#aromanticsky

me: enjoying my fun little long-running procedural drama from the 2000s/2010s tv show: *casual fatphobia* *casual fatphobia* *casual fatphobia* *emphasis on how skinny the main cast is* *casual fatphobia* me: oh yeah… society hates fat people and none of My Characters are remotely close to even my mid-sized/verging-on-plus-sized-depending-on-the-store body shape let alone being actually fat…

a bazillion heart emojis ty :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

[ask game]

💄- Doll them up

this is what happens when you let juste borrow it to one of his stupid parties

[ID: a very small cactus in a pot. /end ID]

This is my baby cactus! I grew it from seed and I think it’s about two years old now. It used to be right at the edge of the pot but then I discovered it wasn’t rooted very deep there so I just moved the clump of dirt it was in to the middle to give it more space and am hoping it is successfully rooting deeper where it is now.

Thank you! ask game here

Happy STS!! And definitely Emilia. No hesitation. I love her to pieces, I'm putting her in a jar and shaking her, I'm blending her to a fine paste, I'm buying her yellow lipstick. I love her. There's a reason she's the only character I've commissioned artwork for.

As for Aidan... well, this actually comes up in Memento Vivere:

Aidan was no stranger to the cruelties of abusing someone’s love for someone else. His third wife—of four, so far, and unlikely to be more if he couldn’t get out of here, which was looking less and less likely—had looked at him like he’d hung the moon, and had been twenty years younger than him, only eighteen when they’d married. He’d married her because she was easy, because she was beautiful, and because she’d loved him. She’d fallen into his arms, believed anything he’d said, and he hadn’t even had to try with her the way he tried to convince the country that he could do better, this time, and he deserved the seat of power he was planning on embezzling money from.

[...]

Her father was in Aidan’s first cabinet for his new party. He’d been seeking power, much like Aidan, and had gladly handed his own daughter over for the chance to curry his favour. Anyone with eyes knew that Aidan was going to win—again—and anyone with eyes also knew that Aidan flipped through wives almost as quickly as he flipped through political parties, and so Aidan married his barely-legal wife on a cold December day, rain spitting down about them like disapproval from the gods. Amy had squealed with delight when he’d kissed her for the first time in front of the small crowd, mostly of her father’s friends. Her mother wasn’t told and found out through the newspapers, but Aidan hadn’t cared that he’d married a teenager and split the family into three. He had a pretty new wife on his arm and in his bed and she’d hung onto every word he said, and it had been satisfactory. Later, when she’d caught him balls deep in Miriam Fucking Fischer, he’d talked her around, telling her that it didn’t matter, he’d been married twice before her, that she was pure and touched only by Aidan, and that it didn’t matter what he did with his cock, and she’d agreed, and then he’d talked her into killing herself as he fucked the prostitute beneath him. Ten minutes later, and he’d talked Mary Mayland into revealing her real name.

She overdosed, and he made it look like an accident (she was so tragically young, after all, only twenty-one by her death), and then he got married again because he's awful.

Thanks for the ask!!

And that was a huge ass Memento Vivere chunk so I'll throw the taglist on here: @callmelyrae, @planets-collide, @mthollowell-writes