A Lil Neat Plant Outfit For Our Plant Companion :3

day 4 - dorian pavus, dragon age: inquisition happy pride month!

he'll be a woman by the time i'm done with her

10 raven?

10) How does [Milena's] OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

Raven is the most mentally healthy and stable person in the gang, somehow?? They have a very healthy attitude when it comes to accepting loss and change, and while they do feel things of course, they are optimistic and trusting at heart and will always do their best to move on. That's why they do clash with Solas a lot in the polycule AU (who is such a melancholic dramatic pessimist who can't get over his regrets lmao)

Scarlet Hollow characters ranked by how much I'd trust them to come get me from a rural train station in the middle of the night, sorted from least to most

Post brought to you by the amount of times the Deutsche Bahn has left me stranded at midnight in bumfuck, nowhere. For this post I've excluded the teens because I don't think you should be putting that kind of responsibilty on the youngins, and I wouldn't put it past Miles to let me die there on purpose judging by the stink eye that little man was giving me after I shared a chaste hug with his sister.

13: Stella

I say this with so much love in my heart, but she's simply not the right person for this task. She doesn't drive, for one, and should she throw herself into her gear and undertake a brisk hike to my location, I don't think that's where our trouble ends. She crests the hills in the wee hours of dawn, me having survived the night on ancient vending machine snacks and warming myself by a cozy tire fire, and still it's not yet time to go home and decompress, no, it's time for another Stella Adventure with a 30% chance of at least one fatality. I want off Ms. Richmond's wild ride.

Would I survive the drive hike back? Anyone's guess. She doesn't want Bad Things happening to me, but her crippling addiction to Bad Things might pose an obstacle.

12: Doctor Kelly

She is a doctor. She's not a taxi service. Those are her exact words for me as I call her, even as I plead that I'm fearing for my life and that spending the night outside in the cold eating calcified cheese cake from a vending machine certainly won't be good for my health, and also I can't afford a taxi on account of having spent my money on vending machine cheesecake. That's not her job, nobody's forcing me to eat that, (and if someone is forcing me, she's also not the cops) and most importantly: How did I even get this number?!

Would I survive the drive back night stuck at the train station? I mean, probably? It wouldn't be comfortable, and my spine will not forgive me for days to come. However, if I run into any trouble, I'll have to rely on

11: The cops

I'm not expecting the cops to get me home. I don't expect them to be helpful in any damn way. My situation will remain utterly unimproved. The only way Sheriff Huggby and associates can edge out Doctor Kelly is the fact that getting shot down by them won't make me feel bad in the slightest, so at least I'll be less bummed about my cold and lonely night.

Would I survive the drive back night stuck at the train station? Eh, it could always be worse. I could be interacting with the cops right now.

10: Reese

So first of all, there is a non-zero chance Reese will simply be asleep by the time I decide to text him. Even though he seems to be mostly nocturnal, The Horrors don't stick to a schedule, so if he's hit a bad day there's no guarantee he'll read my text. If he does, however...well. He might still come. I don't think he drives, but then again, I don't think that's our biggest problem once he's on his way. Not a lot you can do to stop him once he gets going. He'll come get me alright, and I'll be safe, but I'd have preferred to keep casualties at a minimum.

Would I survive the drive hike (?) back? WE'RE NOT CONCERNED ABOUT ME RIGHT NOW OH MY GOD IS THAT BLOOD

9: Sybil

She WILL show up. That much I can vouch for. She will show up, and she will bring me some tea in a thermos to warm up after my ordeal, and she will get me home. And I will arrive there forever changed, knowing that this ordeal had SOME kind of consequences on my future that I'll never be able to undo, and I'll start to wonder whether I wouldn't have been better off napping on a bench.

Would I survive the drive back? Physically? Hale and hearty.

8: Wayne

Now this he/it king keeps assuring me that he's concerned for my safety, and honestly, I'm inclined to believe it! It certainly seems to be putting some backbone into making sure I remain unmauled - when he feels like it, that is. We're walking back, of course. I don't think you're supposed to drive with a bridal veil over your head. And GOD, it smells SO BAD!

Would I survive the drive hike back? I mean, yeah, sure. I just really, really, really don't want to.

7: Isaacs

I'm not going to list off every single miner here, even though I might be tempted to spend a long car ride with Harrison (cutie pie) or Davis (can GET it), but I've got Isaacs' number, so I might as well try? Chances are good he can drive; I've been told US-Americans find it useful. And he does care! He won't like driving out to the middle of nowhere to taxi a stranger, but he wouldn't want me to be out there all alone, especially not after what happened to his buddy...

Would I survive the drive back? Probably. The uncomfortable silence might come close to taking me out, not going to lie.

6: Oscar

Texting Reese might be a 50-50 chance of him even being awake, but Oscar? Man's a single dad with other things to worry about. There's no way he isn't snoring like a chainsaw when I text him in the middle of the night. Once he wakes up he's on the way of course, getting out at the ass-crack of dawn in his undershirt and jeans, but by the time he's arrived the first train of the day is just around the corner.

Would I survive the drive back? I mean, we're both tired and out of it and a little cranky, and we'll both be mostly quiet, but we can make it work.

5: Pastor Daniel

He doesn't get texts, like, ever, so if he happens to be asleep when I text him the foreign sound of his phone notifications going off will definitely startle him awake. And I like this guy. Like, actually. I'm offering several hours of socialising for this lonely man for the low, low price of whatever gas is worth these days. I'm told it's a lot. I don't drive. But I can promise him I will try to keep up a conversation, and I even grew up as a pretty serious catholic, so I can actually talk religion if he fancies it.

Would I survive the drive back? I'd need some time to recover from being social for such a long period of time without breaks, but it's not an unpleasant exhaustion.

4: Avery

Not to get too deep into the weeds, but Mystical told me that their biscuits are Good, capital G, and someone who puts the skill that could be renamed "Medically Concerning Levels Of Anxiety" at ease is someone I HAVE to trust. They'll come get me, we'll make pleasant conversation, they introduce me to some new tunes on the way back.....if I was sure they had a car. I don't know if they drive. They don't really have a vibe that screams I own a car and a license to me, y'know?

Would I survive the drive back? Not only that, I think I'd have a pretty good time. If they have a car. Which I'm not sure about.

3: Kaneeka

Kaneeka has a van, is notably a safe driver, and she's got a heart! Even if she hated my guts, she wouldn't leave someone who's name doesn't begin with T and doesn't end with Abitha Scarlet sleep rough on a bench in bumfuck nowhere! Even if she isn't happy about it, she will be on her way...if there's nothing getting in her way, that is. There might be some people having a vested interested in having her stay put, after all.

Would I survive the drive back? I'm not going to lie to you, I might be spending most of my time during this car ride putting together a scheme to wind up in a similar situation soon again. I won't apologise for being a Kaneeka guy.

2. Tabitha

Now Tabitha has proven her willingness and ability to come get me in any situation, even if she fucking hates my guts. I could text her please pick me up im scared from the fucking moon and she'd come. She'd figure out a way. And she'd chew me out the entire ride back until I'm seriously considering tucking and rolling and dragging my sorry ass back to the station instead. (And that's not even getting into the dodgy purpose she might be keeping us in one piece for!)

Would I survive the drive back? Barely. Brother, I would be barely holding on after the dressing-down I'd get from her. I might be a Tabitha guy in theory but I know that I don't have what it takes to survive her.

1. The Calloways

Yes, I also keep forgetting that Old Duke's last name is Calloway, and not the result of Mr and Mrs Duke giving their son the Christian name "Old". We KNOW they have a car. We KNOW Old Duke taught his boy to protect others who aren't able to protect themselves, and surely helping a dummy like me out of a tight spot must count as "protecting" someone less fortunate than them in the common sense department. Or the understanding of train timetables department.

Would I survive the drive back? I think I'd enjoy it, actually. I like those two. I wanna know more about them! I literally found out today that you can spend some quality time with Old Duke now and maybe that was the impetus that possessed me to write that entire shitpost in the first place!

finished my second bg3 run and was wondering if withers just goes back to sleep again after he verbally smites the dead three

Happy Star Wars Day! I’ve decided to make my Skywalker comic into one easily rebloggable post.

not gonna do it but the urge to respond to everyone going "man why wasn't varric dateable :(((" with "HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND HE HAS!! A GIRLFRIEND!!"

“i‘m sorry anakin, for all of it“

listened to "so american" on repeat, have toxic solavellan modern AU thoughts. this is what they are in canon. to me.

.

Your hand brushes his on the gear shift, and he smiles, not looking at you because his eyes are always on the road when he drives. Everything he does, he undertakes with a grave kind of seriousness, with you dutifully posing as distraction.

“You’re pretty,” he says when he stops at a red light, steals a glance at you. He’s the first man that didn’t feel insecure that his clothes fit you perfectly—the first man to meet your eyes and didn’t insist he was taller than you, actually. Why would he be insecure about this when he gains so much height in any other aspect of your lives?

He lifts his hand from the gear shift to brush your hair out of your face, just for a tiny, self-indulgent second. His fingers are cold to the touch. They always are.

You watch his profile as he switches his attention back to driving. In the warm sunset light, he looks almost divine. He is easy to worship, even when he claims not to want it. Sometimes you think that he’s not real at all, he’s just a figment of your imagination. He’s too perfect. He’s something out of a poetry book, but you don’t write anymore.

Whenever you make a joke, he laughs like it’s the first time he’s ever heard that one. He will smile to himself, then, a private, self-indulgent sneer, not directed at you but at what you represent in his eyes. Not always. Only when he remembers it. Only when he remembers that you are not the same.

“I do forget that you’re Dalish,” he’ll tell you.

It’s not fair that your heart jumps when he says it. It’s a compliment out of his mouth, and an insult to everything you grew up with at the same time. He looks at you in spite of.

You would follow him anywhere, glued to his lips, hungrily taking in everything he has to teach you. You would swear any oath that can bind you two together, if only to keep listening to him.

It might as well be love.

You have nothing to offer to him, of course. He’s more knowledgeable than you, and he thinks your practices are crude. He takes up every conversation you have; his words become yours, his wisdom echoes in everything you say.

In bed, he touches you like you’re the only thing that can sate him. He’s been starved of affection and you have denied it yourself for so long. You melt against him, let him reshape you, drinking in his praise like plants take in the sun.

“I do forget that you are Dalish,” he’ll tell you.

And you forget it too, because he makes it all seem so insignificant, all so small and laughable and worthless.

You choose him so quickly, from the moment you first meet him, but he falls just as fast. It’s not something you discuss, not at first. He kisses you, almost unthinkingly—only almost, of course, because he weighs his every action against the weight in his chest—and when he tries to turn away, you guide him back to you.

It has to be love.

He looks at you in spite of.

What if we held hands by the water bottle 😳😳 and we were both rats 😳😳