#Also unrelated but I think that if I were to wake up to a misty morning where I don’t have to go to school

[fluffybunbunposts]

”I was born in the wrong generation” I sigh, flopping onto my bed. You look up to me, saying “oh what, you wish you lived in the eighties?”.

“How did you know?” I reply. “I just really think that being a farmer in 80 AD would solve all my problems y’know”

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Angst prompt #48: “Wake up! Please don’t do this to me.”

This one actually got two requests, the second from a private message from @undertaker991

It suuuper angsty below; and the “Read More” cut hasn’t always been working with me on answers, so here’s your warning: blood, aftermath of a fight, and apparent (but not actual) character death. I really needed this to have a happy ending, and it does.

(I’ll also be posting a fluff that I wrote, totally unrelated, just needed a little balance in the world. Look for that within half an hour or so.)

Edit - forgot the prompt list, which can be found here! Still working my way through the prompts, but if you send me an ask or private message or @ me in a comment, I’ll see what I can do!

--

“Crowley?” Aziraphale leaned against the wall, wiping blood and sweat from his eyes. His head still buzzed but that – and his misty vision, and his ringing ears – seemed to be clearing up.

“I think they’ve gone, Crowley.” He shook his head, and the room came into focus. The walls of the abandoned building were marred by the signs of struggle, deep gashes cut by demonic claws and angelic blades. Cracks, burns, portions of wall that were simply missing, the ceiling above slowly sagging as gravity reasserted itself.

“Oh…d-dear…that looks…unsafe.” He staggered forward a few steps, pausing until the room stopped spinning. “We should…head home before…”

Aziraphale was alone.

Well, not entirely alone. All around him lay the bodies of their attackers, strewn about the wide room. Some were broken, lying in pools of ichor. Many had simply fallen where they stood, or dropped while trying to escape. It looked like a few had gotten away.

Aziraphale was glad; it didn’t matter how terrified he’d been when the band of angels and demons ambushed them, or how hopeless the fighting had seemed – he was glad some had escaped in the end.

But where was Crowley?

They’d stood together at the start, back-to-back, surrounded by enemies. But by the end – when Aziraphale had done…whatever he’d done – they’d been separated, both lost in the confusion.

“Crowley, please, if you’re unharmed, say something!”

Not a sound.

Aziraphale stumbled through the room, eyes frantically scanning the bodies on the floor.

No evidence remained of his final attack, except a strange electricity in the air. Aziraphale still didn’t know how it had happened. One moment he’d been pinned down, wounded, unable to fight. The next, that strange energy had surged through him, that power, blindingly bright—

Had he hurt Crowley?

How could he not? He’d never experienced anything like that before. Hadn’t known how to control it, direct it, how to do anything but let the power consume him, unleash itself in every direction—

“Crowley!” The faces of their attackers were frozen, twisted in pain or fear. None of them stirred, nothing in the whole room stirred. “Crowley, please, say something! Where are you?”

There! A splash of bright red hair in a pile of bodies. Aziraphale scrambled over, falling to his knees.

Two angels had held Crowley, trapped. He tossed them aside easily now, along with the heavenly knives they carried. One had gotten a hit in, a deep wound on the demon’s side, before they all collapsed. But now Crowley’s face was too pale, too still. He wasn’t even breathing.

“Crowley! I’m here now, darling, do you hear me?”

Nothing.

Aziraphale ran his hands over the wound, trying to heal it. He managed on the third attempt, enough to slow the bleeding, to stabilize, but even that familiar miracle left him weak and nauseous.

“Does that feel better?” He waited for the color to return to Crowley’s cheeks and lips.

It didn’t.

“Crowley, this – this is no time for a nap.” He shook the demon’s shoulder, causing his head to wobble on his neck. Nothing more. “Crowley! I need – listen, I need you to wake up.” He took his friend’s hands – they were ice cold. He poured what warmth he could into them. “Crowley, answer me!”

There was nothing left to heal. No movement, no sound. As if that final blast of energy had—

No no no no no…

“Crowley! Open your eyes!” He cradled that long, familiar face, filing it with every scrap of healing power he could muster. “Please, you have to wake up!” I wouldn’t hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt you. “Move! Speak! Anything!” I love you. You love me. “Please, Crowley, please!” You’re the only being who ever truly loved me, and I— “Wake up! Please, don’t do this to me! Don’t—”

I killed you.

Aziraphale all but collapsed onto the floor, one hand resting uselessly on Crowley’s chest. No breath. No heartbeat. They were optional, but he and Crowley had promised to keep their hearts beating, so they could always feel each other, always know…

“I’m sorry,” he moaned, as a new pain tore him from the inside out, a pain worse than any wound he’d ever suffered. “I’m so sorry. I should have – I shouldn’t have – I don’t know what – Oh, Crowley. Crowley!”

His hand trembled, and the shake ran across Crowley’s chest, up his neck, parted his lips.

“…ngel…”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cupped shaking hands around his chin. “Crowley? Can you hear me? Are you…are you…your heart…it isn’t…”

“Too weak.” He stirred, just the smallest movements, too small even for Aziraphale to see, but he felt them in his heart. “Y’got’em?” One eye cracked open, a narrow sliver of gold.

“Yes. Yes, dear, I – I believe I did.”

“Good.” The eye shut again. “S’my Angel.”

“Crowley, stay with me.” One hand slid into bright red hair, holding on for dear life. “I – I didn’t mean – I can’t – I don’t – please. Stay with me.”

“M’not goin’nywhere.” The eye cracked open again. “Cept home. S’cold here. Lessgo home.”

His fingers brushed Crowley’s cheek. “Yes. We can go home.” But instead, Aziraphale lay down, pressing close against Crowley, and cried. Deep, soul-wrenching sobs, every tear he’d ever held back pouring out onto his demon’s shoulder.

“S’righ’ngel.” Crowley murmured, and tried to lift a wing to cover them. It barely moved. “S’a’right…”

Aziraphale shook out his own wing, covering Crowley, shielding them both from the world. “I – I’m sorry,” he managed. “I love you so much, and—”

“Shhh.” Crowley’s fingers numbly clutched at Aziraphale’s. “M’here. Y’r here. S’all that matters.”

Nodding, Aziraphale pulled closer and started gathering the energy to bring them home.

[leguin]

They leave Palm Springs in separate cars, Sarah headed to her apartment in Austin and Nyles going to pick up his dog, and then on to his house in Santa Cruz. She stops for gas and a late lunch at a combination Dennys-Cinnabon-Subway-Arco’s, an absolute monstrosity of a building that she takes a picture of and texts to Nyles with the caption ‘missed the fine dining opportunities outside of palm springs.’

It’s the first text she’s ever sent him. She thinks it’s alright.

She’s watching the numbers tick up on the gas pump when he texts back oh thank god, and then her phone starts buzzing with a call.

“I wasn’t sure if we were supposed to be chill about this and wait 72 hours before contact, or…” Nyles says, and she laughs.

“Have you ever actually done that?”

“Well, no,” he says, and she can imagine his expression perfectly as he says it, eyes darting to the side and mouth tilting up unevenly with a sort of performative embarrassment. “You’ll note that I didn’t double text, though. I do have some decorum. Anyway, totally unrelated, I just remembered that I live with Misty! And also she’s kicking me out, because we broke up. And she thinks I cheated on her with you, which maybe I technically did? It was more of an emotional affair, if anything, but -“

“Nyles,” she cuts in, and he stops “Yep, right, sorry.”

“Do you have anywhere to live?” she asks, as the pump starts beeping.

“Well, funny you should ask that, because I was thinking: we shouldn’t move in together, right?”

“…right,” she says, after she takes a moment to picture it: waking up in the same bed together, arguing over what to make for dinner, buying hideous furniture together at yard sales. Vacuuming up metric tons of dog hair from every surface in her apartment. “That seems -“

“Premature, I agree. I’m glad you think so, but I figured it’d be weird to not bring it up, since we’re - you know.”

She does know, or at least as much as he does, which doesn’t feel like much. All the words she can think of feel both juvenile and - premature. What is she supposed to call him, her boyfriend? It’s too much and not enough all at once.

It’s the latter part of that sentiment that makes her say, “You should move to Austin, though.”

[nightmaretyrantvantas]

Sleepless nights and a shift in character developments- A homestuck au strider story

I wrote this during a bout of insomnia(partially caused by excitement) and I couldnt stop thinking about it

@turing-tested This comes from one of the MANY things I babbled about this character, so if you see this you might recognize it. 

Im going to post more about this character soon its just alot to compile for one post-at least 5 years worth or development and passion so bear with me please

Note before reading : This is in the best put terms, an au epilogue i made before homestuck even finished, and the only thing accurate to any current epilogues is the canon kids ages. 

This is long and gets a bit dark and emotional and angsty but I promise it has a happier ending. It also glosses over some heavier themes like mentions and brief discussions of nonspecified eating disorders, so if that makes you uncomfortable you can skip this

enjoy

whrrz….whrzz…..whrrzz….

The damn clock ticking was endless. The figure tossed and turned restlessly on the bed, kicking and pulling up the cotton sheets as they ceiling fan lazily spun uncaringly from above. After another bout of struggling for comfort there was a glance at the nearby digital clock

2:45 a.m

“Goddammit……” 

With a angry groan the girl fell heavily onto her back and dragged her hands down her face, staring up at the ceiling with exhaustion. This just kept happened to her, ever since she and all her friends and people she gave any shits about crashed here in a new world. No matter what she did she could never get a full nights sleep, plagued by either ruthless insomnia or vicious night terrors. Pick your poison a night. It didnt matter what the 19 year old did really, nothing eased it. And so she stared at the bedroom ceiling and the spinning fan hopelessly before she finally dragged herself up into a sitting position, head hung low. Even with moonlight streaming in blue light things felt too dark. So one tired Dian Strider fumbled her hand around the room and turned on tv on the other side of the room, wincing and squinting as its bright changing light filled her room. She glanced back at the clock and grimaced at the two minutes that had passed. Then she shut her eyes and listened, muting the tv. The apartment was quiet….too quiet…

Her eyes snapped back open, a new look of anxiety crossing her face. 

“ Hes not back yet….its Wednesday…hes late…” She shook her head and looked at the wall by her bed, at the pinned up pages of scribbles hanging there contently

WEDNESDAY : RETURNS BY 1 AM

Now she as on her feet and pacing around on fragile boned legs, absently gnawing on the scarred knuckle of her index finger. Her thoughts drifted and tumbled through her sleep deprived brain worriedly, though she wouldnt admit it aloud just yet.

Dirk wasnt home yet. He shouldve been home by now. But hes not….is he?

She stopped and looked at her bedroom door, unlocked and fully capable of opening and revealing the knowledge she wanted to know, all outside her little space.

But could she handle opening it?

With a new look of tired firmness she padded barefoot across the carpet and opened her door as silently as she could. If he WAS back she didnt want to wake him up. And there it is illuminated by the light in her room and the gently dim moonlight from the staircase and hallway window : Dirk’s bedroom door, firmly closed. She took a few light steps and Dia was now in front of it, hand grazing the doorknob as doubts made her pause. Sure, she had been living with him for almost 5 months now, and sure he had been more than welcoming and generous in his…weird stoic and socially avoident tendencies and eccentricities. Dia couldn look passed those, who was a shattered and violently anti social and mistrusting girl to judge the man who gave her and her little brother a roof to sleep under and a home to call their own when he had absolutely no obligation to? The answer was she wasnt anyone to judge him.

Not after he let her take on his last name to ease some of the trauma.

But were they really close enough to give her the right to just….turn the knob and open his door as if she was really family?

‘ Yes. we…we are? God i dont really know…But Hal gave me an ok to do so if I needed to talk or got too anxious…he said Dirk doesnt mind me leaning on him a little…so…this should be fine…to just peek in and see if hes in there…even if hes not asleep…I can just make some excuse about…fuck…anything…’ With a metaphorical slap to the face and a small huff of “ Just do it already dia stop being a pansy its just Dirk” she tightened her grip with more false confidence and turned it, slowly pushing it open just enough to poke her head in…

Just to find it empty. 

She blinked and her shoulders slumped in disappointment. He wasnt there, which mean he just…probably wasnt home yet. 

So she re shut the door without venturing further and walked over to the stairs that led down to the first floor and front of the apartment and ended up slumped across one of the sturdy steps, glaring at the wall upset and exhausted….so exhausted that her eyes fell without her realizing…letting her drift into an uneasy sleep….

And fell straight into a unrelenting nightmare.

She was forced out of it by the sound of something slamming downstairs  followed by a thump she didnt register. Because she was sitting straight up shaking violently and tearing up, fingers digging painfully into her arms as she hugged herself, breathing too fast. She looked around like a cornered animal until she was able to calm down a little, her surroundings settling back into her mind. But that slam…

Dia was on her feet gasping for breath a little as she stumbled down the rest of the stairs and out into the living room, tripping on her own two feet in her panic. She felt so small and alone and alone was the one thing she didnt want to be for a little while–

And all the spinning in her head stopped when she saw him.

He was sprawled out not all that gracefully on the beat up grey couch, one of his arms hanging off as his legs dangled over the arm. His blonde hair, much lighter than hers was a damp mess of spikes from being outside in the misty rain of before dawn that plastered against his forehead and into his uncovered, shut eyes. On his hand against his chest were his sharp shades, a dim and fading red glow slowly going out on them, a clear indicating Hal was asleep. She watched his chest rise and fall rhythmically and deeply, indicating he was already fast asleep. She figured it was from the past couple all nighters he’d pulled, between work his own projects and his nightly outings. Dia watched him sleep for a few moments then quietly walked over to his side, noting the familiar bags of insomnia under his eyes even in the dim lighting Silently she sighed and walked over to another chair in the room and grabbed a two blankets off it, a soft knitted one Dave left here from someone she was had met two times now named Rose and a thicker fabric quilt thing Dirk’s had since before she arrived, mentioned by Hal to have been a apartment warming present from friends named Jane and Roxy. She carried them over to him and with a wobbly stance and some struggling to not wake him or Hal up draped the quilt over his body, making sure it wasnt awkwardly on him. 

Then Dia wrapped the knitted blanket around herself and plopped down on the floor next to his side, facing him and watched over him for awhile. 

It wasnt anything special or life changing to her at first. She just…her brain was in a dark place and right now, The man before her was a very real and very present and constant reminder of the good in her situation. She was out of that hellscape, she was free.

She was safe and in a better place. Next to him the these early hours of the morning on the living room floor nothing bad from her past could hurt her or reach her. And that was all she needed.

So Dia made herself more comfortable and leaned on the couch in the space next to his chest and side and leaned her head against the quilt covered space until it barely, just barely pressed up against said bodily area as her body curled and folded into a comfortable spot doing so and her tired clementine eyes drowsily watched the movement of his breathing and the distant tick of a far off clock until she didnt even notice herself falling fast asleep at his side, nightmareless for the first time in months.

‘ Dirk…dirk wake up already.’

‘Dirk I know you can still hear me, wake up’

It was irritatingly bright with the morning sun when Dirk finally pried his eyes open, squinting up in pain at the ceiling. God was he fucking regretting passing out on the couch right now. So he quietly unfolded his only small salvation from the light and slid the shades over his orange eyes, blinking the exhaustion from them after with a yawn.

‘ nngh….Hal buddy you on already?’ He got an immediate, if not amused answer that made him practically imagine the body motion and expression that shouldve accompanied it. He couldnt help but smile a little and crack his neck in an attempt to ease the stiffness….god he needed a new damn couch.

‘ Dirk…dirk look down.’ He quirked an eyebrow but didnt even get a chance to ask 

Because he moved his hanging arm and brushed against another solid mass that made him look down anyway.

He didnt dare move for a few moments when he saw Dia curled up beside him on the floor, his hand having brushed against the slim girl’s too bony arm. But didnt wake up, only shifted slightly as her head burrowed into his side a bit, looking more relaxed than he’d ever really seen her. 

‘ When did she…?’

‘ I am not sure. she was already there asleep when I first started up this morning. I can only assume shes been there since we got home.’ He dragged a hand through his hair as he looked over her and carefully moved his arm so he didnt wake her up.

Dirk decided not to sit up or move from the couch yet either. 

‘ She almost looks happy…’

“ Yeah… I know. Too bad she doesnt always look like this…’ There was a silence between them and Dirk sighed through his nose. 

‘…im going to make breakfast.’ Was the only thing Dirk finally said before carefully getting up and heading to the kitchen. ‘ Oh? Thats a first for you…you normally skip breakfast.’ Dirk didnt respond right away, scavenging the simple, cluttered kitchen for anything to cook and scrunching his nose a little when he wasnt really finding anything.

‘ Dirk you KNOW there hasnt been any grocery restocking since you started your latest project…’ He groaned and pressed his forehead against the freezer door and stayed quiet for another moment, gears in his head turning and things lining up in his head. Hal didnt try prodding him too much for an answer. He knew the human too well by now, Dirk was working something out in his head. And on top of that he had barely been awake maybe twenty minutes after a total of maybe four or five hours of sleep, doing three all nighters before that. So Hal wasnt quick to call Dirk all to responsive lately. 

Maybe he should contact Jane after all to get him into a healthier…well…anything.

“ ….I really didnt want to go outside this early…but if the kid will be asleep for awhile…hmm…” 

‘ Hmm what?’ The blonde shook his head a little and rubbing an eye with the palm of his hand as if forcing the drowsiness away. 

“ Hey Hal….mind messaging Dave for me and asking when he’s planning to come back home from Karkat’s this week?” ‘…alright Dirk I am, anything else?’ Hal asked, a bit sympathetic at the exhaustion in his voice. He knew Dirk didnt like to bother Dave with too much, especially when the younger strider stayed with them specifically to make sure Dirk took care of himself. He wanted him to live his own damn life without worrying about him, and so didnt ask him when he was coming back or how long he’d stay.

“…yeah. Ask him if its today and if he could possibly grab some groceries on his way home…” There was a silence but Hal told him he would and Dirk’s shoulders slumped when they got the reply that Dave would show up in about a half hour, and asking for a general list or if he should just wing it. 

Dirk said to just wing it. He wasnt picky right now.

Dia hadnt woken up by the time Dirk pulled on a decently cleaner shirt and his shoes, though she had shifted somewhat. He was a little relieved, she’d been sleeping worse than him recently and any rest was good rest. Yeah…it was was all he concluded as he slipped outside into the bright sunlight and sat on the stoop step that led into the apartment, absently gazing over the city lost in thought. 

“ Yo Dirk.” He glanced down to see Dave coming up the steps in casual clothing, face mostly neutral as he carried up two big bags of food. Dirk saw the slightly furrowed brows and the way his mouth tugged down in concern and heaved a sigh, standing and walking down to take one of the bags.

“ Gotta be quiet when you go in, the kid’s fast asleep in the living room and I kinda want her to stay that way. Where’s Derik?” Dave shrugged as he followed him up.

“ He was video calling Jay when Hal pestered me, so I left him be and came alone.” He got a nod as they walked in, Dave raising an eyebrow seeing Dia on the floor but not voicing the question. 

Dirk probably didnt move her so she’d sleep longer. He knew she had issues with being touched.

Though when they entered the kitchen his eyebrows furrowed again.

“ Dirk when was the last time you cleaned the damn apartment? You’ve got shit lying everywhere again it wasnt like this when I was here last.” The older man shrugged as he shoved junky clutter out of the way and replaced it with the bag of food, not exactly wanting to answer. The knight sighed and resisted any urges to smack the other person he considered family. Because goddamn was it hard to resist when he was falling back into bad habits and going back on months of progress being made.

“ You know what? Dont worry about it Dirk. I’ll help you pick up later or something since I’m here. Lets just get all the food put away and make something to eat, because damn am I starved and Im sure she will be too once she actually wakes up.” Dirk mumbled an agreement and started putting things away and setting stuff up to cook…something, anything. 

“ So…what is with the sudden desire to make breakfast? Hal and I usually have to force you not to skip it.” Dave wasnt really expecting an answer, To be honest neither was Hal at that point. Dirk was clearly in a more antisocial mood and that was fine really, but the silence was making the shorter blonde…twitchy. Maybe he just wasnt used to it anymore, when he considered half the time he stayed with Karkat further out of the city in a house that was distinctly more…energetic with two teenagers running around living with them. He had thought having Dia here might break him out of that but she could be just as bad as he was honestly, a sometimes too perfect match in their isolation habits.

He was thinking about it so much he almost missed Dirk’s reply, turning towards him blinking. 

“ Wait wha–” “ I said I’m not doing it for me…im making food for Dia.” There was a moment of a much more fragile silence and dirk pulled off Hal and set him on the counter, gripping it with both hands as he stared tiredly at the wall and cabinets in front of him, his eyes a bit distant as if he was seeing something else entirely Dave couldnt. He sighed heavily and continued with a low tone that sounded like he was trying to stay neutral, unemotional about it.

“ She doesnt eat enough. Coming from me already is a big deal but, I…Im almost positive she has some sort of eating disorder Dave. One she just wont tell me about. But I see the signs of it all over her. The underweight, the fragility of her whole body, the fatigue, the way she tries to avoid eating as much as possible, the way she hides herself away after meals…but I cant push her either because well fuck. What place do I have to really say anything? I’m not blood related, I’ve only known her about 5 months and ive barely tried to get to know her that much or get close to her but she’s grown on me a little and im worried one of these days her insomnia and her lack of eating are going to do her off right under my nose and there’ll be no one to blame but myself for not looking out for her enough. Like fuck,” His nails scrapped along the counter as his fingers curled in frustration. “ Im a goddamn wreck half the time and she’s almost worse than me and I just…I dont even know. The kid deserves better than that? She probably deserves alot better than staying up at night waiting and worrying when I’m going to get home and falling asleep on the goddamn floor and–maybe…maybe I should’ve had Roxy or Jane take her instead. Or even Jake. Somewhere where’d she’d-she’d get help for her issues, not a place to let them fester.” The air was heavy as he finished, his shoulders slumped in defeat and his head hung as if it had become too much to stay up on its own, eyes screwed close in a frustrated kind of pain. Dave was a little speechless, he knew Dirk felt a little responsible for Dia and part of that mightve been from himself but…He didnt know.

He shouldve known though. 

“ Dirk…Jesus Dirk why didnt you mention any of this sooner? If you’ve been so worried you could just tell me and I’d help you.” He moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder, pushing up his shades and leaning over to try to look the older man in the eyes. 

“ Dirk cmon dont shut me out now after that damn word vomit of you actually opening up. You are not shutting down on me, hell no. You opened your own floodgates and we’re going to swim through what the fuck you released together and work this out because clearly help is needed right now. If it wasnt you wouldnt have asked me to come back out of nowhere, and we wouldnt be having an emotional brotherly moment in the middle of your shitty kitchen at nine in the goddamn morning with the kid you’re clearly worried about dead asleep on your living room floor. So, lets talk ok?” With another tired sigh Dirk nodded as they kept cooking, neither noticing the thin figure slip away upstairs to shower.

After Dave left things were awkward. The two sat at Dirk’s kinda crappy dining table with a non microwaved meal in front of them both poking at it in silence. By the time they both decided they were done the house apartment felt delicate and tense. But regardless Dia holed up in her room for the rest of the evening to prepare for another fitful night and around ten Dirk pulled on his shoes and headed out. 

Dia checked the clocked a couple hours later, noting tiredly that it was only ten past midnight. So she simply rolled over to face the wall and shut her eyes, trying to shut off her brain. It almost worked too…

Click.

Her eyes snapped open and she lifted her head to look towards the door briefly confused, almost assuming she was hearing things. She glanced at the clock again. 12:13 am. She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up.

“ No way…I heard him leave at ten…and he usually doesnt come back until at least two on thursday…” She listened for a moment to make sure, and sure enough there was the sound of shuffling downstairs, slowly coming up the stairs. When she heard Dirk’s bedroom door open she got up and shuffled over to her own peeking out of her door to see his back. Before she could stop herself she made a noise to announce her presence and Dirk paused, looking back at her. There was a moment where they both stared at each other as she briefly panicked at the fact she started this conversation.

“ y..you’re back pretty early tonight…” She almost visibly cringed at herself as he gave a small shrug.

“ Didnt feel like being out for long tonight…besides, keeps some anxieties down if im not gone too late.” She stood up straighter and looked up at him stunned. He…he came home early…so she wouldnt worry? Her mind flashed to the morning before and something warm filled her chest. She nodded and murmured that she appreciated it and swore she saw a smile on his face before he continued into his room.

“ Hey um…” She saw him pause again and she took a nervous breath. She wasnt used to this, but…

“ I um…im not that picky when it comes to food…but I dont mind spicy foods, as long as its not deathly spicy. I’m also willing to try most things put out for me to eat at least once…so I’ll at least try to eat most meals…” She glanced back up to see him nod, a small smile now clear on his face.

“ Alright kiddo, I’ll keep that in mind. Try to go to bed before sunrise.” She nodded back and slipped back into her room, somehow feeling a little lighter.

The next couple weeks after that were different for them both. At first it was hard to describe, but things were less stiff so to say. They both came out of theyre rooms more for meals together and…just talked. The talks were awkward as hell at first, but the more they did the more she looked forward to meal time, and the less she dreaded eating. Even though she struggled to open up to the older man she could still find things to talk about. At some point she started cooking again, which she hadn’t done since she took care of her little brother, over five months ago. Dia started when she noticed Dirk skipping meals, lost in his work.So…she started making things and leaving them for him with a reminder to eat. And once his portion was gone she ended up eating what was left for herself, the portion being enough to not make her feel too guilty most nights. 

But things were on a better track, Hal pointed out as much one night as Dirk slipped back into the apartment as the clock read 1:00 am. Dirk raised an eyebrow and got a bit of a half smile. “ oh yeah? You really think so huh?” 

‘ Yes I do actually. You havent noticed? She’s opening up to us both more than she has in months.’ Dirk nodded with a hum as he made his way to the stairs, listening to hear if Dia was moving about and noticed it was quiet. Maybe for once she managed to fall asleep. 

‘ You know, you two are alot alike, at least with your issues and and some of your traumas.’ Dirk paused halfway up the stairs and tilted his head as he thought about it, not exactly responding. But Hal continued on.

‘ I think at this point, the best course of action for you both would be for you two to try having a deeper conversation. It would benefit you both greatly to try discussing and sympathizing over your similar issues. At the very least it would help you both open up more, something we both know is very needed in this apartment.’ He…couldnt really argue with that one. 

“ Ya know what? fuck it why not. I’m not going to push her too much but…I’ll give it a shot.” 

And he did. When he saw her at breakfast he motioned for her to listen and took a deep breath through his nose, preparing for the worst. He vividly remembered how she could lash out when she felt cornered or afraid, and that was the last thing he wanted.

So he tried as gently as he could, following some of Hal’s advice and the advice of Rose who he’d talked about this with much earlier in the morning for ideas to approach the subject…delicately. He even vaguely put some of his smaller issues on the table first, made them vulnerable which made Hal rather proud of him for. 

“ Look Dia…I get it ok? I get the not wanting to talk to anyone about it and the need to be strong and unbreakable. But I also know how that can fuck you up even more. It has for me for years…and…I’ve lost trust with close friends because of it. I did things I still dont forgive myself for trying to bottle it up.” She listened and nodded. Then Dia looked down and touched one of her scarred knuckles and took a deep breath. Then she looked up with an expression he hadnt seen before, it was tired and sad and vulnerable. Suddenly she looked like her age, a broken and exhausted 19 year old who’d been suffering on her own for too long, and he watched her shoulders droop as she spoke as if a weight was starting to lift off them.

“ I…I-I have alot wrong with me Dirk…maybe too much to be fixed…so much you may not want to bother with me if you knew everything…I’m…Im beyond screwed up and I cant even eat anymore without trying to loss the nonexistent weight it brings…I…I’ve done too much I dont deserve this I dont…” She trailed off and Dirk reached out and hesitantly, understandingly placed his hand on her wrist, making her look him in the eyes.

“ Why dont we start by just being screwed up together kid? You arent alone in it anymore…and about the eating, we can work on that first and get you started on recovery however you need it. But lets start small and see how we survive it.” She smiled a little and nodded, relaxing.

“ Yeah, ok.” 

A few nights later Dia was tossing and turning again after waking up from another nightmareThis time a light rain drummed on the roof from a small passing storm. She looked at the clock and glared at the two am glaring back at her before sitting up and pulling on her hoodie. Maybe…

She got up and walked over to her door and stepped out, looking at Dirk’s door and expecting him to be out. But what she saw instead was a soft light coming from under the door, signifying he was still home and awake. With a deep breath she walked over and raised her hand to knock, only to pause and stare at the wood. She started doubting her right to interrupt him when their last talk flashed to mind. He had opened up to her a little and she had done the same, they had shared a moment and she felt…closer to him. She didnt feel like a burden as much.

So with more confidence than she had she grabbed the handle and turned it, letting the light wash over her warmly as she gazed at his back, sitting at his desk across the room making something. She only hesitated for a moment before her body relaxed and she smiled a little, taking a step in.

“ H-hey Dirk…I cant sleep…do you mind if I hang in here for awhile?” 

She shut the door behind her when she saw him smile while declaring she can have his bed since he’ll be up awhile longer.

She fell into a peaceful sleep that night, feeling safe and at home.

End

Tadaaaa, this took a long while to write but I hope it was worth the wait! And I hope you guys like it!

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@phantommoonpeople @turing-tested

[youknowmymethods]

Content Creator Interview #12

Tissues at the ready, because, sniff sniff, this is the last post in the current series. And we’re ending with me, @ohaine, putting questions to one of my favourite people in the whole world, @likingthistoomuch, who answers questions about her secret squish, how culture and language influence her writing, and why her eyeball occasionally rolls under the bed.

If you’ve been in the Sherlolly corner of the fandom for any length of time at all you’ll already know that likingthistoomuch is funny, sweet and not afraid to say what she thinks. What you may not know is that she’s one of the kindest, wisest people that you’ll ever meet. She’s a beautiful person, a wonderful friend, a bit crazy, a bit sarcastic, and now, by public vote (well, I voted for it), an honorary Irish cailín dána. As if all of those things weren’t enough she’s a damn fine writer too. Want me to prove it? 

Molly looked surprised but followed his lead. They moved to the silent tune being played in his head, upping their tempo as the notes seemed to flow fast and with certainty until they reached a crescendo and slowly seemed to fall as leaves in autumn, leaving a wonderful silence in their wake.

“There’s no silence when I’m around you. It’s music. And its beautiful.”

The simplest symphony, one of her sixty two stories, is one of my all time favourites, and I was so happy to get the chance over Christmas 2018 to pick her brain about where these beautiful words come from.

OhAine: I’m always impressed by the gentle way you treat your words, and I’ve often wondered is that because English is a second language for you?

Likingthistoomuch: I am always surprised when reviewers say that because I honestly just blurt it all out. There is no deliberate attempt to make the words the way they are. And English, though it may seem like my second language, is in a way my first because my entire education has been in English. (I just may be more fluent in it than the local languages but that’s a discussion between my mum and me that you really don’t want to know.) The only real barriers are when it comes to the British way of putting words. Because we are so exposed to American TV, that’s the language that forms immediately in my mind. But it’s getting better, because nowadays it’s all British TV for me! (GoT is worldwide and based in Westeros so it’s not American ok!)

 OhAine:  Brit-picking you mean? Nothing will throw me out of a Sherlock story faster than reading something that just shouldn’t be there, so how do you get around it?  

 Likingthistoomuch: I (le gasp!!) ask people like you and Emma Lynch but mostly I just bulldoze ahead. (My muse lasts less than the winter here so I need to move it quickly.)

 OhAine: And is it that love of film/TV/stories that inspired you to write in the first place, or are you a life-long writer? What was the very first moment that you thought to yourself; I can do that?

 Likingthistoomuch: I would call myself the Accidental Writer (I can almost hear the play-writes scribbling that title down...royalties people!!!). I wanted to read a story with a certain story line, and the then regular prompt takers were all busy. @writingwife-83 was the one who suggested that I try writing the fic on my own, she said, “Why don’t you just give it a go!” And I did. The result, Moving with time, didn’t seem to be too bad considering. Of course I get the cringe moment when I read it now, but that’s what started the ball rolling!

 OhAine: This seems like a really apt moment to slip in a reader question submitted by @writingwife-83. She asked; How does writing inspiration tend to strike for you? Does it hit you out of the blue or does it come from something more external? 

Likingthistoomuch: It’s literally a hit from out of the blue! It can be a movie or a song or recollection of a scene, literally anything. That is exactly why my post-TFP took so long to finish, the story (Our love has a way about it) was just not getting through!! So I look at admiration when writers take on a prompt and expand it into stories. My mind’s inbox is full of Asks, waiting for the brain to acknowledge and work on it :).

 OhAine: When I looked at your sixty two stories as a body, it occurred to me that there are two types of stories that you excel at; Victorian!lock, and short scenes—

 Likingthistoomuch: Ooh thank you.

 OhAine: No, genuinely, no smoke blowing here LOL. I think you have a real affinity for Victorian Sherlock. So, how do you get into the mind set and what about that era particularly inspires you?

 Likingthistoomuch: The mind-set isn’t much of an imaginative journey. We Indians have a saying, "The English left India but left their bastard behind." This refers to the narrow minded, sexist mind-set that was highly followed during Victorian times, remnants of which we are still fighting to get rid of here. Not blaming it all on the English, we have been pretty inventive with our own original regressive thought process too. So for the social mind-set and fic setting, all I need is to look out the window. 

I love putting Molly and Sherlock in that era because on some front, both of them epitomise "not all heroes wear capes". She is trying to reach for opportunities that are denied to her just because of her gender and he is seen as the almost vulgar, rude and insensitive soul who is ready to judge people on their merits alone...(oh how dare he!!) It’s a personal favourite to put them in an era where they do struggle and fight but eventually it always work towards what they want, and of course, they get it via some unrelenting angst but hey what’s the fun if it’s all bubble gum. (It’s almost my inner romantic peeping out but don’t you dare tell anyone about it, I have a reputation to keep!)

 OhAine: I can kind of relate to that – and this is something I put to @hobbitsdoitbetter too, because she writes Victorian era Sherlolly so brilliantly as well – I often think of Molly in the Victorian works as being like Irish women of the last generation who took their small victories where they found them.

 Likingthistoomuch: True, unfortunately every geography and people has a similar story to tell. Things are changing but this change has yet to reach the grassroots levels.

 OhAine: We can’t talk about your Victorian!lock without mentioning With eyes shut tight, where you did a very interesting thing when you switched to John’s voice in a very ACD way. What inspired that? How did you find John’s voice?

Likingthistoomuch: I actually found John's character (and Martin's fabulous portrayal) in TAB to be very interesting. Here is a man who can see what’s correct, will support it but is also so short sighted that he doesn’t realise that in supporting the women's struggle elsewhere he is ignoring the struggle going on in his own home. So there was the empathy for Molly not getting her due treatment as Sherlock's wife balanced by the outrage at her wanting to follow her own heart. Martin's performance in TAB is my favourite of the special and it was fun to try and bring in his voice, the sarcasm battling the disbelief. I had great fun doing it :)

 OhAine: I have this theory that you have a secret squish on John, am I right?

 Likingthistoomuch: You mean crush? I absolutely adore the boots off Martin Freeman, his performance is exquisite. I know we all look in awe at Ben's work, but for me, performance wise Martin takes the cake.

As for John...you know Sherlock puts on a veil of indifference to hide that he feels so much. I think for John it’s the opposite. He thinks he feels a lot and understands it all, but he too is hiding the inner struggling man. That’s why the TLD exchange between these two, (S: Underneath all we may just be human. J:You too? S: No, you too) is so profound. Just as Sherlock found in John a partner, John did too. It’s just that Sherlock accepts that he needs John, John is too blind to understand that he needs Sherlock too. That is one man who has his emotions so cross wired and tangled, it’s a very interesting character. And the thing is I feel Sherlock understands that and hangs on to John, not looking at it as a weakness. John, if he ever introspects, will find his dependency on Sherlock as a weakness. It’s basically asking Sherlock to do something, which he himself would not apply. 

And Martin adds a different layer each time he plays him.

 OhAine: One of my favourites of yours is a short story (<1,000 words), New paths. There’s a very calm, meditative feeling to the story: could you tell me a bit about your inspiration?

 Likingthistoomuch: So, couple of years back we made a trip to England, and had visited Filey, near Scarborough in Yorkshire. After a long drive from London, we arrived and realised that there was a view of this cliff face from our cottage. And while my city bred, urban self gawked at the lovely site, the cloud thing happened and the hills actually turned pink. In that moment, it went all quiet and I literally felt the tiredness from my long journey seep away. And it’s only nature that can do that magic.

While writing New Paths, I wanted to see things from Molly's perspective. Do I feel she broke down and cried buckets and ate two tubs of ice cream? Maybe, but I don’t think so. I think she just felt tired and also at the same time, like a huge weight was off her back. And sometimes, what you need for your soul to just feel even a little better is a few moments away from humanity. Not necessarily to forget things, but more like to recharge your batteries and get the energy to deal with things in a better way. So I made her experience what I did that evening. I made her experience the sea, the beautiful colours that nature shows and just heal her tired heart a little. God knows she needed it.

 OhAine: Misty silhouettes is a unique story, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen one quite like it before. Can you tell me about how it came to you and what are the challenges of writing Sherlock and Molly through so many lives?

 Likingthistoomuch: Misty came about because of Mirrors, a short one I wrote on my phone, half asleep and trying to get rid of an ear (brain?) worm. Kiki had loved it and encouraged me to expand on it, which I attempted to do. I think I had just recently watched a historic Indian movie and was highly impressed with the battle scene, hence the opening sequence. I thought; why not work through time as well as geography, bringing these two closer and closer, like they showed in the short Sherlock episode before S3, where Anderson comments Sherlock is coming home? So they start in ancient India, and then slowly weave geographically as well as chronologically towards their current destination, London. 

The challenges were to keep the story along the same theme as Mirrors, so trying to find characters, stories and their ending as well as the transition into the next life was some work. In short, I feel I have exhausted my small quota of creative imagination where the story stands right now, on the cusp of the last chapter where Sherlock is now in current time. It is definitely NOT abandoned; I have at least formulated ten stories and discarded them all because after such a long journey, Molly and Sherlock deserve a good reunion. And I trust myself to write it one day. Because that right end WILL come, I am sure of it.

 OhAine: Have you found that end yet?

 Likingthistoomuch: I may have! I have just started on that path, praying I stay on it.

 OhAine: What does your proofreading and editing process look like?

 Likingthistoomuch: Going through the document three times, checking for typos. Posting the fic, finding those three escaped typos and correcting them. Finding typos the more times I read a story. Yes, that’s the process. Elegant, no?

 OhAine: Super elegant, LOL!!! You would rather do it yourself than press a beta into service? Or do you find working with someone else restrictive?

Likingthistoomuch: I think it may just be because I am such an impatient writer. I have loads and loads of ideas but putting them on paper takes a lot out of me. So once it’s there, I can’t wait to get it published and for you guys to see (and maybe get a few reviews too.)

I am learning. I do at times ask for help to oversee the plot and the work and it’s worth waiting.

OhAine: But you work without a beta most of the time… Is that a deliberate choice, or something that’s just evolved?

 Likingthistoomuch:  Actually, that’s just how it evolved. My first impression of a beta was someone who would do a read through and call out my typos and grammatical mistakes. Then it dawned that I could ask about the story line and if / how/ will it work. The advantage of working with someone is that you might get a better way of putting your story forward, get help when you are stuck. Or they’ll help you understand character’s motives and inspirations even more, which was a fantastic new experience for me. On the downside you could end up telling someone else's story.

 OhAine: I think that’s a great point; you can end up telling someone else’s story, and it sort of has me reflecting that I’ve done that when I was very new to writing. Has it ever happened – even in relation to reader input – to you?

 Likingthistoomuch: Actually no. But that’s also because almost 95% of my fics are one-shots. As for inspiring something new, only Kiki's advice at expanding Mirrors was an exception. The rest...? I am a free bird!!

  OhAine: I’ve seen it argued lately that sites like tumblr stifle creativity and can lead your writing in directions you wouldn’t have otherwise taken it. What’s your take on that?

 Likingthistoomuch: Oh good question! The social policing at times can inhibit your writing and introduce undue caution at best or a total change of direction of the story at worse. It’s something that every writer has to take a call on, and finally write a story that he or she wants to tell. Because, at least for me, I know when I have written something good, and maybe not many would like it. But it’s the story I want to tell, and if I am not able to do that, no matter how many accolades I get, there would always be a feeling of dissatisfaction bubbling beneath the surface. I may just not share my work next time, and that would even further piss me off :D So not a good cycle to get into. I would encourage writers to take pride in their creation and own it like a boss. Your words indeed are your baby!

 OhAine: Does that mean that social media has been a stimulator more than a damper of creativity for you?

 Likingthistoomuch: So far I have had a relationship with social media where I have been able to distance myself if there indeed is shit happening. Which, if you have been on tumblr long enough, you know is pretty frequent. I keep to my lane, and I expect you to do the same. So far it has been a stimulator, and the few moments where it could’ve been a dampener, I was able to remind myself that’s it’s all virtual and imaginary and I have a real life outside, and hence was able to ignore the shit.

I have a very simple mantra, you no like, you unfollow or block or ignore. I will survive, indeed thrive, in your absence....if I notice your absence in the first place.

 OhAine: The thing that puts me off social media is the combative purity culture that seems to be so prevalent now.

 Likingthistoomuch: *roll my eyes so hard am still looking for my right eyeball that rolled under the bed, the bugger* All I can say is, real life is tough as nails, Social Media should be a platform to release some steam, not to order or bully people around. Again, instead of telling people what to do, what to post it would be better if the Social Police (aka Staff) got their act together and BLOODY ADDRESSED THE PORN BOTS. (I got 5 new followers yesterday and no prizes for guess what they are.)

Also, as a blogger, it’s not MY responsibility to ensure that YOUR children and young people see clean content. There are tags and blocks meant for filtering NSFW stuff. I came to your free site because I thought I could post/follow the stuff I want. And people will always find a way to find 'blocked' content. It’s called Google.

 OhAine: And a few quick fire questions to wrap it up. Starting with: how do you find your titles? 

 Likingthistoomuch: Like literally throwing a net out there and hoping the words caught make sense. Sometimes it’s just *snap* and you have your title, sometimes it takes time. I always hope the story inspires the heading but that rarely happens. Except for my post TFP, Our love has a way about it. That was purely the after effect of finishing chapter 1 that I had been trying for months.

 OhAine: How do you gauge the success of a story? What’s the metric you live by?

Likingthistoomuch: Reviews! Comments! God, I love them. But honestly, sometimes it’s more about being happy myself and putting an honest effort on the paper. I feel the best when I know the job I have done is a good, genuine one, like for Our love has a way about it.  It’s a lovely feeling and very few things can replace that knowledge of a job well done.

OhAine: Do you find writing is an outlet for real life pressure?

 Likingthistoomuch: Not really. How can I say this, it adds a bit of colour? Like people who art! Writing makes me feel good, that I can do things that may not have a tangible benefit for anyone but it is a big achievement for me. And since not many know that I write, it’s a very personal feeling, a fight to the finish with myself. 

 I had a great time addressing all these questions, Áine. I am surprised that the answers aren’t one worded, as I half expected them to be. Caught me in a chatty moment I should say :) This has been a wonderful exercise, and dare I say, a wonderful initiative. Kudos to you for coming up with this. 

OhAine: Aww, thanks Gee, you’re such a sweetie :) It’s been great fun, but I’ll be glad to get Friday afternoons back to normal!!

So guys, that’s it for now. I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who read, followed, re-blogged, liked, left comments, and supported this project, none of which would have been possible without the oh-so many lovely writers and interviewers who gave up their their time to participate, and who so kindly shared their fandom and writing experiences. Thank you all so, so much ♥

[pokeshippingflashfic]

So the show makes Misty’s crush on Ash very clear but not necessarily the other way around. I was wondering if you could do something about Ash first noticing his crush on Misty and how he might react to it? Thank you!

(I’m not sure I’m fulfilling this request 100% since I don’t necessarily have a firm place in canon where I believe Ash notices his crush on Misty but I did my best.)

The mad sprint to the PokeCenter leaves your entire body aching viciously in response.

Pikachu is in intensive care. Nurse Joy and her assistant Chansey have abandoned you in the lobby. You while away a few minutes conversing with Professor Oak and your mom, praying for a substantial distraction from your bruised ego after your starter Pokemon nearly died to rescue you a few hours previous.

And then a new storm surges in, an infuriated redhead you barely remember from mid-afternoon, stomping towards you with a crispy relic perched over her shoulders. 

Huh, that thing actually reminds you of…

She shrieks at you for so completely destroying her bike, falls over but apparently hates your guts so much that she refuses your attempt to help her back to her feet. And the panic wells up in response within you because you’ve already almost lost your Pokemon partner, you’ve already almost lost all confidence in your prowess as a trainer, in your ability to fulfill your dream, and now this girl is tearing you down further. 

As if you could actually fall through a hole in the ground and feel lower than you already do…

But a light appears at the end of the dark expansive tunnel when you find the courage to explain your current situation and she shows the oddest thing… What was it? Compassion?

How unexpected.

The next few days are naturally tumultuous. She takes it upon herself to follow you around, complaining that you owe her (and maybe you do but the whole thing with her bike was an accident, it’s not like you purposely targeted her), leading your Pikachu to betray you for her affection, throwing temper tantrums and storming away from you when things are too much or too little for her…

… And then, in the same day, the same afternoon, she sprints frantically back and grabs your hand, doing her best to carry you away from a perceived threat.

How… confusing?

She’s sharp. Both her brain and her words cut quick and deep in ways you’ve never been able to master. She’s annoying, generally finding ways to mock you for abrasive decisions you make, for the way you eat, for how you win your gym battles.

But she’s also… soft? Is that the word? She makes friends with all sorts of Pokemon while traveling with you, like those at the village where you met Bulbasaur, and she even does what she can to support Butterfree find a mate (a bug Pokemon, which she claims to hate). And… what about the times when she shows you similar tenderness?

The first time you can remember (outside of Viridian City’s PokeCenter) is when you’re standing on the deck of the St. Anne and she walks up to check on you after you’ve traded one of your Pokemon friends away, like she knows exactly what you’re struggling with.

The next time you think of is when your spirit is playing around with the ghost Pokemon of Lavender Tower and you see stars over the emotion Misty wears on her sleeves (despite her tank top not having them). Since when did she care about you at all? Since when did you care that she cared?

In truth, it’s her fear over your extended absence that reminds you to return to your body later that night… Not that you’ll ever tell her that. And it’s her frightened pleas that wake you, her relieved smile and flushed cheeks and the streaks from a few stray tears that greet you when you return, telling you that you made the right choice.

Jammed somewhere in the middle of these memories is the distinctly feminine impression drilled into you from a festival dance you two shared, a rare moment of physical contact as she grabbed your hand again and you were stupefied by her hair and smile and pink kimono.

How weird. 

To think that you have a hundred memories of Misty at the front of your mind at any given minute, just as much as it is reassuring.

Misty screaming, Misty crying, Misty smiling, Misty holding your hand, Misty raising an eyebrow and a complaint, Misty staring at the night sky, Misty talking about her hopes and dreams, Misty following you when you fully expected to be left alone (and yet also somehow expected her to be the one to find you), Misty running toward or from you, eating beside you, feeding her Pokemon, petting your Pokemon, leaping into the fray, ridiculing you for regularly displaying the same behavior.

Misty. Misty. Misty.

How…. mystifying that she winds herself so constantly, consistently, around inside your head. How sudden that it’s her that possesses you when you’re not actively engaged in other activities and your brain is looking for something to occupy it. 

How puzzling, unrelenting, unsurprising.

It is. Or rather, it isn’t. Surprising, that is.

There’s something there, you think as a bow strings too tightly round your heart and you tell her you’ve brought her bike, that it’s time for her to go. 

There’s something missing, you know as the wire stretches taught enough to snap, and your eyes burn when you assume she’s too far away already to hear the admission cascading from your lips without restraint.

There’s something special to her, you realize too late, too naive to hammer out the specifics, in too much a hurry to start your next adventure so that you’re not stuck hyper-lamenting on the one you’ve just finished.

There’s something special written in the miles between you and it’s not going anywhere.

[furederiko]

"GOOD LUCK!!!" The 32nd episode of Kyuranger sends off one of its key member to its final journey...

NOTE: Several unrelated things before I moved on to the recap-view. I couldn't rewatched this episode again (with subtitle) sooner due to unexpected situations at home. Hence why this post takes a bit longer to publish. And one more thing, I'll be off the grid throughout next week to deal with personal affairs, so recap-view for episode 33 will also be delayed until after October 15th, 2017. I'll probably batch that one with episode 34 in the 3rd week of October.

- Okay, let's start. New broadcast time!!! 09.30 JST means I can now wake up later than usual (not that I could do that casually, due to my 'trained' biological clock... -_-). This new time slot however, means more 'noise' issues to the streaming. Both figuratively and literally, as in internet traffic problem that caused delays, and pesky annoyingly LOUD morning aerobic held by the neighbourhood community almost every Sunday. On the bright side, this reschedule means the absence of that usual time stamp/clock! Although it does feel odd (like something's missing or somehow LOL) and took me a while to get used to, this clean footage definitely looks so much better than before because of it. - The show itself celebrates its new schedule with a neat special intro-narration that occurs mid-fight. Opening sequence remains the same though, here I thought it would get revamped like "Kyoryuger". It also debuts a Holy Moly flashy fan-service grin-inducing "Kyulette Chance!" by the duo of Tsurugi who firmly believes he should be the new Commander, and Stinger who tags along for unknown reason. Gotta love Kotarou's reaction to these two, particularly the "You're making us Earthling looks bad" jab to the former... LOL. Not unlike the cool intro narration, I'm not sure if the pair will continue to do this in the next episode (since Xiao already shows up later in the closing scene). Nevertheless, this is a hillarious gem indeed. - Don Armage looks a bit desperate, that he's offering Vice-Shogun promotion for Malistrates who can take down the Kyurangers. This is where Kukuruga's subordinate Dogyun (whose design reminds me of Decepticon Shockwave) steps in. Apparently, the Jark Matter scientist has the ability to control machines, and wants to utilize this skill to activate the numerous Consumarz on Earth. Remember, those machines were all shutdown by Tsurugi when he was awaken from his cold-sleep. - On the protagonist side, Naga confirms that Don Armage is situated in the Crux System. Somewhere around there, at least (Naga with emotions means he can openly cast jokes now LOL). Unfortunately, the team is facing a problem: ORION's condition doesn't allow them to do that. Not only the spaceship is damaged, but it is also beyond repair. Aaaaw... T_T. - Raptor, who is troubled due to her deep connection with ORION, wants to use Dogyun's ability to help repair ORION. Unfortunately, the Malistrate's skill is nothing but a fraud. Tsurugi explains that the appliances only become active due to a liquid organism matrix that triggers their electric circuits. So Dogyun doesn't play a direct role on them. - Things get more troubling, as Tsurugi's premature leadership is already put into question. Raptor feels that ORION is one of their important comrade, while he thinks that's just her usual delusions. This provokes Raptor's emotions, who runs away thinking it's useless to fight. A good example to why an inconsiderate guy like Tsurugi shouldn't be assigned as the new Commander *sigh*. - Spada has always been linked to Raptor (classic Yellow-Pink trope if you will), so it comes off as natural that he would stand up and support her. Aside from confirming that they are the early Rebellion members (possibly after Xiao and Stinger, and before Hammy and Champ joined the group), Spada admits that ORION might've been the miraculous spaceship that Raptor suggests. I don't know about you, but this scene makes me curious to see more flashback to the Rebellion's foundation! - Knowing a brief history that leads towards Raptor's attachment to ORION, Lucky decides to look for her while the away team deals with Dogyun who has rigged another set of Consumarz to level the area. Raptor is about to give up, troubled by the fact that she won't be able to save a teammate. Lucky proves that he's a better candidate to be a Commander, by encouraging Raptor to stand up and do something better for ORION's sake: fight on, to save the universe! - It's really nice seeing Aquila Pink being so fierce and feisty in battle. Not only she (with Leo Red's help) saves the day by using Telescopium Kyu Globe to remove the slimes from the reactivated Consumarz, but her action and strong feeling totally reaches out to ORION. Dogyun combines 10 regular Consumarz into a 'Super Big' Consumarz that's set to collide with Earth, and Kyutamajin is unable to stop it. So who's coming to the rescue? It's none other than... ORION. - The spaceship sentiently lights up its last remaining power, transports Spada, Balance, and Kotarou (the three stayed behind inside the ship) into Kyutamajin for safety, and rams the Giant Consumarz away from its destination. Which also means, ORION is sacrificing himself to save the Kyurangers and Earth. And to top it all, in its very last seconds, the ship sends one last transmission to the team, and most likely to Raptor in person... "GOOD LUCK". Aaaaawww... the FEELS. Dang you Kyuranger, even your ship is giving me misty eyes. Fun fact: Just like what happened to Orion or various other elements of the series, this is another strong nod to "One Piece". In this case, ORION serves as the Going Merry 'situation' for the Kyurangers. - In the end, the other Kyurangers agrees with Raptor, acknowledging that the spaceship is indeed the unofficial 13th member of the team. They pay tribute to ORION as it joins the stars in the sky, while Xiao can be seen overseeing a behemoth of battleship that would inherit its heroic legacy (the official CM for one has already been aired! LOL). Farewell ORION, thanks for taking us through an amazing rollercoaster ride throughout 32 episodes. You shall not be forgotten!

Overall: Personally, I think this was a good episode. Wasn't at the heights of the previous ones, but an overall good one nonetheless. It put Raptor283 in the spotlight, progressed her personal character journey that have already begun since episode 4, but at the same time, affecting the whole team in a major way. Of course, not every audience would take this kindly, nor in a positive way. The barrage of long and pointless heated complaints for this episode on RangerBoard, firmly reminded me why I walked away from that forum (glad I never rejoined and served only as passive spectator until now... totally forgot my password anyway LOL). This wouldn't please those who kept on arguing about her lack of focus episode and exposure. Completely ignoring the fact that they have ironically been downplaying her crucial importance to the show (seriously, Kyuranger would be nothing without Raptor's presence, eventhough she largely operates in the background), under the disguise of 'her defense'. Some people just could never be satisfied with anything! If you ask me, the fact that this episode was able to slip in a moving moment as a climax, and made us relate to the struggle of an android (who is portrayed by suit + voice actor), is an amazing achievement on its own. Do I want to see more development and focus story for Raptor? Yes. Will we get any? Probably not, because the approach to treat female characters as secondary at best is a common thing in Super Sentai franchise. Then again, Kyuranger has surprised us plenty of times before, so let's hold our horses and don't jump the gun just yet... Next week: Eris! Orion! And the Kyurangers' search for a place called home... PS: Just restating what I've said above. I'll see you again with the next recap-view after October 15th! Till then, stay safe, take care, and see you soon...

Episode 32 Score: 8 out of 10

Visit THIS LINK to view a continuously updated listing of the Kyutama / Kyu Globes. Last Updated: October 1st, 2017 - Version 3.01. (WARNING: It might contain spoilers for future episodes)

All images are screencaptured from the series, provided by the FanSubber Over-Time. "Uchu Sentai Kyuranger" is produced by TOEI, and airs every Sunday on TV-Asahi. Credits and copyrights belong to their respective owners.

[mumsles-blog]

Seven Sisters, blisters on blisters and a misty dawn…

Tuesday 29th August and I’m currently sitting with my feet up nursing some very sore blisters after my most recent 100km walk along the South Coast. Two days later and I can barely shuffle from room to room, what a difference a day or two makes. I’m happy though that I completed this one in just under 23 hours, my fastest time. Thames Path took me 19 hours but that is all flat ground, a very different walk to these hilly ones.

Taping and padding my feet is a priority and I had covered heels, toes and balls of my feet but I hadn’t banked on the massive amount of rough flint paths we would be covering and it’s really tough on your feet. Consequently I’ve ended up with my worst blisters yet and boy do they hurt. It is amazing though how the power of adrenaline, with the help of Nurofen,  gets you through pain, I must have walked over 20km with my feet on fire but I was so determined to get to the end that I just kept going, putting one sore foot in front of the other.

I wonder if this has any correlation to the inner strength that comes to the fore when people are dealing with cancer and other awful diseases. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to make out what I do is anything like that but it does seem like the body and the mind can cope with far more than we sometimes realise and I have been astounded how sufferers of cancer and other dreadful illnesses can rally round and often be the strongest person dealing with it all. To a lesser degree you see people on these challenges who are battling along with all sorts of physical pain and often mental anguish too but a huge majority of them still cover massive distances, another testament to human resilience.

So back to the title and the Seven Sisters…for anyone not aware, these are a series of cliffs between Eastbourne and Seaford. From the beach they appear to be gently undulating hills but trust me when you are walking over them they are anything but gentle, each one is a steep ascent followed by an equally steep slope down. What’s more, I’m sure there are more than seven of them, it felt more like twelve!

But before we even got to these though we had set out from Eastbourne along the seafront, “we” being myself, Alex, the daughter of my best friend Pat who is a large part of my motivation for these walks, and a lady called Stella who we had met up with at the start and who was walking alone. From there we were almost immediately heading up the first hill towards the sadly, infamous Beachy Head. It should just be another clifftop with a stunning view but unfortunately it is where many people have chosen to end their lives and consequently there is an eerie feeling especially where the small wooden crosses and flowers have been placed.  Many of the walkers are raising funds for suicide related charities and I sincerely hope they all manage to get their targets and beyond to save too many more of these being put here.

Coming down from here we reach the first rest stop at Birling Gap. Here the sea is fighting back against the land and taking huge bites out of the cliffs, spitting out chalk and even houses and gardens onto the beach below. Apparently the erosion averages around 1 metre a year, I can certainly remember taking my girls there back in the 90’s when you parked your car near the cliffs and walked back to the café. Today the café is at the cliff edge and the car park level with it and what was a row of seven or eight terraced coastguard cottages are now down to just two. Thankfully the rest stop marquee was a way back from the cliffs so no worries there!

After a quick top up of water and use of the facilities…we called it “water in and water out”, we were off over the aforementioned Seven Sisters and then on to the Cuckmere river, a welcome long walk along flat paths.

Initially we were all pretty evenly matched for pace but I found that all my hill training really paid off again as I was managing to stride up the hills fairly easily. They made me out of breath but the legs were good, no burning calves or tight thigh muscles which I was really pleased about. Alex and Stella found them a bit tougher though, not helped by them having considerably shorter legs than me to be fair. By the time I had used my new found sidestepping down the last hill I could no longer see them behind me so I messaged Alex to say I would carry on and wait at the next stop.

Following the Cuckmere meanders as they are known it was nice to be alongside the river but very hot and absolutely no shade for several miles. As one side of my face and arm got warmer and warmer I did contemplate walking backwards to cook the other side but decided that would no doubt only lead to a spectacular fall. Anyway, I managed to save that until I was almost at the stop when somehow I tripped over in a gateway and ended up on my hands and knees in some mud. Dry as a bone in most places but I managed to find a small stodgy patch to fall in. Thankfully I could clean up shortly after while I waited for the others to join me and pretend it never happened.

Soon we were all off together on the next sector and back up more hills to Firle Beacon, one of the higher points on the South Downs. From here you can see across to Lewes, the County town and another hill, Mount Caburn,  which was surrounded by paragliders, a popular spot for the sport. After a lovely trek across the downs we could see the Amex stadium which meant Brighton and halfway was coming closer. A mini stop at Woodingdean was a chance to patch up Alex’s blistered feet which were quickly becoming more plasters than skin and turning out to be very tough to walk on.  Stella and I were still ok and keeping up our pace which Alex said she couldn’t manage so we ended up heading into Brighton separately.

Somehow we missed the sign for the side street to the seafront which wasn’t a problem as we headed down the next parallel one. It did mean however that we missed the 50km marker which is always a good psychological boost, silly women! Brighton alternated between very quiet residential streets and a real buzz of nightlife on the seafront, together with the lights on the pier, promenade and the stunning new i360 observation tower which was slowly rising up above the seafront like a giant doughnut on a stick.

Into the neighbouring town of Hove and the much anticipated halfway point, although actually at 55km but who cares, it was a chance to remove the boots for a while and have dinner. This was probably an absolute highlight for Stella as she was tucking away the snacks and food at every rest stop. It became a joke that she made a beeline for the food each time leaving others in her wake and restocking her backpack with snacks. She’s right though as you do need to keep fuelling up so you have enough energy to keep going, especially through the night.

Sadly Alex arrived here in a very desolate state having endured extremely painful feet and a panic attack and she knew she could not continue any further particularly as it was toughest bit coming up. We got her sorted with some food and spoke to the organisers to make sure she would be helped to get home, fortunately she lives in Hove so not too far to go to the comforts of her flat. For Stella and me though  it was boots back on, the glamorous head torches out and joining a group to leave on the second half.

Now we came to a very interesting part of the route… back onto the downs and Devils Dyke, a deep valley which is a popular beauty spot. It’s also popular with a particular group of people who like to gather in a car park there for dogging sessions. Anyone who doesn’t know what that means can Google it, I’m not explaining it here!  Suffice it to say that I’m not sure who decided it was a good idea to send us right through the middle of this particular car park but that’s exactly where we went and I think it probably added enormously to the participant’s pleasure to have several hundred potential voyeurs striding past, in our case quite quickly. ��As Stella commented as we got to the other side, we weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or a little offended that we didn’t get propositioned. Anyway it seemed fitting that the very next point on the downs route was Fulking Hill….my thoughts exactly!!!

After all that excitement the next couple of stops were fairly uneventful apart from being two of the steepest and highest climbs and the start of the unrelenting flint and chalk paths. They are awful to walk on, hard and unforgiving and great knuckles of flint sticking up all over the place. Absolutely perfect for stubbing toes, rolling ankles and generally making your feet hurt, hence the hideous blisters.  A lot of the time you can’t even walk on the verges as they are sloping and at night with the dew on them the grass was pretty slippery.

The first night stop was north of Shoreham where my friend Pat lived and the second was near the A24, directly south of my home. As always the night stops are a much quieter affair, a lot less people as walkers become more spread out and several people withdraw at each stage. Everyone is drained from the concentration of walking with a limited field of vision as well as obviously being tired from lack of sleep. It’s important to eat and drink still though and keep those reserves topped up…I didn’t need to remind Stella, she managed to find something to eat ok! Black coffee, as ever, is my friend here.

Once again though I hit my wall at 75 to 80km, my nemesis, it never fails to be the harshest part for me, the bit where I do actually wonder why I’m putting myself through it and I retreat inside my own head, full of thoughts of mum and Pat and I keep telling myself it’s nearly done. I even told myself I would never do another challenge…hmmm, I have said that before! The last stop however, was in a stunning location and that helped lift my spirits again. Heading down the last hill to the River Arun at dawn it was all shrouded in a low mist, absolutely beautiful and very atmospheric. Crossing the river on a footbridge with the mist swirling around our feet and on the river below us was one of the sights I won’t forget.

We hadn’t intended to stop here other than the water in and water out bit but we both felt so exhausted from the hard paths that we did take a bit more time. It was sad to see a couple of people having to withdraw at this stage with injuries. I cannot imagine having to give up when you only have 8 km to go, they looked gutted, poor guys.  Once we left here I was relieved to find that we were walking through woods on fairly flat dry mud paths. Unusually this was the only woods we walked through on the whole route. It wasn’t quite so straight forward though as there were loads of large tree roots to negotiate, not easy on tired drunk legs that want to go in a different direction to the rest of your body. You end up looking like you are doing some sort of demented Irish jig trying to negotiate them!

On one small downhill section I felt two blisters burst which is far more painful than if they are manually popped. At least I thought I would get a bit of relief once the initial pain subsided but it wasn’t to be. I discovered later that I had secondary deep blisters under the top ones…I don’t recommend them, they’re not pleasant, every step of the last few kilometres hurt. Another short stretch along the river though and we were soon passing the majestic Arundel castle and heading into the football grounds where the finish was.

Despite our tiredness and extremely sore feet, Stella and I held hands and managed a short and painful jog across the finish line at 2 minutes to 8am Sunday 27th August, 22 hours and 59 minutes after we had set off from Eastbourne.

Prosecco in hand, medals round our necks and with congratulations all round we posed for the obligatory finishers photos and then collapsed into chairs for the recuperation to start. Mark and Amy came down to meet me with Brodie and after a brief chat it was time to give another new walking friend a hug and head home…leaving Stella to wait for her next train home. She didn’t waste her waiting time though, I left her tucking into breakfast, bless her!

So now I’m done for another year, it’s been different again, not all in a good way as I don’t much like this foot pain but it will soon heal and I’ll be back out walking the hills round here with my woof. Aside from that though, it was a stunning walk and through a lot of my home county so it was nice to be reunited with it for a while and I was lucky again with walking buddies, thanks ladies. Stella was great through the night and we managed to laugh a fair bit as well as keep each other’s spirits up.

South Coast was definitely challenging but I did it and most importantly the fundraising has gone up a bit more… Macmillan have now received over £5300 and the overall total for all charities is £6800…I’m chuffed with that. Thanks again to everyone for the donations and also for the ever present support, it really does help me get through it.

[softgaypunk]

Crayola Crayon Color Asks

(I’m just gonna fill it out, I tag whoever wants to do it)

Macaroni and Cheese: What makes you think of your childhood?

anything painful :) and also horses bc those were a fixation of mine

Spring Green: How do you relax when you’re stressed?

smoking, crying, painting, texting my buds, drinking tea

Asparagus: What’s an unpopular opinion you have?

i don’t like sharon needles? at all? idk if thats unpopular but. oh and I don’t like ketchup or other condiments

Bittersweet: Has someone you loved ever hurt you?

almost everyone i’ve ever loved has hurt me :)

Eggplant: Explain your url and avatar.

i combined two nicknames- little space prince (from my ex) and peach (from my friends),, and my profile picture represents a lot about me- i like space and love and balance and contrast

Outer Space: Do you ever feel like you’re an outcast from others?

constantly

Cotton Candy: What is your favorite dessert?

i like rita’s ice- the mint chocolate chip ice is my favorite

Freckle: Do you have any marks on your skin? How do you feel about them?

i have a bajillion freckles and i love them! i also have lots of stretchmarks and theyre cute! i have a bunch of scars but theyre interesting and remind me to keep going!

Shocking Pink: Is there a trait that you have that others don’t expect from you?

um. i dont think so. ppl are surprised that i have synesthesia?

Robin’s Egg Blue: If you were an animal, which one do you think would you be?

probably a bee bc i try my best and humanity kills me 

Granny Smith Apple: What’s something everyone else likes that you don’t?

ketchup, flavored chips, mayo, ice cream, cake, 13 reasons why (dont even get me started on how much i hate that show)

Dandelion: What’s a pet peeve of yours?

ppl that use terms that aren’t ok. white ppl that use the n word, neurotypicals who use the word ‘psycho’ or ‘bipolar’ when referring to not actually bipolar people, cishet ppl that use the word f*g or d*ke.

Atomic Tangerine: What gets you motivated to do a difficult task?

crying and/or telling myself that it’s necessary (i also make lists)

Wisteria: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

i think i try really hard and thats kinda hardcore

Candy Apple: How do you think others view you?

not good lmaoo,, , like a whiny lil baby 

Plum: Are you insecure about anything?

most things :-)

Sky Blue: Where do you feel the most at home?

with my friends

Tickle Me Pink: How do you try to cheer others up when they’re sad?

“ayo i empathize with you. i’m not gonna tell you it gets better, but i will tell you that i’ll be here with you to be there for you however you need me to be.” and i also make people food

Wild Strawberry: Do you care what others think about you?

yes

Glossy Grape: Recommend something to your followers.

get a plant, theyre pretty cool. also wait 24 hours before doing something impulsive. 

World Wide Web Yellow: What was the last thing you looked up?

“turtles eating strawberries video”

Shadow Blue: Do you have a darker side to you that most people are unaware of?

it’s sad and most people that im friends with know about it

Electric Lime: What genre of music do you listen to?

alternative? sometimes. rap? sometimes. the heathers soundtrack? usually.

Night Owl: Describe a very interesting dream that you had.

i don’t have interesting dreams

Cornflower: What do you think about the most?

the crushing reality of being alive. i also think a lot about race and institutional oppression and how i can be an ally and advocate without talking for people 

Grasshopper Green: Describe the area where you live.

rainy, green, university

Misty Moss: Is there anything you regret?

most of the things i regret are not actually my fault

Tiny Toad Brown: Do you find beauty in something that people consider to be ugly or undesirable?

ya! as i said earlier i rly love stretchmarks. i love things that a lot of ppl genuinely dont? 

Sunny Side Up: Do you like waking up in the mornings, or would you rather sleep in?

sleep in wtf

Kitten Gray: Do you have any pets? If so, describe them.

3 dogs (all big and loud and cuddly), 3 cats (all soft and sassy), and a lot of fish (wet)

Rose Dust: Describe your aesthetic in five words or less.

sad, sweatpants, plant, queer, little

Timberwolf: Do you give second chances when somebody has wronged you?

yea and its not healthy

Freshly Squeezed: What excites you?

good grades? accomplishments? attention?

Firefly Red: What gives you purpose?

“be the person you needed when you were younger”

Tiny Teapot Tan: Do you consider yourself to be attractive/cute?

not right now but im working on it

Rain Drop Blue: Describe the weather outside.

rainy, dank, grey

Sweet Pea Green: Do you have/want children?

nope. 

Pussywillow: Do you like being around others, or do you like being alone?

i like being with others when i like the other ppl. 

Jack ‘O’ Lantern Orange: What’s your biggest fear and why?

abandonment and bunnies (unrelated but both terrifying)

Baby Bunny Pink: Do you look young for your age, or do you look older than you are?

young for my age, i have a total baby face

Mystic Maroon: What confuses you, and why?

ppl that are one day REALLY NICE and then rly mean

Cosmic Cobalt: What’s your zodiac sign, and do you think it’s accurate?

sagittarius, and heck yes

Petal Pink: Describe your fashion sense as well as what you’re wearing right now.

i want to dress in flannels and jeans and beanies and cool gauges. rn im in an old shirt and a pair of boxers

Mountain Meadow: Do you like taking care of others, or do you prefer being care of?

both? i find meaning in taking care of others, but personally i like to be taken care of

Fuzzy Duckling Yellow: Is there something from childhood that you haven’t outgrown?

mental illness! also i wear the same size shoe that i did in 8th grade

Brussel Sproutlet: Do you have any unhealthy habits?

splitting

Razzle Dazzle Rose: Describe an ideal date.

they’re nice and we go see art or eat breakfast foods

Periwinkle: What’s something ordinary that has personal meaning to you?

its a lil rhino trinket thats pretty ordinary but blackheart gave it to me when he visited

Mauvelous: Do you think you deserve a better life than you have now?

fuck i really do

Blueberry Blue: Do you get sad easily?

fuck, i really do

Purple Mountains Majesty: How does someone earn your respect?

don’t be mean to wait staff, don’t say problematic shit, and use my pronouns.