bisexual nonbinary people
bisexuals in relationships
bisexuals with a preference
bisexuals who haven’t dated more than one gender if any at all
physically disabled bisexuals
lesbians have singular, simple fins that folds out like a fan. they’re the color of summer sunsets, and look as though they’re curtains made of gossamer. they lead the sun down below the horizon at the end of each day, and make the water sparkle.
bi girls have dolphin tails–good for propelling them in any direction they choose to go. they are playful and lighthearted, and can jump up to ten feet high! they rescue sailors, men and women both, from shipwrecks without a second thought.
pan girls have seahorse tails, making them even faster and more elegant than the others. their tails are hard as rock, and they are the only ones who can swim around in circles without getting dizzy.
ply girls have shiny, sparkly tails that are covered in scales. they reflect the light of the sun, and absorb the light of the moon. their skin is transparent during the full moon, and they become silhouettes during the moon eclipse.
polyam sapphics have the strangest, most unique tails; some are like jellyfish, others have squid and octopus tails. all other mermaids agree that their undersea dances are the most beautiful of all.
ace sapphics have seal and manatee tails; they live near the north and south poles, and their bodies are hardwired for the cold. they have the power to control ice, and when you look into their eyes, you can see the aurora borealis reflected in them.
aro sapphics have barnacle-studded tails, and their bodies are nearly covered in coral. they live in the shallow pools of water near the shore, and sleep in the sun all day.
intersex sapphics are somewhere between human and mermaid traits; some have scales and webbing, others have fish tails split into two separate legs. they are able to navigate rough seas and tough, rocky spots that their sisters cannot.
trans sapphics have smooth tails that cover their chest and upper body. they collect shiny things, mainly gold and silver, and can change pieces of driftwood into jewelry and combs. many are able to and walk on land amongst humans.
nonbinary sapphics have rough, spiny tails that sometimes sting to the touch–as a protective mechanism. they can shapeshift whenever they look in a mirror, and appear as human or inhuman as they so please.
questioning sapphics live on the ocean floor, in the darkest depths of the sea. they are covered in glowing spots and have exotic-looking tails unlike anything you’d see on the surface.
all sapphics are mermaids, and all mermaids live in harmony and peace. we are sisters, and sisters protect one another. when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. when one of us has been hurt, we all share their pain.
WE DID IT! After 3.5 months and 33 non-stop pages our first chapter is finally complete. Will Frisk make it back home, or will Chara succeed in taking their soul? And what the heck is Asriel doing there?
Now that chapter one is nicely buttoned up, we are taking a short breather to get ahead on pages and sort out some blog business. However, we aren’t going dark! To accommodate our prep time while keeping the blog active, Caretaker-AU will undergo a temporary schedule change.
Ah! Wow! Woah! Here’s the next month:
Next week (Feb 20-26): One week of quiet. No major updates!
The following 3 weeks (Feb 27 - Mar 17): Weekly updates on Mondays. That’s one page per week for the 3-page Interlude.
After that we will resume the usual 2 pages per week schedule.
Why the schedule change?
Quite a few reasons actually! While the blog will be quieter, us mods will still be frantically working behind the scenes to prep the next section. We’ll be using this month to…
Get ahead! Despite tons of unforeseen obstacles, we’ve managed to never miss an update day… barely. These interruptions ate up our backlog and lately we’ve been working up until the last second every week. In order to spare ourselves, we’ll be using this time to work ahead so we don’t suffer deadline fatigue.
Fix the blog! We have a new theme in the works that should be easier to navigate and hopefully work around the mobile app issues.
Open commissions! We’ll draw what you want for the right price! Since we will be working around the main comic schedule, commission slots will be limited to just a few a month. Keep an eye out for the announcement!
Secret stuff! We’ve got some other blog stuff we need to finish up, but you’ll find out about that later… it’s a surprise!
Finally sleep? Nah, probably not.
And of course, we will continue to answer asks and post fanwork as usual! :D
“Interlude?” What’s that?
In our grand plan, we are using the space between main chapters to share mini-chapters we are calling “Interludes.” These short one-shots will provide insight and backstory related to Caretaker, and are a part of the overarching story.
Will you do this every time?
According to our script, Chapter 01 is the longest chapter in the story. Because of this, we may not need to change the schedule at every chapter break. It will all depend on our workload! Interlude segments will always be between main chapter breaks.
tl;dr: Interlude starts on February 27 Chapter 02 starts on March 20
↠ The Inquisitor and their Halla
Like the Dalish, the halla are proud. A halla knows who she is, and will tolerate no being that tells her she is less. They are not our servants. They are not our pets. They are our brothers and sisters.
Without the halla, there would be no Dalish.
Using the mod Halla-Back Girl by the incredible @lavellanlove for the first time and it’s everything we’ve ever wanted and Bioware never gave us. For as long as I played, it worked smoothly and the halla is so very visually pleasing, guys, you have no idea! It’s amazing, thank you so much! Seriously, everyone, go check out her blog and give her all the support!
Previous installment:Eggs (Attack of the Pregnancy Brain!)
November 23rd, 1950
“Happy Thanksgiving, Frasers!” Marian Harper sang out as she opened the door.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” we chorused in return, arms full of Bree and wine and basket of lemon meringue pie.
“Oof, come in out of the rain,” she clucked, ushering us into the warmth of her cozy foyer. “Though I guess we should thank our lucky stars it’s only rain, not the blizzard they’re getting down south!”
“Oh, aye,” Jamie agreed, deftly extricating Bree from her raincoat while still holding her. “Made it a bit slow-going on the drive over, but much preferable to snow.”
“And the rain’s good luck for Miss Bree! Happy BIRTHDAY, sweet pea!”
Thus addressed, Bree giggled and lurched forward into Marian’s arms, surprising all of us.
“Glad to see she’s finally getting less intent on clinging only to Mama and Da,” I laughed.
Jamie helped me out of my coat and sweetly kissed my cheek as we followed Marian into the living room. “I suppose being properly two years of age makes a difference, after all!”
Earlier that day
“Our wee lass doesna appear to be verra sensible of the grand occasion, Sassenach.”
I wiped my hands and turned quickly from the stove (which YES, I’d managed to turn on, thank you very much), beaming. Sure enough, Bree seemed about as interested in festivities as the average boulder. She had both arms around Jamie’s neck and was making it quite clear she was not in the mood to be up and about.
“Well, I suppose she doesn’t remember her last one, little as she was,” I conceded, coming close to tickle Bree lightly in the side. “Guess what, lovey-dove? It’s your BIRTHDAY!”
The dramatic excitement in my tone made her bolt upright at once, hair wild: curlywig to end all curlywigs. “S’bird-day?” she demanded.
“Yes, baby, it’s your birthday!”
“What-is ‘at, Mama? Mama?” She continued to screw her face up at me in concentration as Jamie buckled her in to the high chair. “What-IS ‘at, bird-day? Mama? Mama, what?”
“It means ,” Jamie offered, settling next to her and putting out one of his hands for hers, “the day you were *born,* a leannan.”
“What-is-it, ‘borrnd,’ Daddy?”
“It means the day God gave ye to Mama and me,” he said patiently, “So, it’s a verra special day, aye?”
“What-is-’at?” she said immediately, lacing her fingers together and flapping them about. “Daddy, dinna kennit. What is-’at ‘spedchill’?”
Jamie sighed, love and exasperation so perfectly mingled in that way unique to parents. “’Special’ means…the verra best. Just like you, sweet wee cub.”
“See my-dese jammies?” she chirped, changing direction with lightning speed. “Dey’re porpoor, Daddy, see’um?”
“Aye,” he laughed, “I see, a leannan.”
She pulled at the fabric of her top. “Dey’re spedchill?”
“Aye, those are verra SPECIAL purple Jammies,” he said, meeting my eye and trying not to laugh.
“Your birthday,” I said significantly, walking over to them with Bree’s breakfast held high, “is the day where Mama and Daddy talk about how JUST how much we LOVE our Bree.” I bent and latched onto her sweet, dimpled cheek in a huge, long mmmmmm-ing kiss and Jamie came in to do the same on the other. Bree, caught between us in a smooch sandwich, was giggling so hard she was fit to choke.
“Those are your first presents,” I said pulling back. “Two kisses for your second birthday. And here’s the next!” I slid the plate onto the tray in front of her for inspection.
“Sassenach….That is…” Jamie looked up at me with the queerest expression on his face. “…the *Cutest* thing I’ve ever seen.”
It was little more than a circle with two lopsided ears, but I’d embellished a snout with banana slices and chocolate chips for nose and eyes, and powdered sugar to top things off.
Yes, it was fairly bloody adorable.
Bree squealed. “Issa—Lookint-’im-that-wee BEAR, Daddy!” She hooted in delight and then began promptly to demolish said wee bear.
“You’d best slow down, mo chridhe!” Jamie laughed. “He’s going to roar in your tummy for gobbling him up so fast!”
Bree’s mouth was so full she couldn’t reply, but there came a happy, muffled *mmphurr!?!* that signified her excitement to see this play out as soon as humanly (bearly?) possible.
“So neither of you have ever had Thanksgiving before?” Tom asked as he poured Jamie a glass of wine in the sitting room.
“No, indeed!” I settled back onto the sofa with a cup of tea. “A singularly American holiday, this one.”
Tom furrowed his brows. “But you were here stateside last year too, weren’t you, Claire?”
“Oh, yes, well….Yes, but I wasn’t in the going-out frame of mind, to be honest.”
“It was a different life, before you came back, Jamie,” Marian said knowingly, beaming from the floor, where Bree was sitting on her lap playing with her birthday present from the Harpers. “We’re glad you did.”
“As am I, a nighean,” he said warmly to her, then met eyes with me. Glad doesna even begin to express it.
It would have been a thoroughly lovely moment, except morning sickness had come a-calling with a VENGEANCE today, and I had to close my eyes while yet another urge to vomit abated.
Jamie noticed and made as if to come to me, but just then, the doorbell rang, followed almost immediately thereafter by Della O’Malley running head-on into Jamie and nearly spilling his wine as she barreled around the corner. He managed to catch her with his free hand, and she looked as though he’d hung the bloody moon. “Hi, Mr. Fraser,” she said breathlessly, gazing up into his face.
“Happy Thanksgiving to ye, Miss Della.” He kissed her hand, which sent her into paroxysms. Jesus H. Christ, the girl needed a cold shower, pronto.
Thankfully, though, it seemed her glow wasn’t *entirely* due to infatuation with Jamie. “Claire! Claire, guess what?” she said, bouncing in my direction.
“Peter asked you to go steady?” She’d been talking about this boy for weeks, it was about time he made a move.
“YES!!!” she squealed, thudding into a chair next to me. “Can you BELIEVE IT!??!”
“Wine, Claire?” Tom said, coming over with a glass.
“Oh, no, thank you.”
“No, thank you, Tom, I’m all—” Good Heavens, I nearly burped in the poor man’s face, but managed to choke back the wave of acute nausea and croak, “—
all set with my tea.”
I could have sworn Marian gave me a suspicious look, but thankfully, Jamie came to my aid. “So, from what I gather, the festivity centers around coming together and eating in a spirit of gratitude. But that’s about all I ken of it. Is there more?”
I had told him the story earlier that morning, in fact, but I was grateful for the diversion while Tom gave the Proud Son of Massachusetts recitation of the Thanksgiving tale.
Jamie nodded in approval. “Thanks be to God for the kindness of the native folk, then. I must say, I enjoy hearing tales of anyone that managed to fly in the face of the English crown—Sorry Sassenach,” he added with a grin.
“Does Scotland not belong to England?” Della asked, bewildered.
“Depends on who ye ask,” Jamie laughed. “Suffice it to say, there’s a reason the marriage between Claire and me raised no small number of eyebrows.”
“But you married anyway,” Della swooned, “how roMANTIC!!”
Jamie grinned and sat down next to me. “Verra romantic indeed.” He saw my pallor and squeezed my hand, speaking low so only I could hear. “Are ye feeling alright, Sassenach?”
“Bit queasy,” I admitted, resisting the urge to clutch my abdomen.
“Can I get ye anything?”
“No,” I whispered, squeezing his hand. “But thank you. Just have to wait for young Fraser here to settle down.”
He smiled and ducked his head, trying not to let the others see the direction of his tender gaze.
We had agreed not to announce the pregnancy until the three-month mark, as was customary. We knew better than anyone that tragedy could still strike after the first trimester, but had decided that for Brianna’s sake, at least, it was best to wait until the highest risk of miscarriage was past….even though acknowledging the possibility of losing another child sent claws of fear tearing at my heart.
But I’d carried one child safely; Lord willing, I could do so again.
Please, Lord, keep this little one safe.
Jamie wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me closer. “I am thankful, today, ye ken?” he whispered.
“Oh?” I murmured back, looking into his eyes, curious, but already smiling from the tone in his voice. “Whatever for?”
“For ourdaughter. For you carrying her. Giving her life, this day two years ago. For—” His voice caught, just barely. “—For how ye went on living when ye didna wish to…” He gently touched my face. “For working as hard as ye do, at home and at the hospital….For being my wife. For….well…” He very discreetly touched my belly. “For our children. And for taking care of us in this new world”
I ran my hand down the side of his face, unable to speak as I kissed him. Come what might in 1951, never had I had a year in which there was so much for which to give thanks as 1950.
“I’m going to shrivel up and DIE from how much you love each other,” came Della’s tremulous threat. “Just you WAIT.”
You know what’s something that I love about the Portal series that sets it apart from a lot of other games?
Portal is, unnecessarily, very musical.
Its a puzzle game, there’s literally no reason for it to be as musical as it is. I’m not just talking about the score, either, though it is incredible. All video games have some kind of music so that you aren’t listening to nothing while you travel around maps and shoot at things. And for RPGs the music is a very important part of storytelling. Undertale did this masterfully.
But I’m talking about how you find easter eggs of turrets singing to each other as a past time, or how one of the loading screens is Potatos lamenting about being thrown down into old Aperture. Music is a theme in the game. Putting aside the music that you test by, these are examples of all the musical encounters you have just by walking around the game without tripping a cut scene. (Though I would like to note that GLaDOS singing the ending credit song for each game was also a very odd path for Valve to take that paid off. )
- Exile Vilify on the radio.
- Still Alive on the radio.
- Turrets practicing ‘Turret Wife Serenade’.
- The companion cube sings a version of ‘Cara Mia Addio’ when you pick it up.
- Funnels have their own music.
- Test Chamber 20 of Portal 2; the laser buttons have rhythm when they’ve all been activated.
- The things that re-direct lasers make their own music too.
- Wheatley plays classical music to try and show off to the player.
- The Announcer plays smooth jazz for you in one of the earlier tests.
I know I’m still missing some, but if you were to take these out of the game nothing would change. They don’t add anything to the story (aside from Wheatley trying to prove he isn’t a moron and failing at it), and some of them are Easter Eggs so you could just as easily miss them. There’s no point to them being there but we love that they are. It adds a character and charm to the game, like the Aperture facility itself is a big orchestra with robots that love to sing.
And it leaks into its fan base, too. We have a Portal 2: Musical that has been performed twice! Harry101UK makes his own original Portal music videos and tracks as a hobby.The Portal Stories: Mel mod not only uses all of its own original music, but it also has hidden musical easter eggs like a radio playing a rock version of ‘Want You Gone’. The most popular Portal fanfiction, ‘Blue Sky’, is named and themed after a song by Electrical Lights Orchestra. It is almost mandatory that if you are to make Portal content the universe you’ve created does not seem complete unless there is at least one hint at its musical themes. (That’s my opinion anyway, I realize the first game wasn’t nearly as crafty with its usage of music as much as Portal 2 was)
I dunno, it was just a thought I was sitting on for a while that I really appreciate the franchise for.
hey I just realized something in toby's tweet quote "(apparently) the genesis of papyrus" there is some concept art with part of it blacked out it seems to say quote "has a brother named comic sans and a (blacked out)named(blacked out) I'm surprised no one has ever talked about this but it's still on his twitter could this confirm that the skeleton family originally had an extra member that could have been in game
As seen in the tweet you have referenced there is indeed a peculiar little hush-hush at play. Unfortunately, details regarding the skelebros’ pasts and extended family (if there are any to speak of) are heavily speculative at best.
The most obvious and often-assumed connection is to W. D. Gaster, for a number of reasons. His background in science could easily be linked to Sans, and his name is likely a play on the Wingdings and Aster fonts. More importantly, the elusive second Entry #17, presumably penned by him, is in Wingdings. This creates a dialogue gimmick for him most reminiscent of Sans and Papyrus.
Considering his mysterious disappearance and dubious presence in the Underground, it’s almost fitting his name is blacked out in such a way.
There is also another, even more elusive possibility. Within the Undertale Demo code, there is a sound file called grandpasemi.ogg, most reminiscent of Metal Crusher. This track may have at one point belonged to another member of skeleton family, due to the fact that Semi is an existing, if highly specialized font. This file still exists in the game as grandpatemi, played only when during a fight, you refuse to give Tem any of your hard-earned Temmie Flakes (this only occurs in v.1.001 of the game). Grandpa Semi therefore remains a complete enigma.
Unfortunately, even though there are some very faint breadcrumbs present, only one person really knows the answer for sure, and it doesn’t seem like he’s willing to bark out anything coherent anytime soon.
You don’t know a fat person’s health by just looking at them. Just like how you don’t know a thin person’s health by looking at them. You are not my doctor.
Even if a fat person is unhealthy so fucking what? It’s none of your business. Fat people don’t owe you an apology for existing.
Amazing how if a fat person refuses to only eat salads or dares to eat in public, you think you have the right to harass them. As if the world revolves around you. You never give thin people shit for eating unhealthy foods, so why bother an innocent fat person? Oh right, you don’t see us as people.
As far as eating healthy goes, you don’t know by looking at someone if they have a food allergy. Or have food sensitivities or other food issues like my sensory issues. You also don’t know how accessible or affordable healthy foods are for them. Or if they have the time and spoons required to cook healthy foods. Are you going to buy healthy groceries and cook healthy foods for a fat person? No? Then shut the fuck up and let us buy and eat what we want.
If a fat person wants to work out, you ridicule them. If a fat person doesn’t want to work out or can’t, you ridicule them. So how the fuck are we supposed to exercise if we get shit for going to the gym? You can’t claim you want us to exercise and then mock us when we do.
A person’s worth is not dependent on their clothing sizes or weight. Do us all a favor and super glue your computer and lips shut.
Here at ImagineClaireandJamie, we the mods choose the kinds of fics that we publish. Prompts that follow our posted guidelines, have a focus on Claire and/or Jamie, and have a mod interested in writing them are welcome and filled as inspiration strikes. We have many mods because we––like our readers and the fandom as a whole––don’t all see things the same way; we all have different tastes in our fanfic reading and writing, too.
Nowhere on our blog do we have a promise that everyone will be happy about every fic that we write and post. Most of our readers know and understand this and are quite gracious if and when fics we post are not to their specific taste. When we get messages like yours, all it inspires us to do is close our inbox and work on the prompts that we already have (and we have done this in the past so don’t think we won’t do it again). Please don’t ruin things for all of the appreciative readers with better manners and please respect the prompts submitted by others.