prepared to go alone.. I don't know how to feel about someone joining in suddenly. It's confounding my whole plan of being a loner."

His brows rose as he shrugged. "Oh well, then I'm obviously not coming. Don't wanna disturb your plans in any way."

"I could make an exception for you, I guess," she dramatically sighed then, "But only this one time."

"Really?" he faked surprise. "I feel honoured you allow me to accompany you."

"Yeah, see. I'm such a nice person."

Their eyes met and they remained silent for a second before cracking up. Their little improvisations being quite funny to both of them.

"No, seriously I'm glad you're coming and I won't be alone," she awkwardly laughed then, fumbling with her fingers, "I must seem like a total loser for going to the cinema alone, right?"

He shook his head though, giving her a warm smile. "I'd never think of you as a loser."

»»»

"Don't go there, it's obviously a trap," Cassandra mumbled to herself. Eyes glued on the screen in front of her. Dragging a frustrated groan at the predictable consequences when seeing the soon-to-be victim following the unsub. "No, no, you idiot. Don't go." Her voice was almost a whine when a sudden noise made her jump up.

It was a light whimpering, almost cry. She immediately paused the episode of her favourite crime show and got up. Now a clear crying coming from the babyphone. She breathed out in relief, realising it was only Isavella. Not a serial killer trying breaking in. Perhaps watching crime shows alone in the middle of the night hadn't been a great idea after. It was the only time of the day she could catch up her shows in peace though. During the day she was too exhausted and mostly just took care of her daughter. Or napped along with her.

"Did you wake up?" she cooed when entering the bedroom. Stepping to Isavella's crib next to her own bed. "Aw, poor cutie. Let's see. Are you hungry?"

Carefully heaving the baby, she held her high to first check her diaper. No smell. Then it was most likely hunger, she concluded and carried her out. Holding her against her shoulder and rocking her a little in an attempt to calm her down.

"Yes, yes, I know. Just give me a second."

She sat down on her previous spot on the couch and pulled her shirt up. Holding Isavella's little head to her breast. The baby instantly calming down when starting sucking, finally getting fed.

It was one of the things Cassandra loved and yet disliked about being a mother. Obviously the closeness she felt in that moment to her little daughter was an indescripable wonderful feeling. However, it would also be slightly painful -when Isavella was too hungry and eager - and leave the area sore sometimes.

But with her turning six months now, she would soon stop breastfeeding and instead switch to follow-up milk. So in a way, she tried cherishing these last moments as much as she could. Even if they were a little painful at times.

Picking up the remote controller, she pressed play and continued the episode. Figuring out she had a few minutes to kill before Isavella was full.

The music got intenser when the unsub finally got the new victim where they wanted them, eventually kidnapping the man. Cassandra groaned again, looking down at the baby who was happily drinking. "You'll be smarter then this, you hear? You won't follow some strange noises."

Isavella let go and made a bubbly noise before getting back to drinking. Making Cassandra smile. "You agree, right?" The baby continued drinking with puffy cheeks and she focused back on the episode. The scene switching to the FBI agents investigating the case. Soon the baby let go of her mother's breast again, this time not attempting getting back to drinking. Indicating she was done with her meal. Cassandra noticed and pulled her shirt down. Sitting her up straight, "Oh, you're done already?"

Sometimes she felt like a psycho for talking with her all the time. After all, she didn't understand anything. It was like she was talking to herself. But she wanted to believe that Isavella did understand some things after all. Not always, but often. Besides, she didn't have anyone else to talk to but her baby. And she was sure talking to her would have a positive effect to her development. After all, same applied to plants -according to an article she had read once. So if it worked for plants, it should definitely work for babies, too.

Her daughter was staring at her wide-eyes. Expectingly. Her little fingers reaching for her mother. Cassandra smiled as she put a napkin on her shoulder and leaned the baby on it. Lightly patting her back. When she finally burbed, she lowered her onto her chest again. Wiping the saliva from her lips. "Now let's try getting you to sleep again."

However, the look on Isavella's eyes told her she was more interested in the tv. Trying turning her little head to the direction of the voices. Cassandra noticed and contemplated for a moment. The episode had only fifteen more minutes. Maybe she could finish it first before carrying her to bed. "Okay, but only this one. And then sleep," she said in a stern voice and sat Isavella down on her lap. Mother and daughter watching suspensefully how the agents analysed the unsub's behaviour.

Cassandra's favorite character continued talking, making smart conclusions as always. And she gushed all over him again. And Isavella enjoyed the way her mother's thighs went up and down underneath her when being excited. Giggling cutely.

"I should really stop crushing on fictional characters, right?" Cassandra laughed out then, glancing down at her baby who didn't understand her mother's frustration in any way and simply kept staring at the direction of the voices and the changing (and blurry to her) images. "Right, right. There's no harm to it. And it's not like there'd be anyo-" She paused, cutting herself mid-sentence while the people on the screen continued their discussion.

For some reason Taehyung popped up in her mind and their plan of going to the movies the following day. And the way his lips tucked into a lovely, almost childish grin when he laughed. And usually she would say this didn't have to mean much, since her crime shows had taught her even serial killers could seem like very charming people.

She was curious to see if her gut feeling would be proven to be true when it came to him after all.

»»»

next chapter: 0.8 here

[triviareads]

ARC Review of The Duchess by Sophie Jordan

Rating: 3.5/5 Heat Level: 3/5 Publication Date: March 26th

Premise:

Valencia is a widowed duchess who is finally free to do as she pleases. The new heir to the dukedom is finally found and it turns out to be Rhian, a Welsh businessman Valencia finds herself inconveniently attracted to. In exchange for helping Rhian's sisters navigate the ton, Rhian agrees to give Valencia financial security and the freedom to leave.

My review:

This was low-heat and relatively short (218 pages) as far as historical romances go. Valencia is in her early thirties, a popular matron of the ton, and finally free to be as merry a widow as she pleases now that her husband is dead. Sophie Jordan has not shied away from writing HORRIFICALLY shitty husbands in her Scandalous Ladies of London series, and the late Dedham haunts Valencia for much of the book. What I found particularly poignant was the rightful blame Valencia placed on not only her husband for his various abuses, but also her father for not protected her when he held all the power to decide her future and her marriage. It feels very real for the time period and drives home the point just how much power men held back in the day.

And Valencia isn't perfect; she's a bit of a snob when it come's to Rhian's countrified sisters initially, and she spends most of the book antagonizing her stepmother Hazel, who is actually younger than Valencia, and was a sex worker before she married Valencia's father. There are a few chapter's in Hazel's POV, and by the end of The Duchess, her romance is set up and Valencia finally begins to realize her hatred is unfounded.

I think where the book fell short of my expectations was with the hero Rhian, and his chemistry with Valencia. Rhian is big, Welsh, a competent businessman (a Rhys Winterborne type superficially, but he doesn't go as hard as Rhys lol), and initially hates that he's attracted to Valencia. But that hatred feels pretty tepid all things considered, and while I could see where that "hatred" morphed into grudging respect, I really could not make out where their attraction, and even their love began. It felt like there was no good reason, apart from base attraction and the low bar of Rhian willing to listen to and support Valencia while her late husband and the men around her never did.

Here's my thing: like I said in my review of the first book in this series, The Countess (see here), a friendship between a bunch of popular, disenchanted older women as a concept is fun, but so far both heroines have spent most of their books quite miserable, and the romantic and sexual payoff with their heroes has been middling at best.

The sex:

There were 1.5 sex scenes in this book. I say .5 because one was vaguely described in a paragraph and mostly glossed over. There is a *mounting* moment in this book, which I did appreciate, but otherwise the sex scenes were... underwhelming. I'm starting to feel like this is a pattern for this series.

Overall:

Like I said earlier, if low-heat, short historical romances with family and marital drama are your jam, you'll enjoy this book. I for one am quite curious about the next book in this series, which features Valencia's stepmom Hazel, who is put in a predicament very similar to Jayne in Lorraine Heath's Waking Up With the Duke...

Thank you to Avon and Harper Voyager and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for my review.

[astronnova]

I just wanted to gush about how much I looooove your team rwby designs. I’m so disenchanted with the show but I can never let it go because every time I see some great au art and designs that speak to beacon era I go crazy!! Weiss and Blake’s outfits especially go crazy I love the pants on Blake and the red on Weiss’s coat and how thin her ponytail is. I hate the braid I hate it I love Weiss with long, sleek, thin hair (or a bob or pixie cut). And I love the body type variety you gave the team they all just look so wonderful and the designs truly speak to the spirit of their original designs. Thank you for creating art and sharing it!!

WAH!!!! WAAAH!!!!! WOW!!! thank you so much!!!!!! this means a lot to me haha :,DD <33

honestly i've lost that lovely spark that the show gave me way back when, i feel you, but its so weirdly difficult to let rwby go. hbomberguy said it best, the show teases you with genuinely good moments and then nose dives back into the swamp. the beacon era is my fav era, i loved the battle school trope when i first go into rwby and i was excited to see all the school related adventures that would happen only for uh. v4+ to happennn.... yaaaaaaaay

i did my best designing those outfits to stick to the red, white, black, and yellow concept that the first outfits were designed with. those outfits were PEAK and i wanted 2 try and follow them up in a nice way. i was trying to think of how i could make my designs feel kinda like a natural progression from the first ones? and some of the choices ended up being things like "ruby wears a shirt and a dress instead of a one piece dress" and "blake wears bellbottoms now", while other choices had more thought like weiss switching to wearing more business-themed attire instead of princess-y things to show she's distancing herself from the status the schnee name brings. yang is uh. yang. yang's hard to design for especially cus her first outfit is booty butt bad

i'm so happy you noticed the different body types!!! i wanted ruby to feel more round and plump especially becus of her shorter height. round makes her friendly :) . also since she's related to yang, i wanted them to have similar body types. only difference is yang is more shredded. and tall HAHA. both yang and ruby are meant to be on the thicker side of athletic. blake is lanky, cus to me that feels cat like, and she also has wider hips. weiss is also lanky but in an overall super skinny way. she's got that ice skater build.

also YES haha i absolutely hate weiss' braid. its ugly, it makes no sense, and it's modeled terribly!!!!! weiss looks best with the long, thin, ponytail or with shorter cut hair!! absolutely!!! (i have her hair get cut in my own au :3 !!)

its such high praise hearing you think my designs shape up to the original's spirit. thats so sweet of you <33333 thank u so much!!!!

[frozenwolftemplar]

All my meticulous planning paid off and I was actually able to watch ‘Disenchanted’ in full this weekend! After being hyped for this movie for months, I am ready to pass judgment. 

THE VERDICT:

I came in wanting only a fun movie that didn’t sour the original, and I got a fun movie that didn’t sour the original, hence I am happy. 😊

Rotten Tomatoes can take a hike.

Really though, I did enjoy it. Was it as good as the first? No, but to be fair the first is an untouchable classic and any follow-up would have to be content with second place. However, the songs were still good, if not as catchy as the ones in the first (and not as good as Alan Menken’s best work, i.e. ‘Tangled the Series,’ watch ‘Tangled the Series.’), the story was sweet (I was so relieved to see Giselle hadn’t grown jaded or anything by the real world and was still her sunshine-y self), and all the visual re-staging of iconic Disney Princess moments were a blast (not gonna lie, I screamed out-loud at the exterior of Morgan’s fairytale window being exactly like Rapunzel’s in the tower!!!). For me, that’s enough to dub it a good movie.

Plus Idina was awesome.