#*  asks

yup!! as seen in late chapter 5, in the POWER menu:

and previously, he/him HAD been used in the same menu, meaning this change was intentional and meaningful:

— @rascal-abernathy (trilogy)

i can't stop picking up new crafts and hobbies. like to the point where since the end of may i have started doing leatherwork and learning to knit in addition to my other craft hobbies.

i am allergic to garlic and only made the connection about it last month. i had been wondering why my cheeks got red and hot every time i ate something, but since significantly reducing garlic in my diet it has almost stopped happening.

how are we settling on fcs? i switch mine every other day and it's exhausting but maybe i'm just being too picky?

Are you like an archeologist

You can thank @tacomicfujoshi for 80% of it but it's also just fucking around. I've been going through individual tags and filtering by date so I can find older stuff I haven't seen before. Example/guide:

The last few days had been an absolute living nightmare for him. He felt a gnawing hollowness that he couldn’t explain, like something inside him had been ripped out and left to fester. He barely slept, and when he did, the nightmares jolted him awake, drenched in cold sweat. His hygiene had gone to shit; even the simple act of showering felt like too much effort.

He fucked up. He fucked up really bad.

If someone were to ask him why he’d tried to do what he did to her now, he wouldn’t be able to give an answer. He didn’t even know himself. And maybe that was the worst part of it all, because he never dwelled on regrets. He wasn’t the kind of person to second-guess his choices or care about the fallout. But now? Now it haunted him.

He was self-absorbed being the one people listened to or never stood up to, the minute he stopped having that respect, he took it out on and blamed Serena. Despite everything he’d done, despite every cruel thing he’d put her through, despite every vile thing he said to her, she saved him.

The bruises on his arms from the kidnappers' grip had faded, but the shame was stained permanently. He’d relive every single moment in the dead of night, his stomach twisting in knots as his mind churned with guilt and confusion while remembering the exact turn of events. The bags under his eyes deepened with every sleepless night, his usual swagger replaced by a slouch.

Part of him had debated ending it all now and just offing himself; what was even the point of living? He was no longer the Whitney that people were afraid of, the Whitney that got his way just by glaring at someone. Most of all, he now had to live with the overwhelming guilt of putting Serena in harm's way like that. The worst part of that is that through all of this, he realized he's in love with her - so in love with her that he can't even begin to think of how he can fix this mistake.

...So why live?

Serena, of course. That was the answer. It was the only answer he really needed right now, if it got him up, then it was all that was needed for right now. And that's when his eyes conveniently meet with a certain stuffed rabbit, it was something he was given a long time ago from a girl he used to know and probably the thing he's taken the most care of outside of any pets over the years. Call it a gut feeling, but something was telling him this rabbit was a lot more important now than ever.

He got out his phone and texted Serena; it was a simple 'Meet me at the park.', but it wasn't followed up by him calling her a slut; instead, a follow up message was sent: 'Please.'

She didn't respond, and that was about what he expected. He expected her to hate him now, god knows he hates himself more than ever before now - but that didn't stop him from still going to the park.

Because he hasn't eaten the last few days, he definitely lost a bit of weight - not a horrible amount, but enough for his current clothing to be a little baggier on him than they were before. He was wearing a hoodie that, ironically, Serena had gifted him with baggy sweatpants - more or less showing the depression dressed him more than he did.

It started to rain; not heavily yet, but a definite drizzle. It was shortly after the rain started that Serena actually showed up, which caused Whitney to stand up from the bench he slouched on and stare at her; it was weird how seeing her suddenly gave him these weird butterflies in his stomach that he never noticed before. It was as if a lot of that depression went away the minute he saw her.

But then...she was the first one to speak, and what she said was - "you won't have to deal with me much longer.”

Anna is still shaking off the pushback of the previous rounds' wind blasts when she is approached by a purple woman outside of the medical tents. Right, she recalls seeing Camilla running around the tents earlier after the first combat, treating those who were injured. How kind of her to pass a vulnerary in her time of need!

Wait no, under closer inspection upon being in front of her, the royale is not handing her a vulnerary. Instead it appears to be a...box of juice? Well, it is always important to stay hydrated, and her wounds are not that fatal to require the curative.

As she reaches over to receive the drink, the commander is met with the usual Anna-ly mixup of the day. Not that she can blame the confusion in the other's voice, it's almost natural. Anna is surprised that she hasn't caught her alternative self out here trying to make a quick buck...

"Ah, thanks!" Anna takes the box and swiftly inserts the straw for a sip to catch her breath. The label on front does not lie, there is indeed juice within the juice box. The redhead senses many fruits, along with a hint of...cranberry? Certainly a comforting taste after her knockout.