*g:mmw

I only heard about Magic Meat Week yesterday, but I had to take part. MMW is a commentary on the ‘empowering’ costumes that women in fantasy settings are put in… By putting male characters in similar such outfits.

So here’s Mordy. Mighty wizard. Mostly wearing his own wizardly clothes, but… Differently. It wouldn’t actually be hard to get him to wear this.

Mark My Words (VI)

The reception to the original post was so amazing, so thank you guys for motivating me to turn this into a little mini-series. Thank you for reading all these parts and getting excited about each one. You guys are really incredible people. I hope no one ever convinces you to dull your passion or excitement or enthusiasm. I hope you never lose that part of yourselves.

You can find the previous part and links to previous parts here.


What Owen loved most about his oldest daughter was the same thing Amelia had always teased him about. From the time she was a toddler, Amelia joked that he had nothing to do with making her. Though she got her more timid and soft-spoken personality from him, physically, Amelia’s joke rang true. Her eyes that changed from deep blue to a rich turquoise depending on the light, her dark brown, nearly black hair, her slim face and figure were all completely her mother. It was like looking at a smaller version of the person he loved most in the world, and it used to make him stare in amazement, the fact that he had aided in creating something so special in the world. He loved the idea of two little Amelia Shepherd’s running around. It used to make him smile.

Now it felt like someone punched him in the gut when she looked at him. All he could think about was the person that had yelled at him to get out, that had spewed angry words to cover up devastated eyes, a brokenness that he had put there. How could he look at her and not think of Amelia? It wasn’t her fault that she looked like her mother, and it wasn’t fair that he couldn’t even look at her when she spoke, but he couldn’t change it. He couldn’t even meet her eyes, he couldn’t ask her how her day was, he couldn’t be the father he believed himself to be.

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Mark My Words

Owen does something… unforgivable?


Every morning before Connor left the house for daycare, he ran into Gramma. Gramma wasn’t her real name, but he didn’t know her real name, and she liked being called Gramma. He met her on the sidewalk. One morning when Daddy was sick, Mommy had to take his sisters to school and him to the hospital with her to daycare, so she was extra busy and buckling in Ava, who was yelling that she wanted to stay home. Gramma looked like she needed a friend and Connor was awfully good at being a friend, you could ask anyone in his whole class and they’d tell you, he was sure of it, so he decided he could take the job on. He held her hand and walked her to the end of the sidewalk, but then he had to stop because he wasn’t allowed to cross the street. When they got there, she bent down and spoke for the first time.

“What’s your name?”

“Connor Shepherd Derek Hunt,” he boasted with his chin held high. “But my daddy calls me his best buddy. Are you a Gramma?”

“I think so,” she answered scratching her head, and Connor giggled. It was silly that she didn’t even know if she was a Gramma. Everyone knew if they were a Gramma. That was like Mommy not knowing she’s Mommy. “I’m going to see my daughter.”

“I don’t have one of those,” Connor told her.

“I should hope not.”

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