#one of her defining personality traits is that she can be really selfish

[slicznymartwy]

stand by your man

You’re not sure how much time passes, but it’s certainly been long enough for your selfish cat to have had its snack and returned.

tags: first meetings, cannibalism, thomas hewitt wears a face in this one guys, canon-typical violence, misogyny, slut shaming, fluff and angst, ambiguous/open ending, i mean to me its happy but yk, bad guys win sort of ending notes: second person pov – cis fem reader with some defined traits (tall, midsized, long hair). everything else is up to interpretation. i'm sorry if this fic seems really cruel towards thomas :( i love him i promise

read on ao3

Humid felt like an understatement on a day like today. Walking inside your little wooden shack felt like swimming in pond water, thick and stagnant. The morning wasn’t so bad but, before lunchtime, you had thrown open every window on the chance that a breeze would sweep through, even if it was only for a moment.

But there’s no wind today, which leads you and your old orange cat sitting like panting dogs out on the front porch. Your stomach growls, but you can’t imagine getting up and cooking for yourself like this. You want some soda fountain ice cream, but downtown is a long walk and the drugstore has been closed down for a few months anyhow.

Groaning, you roll onto your side and daydream about frothy root beer floats. You’re so deep in your fantasy that you hardly notice when your cat scrambles onto her feet, faster than summer lightning, and books it out the dusty yard on the heels of a field mouse.

“Goddamn it, Peanut,” you say to nobody, watching her go with a disappointed sigh. She must’ve been starving to run like that in this heat. You watch her go and go until she runs into the grass. Then you don’t see her at all.

You’re not sure how much time passes, but it’s certainly been long enough for your selfish cat to have had its snack and returned.

“Peanut?” you call out, sitting up. She’s nowhere to be seen, not even in the shady live oak a stone’s throw from the house. You stand up and walk out towards the grass, feet burning on the sun-exposed dust.

“Here, kitty kitty!” you call out, looking for movement in the fields. There is none, so you cup your mouth and try again, louder. “Here, kitty kitty! C’mere, Peanut!”

Nothing but the buzzing bugs.

Your little housecat wasn’t made for the Texan wilderness. She was getting old and preferred to spend her days napping in whatever spot was the coolest.

Wading into the tall grass, you almost want to forget about ever having a cat, but you know you could never. You love Peanut, even if she gets on your nerves.

The fields are droning with critters that you can’t even see. It’s like they’re all complaining about the heat, and you find yourself agreeing with them. You wish you had grabbed some shoes before heading out, but you’re already this far – besides, if you return home now, you’re sure you won’t want to keep looking.

You don’t know how long you walk, but the sun is high over your head when you find an old wooden fence. Trees line the property on the other side, and it sure is tempting to hide under those pretty green leaves for a while, but you’re getting more worried the longer you look for your cat. Maybe a dog or a snake got to her first.

You hop up onto the fence and swing a leg over, then the other. Standing on the bottom rung, you hold onto the post for balance. Cupping your mouth with your free hand, you shout out into the field, “Peanut!”

Thomas was bored.

They had guests two days ago, but Thomas was already finished separating meat from bone and cartilage. Before that, it had been almost two weeks since their last visitors, and he thinks he got a little too excited at the prospect of getting to butcher something.

They weren’t even handsome enough to keep. The whole thing felt like a waste.

It’s a hot day, but Thomas doesn’t mind it. It not much, but walking in the shade at least gets the sun off of him. The oaks circle their home, and he can walk in on one end and come out on the other, pretty much in the same place. He’s curious today, though.

No meat at home. He might as well walk as far as his legs will take him.

The leaves sway and rustle together quietly when the wind comes by, but even then the air feels thick. Thomas trudges along, looking for something he doesn’t know about yet. There’s movement in the brush, but he can see it’s just a fat orange cat. It bolts when Thomas stomps past it, running into a clearing of tall grass. Thomas keeps on going, searching.

Hearing a shout, he knows he’s found it.

The noise was far, but not too far to walk towards. The sound keeps repeating, and it’s a female sounding voice; today’s his lucky day since he didn’t bring anything with him. She might go kicking and screaming, but it shouldn’t be too hard to throw an unsuspecting woman over his shoulder and carry her to the basement.

Reaching the tree line, the brush and the tree limbs part to reveal you.

Tall and full bodied, he sees your legs first. They’re pressed together as you stand on his fence, and your dress rides up as you bend forward at the waist.

“Peanut!” you yell, and he realizes it’s what you’ve been yelling the whole time. You curse under your breath and wipe at your forehead. Your hair is long and it’s loose, falling down your back past your shoulders. You’re sweaty and you don’t wear any shoes. Thomas watches your curiously.

You must have given up on whatever you were doing, because you step down from the fence and lean on it, putting your forehead on your folded arms. Thomas stares. You don’t look like the usual kind of guest.

Guests were usually tourists, and although Thomas couldn’t place you, he could tell that you were local. You wore a house dress like Momma, and you didn’t wear shoes outside. You were a Texas girl, Thomas realized.

He’s not sure the last time he met a real Texas girl. Probably not since he stopped going to the doctor in town, and that was when he was still a little kid.

Thomas was torn. He’s never killed townsfolk before. Meat is meat, the annoying little Charlie in his head hollered at him, but his Momma was in there too, telling him that there wasn’t anything left of their town. Shouldn’t he try to keep their town alive? Wouldn’t that make Momma happy?

He’s still debating with himself when you turn around and startle. He’s expecting you to scream and run away from him, but you don’t. You close your eyes, cover your chest, and sigh heavily.

“I am so sorry, mister. I thought it was just me and the June bugs out here today,” you say, opening your eyes again.

You smile at him, and Thomas feels like someone’s nailed his feet to the dirt. You watch Thomas as he watches you. Your smile falls a little bit, and Thomas knows why. He was expecting it, anyways.

“I’m sorry if I’m trespassing, mister, really. It’s just that I live out that way and my cat ran away this morning. I’ve been looking everywhere for her, I thought I could get a better look of the field from up on the fence,” you explain, gesturing behind yourself as you talk. Thomas likes the way your hair moves when you turn, and even though it’s wet with sweat, Thomas's fingers itch to stroke it out of your face.

He's no genius, but he can tell you’re worried. You’re making the same worried face Uncle Monty makes when Uncle Charlie was yelling at him. He was gonna walk anyways, he tells himself, as he gestures for you to follow him.

You look surprised, but you hurry to his side as Thomas starts striding through the trees. You sigh once you’re in the shade.

“Hell of a day, today. Even the shade is hot enough to fry an egg,” you say, walking behind him. You were taller than the other girls that came around here, but still only came up to his chin. He wasn’t gonna bother waiting for you to catch up, one way or another, and strode forward.

Your daddy always used to say that you could talk a gate off its hinges, but walking with this enormous stranger, you found yourself all out of words.

He cut a massive and daunting figure, especially with that dark mask covering his nose and mouth. His clothes were dirty, with brownish reddish stains covering him and his butcher’s apron. His dark curls were unruly and stuck together from sweat underneath the straps and buckles of his muzzle.

There was no better word for what he looked like than mean, but that never scared you off before. Your grandpa was a mean-looking man too, but he was also the sweetest man you’d ever known. You just wished the guy would talk to you too, that’s all. Maybe that would make the twisty nerves in your stomach go away.

Just as your mind starts getting creative about where the stranger could be taking you, he continues past the tree shade to an open field. The grass is still tall here, but it makes rolling waves on top of mounds of dirt.

“Guess here’s a good place to look,” you say, and you trudge forward in the tall grass. The dirt is cool between your toes, and you make little clinking noises with your tongue, interrupted by the occasional, “here, kitty.”

Thomas leaves your side to look on his own. The grass here is thick, and the holes make for some nice shade. Probably pretty nice for a little critter looking to get out of the heat.

You’re bent over, inspecting one of the holes, when you hear a familiar grumpy meow. You shoot back up, glancing down in the tall grass before your eyes land on the masked giant. In his arms is your fat orange cat, looking very displeased about being out in the sunshine.

“Peanut! You found Peanut!” you cry, jumping for joy before running to his side. The man stands there, frozen in place, while you take the cat from his arms and kiss her little forehead.

“Naughty girl, running away from home like that,” you scold, patting the spot above her tail like a faux spank. It barely even lands on her, but she still meows in annoyance. You laugh a little bit and look up at the man who’s already looking at you. Your smile softens as relief makes way for gratitude.

“Thank you, mister. You’ve got no idea how much this little guy means to me. How can I repay you?” you ask, holding on tighter to your cat so she can’t jump from your arms.

He doesn’t answer. You bite your lip.

“You free tomorrow?” you change your question. The man pauses before nodding. “Meet me by the fence again, okay? Same time as today.” The man watches you blankly, but the fact that he’s helped you already puts you more at ease. You smile at him and nod with a sense of finality.

��Thanks again. I’m gonna get out of your hair now.” He stands in the sun, and as you retreat back to the shade for your journey home, you can feel his eyes on you until you’re hidden by the trees.

“He seems nice,” you say to Peanut, who cries out pitifully at being carried. It’s gonna be a long walk home, you realize, as she squirms in your arms to break free again.

Thomas isn’t stupid, no matter what people like to say about him. All things considered, though, he feels pretty stupid standing behind the oak tree nearest to your meeting spot by the fence.

He knew you were coming this time. He could have brought his chainsaw, and if that was too heavy, he could have easily grabbed a hammer or his hook. He could’ve even kept them in his pocket, if he wanted to keep his hands free for the hour long journey.

Instead, he stood weaponless behind a tree, nervous to see you again.

His heartbeat races when he hears footsteps coming from the other side of the fence. He’s finally made up his mind to turn around and leave when you finally spot him. He sees a flash of your smile before forcing his eyes to the dirt.

“Hi, mister,” you say, and just like yesterday, his feet don’t really work. “Sorry if I’m a little late, it’s only ‘cuz I was pulling this out the oven.” He looks over at you and sees the brown basket in your arms, a plaid napkin covering whatever was inside.

Thomas nears you, noticing how your long hair was pulled away from your face into a braid that disappeared behind your back. You wore the same dress, but Thomas liked the way it looked on you. It clung to your chest and loosened around your hips, but the material was thin enough that it stuck to your sweaty legs just slightly.

His attention was forced back to the basket when you put it against his chest. With an empty brain, he grabbed it with both hands from the bottom.

“It’s water pie. My nana used to make it during the Great Depression. Kinda feels like that again nowadays, huh?” you say.

You smile as you say it, but it doesn’t feel like your big smiles, like the kind you gave him when he found your cat, or like how you smiled when you saw him behind the tree.

Thomas opens the napkin to see a still warm pie in the basket, glossy with a mix of white and yellow. He’s never heard of water pie, but Momma didn’t get the chance to make a lot of desserts these days.

He walks to the shady tree, wiping a hand on his apron, and sits heavily with his back to the tree. He has to look over his shoulder to find you, and you’re still standing by the fence.

Annoyed that you’re so far away, he quickly gestures for you to join him.

You give him one of your real big smiles and jump over the fence before sitting next to him, back also to the tree. He watches you take a dull butter knife from the basket and slice the pie up. You look up at him, and he looks down at you.

“Do you eat with that on?” you ask.

Thomas shakes his head. He keeps staring at her.

“Wanna take it off?” you ask next.

Thomas shakes his head again on instinct, but once he stops, he takes another look at the pie. He remembers it being warm still. His head nods once, the movement miniscule like he doesn’t want to admit it.

“I’ll look away if it makes you feel better. Swear I won’t look,” you say. Thomas breathes weird and turns away from her before reaching up to take it off.

You hear the buckles being undone and take it as your cue to turn away from the man.

It’s another hot day today, but you wouldn’t have missed your impromptu visit even if the fields were burning. Sure, the man might be odd, but he was mysterious as all get out and you longed to know more about him. It felt a little bit like you were a school girl again, crushing on a cute boy from your class, but it didn’t matter; you promised him repayment, and you always tried your hardest to make good on your word.

You reach behind yourself blindly for a piece from the basket and accidently brush against his hand.

“Oops, I’m sorry,” you say with a little laugh, eyes trained ahead at the fence.

He takes a piece, then you take the slice next to his.

The filling is sticky and gooey, but it stuck together solid when you picked it up. You eat it slowly, savoring the memories that came with the taste, as well as the gentle breeze that picks up under the leaves.

You debate with yourself for some time about grabbing another slice but, figuring he probably wasn’t looking your way, you reach behind yourself and touch the ceramic pie dish instead. You run your hand in a circle and all you feel are crumbs.

“Well gee, mister, I’d’ve made two if I knew you’d be so hungry!” you said cheerfully, grinning as you brought your finger up to your mouth to lick it clean. It wasn’t exactly true, since you barely had the ingredients for one, but he probably already knew that, the town being in the state that it is. “I’m glad you liked it. An empty pie dish is a great compliment.”

You can hear the buckles of his mask again and keep busy by reaching for the basket behind you, folding the napkin back up. It’s pleasantly quiet before the question that’s been at the tip of your tongue since meeting the man finally springs out.

“What’s your name, mister?” you ask, still not looking at him. He doesn’t respond, and you risk glancing back at him. His mask is on, but he doesn’t look at you. It occurs to you that maybe the guy just can’t talk.

Opening the napkin again, you take out the knife and use the rounded tip to write in the dirt. It’s awkward and it’s none too pretty, but your name is clear enough to read. You look to him with a smile and hold the knife out to him, handle first.

He looks between the knife and your name on the ground before carefully taking it from your hand. You already knew his hands were massive but seeing the difference so plainly before your eyes made you blush. Tearing your gaze away from his appendages, you watch the dirt instead as he spells his name out. He writes it thickly, his muscles gouging out the dirt easily with a dull rounded tip. Thomas.

You glance up at him, and when your eyes meet, it feels like electricity.

“It’s nice to meet you, Thomas,” you say. You don’t expect an answer, but he nods anyways.

The sun was past its peak when you finally stood, brushing off your dress. Thomas met you at the fence after you had jumped over it again, basket swinging on your arm. You asked him if he could meet again tomorrow, promising another dessert.

He told himself to say no. He couldn’t picture hurting you the way he did when he first saw you, but he knew this wouldn’t be any good. He’s not the type to make friends, especially not with pretty ladies. It must be his heart controlling his neck muscles because he nodded instead. At least he got to see that smile again.

And so, he met with you again. And then again the day after. Then even the day after that one.

It was only a matter of time before his uncles and Momma realize he’s been out of the house for most of the day, but only Charlie says something about it during their family dinner. He’s loud in Thomas’ ear, and Thomas keeps his head down avoid looking at him. It makes him feel better to call him Charlie in his head. Not Hoyt. Just stupid drunk Charlie.

“You better focus on your work, boy,” Charlie threatens, steak knife pointing at him from across the table.

Thomas goes down to meet you the next day, anyways.

“Hi, Tommy,” you chirp happily, straddling the fence before hopping onto the other side. Thomas liked that you started calling him that, but he doesn’t let himself show it.

He rubs his hands on his apron to get the nerves out of his system and gives a little wave with his first free hand. You don’t have a basket today, but Thomas doesn’t mind. He’s just glad to see you.

“How’s your day treating you so far?” you ask, like you always do. Thomas shrugs, like he always does too. “Peanut misses you, I think. She wants to come with me, but always stops on the porch.”

Thomas thinks about the orange cat again. He wants to tell her that it probably just misses you, since it had been glaring at Thomas from your arms that day. Instead, he just tilts his head at you, not knowing how to gesture all that with his arms.

It’s easy to listen to you. Even when you leave open ended questions, you don’t make Thomas feel pressured to respond. He’d long since given up on pantomiming since he was a teenager, but people still annoyingly waited for his responses. You talked to him like he was an adult, and you never complained about having to deal with him.

You’re talking now, something about Peanut pushing things off counters, and all Thomas can feel is gladness. It’s been a long time since he felt it so strongly, so innocently. He kind of feels like a little kid again, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you under the shady tree in the summertime.

When he touches your hand, you cut yourself off and look up at him. It startles him a little bit, because he realizes that he had nothing he really wanted to tell you. He just wanted to touch you.

“You doing okay?” you ask him, putting your other hand on top of his. Thomas looks down at your hands and nods. He’s doing better than okay. He wants to keep feeling your soft skin on his hand.

“You sure? Looks like somethings on your mind,” you say, sounding sorry. Thomas struggles with how to tell you, which he’s sure you notice. He suddenly takes your hand in his and flips it so that your palm is facing up and your smooth delicate wrist is visible. With his calloused dirty finger, he starts to spell.

“What are you doing?” you say, standing a little straighter and watching how he made the same shape again and again. “Are you… is that a K?”

Thomas nods quickly, looking at you for a split second before focusing down again and drawing a straight line.

“That’s an I. K-I…” you look at him attentively as he gathers his courage. He writes the next two letters quickly in succession. He does it once more before you look up at him, your pretty eyes wide and shinning. “S-S. Kiss.”

Thomas is sure his face is flushed, but he nods. There’s no backing out of it now.

“Oh, Tommy,” you say, and your confusion melts into a smile. “Of course, I’ll kiss you.”

He’s still hunched over from writing on your arm, so the hand you put on his cheek doesn’t have to work much to guide him towards your lips. You’re ready to lean in when your lip brushes against his mask. You laugh softly, running your hand down from his hair to stroke along his covered cheek.

“Can you take this off?” you ask softly.

Thomas shakes his head quickly, covering your hand with his as if you might try to rip it off of him anyways. He knows you wouldn’t, but he can’t think about risking it. Not when you’re so close.

You bite your lip as you think. His own lips move under the mask, imaging what it would be like to touch yours with his. He wishes he was normal. He wishes he had one of his real masks on.

You guide him down lower and tilt your face higher up, and Thomas can feel your lips on his forehead. His eyes close instinctually. He trusts you.

You kiss the spot between his eyebrows next, and he sighs shakily. His hands move your waist, holding you gently.

Then, you kiss the bridge of his nose, and your bottom lips must brush against the edge of his mask. His stomach turns at himself, but he pushes the feeling away.

Your lips follow along the edge of the mask, kissing on the little bit of skin showing under his left eye. When you kiss his temple, your hand moves to cup the back of his head and he shudders.

“I hope you’ll trust me enough, one day,” you say softly, and he practically bends in half to hide his face in your neck. He doesn’t cry, but his throat feels tight like he might. He swallows it all back. He shakes his head softly in the crook of your shoulder, wishing he could correct you. He would bare himself to you completely today if he didn’t think you would run screaming. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to handle that.

Your hands are a soft but persistent pressure on his shoulders. When he straightens up again, he looks down at you.

You lean up suddenly, lip slotting against his mask. Your top lip brushes between his. You taste like sugar and summer air. The kiss is done quickly, but Thomas can’t open his eyes yet. He licks his lips where yours just touched him and commits the taste to memory.

“You still in there?” you ask after a long moment, and Thomas opens his eyes to see you smiling playfully at him.

Thomas smiles when he nods, and stops nodding when you lean in to kiss him again.

He’s never felt so light in his life, having said goodbye to you at the fence after another hour of listening. You even kissed him goodbye, lips touching briefly through the mask as you stood on opposite sides of the fence.

Thomas promised you tomorrow, nodding at your request to see each other again.

His good mood lasts until he gets close enough to the house to hear shouting. He sees Charlie flailing his arms like a mad man by the back of the house, yelling Thomas’s name.

“Where in the ever-loving fuck have you been?” he shouted by the garage, spit flying. Thomas hurried his gait as he neared them. Charlie was bleeding from a wound on his forehead. He steeled himself for what the furious man would sling at him next. “I’ve been screaming for you for the past fucking two hours. Jesus fucking Christ, Thomas! You know, I defend you when people call you names, but maybe you are slow. Just how fucking gone are you up there, huh?!”

Thomas glares at the dirt, imagines pushing his thumbs into Charlie’s eyes until he can’t scream anymore.

“I can’t even look at you, you fucking disappointment. I brought home two stupid as fuck tree-humpers for you, and this is how you repay me? Look at what they did to me. Look!” he grabs Thomas’ apron and shakes him, and Charlie makes him look at the cut on his head. It’s nothing, Thomas has seen him give himself worse when he’s drunk.

“Go get your toy and mow those fuckers down. They’re not getting far, not after what I done to one of them,” he mutters, looking down the dirt road where Thomas can see the distant figures of two limping people. Sighing, Thomas takes off after them, grabbing a hammer from one of the junk piles by the garage.

He didn’t think about you until well into the early morning. He is taking a break from his work, sitting outside while the rest of the family slept in their bedrooms. Blood coated his apron, and he sat on the wide porch with a heavy sigh. He thought about you, wondered how someone so nice could ever want somebody like him.

Thomas was not stupid. He knew murdering people was wrong, just like he knew he was wrong for liking it so much. And he knew he was wrong for liking you.

Rubbing his new face with both hands, he hauled himself up to walk back to the basement. He readjusted the eyeholes as he walked – he had made them too small this time. He’d have to fix that before he did anything else.

Thomas is only one step away from the trees when Charlie hollers his name from the back porch. Thomas sets his jaw and looks over his shoulder to see his uncle gesturing and shouting at him. He can’t make sense of what he’s saying, and he doesn’t really care to. He doesn’t let up, though, so Thomas forces himself to turn back around and trudge back to the house.

He stands in front of Charlie silently.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demands. Thomas has no way of answering, even if he wanted to. His arms cross thickly over his chest instead.

Charlie glowers at him, and Thomas’ stare is just as dark.

“You listen to me, boy. Now, I’m sorry for what I said yesterday, but I think I had good reason to be cross with you. Your family needs you here, Thomas. We need you to keep us safe. What if something happened to your momma?”

Thomas’ eyes glance at the house, where he knew his momma was resting comfortably. Still, the thought unnerved him. Looking back at Charlie, he sees the self-satisfied look on his face, like he knows he won.

“Be a good guard dog and guard the fucking house. Please.”

Thomas’ jaw tightened. He thought about you, walking from your home to see him. Thought about what you might’ve brought, although he wouldn’t care either way as long as you were there. But Charlie had a point. What if Charlie brought guests and they tried to hurt one of them? What if they hurt Momma?

A frustrated noise left his throat and he stomped away from Charlie back to his basement. He couldn’t think straight. The damn sun shined too brightly, and it made his head hurt. Slamming the door to the basement shut, he welcomes the darkness and sets his sights on his unfinished projects.

He only rises from his basement when the sun starts to set. A walk through the house tells Thomas he’s alone, the other members dispersing to be on their own too.

He’d been sad, passing the time while thinking about you getting stood up. Sadness in his chest, he walked to the fence anyways. He might feel better if he could just look at it and imagine how you look in your pretty dress.

At the end of his trek, he freezes as he passes the last low hanging branch. There you are, laying unconscious by the oak tree. He rushes to your side and hesitates helplessly before kneeling next to you. He holds onto your shoulders and tries to shake you awake, harsher and harsher as you don’t wake up. He’s beginning to panic when you suddenly open your eyes with a gasp. You stare up at Thomas with wide eyes. They shine in the white Texan moonlight.

“Thomas?” you whisper.

“What time is it?”  You sit up and Thomas stays next to you, arms awkwardly hovering around you like you might fall asleep again. He’s breathing hard like he’s been running. “Is it nighttime already?”

Thomas nods, sighing finally once he catches his breath. Head low, he touches your arm and drags his hand down past your elbow to catch your hand. His brows are drawn, and despite his size, he seems to shrink as he clutches you like something delicate that might blow out of his hold.

He looks up when you touch his chin, gently guiding him to meet your eye.

“You okay? Did something happen?” you ask him. Thomas just shakes his head, squeezing your hand in his. He carefully turns your arm over, revealing your wrist. There, he writes down four letters. S-O-R-Y.

“Sorry? Oh, bubba, you don’t have to be sorry,” you murmur, smiling at him. “I needed a little nap, anyways. C’mere.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a little hug. He melts into you, forehead pressed against the crook of your neck.

“Sweet boy,” you murmur, hand rubbing down his spine. “It’s okay. You’re alright.”

“I should start on back,” you say after a few silent moments, your hand still rubbing comforting circles on his back. Thomas stiffens and pulls away, and he won’t meet your gaze. You don’t want to part from him tonight, you realize.

When he glances at you, you’re biting your lip.

“Unless you know somewhere we can spend the night?” you suggest softly. Thomas’s face is blank as he thinks about it, but he soon stands up and holds a hand out for you. You take it and he hauls you up, leading the way through the trees. You like how he holds your hand, all encompassing and pleasantly warm in the breezy night air.

He brings you to a barn, standing alone in an empty field. It looks out of use, but bales of hay still line some of the walls, as well as some common tools for the land. You don’t bother looking around too much – you only have eyes for your Tommy. He stands in the barn, looking around for the best spot to lay down. You know it’s wherever he is, his wide chest looks like it’ll be a softer pillow than what you have at home.

“Tommy, c’mere,” you say, finding a bed of dry hay that looks cleaner than the rest. You sit down first, laying back in the rustling fodder. Your eyes meet his as you stretch your arms above your head.

Thomas stands above you. His eyes are dark.

“Lay down with me,” you speak softly. Thomas glances out the open barn doors for a moment before giving up on whatever battle was going on through his mind. You watch him unfasten his dirty apron and hang it off one of the half stables beside them. He lays down beside you, his heavy weight making the pile unsteady. You fall into him with a little laugh, a steadying hand on his chest.

“Oops,” you say with a little smile. You’re surprised to see Thomas return it. He has such a handsome smile; you wish he would smile more for you.

Leaning up, you kiss him through his mask, hands coming up to hold his face.

He exhales heavily, it almost sounds like a moan. He tries to kiss you back, but it’s impossible through the thick leather. Sighing  softly, you kiss his temple and forehead instead, trying not to seem too frantic. It’s difficult, though, as you feel your body make you aware just how badly its craving Thomas.

“Please, Tommy. Please. I wanna kiss you. Please take it off,” you whisper, lips brushing against his tanned skin.

Thomas goes stiff hearing his pleas and pulls away. You watch him go with a pout. He turns away from you slightly.

“Thomas,” you say softly. He turns away further. Sighing quietly, you touch his shoulder. “Tommy. You know it don’t matter to me how you look. Not one bit. I’m always gonna think you’re my handsome guy.”

Thomas shakes his head, but you don’t give up. Kneeling, you hug him from behind, arms wrapping up to his shoulders from underneath his arms.

“I mean it, Tommy.” You put your forehead on his warm back. “I would never think bad about you. Hell, you could kill someone and I’d find a way to defend you,” you say with a little teasing smile. You feel Thomas put his hand on your forearm, gentle and unmoving.

“I could keep my eyes closed,” you suggest quietly. Thomas turns at that and looks at you with imploring eyes. You smile at him, small and secret, and free an arm to cup his cheek. You kiss the bridge of his nose just above his mask before pulling away.

You sit up and turn away from him partially, eyes closing and hands coming up to cover your eyes. “Ok, Tommy. I’m ready.”

In the dark, you rely on sounds. It’s quiet for a moment, and then you hear the buckle of the mask being undone. You exhale shakily, your heart beating near out of your chest. He must have set it down on the ground beside them because you can feel his hands on you, one on your elbow and the other covering your hands just over your eyes.

You’ve never really been described as small, but you feel it next to him. Even without vision, his presence alone towers over you. It should be intimidating, but it only makes you feel safe.

Your lips part and you drop your hands, letting Thomas touch your face directly. It’s even better since you can now put your hands around his back and hold him close.

Despite his size, he kisses you timidly, like he’s shy you’ll shatter into pieces with too much force applied. His touch is so gentle, even as he crowds you. You kiss him back passionately, encouraging him silently with your enthusiasm. You suddenly long to be naked in front of him, to let him blindfold you and use you however he needs. You know he’d be careful with you if this is how he kisses.

“Tommy,” you murmur between kisses, hands fisting in his shirt. “Tommy, I think I love you.”

Thomas can’t answer you, but he kisses you again and again like he’s saying the same.

Weeks pass. The summer turns into autumn, but the heat doesn’t go anywhere. Thomas can’t meet every day, but he wishes he could. Tourists come by from time to time, and everyone in the family does their part to make ends meet.

You’re all alone out here, he knows from your late-night talks. On evenings where neither of you had anything to do the next morning, you and Thomas would walk together to the barn. You always clung to his arm once the building was in sight, glancing up at him from time to time with your shiny eyes. He’s pretty sure you were both a little nervous everytime, but it was a good kind of nervous. He didn’t know there could be a good kind until he met you.

Thomas holds you on the hay pile, more comfortable now with a blanket you brought from home thrown over the mound. You’re naked, and Thomas likes your soft cool skin against his own. Although you’re both covered in sweat, the night is cool and comfortable, and Thomas likes the way you rub your hand slowly across his chest.

When your stomach growls, Thomas glances at you.

“Sorry,” you say. You smile, but it looks sad. “Just hungry. It’s been hard finding stuff to eat with the town being empty.” He knows the feeling well.

He takes your arm from where it’s resting on his stomach and gently twists your wrist towards himself. H-O-M-E, he spells.

“Mine?” you ask softly, head cocking to the side.

Thomas shakes his head and points to himself.

“Yours? What about it?” you ask softly, looking up from your wrist.

F-O-O-D, he spells next. Your eyes go wide.

“Oh, Tommy. You’re too kind to me,” you say softly, and Tommy lets go of your arm so that you can hug him.

His arms instinctually go around your waist, holding you close. He wants to tell you that he’s not just being kind. He would give everything he owns to you if what he owned was worth giving. He kicks himself mentally for not thinking about getting you some food sooner, though.

“Can we go tomorrow?” you ask. He wants to bring you there today, but there won’t be any food this late. He nods, hands running down your back slowly. He can feel his rough callouses catch on your smooth skin, but you don’t flinch or move away. You never have from him. He wants you, more than he wants to butcher, more than he wants to help his family.

“I should go home,” you say. The sky is dark, but the moon is large and bright in the sky, like the sun. Thomas shakes his head.

“No?” you say, laughing a little bit. You lean back and cup his cheeks over his mask. When you smile down at him, he imagines the touch of your lips against his own. On your back, he draws four letters, S-T-A-Y.

“All night?” you ask, pushing some hair off his forehead.

He nods, eyes stuck to your lips, so close but impossible to reach in that moment.

“Won’t your family be looking for you?” you wonder. You rub your thumb along his eyebrow, soothing him into shutting his eyes.

Thomas shakes his head slightly at the question, not wanting to knock your hands off him. He’s sure Charlie will be mad, but he doesn’t care. How could he when he has you in his arms.

“In that case,” you start, moving your legs apart to straddle his hips, “I suppose I’ve got you all to myself.” Thomas watches you closely as you run your hands down his chest and past his stomach, settling just above his open belt. Neither of you get very much sleep that night.

In the morning, he takes you by the hand as he leads you through the front door. The house is quiet despite its size, which makes it seem like it should be teeming with activity and sound. The outside is grey and dusty, same as the front foyer where you stand beside Thomas. You glance around, giving him a nervous smile when you finally hear footsteps coming from the other room.

“Thomas Hewitt, where have you been all night! You had us worried sick!” an older lady says, coming through the doorway. She’s short and plump, with tendrils of her grey hair framing her face, and her glasses make her look like a schoolteacher. She stops when she sees you, clearly surprised. “Oh! You brought company!”

You smile at her, stepping forward as she comes to meet you. She grins at you and takes your hands in her own.

“Hi, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you,” you say, introducing yourself with your name.

“Oh, the manners on this one! Usually, our guests are a little more ornery!” she says to Thomas, laughing. You don’t understand what she means, but you smile graciously as she tries to lead you back to the room she was in. You start to follow her, but stumble against Thomas as he blocks your way. He shakes his head at her.

“No?” the lady questions. She looks confused, but Thomas shakes his head again. He takes your hands from her, and then you feel his arm around your shoulder, keeping you at his side. “Thomas? What on earth is going on with you?”

You’re just as confused, but you don’t want to get in between a family dispute. You look up at Thomas, waiting to see what he does next.

“Is she why you didn’t come home last night?” the woman asks. A cold sweat blooms on the back of your neck with her face falls completely, turning into a blank mask. You’ve only just met her, but you can hardly recognize her from the woman that took your hands.

“I’m Thomas’ girlfriend,” you say, your voice smaller than you intended. You try to clear your throat politely. “I care about him very much, ma’am.”

You gasp when the woman turns on you, her finger pointed at your face as she snaps, “I don’t know how you tricked my son into falling for your tricks, you whore! Hoyt!” Thomas grunts, and the noise startles you – you’ve never heard the man make a sound louder than a labored breath before. Thomas pushes you behind his back and away from who must be his mother.

“No, I’m not a whore,” you say, but your voice is so meek under her disapproving stare. You clutch onto Thomas’ arm, and you can feel his tense muscles.

Someone stomps down the stairs then, an older man in a sheriff’s uniform. Seeing the pistol on his belt, you start to shake.

“And who do we have here?” the man drawls – Hoyt, your mind supplies,

Thomas shakes his head vigorously and stands in front of you completely now, shielding you from his mother and the Sheriff.

“She says she’s Tommy’s girlfriend!” his mother cries, as if she was grieving. The man barks a laugh at that, loud and unbelieving.

“A girlfriend, Tommy! That’s where you’ve been running off to all these weeks! How much he owe you, trollop? Because he ain’t got no money to give,” the man mocks meanly, guffawing as he tries to walk around Thomas to get a better look. You shrink behind Thomas as he does his best to keep you hidden away. “Bet you found her trying to hitch a ride off the highway.”

“I lived in this town my whole life, sir. I swear I’m no hussy,” you say, voice weak and muffled against Thomas’s back.

“Oh, yeah? That mean you two are in love or something?” he says, managing to grab your forearm and pull you out from behind Thomas. You shout in pain as you’re pulled between the two men, causing Thomas to let go of you. Without your shield, you’re faced with the old man and his drunk breath. You cringe away from him when he leans into you, inspecting you like you’re just a thing.

“Just get her out of here,” Thomas’ mother mourns.

“I ain’t no hussy!” you sob, eyes closed as tears start to escape your lashes. The old man laughs in your face, and he shakes you with his grip on your arm.

“Hear that, Momma? She ain’t no hussy! So, you sleep with Tommy for free?”

“I love him,” you sob, face crumpling as you feel yourself finally break. You wish you understood what you did wrong by these people. Thomas tries to break you and Hoyt apart, but the man shoves him away despite being smaller than him.

“Love? You love him?” Hoyt almost screams with laughter. “Does she even know what you do, Tommy? She ever see you without that mask on?

“Why don’t you go ahead and take it off? Take it off, Thomas! Shouldn’t your girlfriend know what you look like?” he turns you in his arms, forcing you to face Thomas. Your heartbreaks for him, and you see Thomas duck his head down low, arms bent by his stomach as he anxiously fidgets his hands.

“Stop it, leave him alone!” you sob, trying to wrench yourself out of the man’s hold.

“Why? Don’t you wanna see what he looks like? Pretty thing like you should have a handsome boyfriend to go along with it, huh?” Desperate, you look behind you to see Thomas’s mother watching the scene unfold with a handkerchief under her nose. You cry out when the man shakes you again, his grip unforgiving for such an old man.

“You know what? Why don’t we give your girlfriend here a tour, huh Tommy? What do you say?” Hoyt asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer when he starts to drag you out through the front door and down the porch steps.

You stumble down them, almost falling out of the man’s arms, but he forces you upright again before going around to the back of the house. Thomas follows you both, and you can see the frantic way he tries to grab for you but hesitates. Even now, you know your sweet Tommy is afraid to hurt you, but you wish he would rip you out from Hoyt’s grip and stand up for himself.

At the cellar door, Hoyt lets go of one arm to push open the wooden door. You can’t see beyond where the sunlight hits the steps.

“Don’t be shy. Go see,” Hoyt says, before you’re pushed down the steps. You shout as you fall, managing to cover your head with your hands, but your body throbs in pain once you land on the cold concrete below.

You weep at his cruelty, curling in on yourself to hide away from the next blow. Instead, you can hear Thomas’s heavy footsteps down the wooden steps. His thick arms wrap around you, and he holds you tightly to his chest.

“Tommy,” you sob, pushing your face into his chest.

“Tell her, Tommy! Tell her what you do! Share your family pride!” Charlie shouts, laughing at them.

“That’s enough,” Luda Mae says quietly from somewhere behind him.

“Show her who you really are, boy, then see if she loves you,” Charlie says. Then he slams the door to the basement shut, leaving them both in darkness.

“Tommy,” you whimper through your tears, starting to lift your head out from his chest. You’re stopped by Thomas’s large hand cupping the back of your head, keeping you close. You can’t see the room, but it smells like blood and rot, and it makes your stomach churn.

You don’t ask him because he won’t be able to explain anyways. Hoyt’s words echo in your mind, and even if it makes no sense, you can understand that something is wrong here. But Thomas holds you and rocks you like a child until you have no more tears to give.

You wake up when the setting sun turns the sky orange. You rub your eyes and sit up, suddenly aware that you’re in an unfamiliar place. No one is around. Looking around the room, you see it’s a simple bedroom, with threadbare sheets. The only furniture besides your bed is a nightstand and a dresser with a missing drawer.

“Tommy?” you say out loud, but you don’t hear anything in response. You stand up and go downstairs, realizing as you enter the foyer that you’re still at Thomas’s house.

In the kitchen is the same woman from before.

“Oh, hi, darling. I figured you’d wake up soon. I realize I never introduced myself. I’m Tommy’s momma,” she says, like she wasn’t accusing you of something terrible earlier in the day. You smile weakly at her. You want to ask where Tommy is. You want to go home.

“Why don’t you sit down? You missed supper but I’ve got some leftovers still on the stove.”

You hesitate, but finally make your way to the kitchen table. Your stomach growls at the promise of food as you sit.

“Thank you,” you say. “I’m sorry for before.”

“Nonsense. I don’t think any of us understood how much you meant to our Tommy.”

You smile and start to eat when she puts the bowl in front of you.

“Where is Tommy?” you ask, looking up at her.

“Working,” she sighs, smiling at you. “We had guests come by in the afternoon.”

“Like a bed and breakfast?” you ask naively. She laughs at you, right to your face.

“You’re a funny one, girl. I see why Thomas likes you. Pretty and with a good sense of humor.”

You smile, laughing shakily as you eat some of the stew. You can’t tell if it’s pork, beef, or rabbit.

“I want to see Tommy. Where can I find him?” you try again.

“He’s working, sweetheart. He made it very clear he don’t want you in the basement anymore.”

Flashes of the basement make you dizzy, and you shake your head.

“I want to go home,” you whisper, dropping your spoon in the bowl and holding your face with both hands.

She sighs gently and puts her hand on top of your head. She rubs your hair flat gingerly.

“Oh, baby. You are home. Everything’s gonna be alright now. You’ve got us to take care of you.” She lets go of you and gets back to her work from before you came down. “You just let Tommy blow off some steam first. He and Hoyt got into a little fight after he brought you to bed. Nothing for you to worry about.”

You swallow thickly as you look around the grey kitchen. You wonder what kind of work Thomas could be doing in that basement with his guests. You look at the bowl of food in front of you.

You’re so hungry.

© slicznymartwy 2023, please do not repost or copy.

#₊*. ⋆༘ — uli writes #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas brown hewitt #thomas hewitt #slasher x reader #slasher x you #texas chainsaw massacre the beginning #the texas chainsaw massacre #slashers

[cinnbar-bun]

The Outlaw Torn

Pairing: Risotto Nero x GN!Reader

Summary: "The more I search, the more my need for you / The more I bless, the more I bleed for you."

Risotto Nero reflects during a rainy day, all while trying to avoid the way everything reminds him of you.

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~1.3k

Notes: Risotto Nero you will always be famous <3 enjoy some pining Risotto who broods for you. Title based off 'The Outlaw Torn' by Metallica. No spoilers, pre-VA, reader is GN.

AO3 link here!

Napoli during this time of year rains plenty. The smell of the rain against the stone roads makes him pause and inhale deeply. A young child accidentally brushes past him, clinging to her hat as she carries a roll of bread from the nearby bakery. He glances to the other side of the road and notices a businessman holding an umbrella and jogging while he clings to his business papers, some of which were flying behind him. 

Napoli is full of life, even in the rain, something you taught him. Every lesson he learns from you, he keeps close to his heart. He closes his eyes, just letting the rain drench him. A bike bell rings as he feels a draft of air zoom past him. A young boy swears at him in Italian for just standing there, but he does not move or even flinch. 

Napoli is beautiful, but it will never be as beautiful as you. It will never be enough, not in the way you were. 

But he knows why you are not here, by his side, with him, for him. He opens his eyes and looks at his reflection in a window on at a small jewelry store. 

Black sclera… red eyes… those are his most standout and defining traits. You said they were entrancing, that you wanted to look at them for a long time- something he didn’t usually allow. But for you, he could spare the time and have you appreciate his form. 

The jewelers were releasing a new type of ring and diamond cut for the season. A teardrop shape to recognize the rainy season in Napoli. 

Would you like something like that?

His mind wanders briefly before he turns away and continues to walk back to the hideout. 

Patience. Don’t think of such things yet. 

It’s rather selfish, really. It is because of him that you did not get closer to one another. 

Risotto Nero knows better than to let his emotions get the best of him. 

But you, you are an anomaly that ruined him, took parts of him and held it hostage, refusing to give them back. 

He almost wished for you to keep them so you could remember him, at the very least. 

Risotto knows it’s in poor taste to pursue you, after all, what assassin would ever keep a living trace of their existence somewhere? Who would ever allow for someone to get so close to them? Who would allow a piece of their heart to be free outside and possibly get injured as collateral? 

Selfishness, really, is what keeps him thinking about you. If he was the same 18 year old who mercilessly hunted and killed his cousin’s murderer, you wouldn’t even be on his mind. He wouldn’t have ever entertained such a thing. But twenty-something Risotto has admittedly grown softer- perhaps due to a combination of La Squadra and your continued presence in his life. 

He knows you would wait for him forever if he asked. He knows that you love him too deeply, too much for him to ever deserve. He couldn’t have found a more devoted and loyal person in all of Italy if he tried. He knows that and it kills him in more ways than it has any right to. 

But the Risotto in his twenties knows something his younger self would never know.

You shouldn’t be with him. 

You should be free, loved by a man who can offer you safety, comfort, and an easy life that does not put you in danger at every turn. 

Even though every drop of blood in his body rushes for you, even though he would gladly bleed out for you- you don’t deserve his bullshit, he reckons. Even though he yearns to hold you close, prays for a chance to call you his and his alone, he knows it’s for the best you’re not beside him. 

He can’t trust himself around you. You make him want something beyond revenge or money or territory. You’ll be a distraction. 

That’s what he tells himself over and over, because Risotto is a selfish man who only has one thing on his mind- power. 

He’s too good at his job, too good at killing and ending lives for the sake of his mission. And yet, here he is, untrusted by that very same boss who orders him around, no territory to claim for his squad, and hardly any money from the drug trafficking in the streets. It pisses him off that due to his success, he cannot reap the rewards from his completed assassinations. 

If he allowed himself to be swayed by you, he probably wouldn’t mind this arrangement and would continue to do as told. 

But it’s quite a headache, he has to admit. He knows a few of the leaders even live in mansions by the shore or expensive penthouses and can overlook their territory. He has none of those, and it’s apparent with every passing day how little his boss thinks of him and his squad. 

I don’t even need a mansion… I need that villa near the gardens and the shops below. 

That villa has been your dream for a long time. He can remember the first time you absentmindedly pointed it out to him, wistfully sighing as you admitted you wanted it. 

“My dear grandfather was friends with the owner, so we’d visit sometimes. It’s the most beautiful house ever.” 

Risotto hadn’t ever cared about houses or decorations much, but after a curious look around the place at night, he had to agree that it is a nice home. It would be a lovely place to call his own, but more than that, it would have you, and that immediately made everything better. 

Would you be happy in that home? Would you like to walk beside him to the marketplace below? Would you enjoy sitting on the veranda with him while you two drank cappuccinos in the morning? 

These questions and the many what-ifs he would conjure up plagued him like this every day. He didn’t feel the cold rain pour down on him continuously, only thinking of you smiling at him in your shared villa. It was sunny in that dream, warm and loving. He didn’t mind the terrible weather now, even with how it soaked his clothes and chilled his bones. 

He exhales and lets the rain wash over him more before he decides to continue walking back to the hideout. 

He couldn’t see you yet. Not yet… he wasn’t ready. He didn’t have the influence he wanted- needed- to offer you what you deserved. 

The walk to his place is somber and silent as Napoli is sheltered inside warm houses from the rain. He curses himself for encouraging you to stay away. The farther you are, the closer he wants you. The more he tells himself to stop, the more he wants to go. The more he tries to shield himself from these feelings, the more he falls deeper into these desires. 

Just as he is about to cross the street, he glances to your house. It’s right there, a mere block from his hideout. So close, yet so far. He stops in front of your door, unsure if he should take the risk or make such a jump. 

He’s torn, torn between protecting you from his lifestyle and keeping you bound to him as his love. 

He aches for you, desires you, needs you. But he can’t say that without complicating everything. He swallows, ready to turn heel and continue to his home, to La Squadra and his dirty life. 

Yet, for some reason, he finds himself stepping toward your door. It’s as if his body is on autopilot, forcing him, magnetizing him to you again. He sighs and makes a fist, rapping his knuckles against your door. 

…Well… a few moments away from the rain is never a bad idea. Especially in Napoli, where life is beautiful all around.

#x reader #reader insert #jojo vento aureo #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #jjba imagines #risotto nero #risotto nero x reader

[thethiefandtheairbender]

just a disclaimer: i’m queer and nonbinary (afab) as can be, so all of this is from a personally queer perspective? i also know that i don’t tend to really jive with ND stevenson’s work (she-ra didn’t quite work for me) either and if you loved the movie, great. i just gotta drop thoughts somewhere because well

they’re less than positive

like “nimona” wants to be a Queer movie so badly, but the entire humourous basis of the character herself is that she is 1) young looking (despite being immortal) and 2) appears to be AFAB and isn’t it funnily jarring when little girls want to be violent instead of cute and sweet? 

She doesn’t want to be a monster, but clearly genuinely enjoys destroying things (again: basis of the bulk of her character humour, and one of most defining character traits) with no regards to anyone who gets hurt or could get hurt in the process. 

also this is Entirely Personal preference but while the animation was stunning, the contrast in the medieval aesthetic and modern day technology just continually brought me out of the movie. which is too bad, because treasure planet and it’s 70/30 rule and aesthetic blend of old timey and big technology is one of my favourite things ever, but i think Nimona being 50/50 just... didn’t work for me. was also slightly disappointed that i figured out who the actual bad guy was before the queen’s death (and yet another movie with a black queen who Dies Instantly / a movie with literally queer men of colour being technical side characters to a white, allegorically queer main ‘female’ character). 

Ballister is a great protagonist, but due to his opposition of everything Nimona is personality and scheme wise, it feels like they’re almost running around in two separate stories. As well as like - he wanted to enjoy the Elite, Privileged, fighting force? An elite, privileged, entirely based on birthright system ruled by a Black queen before it was called into question, when it’s also a pretty clear allegory for the Police? The fact that this isn’t resolved - what’s going to happen to the Institute, is it going to be reformed or even better yet, disbanded (‘defunded’), is entirely left hanging as a plot thread, which doesn’t happen matters.

Halfway through the movie (specifically Nimona’s “or that sometimes I want to let them [kill me]”) is when I finally started to feel emotionally invested, but like two scenes later when Ambrosius’ stabbing was over dramatic rather than just letting the tone hold, I looked into the camera just... so incredibly unimpressed. The monopoly and shark dancing didn’t help.  

“She’s my friend.” “Aren’t I more than that?” so there were no aspec people in making this film. Got it. And Ballister’s heel face turn into calling Nimona a monster is also very quick, especially when his whole arc this movie is being unfairly demonized himself by the very same thing/people that are demonizing Nimona as well. The sheer harshness and length of the scene is also much longer and given time than him saving her, leaving that feeling kinda lopsided as well.

And Nimona’s issues I think are very evident in the fact the movie lets us see all the damage she’s causing at the end when she loses control, which is sad and tragic for her... but does not excuse or remove the real harm she’s bringing hundreds of other people. This is mitigated when she sacrifices herself to save the city, but given that her problem wasn’t necessarily selfishness so much as recklessness, and given that Ballister had literally just talked her down from suicide, it’s... Muddled to say the least.

And all of this ties back into the murky gender allegory of the movie. At its best, it’s very effective and very emotionally resonant (Nimona’s actual flashbacks and a couple of her conversations with Ballister. I can definitely see why people like it - hell, even I like it. “This monster is a threat to our entire way of life!” “What if we’re wrong?” kinda perfectly encapsulates were it falls flat to me, because queerness Is a threat to our current systems - capitalism, racism, cisheteropatriarchy founded on white gender essentialism. Queerness, particularly of gender, disrupts and should disrupt all those things; it’s a political identity just as much as personal one, both by choice and by societal circumstance.

TLDR; found the second half of the movie, overall, much stronger than the first, but with some bigger structural pitfalls. Animation was gorgeous, sense of humour didn’t overall work for me but that’s a personal thing, queer allegory was good but I would’ve liked some of the implications to be taken farther. I appreciate the movie for what it says about freedom of expression vs demonization by the upper class(es), and I think it’ll really resonant and be important to queer youth in their teens (a stage I am long past) figuring themselves and their place in an increasingly anti-trans political climate out, so I’m very glad it exists. It just wasn’t particularly groundbreaking, and wasn’t particularly up my alley. Which is kind of what I expected, but I am disappointed that I didn’t enjoy it more as a nonbinary person who loves story deconstructions, fantasy, and animation

#nimona critical #nimona spoilers

[rainbow-femme]

Random driving into work thought: If you rewrite them a little, in Encanto the songs of the sisters would work better if you switch them

Because Surface Pressure is about being this emotional anchor for the family who takes on all of this burden and responsibility while pretending it’s easy and not slowly wearing them down, and What Else Can I Do is about having who you are be diluted down to a singular trait that others assign you and don’t want you to deviate from so they never see you as a full person and you never get to see yourself as a full person

Now to me, Isabella’s thing is that while technically her gift is growing flowers, her family role is The Perfect One, and as such she has to conform to what other people decide is perfect. And given how Abuela kinda runs that place with an iron fist, perfect would be whatever she wants. That if Isabella is perfect then she only thinks what she’s told she thinks and she only does what she’s told to do and she seems to be this community symbol for why the Madrigal family is great so she has to forever be this symbol and not a person, including marrying someone she’s told to marry even if she doesn’t want to because saying no would be going against what’s best for the family, which would make her not perfect, and everyone else in the family has to work hard and all anyone ever asks of her is to sit around and be perfect so if she suddenly is “selfish” and not perfect, then what is her purpose?

So I feel like for her, it works having a song about how she’s existing only for everyone else and never has any time or space for anything that doesn’t exist to serve other people and she feels like she’s being slowly crushed by the pressure of being everything that everyone else wants of her all the time because there is this amorphous terrible consequence for the family if she stops doing all of this for them

And Luisa seems to exist only to the family and community as Strong, she is Strong and nothing else, all they do is tell her to go do tasks for them that involve being strong because that is her single point of value and there’s no point listening to her or getting to know her beyond that because she’s just The Strong One

So a song about being tired of being defined by one single trait and instead wanting to explore everything else she can do outside of being strong seems like it would work because no one, including her, knows who she is or what she can do beyond lifting things

Idk I just remember I heard the songs before seeing the movie and thought it was weird that the song about carrying the burdens of the family was given to the person who really just exists to do physical tasks while the song about being defined by one trait was given to the one who from childhood has been forced to exist only in a way that serves the image and needs of the family

#Encanto is one of those movies where I keep feeling like it almost hits for me #but then it will make some decisions that keep it from doing that #like how I also think no one should have had powers when the movie ended #because the powers made so many of them miserable #and losing them made them realize that they are loved and valued regardless and are now free to be whoever they want

[artist-issues]

@mrsjdavis

Hey. So. A post for you.

Points of clarification:

Your sex has an effect on your personality, but it is an immutable objective fact that encompasses more than just your personality or “what is in your pants.”

God determines your role in society, and He uses the sex He made you as one of the defining ways to tell you that role. There are certainly broader variations between individuals, but that doesn’t change the fact that, although all men and all women are created with levels of aggression and levels of gentleness, God tells each how to use those traits depending on their sex. The gentlest man in the world should be able to put that trait aside when someone needs protecting. The most aggressive and decisive woman in the world should be able to put those traits aside and follow if she’s not the one in charge or if someone needs gentleness.

None of that was my point.

“Variations on themes” are not what we were talking about either. You said that “telling the same story”—specifically, man searching for truths about who he is/what he needs/wants—is boring. The truth of the matter is, like I said, we’ve been doing that for all of human history. Theseus begets Frodo begets Luke Skywalker begets Simba begets Tony Stark. We tell the same stories with the same broad main points over and over. That’s what “timeless” stories are.

What I am saying is that, all of the above stories I mentioned, where the protagonist learning who he is is male, are not less relatable or impactful for women. Because all of humanity is capable of relating to one another, regardless of differences. We are a relational creature.

What makes these stories interesting is (and forgive me for thinking this is what you really mean) “variation”, not on themes, but on “the bait” that attracts viewers. “The bait” is the idea of spectacle. “I’ll engage with that story because the animation looks good; I’ll engage with that story because I love that actress and I’ve never seen her play that kind of character; I’ll engage with that story because I’ve never seen an octopus attack New York City and it looks dope; I’ll engage with that story because I like to see male empowerment or female empowerment,” etc. But that’s not really what makes a story timeless. It’s just the bait to get people engaged. What makes a story timeless is whether or not the main point is A) profound and B) compellingly communicated.

“Who am I? Not a hopeless farm boy or a Sith, but a Jedi, like my father before he fell.” Luke’s story has a compelling theme for men and women, black or white, short or tall, fat or skinny, because every human can relate to wanting to find out that they can be more than their origins.

“Who am I? Not a murderer and not a selfish kid, but a King who takes responsibility, like my father before me.” Simba’s story has a compelling theme for men and women, not just for lions or princes, because every human can relate to wanting to find out that they can be more than their past mistakes.

The stuff that matters are the enduring themes that apply to everyone, and whether they’re compelling and well-communicated. The variations (like the species and gender and time period and color) are not as important.

Finally, it’s ironic that you say “the male and female lead have to get together regardless of their characters and suitability is lazy and boring” when the post you’re responding to is a critique of what Greta Gerwig changed about Little Women. Because in many ways, the male and female lead of that story are Jo and Laurie, and they don’t suit each other, because of their characters. They didn’t refuse to get together because Jo wanted to focus on her work and reject societal stereotypes for women (but that is how Greta Gerwig frames the decision through the narrative.) They refused to get together because Jo knew that their natures would not compliment one another for the Work of marriage.

That’s the whole problem. Modern feminism does not do “self-sacrificial love,” and no decisions for marriage are based on the sanctity of the marriage itself: they’re based on the woman’s preference and ability to stay empowered even if she has a partner. That is evident in the ways that Greta Gerwig changed the story. I will say it again, for clarity: Jo chooses not to marry Laurie because she a) doesn’t love him that way, and b) knows that marriage is about life-partnership and self-sacrificial working together, so she won’t marry a young man who can’t do that with her. In Little Women, the emphasis is taken off of “what marriage should be” and placed on “Jo’s greatest love is her work.” It’s about emphasis on themes.

Truth of the matter is, Jo’s “work” in the Little Women movie is her own self-glorification and the actualization of her desire to be who she wants to be without society’s norms placed on her. That’s what her “writing” represents in the movie. In the book, that’s what it is too—but her whole character arc is to learn to know better. That writing novels shouldn’t be for her, they should be for others, and so should all of life.

She learns that from Beth, who never aspires to greatness but lives and dies content with cleaning the house and making home nice for her family.

She learns that from her mother, who gives up her wealth to support her husband, and gives up her piece of mind about her husband’s safety for the country she loves, and gives up her own pride to avoid losing her temper with the people around her.

She learns that from Friedrich, who gave up a prominent and well-respected position in Germany to care for his sister’s children and be undervalued by his new American peers.

She learns it from Meg, who marries a poor man despite her great dreams of wealth and freedom from menial house work, because she knows he is a good man and she loves him.

She learns it from Amy, who also gives up great ambitions of artistic glory and an enormous fortune because she knows that Laurie suits her for the self-sacrificial Work of marriage better, and love is better than glory.

That’s Jo’s whole story. It’s anti-modern-feminism. Greta Gerwig’s version of Jo isn’t.

I’m not mad at you, either, by the way. I’m just pointing out that you’re ignoring my points and arguing with a straw man.

#Little women #Greta gerwig #Narnia #mrsjdavis #response #feminism #anti feminism #self-sacrificial love #jo March #Theodore Laurence #Amy March

[valeriefauxnom]

How Euden Was Primed To Have Identity Crises Even Before Nedrick (Or: Yet Another Very Long Analysis As To Why Euden Is More Messed Up Than He Appears)

Did you know that the whole plot point of Euden not being the actual 7th scion was decided by Okada? Yeah. Make of that what you will that that one decision impacted the whole trajectory of the story, but I'm sure to many it helps explain the transition from a more typical story about royal family infighting and rescuing siblings from demonic possession to identity crises and fighting God(s).

Surprisingly enough, though, I'd argue that Euden would be in hot water whether or not he was the 'real' 7th scion or not!

The very long and short of it ties back to my long dives here on Tumblr which explored just how ridiculously self sacrificial Euden is and how his behavior is a problem, but in this analysis I'm going to narrow in on another of his problems under the giant self sacrifice umbrella he is constantly lugging about.

As the title says, I'm going to be looking at how Euden might have had an incoming identity crisis even before Nedrick popped in to say 'hi' even if he did kickstart it in the worst way possible.

First, I'd like to establish Euden's complete lack of 'selfish' motives. Everything he does or wants tends to trail back for others.

It's started even before canon: Euden only knows how to play piano was because his father made him take lessons, eventually he decided to continue just so he wouldn't disappoint King Dad (read: Aurelius, in contrast to King Dork, Alberius, in a set of nicknames me and WillOfWinnie maintain for the fam).

He seems more personally invested in practicing the violin but maintains his study of piano just to please his father.

Then there's the very start of the game, in which he only really struck out because Aurelius and the kingdom needed him to. Personally, he wasn't interested in pacting (as he is trying to remain nonthreatening to his siblings, capitulating to their supposed 'desires' of their security) or gaining the right to the throne, but he set out regardless.

Other than that I really just have to wave vaguely to all his motives throughout the entire game+side stories. Despite how he frames them all as 'selfish' they aren't actually serving him beyond emotional fulfillment in that he thinks it's the right thing to do and make him feel good.

Forming a kingdom and establishing himself as leader? That's to protect the people fleeing the empire and establishing order instead of a quick power grab. He's a very passive ruler when it comes to ruling via traditional means and mostly seems to run the Halidom in a 'don't cause too many problems or else you'll end up in my therapy class' philosophy.

Rescuing Zethia? Well, there's... many reasons for that, not least of which freeing her and thus the people from the Other's tyranny, which is another of his goals that are for the people instead of him. Besides, one of his base form's lines is: "I've grieved and grown with Zethia. She needs me." Keep that last bit in mind...

This gets pointed out in Luca's dialogue nearly verbatim in 18:

This leads to the second point of my overall argument: Euden has few things he then can characterize himself with. Most people have some sort of individual dream or trait they view as intrinsic to them. Whether it's 'I want to be the best x ever' or 'I'm very x, personality wise' we have certain markers, no matter of how well conscious they are to our actual behavior, that we use to try and keep in touch with ourselves.

But Euden's goals, so wrapped up in other people and for other people means he's lacking some of the common methods people use to define and drive themselves. Combine that with his surprisingly low self esteem I've also addressed, Euden doesn't really seem to have many of the typical means to keep in touch with himself.

So, how does Euden keep track of who Euden is and what Euden should do?

What all these other people think of him and his actions. And other people in general.

What's one of the first things to start getting to him in his hallucination?

What's the reason he's trying to stay strong for even after everyone abandons him in his hallucination? That's right: other people, instead of any of his own real drives. He can't let other people's hopes and dreams go to waste.

"Now wait a minute," you, the hypothetical viewer I am creating to discuss with in my head as if this were a Socratic circle, say, "This is from chapter 18, after Nedrick popped up. His identity crisis was already in bloom there."

Yes, but for a big point to demonstrate that this is not a recent insecurity or tendency brought up as Nedrick reemerged, look to chapter 13 before that whole plotline. This is not a recent development, and the 'title drop' moment of this analysis: even before Nedrick, Euden has a pattern of behavior and way of thinking that set him up for identity crises because he has no strong foundation of self that's not tied to others.

"Ed" Beren why did you choose 'Ed' as a fake name instantly identified this weak spot in Euden's mind to start prodding at it.

I think it's relatively fair to say a decent chunk of people's initial response to being told they were not needed would be a feeling of indignation and sadness, depending on how close they were. Euden's?

One could argue that this is a form of indignation, 'prove them wrong', but notably any of the standard 'ha! I am needed, loser' anger-driven vehemence to protect one's self esteem isn't there. He's trying to prove his usefulness...to live up to his family and his duty to serve. Again, external things he has imposed on himself. It isn't out of vengeance to prove himself to get back at whoever the rude person is, it's an attempt to make others realize he still has a use to them.

Beren, keen as ever, notices this weakness in turn, that the big chunk of his indignation is to prove the worthiness of his dragonblood and as prince and prods that.

The essence of this conversation boils down to Euden admitting that he derives a great deal of his own self-worth, goals, and general identity from others. They are what keep him tethered.

What pride he takes in himself more comes from things like possessing the legacy of dragonblood: he feels the need to live up to Alberius' and Aurelius' legacies. That others need him. Remember his ardent claim earlier how 'Zethia needs [him]?' While it by itself more broadly fits into the slow quest people gradually undertook in Dragalia to get the two of them more independent and less mutually overprotective, it also is an example of how he's anchoring himself to what others need instead of himself.

He derives identity on what others ascribe to him: 7th scion, son of Aurelius, dragonblood, Prince... these traits are what give him that framework to define his life around. He needs to practice the sword to be strong, to then fulfill his duties as prince, so on and so forth, etc.

It's a big chunk of the reason why Nedrick's revelation hits him so hard. I've seen some people misunderstand (at least, in my book) that Euden's unhinged reaction to Nedrick's claims is because he believes shared blood is the ultimate determinate of family and that he's just really upset that he thinks now all the time spent growing up was meaningless. No, he seems perfectly fine accepting others of atypical family structures.

What was really getting him, aside from the whole 'core facts of your life have been lies', is that so much of what he's tied together- this duty, most everything he's done in the past year+, -is falling apart. Euden himself essentially calls up this whole issue in the moment:

"Who am I" is suddenly now a valid question because the biggest traits he's used to characterize himself and guide his entire modus operandi has been ripped to shreds. It's the meaning behind what those labels meant to him that makes having them ripped away hurt that much more rather than the labels themselves causing the fit.

There it is again: Euden has a deep need to feel needed. And yes, most of us do to some degree, but I think and hope I've demonstrated in this post that he is a bit too dependent on this need to drive him. As Luca later hallucinates the genocide and complete destruction of his new village as what he fears, Euden's instead revolves around abandonment and being unneeded. And these run deep enough that Euden wasn't showing any sign of being able to break through on his own and likely would have died if not for Luca's intervention.

We also see this darkly demonstrated whenever Euden thinks he is truly alone. Even in as late canon as Bondforged Euden, he has this reaction to thinking every single person and dragon he fought for is dead:

All I can say here is that he's essentially (and possibly literally, I don't know) lying down, ready to let fiends maul him to death with no more struggle, which is...concerning. Before in the Ch.18 hallucination he was adamant about continuing because the others had their dreams...but now that they are 'dead' he's giving up life itself.

Even in Halloween Mym's fantasies, which are notably more closer to the core components of Euden's actual behavior (selflessness, deference to elder siblings, etc) now that she's had more time to get to know him, the vaguely southern, tough-but-sweet-on-the-inside orphan imagining of him immediately is ready to, guess what? Let himself be mauled to death by a fiend because he thinks Mym's dead and he sees no further point in living. I'm sensing a pattern with how Euden chooses to go out-

Ahem. Anyways, the point is that when Euden thinks his sources of motivation and those who need him, who gave him meaning are gone, he himself sees no more need to live either. While it certainly wasn't helped by Nedrick, this is an overall pattern to his motives and personality that existed before, too.

And it's a dangerous one in its own right, even aside from how it again falls under the 'selfless' umbrella that overhangs all his more specific problems. (Honestly, 'selfless' almost takes on its own meaning in this context, not in the sense of being willing to throw one's self onto the pyre for another, but in the sense he has no true internal drive to characterize himself. Maybe why Nedrick+Beren's no.1 go-to insult is calling him hollow? He 'rings hollow' to them and needs to find meaning and drive to fill the gap elsewhere).

Please do take this next bit with the tiniest grain of salt, as somebody who merely has taken an abnormal psych+a few other psych classes in college, but he almost seems to start showing shades of something not quite Borderline Personality Disorder or Dependent Personality Disorder. While I don't actually think he meets many/enough of the criteria for either one, nor am I wanting to play armchair psychologist and get on a whole 'x has y disorder!!!' thing some people do and unintentionally diminish the significance of what y disorder is to those who have it, he still has shades of what we would start to consider clinical degrees of dysfunction.

For the former, one of the big facets of BPD is the fear of abandonment. While, again, he doesn't show some of the other core traits like 'splitting', ie, having rapid mood swings of idealizing others and demonizing them the next, his frantic desperation to avoid abandonment lines up. So too is the tendency to feel 'lost' and 'empty', as well as his trouble identifying himself. Again, for every 1 thing that lines up well, 3 other things don't, but it still is an interesting connection, I think.

Dependent Personality Disorder also doesn't fit him for similarly many reasons. It shares the fear of abandonment, but Euden doesn't particularly struggle to decide what to do- he knows what he has to do to fulfill the duties his roles have placed on him- nor does he feel completely helpless without someone to 'take care' of him. As I've long discussed, he's more of the 'desperately seeking to take care of others' type. But it he does have other few shades, as his tendency to submit to other's wills and efforts not to aggravate them.

Again: this is not even worth 2 cents. It simply sets my eyebrows rising a bit when I linked up just how intense his behavior patterns are to concepts like the 4 D's and those disorders in my pattern-seeking monkey brain trying to hammer square pegs into round holes.

The 4 D's, as I recall, were a guideline in determining normal behaviors or quirks from actual, diagnosable, 'yep this is a Problem' disorders. They are Danger, Deviance, Distress, and Dysfunction. Danger is easy: is it dangerous to one's self or others? Deviance: is the behavior(s/thoughts/etc notably atypical compared to cultural standards? Distress, is the behavior causing marked distress in one's or other's lives? Dysfunction, does it markedly interfere with living a normal life or fulfilling one's daily tasks? I could see an argument for all 4.

I think what I intended by bringing this up is simply to stress just how disruptive his behaviors are. No, he does not have BPD (bipolar or borderline!), nor does he have DPD. But the fact he shares quite a few qualities that are considered atypical enough to be symptomatic is, again, a testament to how concerning and dangerous he would be in real life.

In any case, I really do need to wrap this up since I've danced around my points long enough. If you've suffered along for this long, especially combined with my other long dissections into what I believe is the hidden dark side of the moon to Euden's character, thank you. I hope you've found some of this interesting, at least!

#dragalia lost #dragalia #character analysis #dragalia analysis #You may not believe it but I do think about other things aside from Dragalia. I can just type very fast and like showing off sources haha #Anyways Euden is like those bodies of water that look still but are churning with swift currents underneath that trap and kill. to me. #These are also a way for me to record some assortments of discussions and Thoughts I've had with my best friend so I don't forget! #But I genuinely do hope you have found some interest or 'wow I forgot about x moment' in these! #In my defense for these unhinged analyses: I gotta upkeep my supposed renown keeping characters IC when writing!

[neoyi]

I'm almost done with season one of Ranking of Kings and it keeps blowing me away with its characters and the oodles of nuances and layers they're carrying.

It's ridiculously clever how the fairy tale aesthetic (which is gorgeous - like looking at an animated picture book) uses well-worn archetypes, narratives, and character appearances to throw you for a loop. I'm thoroughly impressed particularly by the seemingly "evil" characters who quickly reveal they're anything but.

Like Prince Daida, the younger, brutish half-brother to the main character, Bojji, had all the introduction to mark his path as another Joffery-like Kid Sociopath. But nah, man, he's actually horrified of any untoward acts and is capable of sympathy and loneliness.

Or Bojji's best friend, Kage, a shadowy thief who's led a shitty life that's left him cynical, except right after episode 2, when he sees Bojji's suffering, he decided to be his best friend right then and there, and has stuck by his side since. This shadow blob, who could have been a roguishly selfish asshole, is instead Bojji's biggest supporter!

I love that Bebin, the sneaky snake guy, who seemingly has a rivalry with the Good, Blond Knightly Knight Domas, does not have some grand plan to quietly betray his King and take over. Hell, I'm not sure what his goal really is (as befitting his nature), but he's far from some treacherous backstabber, just a really damn good information gatherer/spy.

He and his snake buddies are also friends! I love that the big, fucking two-headed snake, Mitsumata, is actually super kind and loyal, largely because Bebin actually treats his reptilian friends with love for their well-being. Can I say how much I appreciate all the snakes being good creatures instead of reducing them to yet another Evil Reptile thing? They're all nice and helpful.

It's actually the Handsome, Fair-Haired Domas, who actually betrays Bojji (under orders, but still) via attempted assassination instead of the usual suspect. Which he acknowledges and works to fix. Like holy shit, it's NOT the Snake Charmer, it's Mr. Good Knight. Because Domas has a complex about loyalty to his kingdom versus what he feels is right. And it eats at him. Oh my GOD, these characters are a lot and it's great.

I also love Despa, who's foppish and physically weak, hardly what you'd expect to be Bojji's trainer to be a better fighter. But he's incredibly quick-witted and can strategize like a motherfucker. He literally learned fighting by observation and passes that knowledge to others. Like he looks like a french coward, but nah man, he's a good, smart egg.

But for my money, the best is Bojji's stepmother, Queen Hiling, who starts off as the supposed "evil stepmother", but really at worst, can be blunt. There is never a single doubt she doesn't love both her sons and will go to hell and back from them (symbiotically, it is appropriate she has healing powers.) Even her demanding and unmovable personality is shown in a good light, because she gets shit down and refuses to rest when her kingdom is in danger (and people around her are often in shock and awe in response.)

I love her. She's great. I hope she kicks Bosse in the nuts because what the FUCK is that dude doing? What is his plan? What are you doing, my dude?

I just love that these characters and their specific archetype were deconstructed with a myriad of contrasting personality traits from what we initially expected of them, and never in a Dark and Edgy Way. Not every character is "Good", what they are are richly defined with a lot of admirable traits.

Man, I'm gonna be sad once I catch up because lord knows when season two's gonna arrive.

#ranking of kings #neoyi talks

[paragonrobits]

tbh i think the whole ‘Midna’s true form doesn’t look enough like a gremlin so her imp form is better’ is kind of a ground zero for a particular type of discourse in character design that ultimately boils down to a single question:

should a character’s design be a visual summary of their personality?

there are pros and cons to this thing. on the one hand, i always appreciate a design where a single look at it goes ‘oh yeah you know EVERYTHING about this person’. a lot of the most iconic villains really lean into this (though a lot of heroes don’t, for a particular reason), and these designs are a very effective way to instantly communicate character.

The flipside issue of this, though, is that while it doesn’t INHIBIT nuance, it does make it harder to convey it, or at least if you assume that a design should always communicate the fundamental facet of this character, it also means that by default those facets will have greater significance to an audience than more subtle or less obvious traits revealed through characterization and plot. For example, if your character is a huge and brutish monster with a soft side, and the former is what their character design communicates (because the soft side is a subversion), than this approach to character design can be more of a hurdle.

Character design as character thesis also creates a problem with audience response; if the audience overwhelmingly makes assumptions about a character because of the way they look, even if that’s not at all what you intended, they can and probably will warp that character to fit their preconceptions. (For instance, all the male characters who happen to be attractive by the standards of the audience and get reimagined as brooding bad boys whose pragmatism and ruthlessness is them being dark and mature, even if the actual character is an explosive dumbass with zero maturity and too selfish to consider that other people have goals independent of what they want.)

This is where you run into another big issue with this whole idea: remember when i said that heroes and protagonists often tend to have less interesting designs, or at least that their characters are not often communicated as well? This largely boils down to a desire to have characters that you WANT people to like to be broadly inoffensive; if you’ve ever created OCs and you shied away from a particularly unpalatable character trait or design feature because you thought it would turn more people away, than you know EXACTLY what i mean. Heroes are often compelled to be more broadly likable, but this also means flattening out their potential concepts in favor of something more... marketable. Which sucks. It fucking sucks. Its why so many heroes come off as boring compared to villains, and while you can get some fun ideas by making your heroes just as extreme as villains, its very easy to screw it up and create unlikable characters. (You can honestly study a lot of discourse this way.)

Going back to Midna, she’s actually a prime example of a heroic character that does this right, but the thing about her is that while being a gremlin is a big part of her character, it isn’t what defines her. She is, after all, the protagonist (though not the playable one) of this game, she is THE titular Twilight Princess, and this role is ultimately what defines her, and her growing into her responsibility. She may be a gremlin, but its not the sole aspect of her personality.

Personally, I’ve always liked her true form more (though to be honest, she would probably have more facial elements from Imp Midna if she appeared in more games especially now, since the highly mature and regal look of her true form is kind of a stylistic element exclusive to Twilight Princess, while she’d probably look more like Imp Midna but Gerudo-sized and proportioned if she appeared in Tears of The Kingdom), not least in part BECAUSE its such a contrast to her actual personality. It’s very fun to get a character whose design expects you to think one way of them, but they turn out to have a radically different personaltiy, while it does seem limiting for a character’s design to indicate who they are. It might communicate things easier, but it also leans towards a much flatter character; if you convey everything that way, what’s left to tell?

for Midna, when we see her true form’s contrast against the gremlin cursed form we associated with her, its essentially the story of her character development and the depths of who she really is told in reverse.

#character design #midna #legend of zelda

[thesugarhole]

sanrio?? hello??

violin* and obsessed with money???? since when??? i mean. alright. i can give the violin to him AND cherry but its like, very barely there violin??

me to the sanrio ceo: "berry is violin" shut up if youve seen the stuff kuromi circa 2006 used to do youd hurl

also i dont think wallet status has ever been mentioned about these guys... in any media/franchise. they live in an abandoned looking mansion for the halloween aesthetic, not because of money. i can believe 'obsessed with money' but not 'poor'

hoping its either just google mistranslations or some recent developments ive been blissfully unaware of

>cinnamon

>her

its mistranslations. also this is personal headcanoning time based on how often the confusion happens but man you cant do this to cinnamon notorious trans man icon cinnamon. if he doesnt mind it then ill mind it for him djkhfdksj 'cherry is competitive and selfish' is correct btw this has always been her description. well maybe not competitive but definitely selfish. iirc it was always around "berry is stubborn cherry is selfish and theyre both tsundere" genuinely dont know where violin came from its gotta be a mistranslation on the nuisanse/stubborn aspect. i also dunno where 'weakness is strong-willed girls' came from, it might be talking about his friendship with cherry and how he might given in easier to what she tells him (at least i choose to think so) so i got no comment on it

all the pronouns being mismatched is so funny man come on shjfhdgfdsjvfdsjv is this profile using some sort of neutral language that left google confused as hell?

i. uh? should i be worried about espresso?

this ones... correct? espresso is more of a culture savant than a celebrity.... anyway berry if you kick him out there will be no one there to make you the food you love

nope! its magic and mirror manipulation. pranking is their hobby and favorite pass time but their magic is not limited to just the -its joke- context (sorry to once again quote the worst season ever of OMM, but they both tried to help out bakus family by making a photo of food they had emit scent, so the family would have an easier time eating plain rice. no jokering no jestering no clowning no malicious behavior whatsoever).

i remember being mentioned in older descriptions that berry had some potion making proficiency but they havent focused in that in years so who cares now amirite. i dont remember if cherry had any sort of distinction like this, theyve always overfocused on her crush on espresso :pensive:

"what about cherry"

"who? oh idk write smth about espresso again"

(hobbies include PRANKS, attempting to make friends (a general trait) making music (2018 rankings), having ballroom parties (cinnamon trip!! by oster project) and watching sentai/magical girl anime (onegai my melody). berrys particular hobby is to mess with cinnamon, cherrys particular hobby is to go after espresso. i guess.) (but again most of these are old one offs, and currently unfocused aspects of theirs so. whatever)

also i really would like to know the plans about the alt designs for them that are technically their true form and always show in their shadows and (sometimes?) in mirror reflections. it hasnt been completely dropped but, its never been hard defined either so idk. i guess i feel a bit bummed that its also been attempted to be forgotten to time because (to me feel at least) it feels very obviously based on the episode kuromi turned herself into a human and it could be something they were trying to establish to devil inspired characters back then.

thanks for coming to the lloromannic autism hour its nice to think about something else other than current personal events sometimes

*censorship

#sugar.txt #sanrio #lloromannic #cherry #berry #cinnamon #cinnamoroll #kuromi #onegai my melody #baku

[soulless-angel25]

my top three companions from New Who, since I haven't see classic, in order are.

Rory. Man I just love him, he deserved so much more. I'm also definitely worried about his mental state, my boy died multiple times that probably left some trauma. Also y'know, he watched an older version of him die. But I love him and I always love when fics do stuff with him..

Bill. I love love love(!) her. She is so precious to me but holy shit her ending. It was really bittersweet. I loved her dynamic with the Doctor. (Grandpa, Granddaughter dynamic for the win!) I also really appreciate how her sexuality wasn't her only defining trait, it was just- a thing about her.

Rose. She will always hold a special place in my heart being one of the first companions I ever saw. Her personality is part of what makes me like her, she's a human. She got family and friends, her Mum is a bit overprotective but shes her Mum! She falls in love with the universe, she helps whenever and wherever she can. She is so kind. But she's also selfish sometimes, and that's OK! She is human in the most human way possible, she might have some of the bad but she has so much of the good.

#doctor who #rose tyler #bad wolf #dr who #New Who #Nuwho #Bill Potts #Rory Williams #They are so so precious to me

[darabeatha]

@mellodiies asked for a servant assigning ;

/ (in no specific order of compatibility) From left to right; Salieri, Karna, Tezcatlipoca, Duryodhana, Oberon/Vortigern, Morgan, Caeneus, Jason, Ashwatthama, Asclepius, Jeanne D'Arc (alter), Baobhan Sith, Ishtar

Salieri: I THINK S.ALIERI WOULD BE SOOOOOO M.ELLO CORE LIKE???? the man whose entire existence lingers about being the second (in his case; to m.ozart) about not being born a prodigy/naturally gifted; about obsession; envy but also the parallel this has to how u mentioned a lot of times that ur m.ello's relationship to n.ear is not truly of hatred; and that despite it all; they do have a mutual sense of respect? thats s.alieri @ m.ozart as well its just that this manifestation of s.alieri is a twisted one; he's not really -the- salieri to say so he's a bit insane (not on purpose and not willingly)

karna: k.arna is also very m.ello core bc his character is also tied a lot to comparison and obsession and envy (at least og wise) k.arna as a s.ervant developed past his own death yet some traits are very similar to m.ello's he would be able to sympathize a lot with him; k.arna is about second chances; and i feel like compared to s.alieri; his charitable nature could actually help m.ello a lot

T.ezcatlipoca: t.ezcatlipoca would think m.ello is very entertaining to watch so he would definitely tag along; think of him as like r.yuk in a way; he's about duality so don't expect him to fully be in ur team, however, he is a pretty carefree god when it comes about himself so he follows his own rules which means he can bend them whenever he wants

Duryodhana: sore looser personality, but also I just know he would instantly understand why Mello does the things he does and would support his side to the bitter end because this is about winning and about underdogs, and if ur in duryo's team then that obviously means ur in the right

Oberon: (they have the same hairstyle) NO OK BUT- be wary of the fae and that includes this guy; he would also understand him but by the side of bitterness and spite; you never know how far he'll get for his beliefs and that's something i feel like they share

Morgan: also someone who will move and do anything and lit anything for her goals; she is selfish and with a right to it yet those she cares about become her pogchamps and she will blow up the world for them; lit the definition of the world can rot but you will live. Mello will be first on everything.

Caeneus: They will both bicker a lot because their tough personalities could clash, i can feel it, but also caeneus will be the first person to spit on everyone's faces and k.ill for him, the world will look at them and their triumph, they'll prove everyone their worth

Jason: OUGH- JASON.. where do i start,,, the lamest captain you'll ever meet but also a hero, as an ancient hero can be, u ask how both of these can coexist and he's right there- I dunno i just think its like, two guys whose deaths ended up so,,, insignificantly? (i know at the end mello's death contributed to the capture of kira but u get the idea that he just,, blew up.) guys who have so many negative traits but who can't just be defined by them because theres so much more, guys who are incredibly ambitious,,, THAT

Ashwatthama: RAGE, its funny that in a way ash is quite emotional like mello yet these emotions tend to get repressed,, but not in the usual sense but in the sense of -shows one emotion and thinks 'yeah i would summarize it like that' but actually there's a lot more, and its explosive- i feel like they would get to pull out of each other more of these emotions they are sort of looking over because of how they kind of mirror each other in this way, its like;; they can see each other reflected on the other; so positive growing here

Asclepius: bitterness and powerlessness, something about fighting the fate you are imposed upon, about seeking to achieve their goals, that this time it'll be different;; i also feel like because they are quite different in personality they could be funny but in the same sense, Asclepius is kind of distant and very objective- with deep down an emotional side that could pop up more when bonding with mello

Jeanne: THEY ARE BOTH EMO AND STUBBORN AND BITTER AND THE WORLD FAILED THEM- and they will conquer it this time;; and literally screw everyone else. ITS ABOUT SECOND CHANCES, of being the black sheep, of being alone, of being outshined by someone else, of being made for a goal but what about my feelings!? i genuinely feel like if i had to compress this list, jeanne alter would def be in the top who would answer his summoning call

Baobhan: she can be a bit bossy and rude and obsessive and cruel and a whole princess not to mention that she is part of the fae so the difficulty to handle is like x1000 BUT- I think that compatibility-wise, they would def work;; something about pride, of titles holding such a weight and pressure on their image, of their importance relying on their respective label (L's succesor and Morgan's daughter), of circumstances shaping them so much in their past that it ends up affecting them in the future, hedonists;; she also might end up obsessing over mello bc of his bad boy tendencies; also have I mentioned how both are very much into fashion? different fashion sense but I can say both would fall into the end of having very unique pieces

#mellodiies #;s.ervant assigning #UMMM UMMM UMMM i might have rambled too far and my wax wings melted- #so for the next ones i wont be rambling too much bc i feel like someone who just spoke 50 paragraphs in one breath #im so sorry for my queen i.shtar i included her but i did not talk about her bc i ended up becoming the standing man emoji #but she's ur bossy goddess and i love her #also add to this list m.octezuma but he is not a summonable servant yet so he wasnt on the tier list

[holisticsoulhealer]

Wisdom and Kindness - A Spiritual Story

This newsletter has the possibility of holding the energy of relaying that greatest of greats - wisdom and kindness.

The difference between the personality, character, and ego traits and wisdom become more obvious as we hopefully learn with the aging process ( that’s not everybody of course.)

Wisdom can be defined in spiritual terms in this way, “wisdom doesn’t need to speak. Instead it sits back, listening with the heart fully engaged, while the personality speaks out loud.”

Kindness is one of the loveliest traits of mankind when we exercise it, and all too often we haven’t been particularly famous for being kind at all, not now or throughout our history. Let’s hope there’s massive room for improvement in this area.

Bringing the two energies of both wisdom and kindness together, is a wonderful combination, and one we all deserve to not only meet in our lives, but also to experience first hand.

I am living every day with a man so kind and loving, it sometimes takes my breath away. He is way more patient than me, and even on the roads in the state of Florida (which currently has the absolute worst drivers I’ve seen so far), he has a tolerance that I don’t possess. It’s one of the things I’m working on. The urge to sit with my head out of the window, using very bad language, is one I have to stop myself from doing all the time. Enlightened? I think not!

He has shown patience to grown and growing, quite selfish and uncaring people in his life, while he continues to love them and leave doors open for their behaviors and attitudes to change. While I am a door closed, locked, bolted and I’m in another realm, far enough away to forget any of that even existed.

I am learning so much from him, and it’s really cute, because he thinks he’s growing and learning from me (perhaps we won’t tell him just yet.)

I personally had a very different childhood than any of my siblings. They didn’t care for my mother, and I adored her. They didn’t bother to get to know her, and I couldn’t soak up enough details of who she was, what mattered to her and how she grew up in war torn England. I found her fascinating, lovely, wise, kind and one of the best people I had the great pleasure to meet. I certainly preferred her to anyone I lived with, and she was a woman close to my heart and soul. I don’t know or understand anyone who had the opportunity to meet her, to not appreciate the gentleness of her soul. I knew that about her, and felt better about me for being able to see the wisdom and kindness in her.

I seek that in everyone now (not as much the Floridian drivers yet, but I’m working on it!)

As always, please share this post with anyone that you feel can benefit from it! Please like us on your social media channels and subscribe to our mailing list if you haven't already done so! We are mailing out a monthly newsletter and a recap each week of our blog posts and interesting tidbits! This is how you can stay informed with what is new in the world of The Holistic Soul Healer!!

Love & Blessings,

Ruth

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#inspirational #motivational #life coaching #The Holistic Soul Healer #psychic #Ruth Kramer #intuitive guidance #intuitive healing #guided meditation #going within #inner guidance #spiritual teacher #universal consciousness #reiki master #healthy life style #Shamanic Sound Healing #Shamanic Heart Ceremonies #Crystal Grid Healing #Intuitive Birth Chart Reading #Animal Intuitive #Past Life Regression #Entity Detachment Therapy #Spiritual Advocacy #Medical intuitive #Clairvoyance

[honeyfizzly]

My favorite thing about each yttd character because there is no time to grieve when you're a boss babe

Long post oops

Sara- I love her complexity as a character, she both can fit as an audience surrogate while also having a personality of her own. Of course she has her moments of being a self insert (mainly at beginning) but she very much feels fleshed out as a character (with how she suffers from pressure, and has selfish thoughts and actions).

Joe- love how his mini character arc is wrapped up so well in just one chapter- he struggles with trust vs distrust, and in side jou novel he struggles with his own morality as well.

Keiji- the way he pushes blame onto other characters for his own actions is a defined trait throughout the entire game (before being stated outright in chap 3b). Like how he had such a intense grudge against megumi, Shin, and midori. It's interesting to think about how keiji as a character would change if we weren't on his side

Gin- my son, my precious boy. Anyhow I adore how Gin isn't just the "little kid" character and actually contributes to the plot, but it's also clear he's a little kid with his limits.

Shin- the way abusive victims are presented and the conflicted feelings that come with after the abuser is gone hit way too hard to home.

Qtaro- love how he was able to completely sway the opinions of the fandom, from most people hating to loving him. Qtaro went down like an absolute icon in 3b and even made me emotional.

Kanna- love how she's smarter than she seems, not to a unrealistic sense either. Like for example, she was the one who figured out the password to kai's laptop in chapter 2, or how in chapter 3 she mentioned that she felt like she knew that the message was fabricated.

Kai- I absolutely adore his humor, I was excited to play his route in ytts cause Kai is just a character with a great sense of humor (imo)

Reko- love how kind she is! Unlike what certain people say, she dosent hate men- rather, she's harsh on the strong, and kind to the weak. She's such a lovely big sister figure to Gin and Sara (oh and her comforting Ranmaru when he pulled off his hand was a nice scene as well!)

Alice- I love the way he talks! Not much to say, the way he talks is just very fun to read and write

Nao- i love practically everything about nao since she's my favorite character- but my favorite part about her would be about how she tries to take burden off of Sara's shoulder (like how she killed fake reko, or instead went to shin for help instead of Sara).

Mishima- love how he's like the only yttd character with his shit together, like he already had his character development before the story.

Ranmaru- I love the dichotomy between his character depending on the routes, and how his development makes sense in both routes.

Mai- I love her big dumb hat! It's memorable and so so dumb...I love it!

Kurumada- I love his character development and his care for the dummies, he starts off not wanting allies to be willing to to die for them.

Hinako- I love her attitude like her sarcasm and cynical nature (and also how she dumped hot coco on ranmaru)

Anzu- funny clown girl! I personally think she's very funny (it's also tragic how she fails at everything 💔)

Shunsuke- he is litterally some guy! And that is okay, he is allowed to just be some guy

Sue miley- her introduction really sets the tone for the game- showing how no matter who you are, or how kind you are, you can't escape the will of majority.

Tia safalin- she's a very morally ambiguous character- at times helping, and at other times making it painfully clear that she is absolutely not their ally.

Rio ranger- I love his funny little face masks, very cute.

Gashu- his stupid lil mustache

Midori- his death lolz

#yttd #your turn to die #yttd spoilers #yttd sara #kimi ga shine #yttd ranmaru #sara chidouin #shin tsukimi #yttd shin #yttd joe #keiji shinogi #joe tazuna #reko yabusame #alice yabusame #yttd alice #yttd nao egokoro #mai tsurugi #yttd kurumada #hinako mishuku #qtaro burgerberg #yttd mishima #kanna kizuchi #forgive any spelling errors #kai satou #yttd gin #yttd anzu #yttd hayasaka #shunsuke hayasaka #yttd sue miley #sue miley

[hardestgrove]

I've been really into your Harrington siblings AU with @officialjoekeery could you tell me a litt bit about Shannon Harrington like her personality, age, and relationship w/ Steve? Also may I please use her for my own headcanons for Steve's family I'll tag you if you'd like?

first off, yes ofc you can use Shannon in your headcanons and things! I'm honored you even want to to begin with! this blog is currently still glitched out of being like, findable or viewable outside of the dash so i'd recommend tagging my main @namorian for now if you want to be sure i'll actually see anything lol 💀

SO ON TO THE HOT SHANNON DEETS!!!!

I've finally done some math on her age since Ria's already sorted out the brothers 💀 her birthday is June 15 1968, she's a Gemini and she's about 2 years younger than Steve and in Nancy's year. She's also 5ft with a gymnastics kind of athletic build since she's the one they hurl around in cheer. Overall she's very petite, except her hair ofc. Big hair is a Harrington family trait lol.

Her personality is like, stereotypical insane teenage girl to comical levels. Characters that she's similar to are people like Cordelia Chase from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Alison DiLaurentis from Pretty Little Liars (early seasons when everyone thinks she's dead and all the flashbacks of her are Fucked Up lol), Damon Salvatore from The Vampire Diaries, Mona-Lisa Saperstein from Parks & Rec and Megan from Drake & Josh to give like a vibe palate lol.

At her best self she's Cordelia— she's intelligent, caring, determined and brutally honest. Some of Cordelia's best and most character defining lines are "Tact is just saying not true stuff", "You think I'm never lonely because I'm so cute and popular? I can be surrounded by people and be completely alone. It's not like any of them really know me." and "I'm not a sniveling, whiny, little cry-Buffy. I'm the nastiest girl in Sunnydale history. I take crap from no one." All of those really do also apply to Shannon, they're 100% things she could and would say. When she's at her best and healthiest she's a Massive Bitch™ but she's your Massive Bitch™ and she loves and protects the people she considers hers aggressively and she doesn't lie to anyone just to make them feel better. She can and will fight anyone and she'll win.

At her worst she's like Alison or Damon, just this selfish bordering in sociopathic, needlessly mean, manipulative and just...The Worst™. Just a petty spiteful bitch who alleviates her own boredom and issues by torturing people for fun. She rarely feels bad about it and never apologizes. She's a Bitch (derogatory) and kind of a monster. Like she's not a very insecure person, she's actually very comfortable in how great she is, but she's also intimately aware that she lacks direction in life and that most people around her don't actually like her. Even at home there's an air of "ugh it's my turn to look after Shannon? GREAT :/" which naturally does not make one feel awesome.

Where Steve has internalized his issues with loneliness as "there's something wrong with me and that's why people don't want to be around me" Shannon's internalized it as "people will never understand me because I'm too much for them, I'm too different and better than them. That's why they don't stay." and it shows in how they interact with the world. She feels very comfortable being the Worst™ because well, she kinda is a small fish in a big pond and she knows she can be a monster and still have people begging to be near her. She's learned that her outbursts and bad behavior get her more rewards than her good behavior so she's just gonna keep rolling with that until it stops being true.

She craves attention and will do a lot of things to get it. She's very funny as part of gaining and maintaining attention.

When she was first conceived of and it was just her and Steve as the siblings there was a kind of unspoken knowledge that a big part of why she was even born was the "they can entertain each other" aspect, like going to the pound and getting another cat/dog to keep your existing pet company while you're at work. Steve was the golden boy and even then he wasn't given much attention and she was just kind of There. She's never held this against Steve since he's you know... not really getting a much better shake than she is but it's absolutely present in her behaviors like the attention seeking and manipulation.

With the addition of more brothers she's less of the "extra" and more "The Girl™" and much of the attention and special treatment she gets is because she's The Girl, not because she's a preferred child. It's just because it's assumed girls need different things than boys. There's a lot of assumptions made by their parents about her, her interests, her personality etc because she's The Girl™. And while she is very feminine and does like many traditionally feminine things it's just very reductive and ignores her actual strengths and her genuine struggles. Her social life is not really respected, her hurt is not really seen as valid etc etc because she's a Teen Girl. That last bit applies whether or not she's got 1 or 4 brothers but it's more blatant and intense when they've had 4 boys before her.

Shannon's relationship with Steve is probably the healthiest and most genuine in her entire life. She loves all her brothers a lot and genuinely loves to be around them and bother them but Steve's basically always been the one saddled with her so he's the one she's the closest with. It also helps they're the closest in age and go to school together. When it's just them and no other siblings they 100% did entertain and keep each other company just like it was kind of intended they would. They are unironically each other's best friend.

Steve is one of the very few people who can clap back on Shannon for her shitty behavior and have her actually then feel bad and apologize and try and do better (the others are her brother and heather). She really loves and looks up to Steve. She knows she's a very tough to swallow personality even when she's toning it down and plenty of people have decided she's not worth the struggle. Steve gets annoyed and exasperated and even angry sometimes but he still sticks around and hangs out with her. She teases him and annoys him and is just an utter menace to him but it's out of love and he understands that and bitches and moans and retaliates and gives her a big hug at the end of the day because she's an annoying little shit but she's his annoying little shit.

It's why she has SUCH a grudge against Nancy— like to the point she WOULD fight Nancy in the halls. Shannon is very aware of Steve's soft gooey center— having spent her whole life taking advantage of it— and she really can't stand how that relationship ended and what it did to Steve's self-esteem/image/worth. She really hates anyone/thing that makes Steve think he's shit. Like even SHE doesn't do that, not really. Like she'll call him stupid and then ask him to help her solve a problem. Of the two of them, Shannon is the more academically successful but she's always turning to Steve for help and advice and returns that favor when/where she can. Like we're not gonna get into the bloodbaths of Steve's senior year in the Harrington house, Shannon was ready to come over the table for their dad lol.

#answered #WOW THIS IS LONG klfdjghdfksjglds #shannon harrington #ocs #hawkins siblings multiverse #hawkins extended universe #should i probably snip this? yes. will i? no.

[conkniving]

confession, alone, hive

CONFESSION - what’s your muse’s thoughts about religion?

fallon could think there’s some validity in religion but it is so often utilized for selfish and personal reasons that she doesn’t see the point in it other than what the populace uses it for:  as a façade. of course, there are pure of heart believers, and even if they weren’t, she doesn’t make it a habit or defining personality trait to convince others of her perspective.

ALONE - did they ever lose a loved one? how did they cope with their loss?

yes. and not well. finding the mess of a scene of said loved one is traumatizing. seeking help, while feeling utterly useless, only to return to the body missing and a sloppy lie really fucks up the mind. copious substance abuse and reckless behaviour doesn’t exactly help that broken mind but it can certainly deaden the grief for a time.

HIVE - did your muse ever had to deal with an infestation?

also yes. it’s called living in the seal harbour apartments. but having a big scary black dog works wonders, catching rats and tearing them apart like chew toys. ever wonder why they make dog toys with squeakers?

#( inbox. ) #death mention tw

[patroklides-archive]

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒   —  𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤  𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞

NAME:     edelgard von hresvelg

FAVORITE    CANON    SHIP:     definitely e.deleth, because the sheer romance in their supports + the game ending??? byleth’s heart LITERALLY BEATING for the FIRST TIME in EDELGARD’S ARMS??? slays me. but i would say — if we’re counting “canon” for FE as characters who have romantically-coded supports and/or a paired ending — that e.delthea is a close second because i adore their supports.  FAVORITE    NON-CANON    SHIP:     if we’re defining “non-canon” as pairs that don’t have a canon ending (so not, say, b.erniegard or e.delys, for example), my favorite non-canon ship is probably either e.delclaude (my literal ONLY m/f ship for her, rip) or m.erciegard. 

OPINION    ON    TRUE    LOVE:     el has a pretty practical idea of love. i don’t think she believes in “true love” in the sense of having ONE true love in her life.  OPINION    ON    LOVE    AT    FIRST    SIGHT:     she would tell you she doesn’t believe in love at first sight, buuuuut... her crush on byleth was pretty immediate. i don’t think she would have defined it as “love”, though — i think she sensed a kindred spirit in them, had a fascination with them, even, but not quite love, at least not yet.  HOW    ROMANTIC    ARE    THEY?:     she enjoys romance and loves the idea of it, but it’s not a high priority for her, and in general she’s spent most of her life thinking it isn’t in the cards for her. she’s... not very romantic in her own right, but she enjoys a romantic partner. 

IDEAL    PHYSICAL    TRAITS:     i generally see el as demisexual, so i think she usually tends to care more about personalities than physical traits. though the two people edelgard expresses explicit attraction to in the game are byleth and dorothea so ... make of that what you will. IDEAL    PERSONALITY    TRAITS:     el tends to go for people that are good at making her feel ... normal, i guess? people who see her as herself first over her title. people who are fun, or good at helping her relax, or who can challenge her.  UNATTRACTIVE    PHYSICAL    TRAITS:     none that i can think of? UNATTRACTIVE    PERSONALITY    TRAITS:     selfishness and closed-mindedness.

IDEAL    DATE:     something very informal, like a picnic or horseback riding. maybe a museum DO    THEY    HAVE    A    TYPE?     i want to say not really but i only have a few active ships for her so i really haven’t pinned down her type super well yet.  AVERAGE    RELATIONSHIP    LENGTH:     if el actually gets into a relationship, she’s typically in for the long haul. i think in another life, she might be more okay with casual relationships, but generally relationships with el are going to be very slowburn for the most part in canon-ish verses.   COMMITMENT    LEVEL:      see above — if el actually enters a relationship with someone, she’s all in. with that said, her duties and goals are always going to be a high priority, so she works best with someone who is like-minded and who can work with her. 

PREFERRED    NON-SEXUAL    INTIMACY:     she finds it very soothing to have her hair played with. OPINION    ON    PUBLIC    AFFECTION:     embarrassing, but she doesn’t hate it. PAST    RELATIONSHIPS:     in canon, none. she hasn’t exactly had the time or the opportunity for a romantic relationship. 

TAGGED    BY:     stolen from @epithmia TAGGING:     @hamartio, @fategrabbed, @wraithwritten, @madefate, @crimsenza​, @heartwilled​

#( misc. ) — edelgard. #me: doesn't do anything ic for weeks #also me: what if i did these fun dash game things all night