#I dunno what the hell I'm doing

[ankhmutes]

WIP Wednesday: Sons of Anarchy

I saw somehwere it was WIP wednesday so here's a little piece from something I am working on for Sons of Anarchy, the title is yet to be determined and the length is I don't fucking know how long, just gonna keep going until I find a sweet spot to stop at and wrap it up in a pretty bow. <3

“Chibs, they want her.” the prospect said, coming up to the doorway. Chibs nodded and leaned back to look at you. “You’re up, Daisy.”

“If the shorts fit.” you say as you change your posture, taking a moment to channel your inner Daisy Duke. You smiled tightly at Chibs and nodded to show your understanding, that Amanda would be your responsibility. You half-saluted, and walked out of the office, turning on all of the sex appeal you could, sliding into your Irish accent as you spoke for the camera.  You could see Amanda with the crow eaters, her blue eyes shooting daggers of envy at you for being in an office with a Son. Even worse, he was not even a prospect! He was a full-fledged member.  You could see the jealousy rolling off her in waves.

You licked your lips as you kept your eyes on Chibs and his friend, their presence keeping you nice and relaxed. You pretended they were there for you, for the show, and it helped keep you going. You found yourself smirking saucily at the ice-blue eyes of Chibs’s friend, and putting on your best orgasmic performance. It got tiring having to repeat it for the camera, to re-do some scenes because of the lighting, but you didn’t think it was half-bad, especially if it could get Chibs and his friend all hot and bothered. The sons didn’t usually stay around, but you felt a slight smug glee at the fact that the two specific Sons had decided to stay behind just for your "Daisy Duke" performance. 

It was finally done, and you were able to leave the set. You moved out of the way before Amanda could intercept you, hurrying to get cleaned up the best you could. You felt sticky and gross, but you did like that sense of accomplishment you got when you walked by and saw Chibs’s eyes were a full-blown brown, full of heat. 

“Where do they find these girls, Tiggy?” you could hear Chibs grumble to his friend. Tiggy, you murmured to yourself. Of course. The one that Amanda had been shitting on. You smiled and hurried up with your cleaning, sliding on clean underwear and clothes, wishing you had decided to wear something cute and sexy instead of your well worn jeans, and faded Jack Daniels T-shirt. At least the T-shirt was very low cut and showed off your boobs decently. You at least had that to flaunt. 

“They offered me free candy from their windowless van.” you yelled out to the boys.

[putuponpercy]

clowning around instead of working

[tunastime]

A Minute in the Morning

so I started playing pokemon legends arceus. crumples to the ground. (2762 words)

In a hazy, rusty morning light, Ingo wakes up.

It’s a slow start—like his office computer, taking a whole ten minutes to finish booting, enough to stir sugar into his morning coffee and dissect his breakfast sandwich into parts. It feels like it takes just about that much time for Ingo to become aware of where he’s lying, which is in bed. Which is not where he fell asleep to begin with, which means that someone lifted him to bed and tucked him in. Which was rather sweet. Because he’s burrowed into the covers like a happy drilbur, keeping the cold from his fingers and toes and nose. He finally blinks his eyes open, and it’s sunrise that fills his room. Not his room. Scratch that. Emmet’s room. No wonder the blankets are so much lighter than he remembers them being. Nevertheless. Happy drilbur. He weasels a little more into the pillow. From either side of him, something moves. It’s slight, if there, but as he cranes his neck, slow and careful, he can see a dark head of hair on one side, and silver-white on the other. 

Ingo’s heart swells a fraction too big and too warm for his chest as he sighs out.

Elesa and Emmet haven’t woken up yet, which is a plus. If he were to move too much and move them he might lose the warmth from either side. Elesa’s shoulder rests against the crest of his back, and Emmet’s holding onto his elbow with one hand. The grip is loose at best, but the warmth, both from shoulder to spine and hand to elbow, seeps through him.

It’s blurry. Just everything. It kind of mushes together in his brain, like jam. Or maybe jelly. It doesn’t really matter. If he thinks too hard, his stomach starts to twist in knots, and he’d rather not feel sick while he’s trying to enjoy his morning. He remembers falling asleep while the television played the night prior—nighttime skits and commercials he filtered out until Emmet’s shoulder became the comfiest thing. He supposes that sometime between that point, and the point which he’s just woken up, Elesa came in, and at some other point, he was carted off to bed. It’s nice, though. The blankets make just enough weight over him to soothe ache and anxiety, and it’s warm, and he’s mostly thinking about how nice a cup of coffee sounds right now. Maybe a latte. Something warm. He shuts his eyes again.

The light is surprisingly yellower when he wakes up again. There’s still a warm weight on both sides of him, but it feels different than before. It stretches over him, too, more than just the weighted blanket that’s been added on top of him. He peeks an eye open to find Eelektross slumped over him, his large head curled near Ingo’s shoulder and his similarly large eyes shut as he snores. Ingo snorts, trying to shift to his back with the weight over him, without waking Eelektross. He does after a moment, settling once again, only for Eelektross to huff and fix one, tired eye on his face. Ingo smiles, just a little.

Wriggling a hand free, he pats Eelektross’ forehead, a path well pet and well loved.

“Good morning, you gigantic eel.”

Eelektross trills, nuzzling into Ingo’s hand.

“Mm, yes,” Ingo says. “I’m sure that definitely did not alert Emmet that I am awake, meaning I can’t fake any more sleep. Thank you Eelektross.”

The eel gives a happy sniff.

Ingo snorts.

Typical.

The door cracks open a moment later, the wide eyes of his brother peeking through. He raises his eyebrows, looking over Ingo and Eelektross still in bed. It comes with a little head tilt, something Ingo knows is indicative of an Emmet with a question.

“Sleep well?” he asks. Ingo nods.

“I think so,” he says. “I didn’t realize I’d be carried to bed when I fell asleep.”

“Ah!” Emmet says, eyebrows raising. “I made sure you stayed asleep when we carried you in. You’re a very deep sleeper when you want to be.”

It’s getting better, the gaps in his memory. It’s not enough to trust himself to start his duties as a Subway Boss again, but it's enough to have a few doctor’s appointments and to speak with police and his boss and their coworkers. He’s remembered their pokemon, which is why Eelektross didn’t startle him. And he’s remembered enough for him to fall asleep on Emmet’s shoulder with no care in the world. Enough for life to begin to settle from the chaos. Today is Tuesday, which means Emmet has the day off, and Ingo can tell, even as he reaches to wipe sleep from his eyes, that Emmet is still in his pajamas. He opens the door a little wider, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Ah,” Ingo echoes. “Was it Elesa’s idea to sleep in your room rather than my own?”

“It was,” Emmet concedes, smiling. “But I am Emmet, and I make a very good pillow.”

“You are Emmet and you are a very clingy sleeper,” Ingo says, letting his eyes shut again. Emmet makes a startled noise.

“Go-Go, don’t fall asleep again,” he yaps. “Your breakfast will get cold.”

Slowly, Ingo opens one eye, looking at his brother in the doorway. Eelektross snuffs into his shoulder, wriggling off of him. He grunts as the eel’s weight shifts off, leaving him free, but cooler.

“What’s for breakfast?” he says, watching Eelektross wriggle off the bed and toward Emmet. Emmet opens the door a bit further, takes a step back, and hefts the eel into his arms, knees bending with the weight. Ingo watches Emmet giggle to himself, shifting Eelektross in his arms to better wrap around his neck and arms, weight heavy against him. Clearly.

“Pancakes,” Emmet huffs. He’s still smiling, something almost infectious.

“Alright,” Ingo sighs.

“I also cut some fruit.”

“I’m getting up,” Ingo grumbles, rolling onto his side before he peels himself up and into a sit.

“I think Elesa left her nice coffee creamer, also.”

“I’m already up, Em,” Ingo snorts, trying not to laugh. “You don’t have to convince me.”

Emmet laughs again.

“Just adding!” he says cheerily, wobbling off toward the living room. In the open doorway, Ingo can see the sprawl of their living room and kitchen, lit by yellow daylight. Ingo sighs, stretching his arms above his head, twisting around. When the room settles, he stands, and he realizes that the room is warm around him. Emmet must’ve turned the heat on, and it must actually be working. He hums as he combs his hair back, wandering into the bathroom to wash his face.

When he finally makes it to the kitchen table, Emmet is sitting at the table, scrolling on his x-transceiver. He’s changed into a cream-colored, high collared sweater, his hair held back with a small headband. Eelektross is lying across the couch, head resting on the arm. There’s a plate of pancakes sitting in front of Ingo’s seat at the table, and a half-eaten plate in front of Emmet. He looks up as Ingo sits, raising his eyebrows.

“Good morning,” Emmet says. He nudges a cup of coffee toward Ingo. It’s a light brown color—likely the way that Ingo likes it. It helps they like their plain coffee the same way. If it were any other type of coffee, Ingo’s certain there would be some big disagreement—type of milk and way of prep and iced versus hot. But Ingo takes a long sip of hot coffee and nearly sighs in relief. Whatever fancy creamer Elesa buys really does make a plain cup of coffee so much better. He sits, nudging Emmet with his foot under the table.

“What are you reading?” he asks, gesturing with his fork to Emmet’s phone. Emmet holds it up.

“Article on a new electric rail system in Galar.” 

Ingo tilts his head, nodding along.

“Interesting. Any good?”

“Very efficient,” Emmet says, nodding along. He eventually pulls back, setting his phone face down on the table and returning to his pancakes. He takes a large bite, and through it, says:

“Maybe Gear Station should get some upgrades.”

Ingo snorts.

“We’re already quite efficient,” he says. “Do you think our trains could be quicker? Easier to board?”

Emmet shrugs.

“Wishful thinking. They’re already automatically driven, so there isn’t much more, but maybe longer cars to hold more passengers. Our trains are quite small.”

“Sounds expensive,” Ingo says, drinking his coffee. He pulls apart his stack of pancakes, poking at them with his fork.

“Maybe they’ve already got an upgrade in the works,” Emmet says. “It’s been a while since we’ve had an all-staff meeting. Perhaps we should inform the director.”

“Especially since I’ve returned and have about three years to catch up on, mm?”

Emmet smiles. It’s a bit tight, though. Ingo glances away, biting into his tongue. Should’ve kept that thought to himself.

“Maybe you’re right,” he says. “Though I promise you that not much has changed in the last three years.”

Ingo hums. He believes it, that nothing much has shifted. It’s hard to say, obviously, considering he wasn’t there to see it for himself, but his brother was never the type to lie without a reason, and this certainly didn’t have a good one. He takes a large bite of pancake and finds them still warm. It’s a quiet breakfast, between pancakes and coffee and Galvantula sleeping underneath the table. Emmet eventually finishes his food, shoveling large bites of pancake into his mouth as quickly as he can. Ingo watches him swallow with surprising difficulty, reaching for his cup of coffee. It takes a moment for Ingo to stomach the rest of his pancakes. Having this much food is a luxury he had not often afforded a month prior. His stomach still wasn’t used to it.

“Where is Elesa?” Ingo asks after a beat. Emmet talks through a mouthful of pancake and strawberry and maple syrup. 

“Mm, she had four battle appointments today, but she’ll be back around. Probably before two.”

Emmet is the first to finish, setting all his dishes together as he stands. He moves around Ingo as Ingo finishes, collecting dishes and setting everything in the sink. As Ingo stands to pass him his plate, he asks:

“Did you have a plan today?

“Mm?” Emmet hums. “No, not particularly. Why? Is there something you wanted to do?”

Ingo frowns, face pulling.

“Well,” he starts. “I was thinking—”

“Ah,” Emmet interjects. “Your first mistake—”

“I was thinking,” Ingo continues, narrowing his eyes. “That it might be a good idea for us to visit Elesa. I need to ask her for a new coat.”

“Mm!” Emmet startles, turning toward him. His face brightens. “That’s right! You do need a new coat. Good thing she’ll be over later, mm?”

Ingo nods. He fetches his coffee mug, pouring another cup of black coffee to balance the sweetened dregs. He leans back against the counter right as Emmet goes to hand him a dish to put away. They work in tandem for a moment, pausing as Ingo works to finish his coffee.

It’s a slow morning, 8:45am, and Ingo gazes back at his bed with longing.

It’s just. When’s the last time he had such a good sleep, right? On a bed that soft? He’d gotten so used to tatami mats and the grass and canvas laid out on the ground and here was a bed, with thick fluffy blankets and several large pillows and another person taking up space. It was very—stop it, Ingo—it’s comfortable. He hands Emmet his coffee mug.

“Ingo,” Emmet says.

Ingo hums. His eyes have drifted to the couch. Maybe standing is a little hard today. He should sit, shouldn’t he?

“Is my brother still up there?” Emmet asks, tapping Ingo’s head. Ingo startles as he does, turning to him.

“I would hope so,” he says. “Otherwise I don’t know where I’d be.”

“Not here, obviously” Emmet says. He finishes rinsing Ingo’s mug, setting it top down on the drying mat. “Though I’m not entirely sure you’re all there right now, are you?”

“Trying,” Ingo hums. “Too much going on.”

Emmet hums, a bit of a laugh showing through.

“You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I won’t,” Ingo promises.

“I don’t believe you,” Emmet says, shutting off the sink. The clean dishes sit on the rack, dripping water. Emmet wipes his hands with a dish towel. “You know, you should be resting if your engine isn’t working at full capacity. Rest is very important”

“Can’t be a well oiled machine with nowhere to go,” Ingo says, folding his arms. “I don’t understand why I don’t have the energy to move anymore.”

“Does the why matter?” Emmet asks. He’s leaning against the counter now, a mirror to Ingo, like he often was to Emmet. It was a natural progression—one following after the other, a mirror, a shadow, a doppleganger.

“It matters a little,” Ingo shrugs. “It matters to me. It gives me a reason.”

“Your reason is that you’ve gone through a lot,” Emmet says, pushing away from the counter. He scoops up his x-transceiver from the table, moving around it and through the apartment as he talks. “Your reason is that your body is playing catch-up with the world around you.”

“Maybe,” Ingo huffs.

“I am Emmet,” says his brother. “I am tired. I don’t sleep well. Do you think it’s my fault that I’m tired and don’t sleep well?”

Ingo grits his teeth. He hates this part—ever since they were little, Emmet would flip this hypocritical card, showing Ingo exactly how stupid he was sounding. It was good, for the most part, because Emmet was right and next time Emmet did the same thing, Ingo could follow suit with that card. But it was so annoying watching it now, watching Emmet throw open the blinds and shimmy open the window for the fire escape. A tinged-cool spring breeze filters in through the open window, tossing the curtains aside. Emmet keeps moving as Ingo thinks, the gears in his head turning slowly, still dulled with sleep. 

“No,” Ingo says shortly, watching Emmet rearrange coasters on the coffee table, setting game controllers back into their docks. “I don’t think anything is your fault.”

“Well now you are just flattering me, Go-Go.”

“Don’t say that flattery never got anyone anywhere,” Ingo says, pointing at him, waving his finger. Emmet laughs.

“My point is,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “You’re allowed to rest. We can figure out the steps from there, right? Even if we’re sitting on the couch to do it.”

Ingo sighs, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Even if I fall asleep?”

Emmet nods, still smiling a little.

“I will wake you if you do.”

Ingo huffs out a laugh, feeling the edges of his mouth quirk up. As Emmet sits on the soft, corduroy couch, Ingo feels himself pulled forward, as if recalled, to sit beside him. He brings his knees up as he settles into his familiar spot between the back and arm of the couch. 

“Do you promise you’ll shake me awake?” Ingo says, leaning his head against the back of the couch. Emmet scrunches his nose.

“Yes,” he says, knocking his knuckles into Ingo’s knee. “I do. But I’m going to watch Alakazam! so you can think without my talking.”

Ingo nods. The television hums to life quietly in the background.

Emmet always watches Alakazam! at 9am. At least, when he can catch it. Ingo watches the last few minutes of the previous game show, something quiet and low despite the flash of colors and excited spread of energy. As the show starts, he watches Emmet’s face shift, that serious pull to his mouth and the furrow of his eyebrows that Ingo only sees when they’re battling. To see that spark again, not knowing how long it’s been gone, turns a question in Ingo’s mind.

“Emmet,” he says.

“Yes, I am Emmet,” Emmet says. “You are Ingo. What do you need?”

“I think I've got an idea of what I want to do today.”

Emmet turns his head a bit, looking at Ingo mostly out of the corner of his eye. His eyes flick back and forth between Ingo’s face and the television, waiting for his program to start.

“Mm?” Emmet asks. Ingo smiles a bit, a laugh stuck behind his teeth.

He sees the glint in Emmet’s eye before he even asks his question.

“What about a pokemon battle?”

[paris-geller-was-straightwashed]

disney is a coward so I know they'll never do this, but given what we learned was SUPPOSE to happen between alex and stevie, I would still love a post-eloping for the reboot.

like just imagine alex and stevie as the Cool Gay Aunts(tm) for justin's kids (+ billie). they show up for the holidays and totally shower the kids with magical gifts, including a baby dragon for the boys (which does end up setting fire to their parents bed sheets). milo shows off a magic trick to his friends, using alex (since billie's not allowed to) sneakily casting spells from the bushes so the card really does dissapear from his hand, leaving his friends cheering (stevie smiling but refusing to admit to alex how cute is it). stevie has a motorcycle (which alex thinks is super hot but also refuses to admit) and while the kids aren't old enough for a ride, she does let them sit on it and rev the handles nice and loud while justin panics from the porch. they team up with all three kids to pull pranks on justin and even sometimes get giana in on a few harmless ones. maybe alex even uses her role on the tribunal to get stevie's records cleared, and they both start to advocate for a more fair way of distributing magic between families.

and billie could have an extra adult at her side! I know justin is suppose to fill the pseudo-dad role, but while billie spends her time with the russo's, also gets to spend her summers or whatever with her two cool wizard aunts. they encourage her to keep up with her studies but for the most part they just chill, letting billie indulge in a few sweets (knowing how health-conscious justin has forced his family to be) and sometimes in a pg-13 movie together. when she's there however, the house does turn into a prank war; guests are to be extremely careful when entering and encouraged to bring a separate pair of clothes.

I dunno it would just be super cool; alex and stevie reunited and I think the kids would love her too - plus watching their aunt who's always acted so aloof get all smiley and whatnot and I'm just imagining a scenario with alex and the kids like:

billie: why does stevie call you babygirl

alex: hey who wants to play the quiet game!!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[kakusu-shipping]

Me? Writing my Balan Wonderworld: Maestro of Mystery, Theatre of Wonders Self Insert chapter? Yeah why not. The tag's already full of OCs and S/Is, might as well add mine into the ring.

Bookworm

Balan Wonderworld Self Insert fic based on the novelization

Streetbeat ran his hand along the brick walls of the town around the Checkered King's castle as they walked, staring at his shoes as he pictured the girl, Fighter, and the man in the hat in his mind.

Who were they? What did they want? Why was he the only one who didn't see anything else...?

The texture along Streetbeat's fingers pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to the wall to see no longer medieval stone work, but books lined perfectly on a shelf that seemed to stretch up into forever.

The floor beneath his feet was no longer black and white tiles, but deep, chocolate brown wood. The narrow alley replaced with tall, cherry red wood stained bookshelves nearly over flowing with thickly bound novels.

Clocktower Kid and Pensive Pierrot turned a corner, with Streetbeat close on their tail, and came out to a skylighted library lobby. Plush seats, couches, pillows, and reading nooks filled every space that wasn't occupied by tables with piles upon piles of books. Transparent residents sat scattered around the area. There was a hush of chatter that never grew loud enough to make out words, like a soft static.

Clocktower kid made her way easily though the maze of plush chairs and towering book stacks to the front desk, which was just as over run by books as every other flat surface. She knocked politely on the large oak desk and called out into the room behind

"Helloooo? Bookworm, are you in?"

From around the corner came a puff of white hair, followed by the face of a young man. His bright red eyes looked almost unnaturally large behind a pair of oversized golden glasses.

"Ooooh! Clocktower kid! Pensive! Hello hello! One moment please!" The man called Bookworm called excitedly before disappearing back into the room behind the desk.

Streetbeat navigated the maze of chairs with the help of Pensive Pierrot and found himself glancing around the building he'd found himself in.

The walls were tall, and while in the stacks the bookshelves seemed to stretch indefinitely, from where he stood now they seemed completely reasonably sized, though he couldn't see the end of alleyways they made. On the ceiling was a large pane of glass in the shape of a tear drop, like the strange crystals that appeared in everyone's stage. Evening sunlight poured in and made the library almost seem to glow with warmth.

Finally, Bookworm stepped out of the backroom, placing a pile of books taller than himself on his desk, "Sorry for the wait." He spoke, pushing the books off to one side, "Shelving."

Bookworm's eyes fell on Streetbeat and lit up in realization.

"Oh! You're Streetbeat! It's so nice to finally meet you." He smiled and reached out a hand, Streetbeat assumed for a handshake and met him half way

"Yeah, likewise-" He began, only to stare in wonder as Bookworm placed a novel in his out stretched hand.

The book was wine red with golden lettering, the word Waltz was written in cursive at the top. There was no author or any sort of cover photo, just the title.

"what's...?" Streetbeat was so caught off guard he couldn't form a full question, he just looked quizzically up at Bookworm, who beamed back at him, seemingly proud of himself.

"Ah, that's how Bookworm welcomes people, he liked to recommend us all novels in his collection. I still haven't finished the one he loaned me..." Pensive explained, scratching the back of his head with a shy smile.

"I finished mine!" Clockwork Kid bragged, "And it was sooooo good I started reading it AGAIN!"

"Oooh, I'm so glad you liked it~" Bookworm cooed, resting his elbows on the desk, leaning closer to Clocktower Kid, "You know when the Prince stole poor Mary away-"

"Aaaaah I read all night to get past that part! I couldn't imagine Mary with anyone other than Atticus!!" Clocktower Kid squealed, pacing a bit in place.

Bookworm nodded, "They get there in the end of course but that carriage accident, oh and the poor bunny, it's just all too stressful!" The short man sighed, then sat up straight and clapped his hands, "But enough about that! Are you three here to peruse the stacks?"

"Actually," Pensive spoke, "we came to talk to you. We think something bad might be happening in Wonderworld."

As Pensive Pierrot explained the visions everyone had been having of the girl and the man in the hat, Streetbeat took a moment again to look around the library.

Every stage so far had been missing something, something obvious to everyone but the stage's inhabitant. He thought it was weird the novel Bookworm had given him didn't have an author on it, but it wasn't unheard of, so he decided to do a little snooping, just to be sure.

Streetbeat picked up a random book from one of the stacks on a nearby low table, it was a deep forest green with the word Nightfall written in bold golden lettering. The one under it was a soft baby pink, the word Daybreak was seemingly stamped on in a deep blue simple font.

The one under than and the one under that followed suit, a single color cover with a one word title and no author.

Streetbeat put all the books back where he'd gotten them and turned back to the group, where Bookworm was now standing with his arms crossed, biting the tip of his thumb.

"I... I have... seen them..." He admitted hesitantly, glancing at the stack he'd pushed to the side before, which seemed now unbalanced and ready to topple at any moment.

"Did you see anything else?" Pensive asked as Streetbeat came to his side again.

Bookworm seemed to hesitate, biting harder at the tip of his thumb as he glanced around the library lobby.

"I saw a monster," Clocktower Kid admitted, putting her hand on the desk in front of Bookworm, "it was scary.. I didn't wanna talk about it either.."

Bookworm released a sigh he'd been holding at Clocktower Kid's confession and placed his hand on hers, holding it. He closed his eyes a moment and took a deep breath, the tower of books next to him stopped swaying.

"I saw a building... It was huge, and the doors were open like I was supposed to go in but I... I felt like going in would be my doom... Like I'd be trapped there forever..."

Clocktower Kid held Bookworm's hand tightly in her own, a look of sympathy on her face.

Bookworm took another deep breath, "Who is he? The man in the hat?"

"We don't know," Streetbeat placed his hand on the desk, "But we think something bad's going to happen."

Bookworm looked between the three of them, then squarely at Pensive, "Have you spoken to Lance?"

Pensive winced at the question, glancing first to Streetbeat, then Clocktower kid, before sighing, "Yeah... He warned us to stay out of it..."

Bookworm released Clocktower Kid's hands and stood up straight, "Then that's what I'll do." He turned and picked up half the books from the stack beside him, then walked off into the bookselves.

"Wait!" Streetbeat followed quick on his heels, Pensive hesitating only to follow as Clocktower Kid raced after the two of them.

"Aren't you worried? Somethings happening, these visions, they're not nothing!" Streetbeat argued when he caught up to Bookworm, who shelved books without so much as looking.

"If Lance says it's better to stay out of it, I trust him." Bookworm spoke matter-of-factly, pushing along a large latter on wheels.

"But what if something happens to Wonderworld?"

"Lance will take care of it, he takes care of us."

"But-"

Pensive Pierrot put his hand on Streetbeat's shoulder to stop him, he and Clocktower kid both shook their heads.

Streetbeat sighed and nodded, admitting defeat. He looked down at the Waltz book in his hand before setting in on a nearby self.

He followed the two down the seemingly never ending rows of books until they found themselves standing amidst ancient ruins, the stage of a man called Invisible Custodian.

[zincbot]

man. after getting the ending where you ride off with meryl i find out that i missed out on the homoerotic otacon ending

[hells-greatestdad]

//

Another mutual got me pondering what if Lucifer had a voxtagram account and the things he'd post to it

I kinda want to make a side blog for that as well lmaoo

[maranull]

Idk if still do random headcanons or not (pls ignore if you're tired of em!!)

But what do you think the Elden Ring crew like to do in their free time?

I DO!! I only stopped cause the asks stopped.

Also, Bim, you made the "mistake" to not specify any characters so I'm doing most of them like that pet ask. >:) No one actually read the pet ask, it's filled with typos and wrong words. Dyslexia is fun. And also I'm not fixing it.

These are kinda what they would do solo. I think a lot of them would actually just spent time with others doing whatever came to mind.

~

Blaidd: He finds the closest tree and rests under its trunk. He mostly just listens to the sounds around him and takes in the environment. Sometimes he cleans his boots.

Yura: He has a stick that he uses to write in the dirt. Mostly just practising his calligraphy, but sometimes he puts down his deeper thoughts.

Boc: Boc lives for his work. He always is tailoring something, then unraveling it and starting again.

Diallos Hoslow: He likes to play fight with the small jars in Jarburg. When they tire he usually sits with the older jars and they share stories from when they traveled outside Jarburg.

Fia: If she knows she's alone and will stay alone for some time, she practices with her dagger. When the other people are around, she simply sits and zones out, remembering the days before Godwyn's death and her time even before him.

Finlay: I think she likes origami (or the Lands Between equivalent). She's advanced enough that she doesn't really need patterns anymore, so she just finds something she likes and makes it with paper.

Radahn: A lot of his time is spend with Leonard. Often he joins his troops to talk and have fun. While he's undeniably the commander, he never shies away from mingling with the foot soldiers.

Pre-mermaid Godwyn: He read a lot. He had access to Marika's library and spend most of his free hours there. If he had a couple days free, he usually made quick trips to the Haligtree.

Latenna: Daydreams a lot. I headcanon that she lived in Ordina for some time before descending to Liurnia, and there she had a small desk where she would write small stories and general worldbuilding ideas.

Ranni: She likes to read sometimes, but 95% of her free time is spend with her falling face first on the bed, sleeping like she's dead. On the rare occasion that she's feeling energetic, she will talk to either Blaidd or Iji and talk for a bit before passing out. They carry her to bed after a while.

Malenia: Mostly uses her free time to train. Sometimes writes small letters to Finlay that she never sends.

Morgott: Prays.

Melina: Usually she just talks to Torrent. She also likes making grass rings and baskets out of plants. She doesn't make the baskets often, but when she does, she makes sure that she's close to a settlement so that they are found and put to use. Otherwise, she likes to sit in the sun and enjoy the warmth and the nature sounds around her.

Millicent: She's very similar to her mother. Usually just takes the free time for extra training or reading books and scrolls about medicine (for Scarlet Butterflies reasons).

Mary: Likes spending time around the Cleanrot barracks. She doesn't always join in with the soldiers, sometimes she just likes the noise.

Amy: Usually she sneaks away to a small creek she has found near Elphael. She dances sometimes, just to feel movement that's calming and not the tense survival moves she had to learn when they were in Caelid.

Maureen: Usually she's found in Miq's garden, checking on the bigger trees. She also has a small sapling that she planted herself, and she checks on it daily.

Polyanna: She just disappears. One moment she's seen walking at the Elphael market, the other she's on top of the roofs, sprinting and jumping like she's being chased by a runebear. Basically, she likes to move and see movement. On rare occasions, Millie has found her passed out on the Haligtree's branches, just taking in the sun and wind.

Miquella: Free time? Never heard of it. Just pass him another cup of tea already.

Nepheli: One of the first things she did after fixing most of the mess that Godrick had made in Stormveil, was to build a big aviary on one of the towers. She's there every free moment she has.

Patches: He likes puzzles, particularly puzzle rings and the like.

Roderika: Lots of her time is spent in the local graveyard. She likes talking to the spirits there, and enjoys learning about lives past.

Rogier: If there is a library in the vicinity, you'll find this man knee deep into a pile of books, reading the day and night away. He likes nothing more than reading.

Rya: Rya likes painting. She never shows her art to anyone, cause her style is more Van Gogh than realism. She things her works are awful but she keeps making more and more cause she loves the process of painting maybe more than the result.

Thops: Big fan of baking. Makes killer tarts. Savoury, sweet, whatever you can thing of, he can tart it.

Iji: Another chronic reader. He always nags Blaidd to bring him new books, and our dearest wolfman always returns with at least one.

Marika: Her chambers are basically the Lands Between version of the library of Alexandria. She reads. A lot. But also she likes putting on her mimic veil and being a nuisance to whomever she feels like. As her kids moved away, she started sneaking around at their bases, just to see them from afar.

Rennala: When she's not reading (I'm sorry, almost every character in here feels like they would be an avid reader) she likes to gather the newest gossip from her guards. On one hand she just likes the information, on the other she uses it to help whomever needs it. It's an open secret that if you're having troubles in the Academy, at the next full moon you'll get something that can assist you waiting at your doorstep.

Rykard: He is usually found at his private workshop, making small trinkets. Yes, his break from making war machines is making toy machines. Before settling in with Tanith he was quite the tavern goer though. They sometimes still go together, but their duties and status have kinda alienate them from it.

~

I skipped a decent amount of characters I think, so feel free to add on, whomever wants to!

And thank you sm for the ask, Bim!! I missed writing these. :D

Also I'm not checking for spelling, I have a headache, byeee!! <3

[marmastry]

Whats your process like when doing Comics? Not only fancomics but also original works like palitaw? Im a big fan of your comics!

Aww that’s really flattering ;w; ! It’s so nice to know some people have read my first one-shot out there. It's the comic that gave me the confidence to pursue this art form just a little bit more too.

These days, I just don't find it exciting to work on one big fully rendered illustration, I often feel like something more could be told if there were interactions or a little bit more context added to it, you know just like in comics? So yea, there's that and also me in my brain who won't shut up about what if there was a this and that, what if it goes this way instead? Just lots of blabbering. My brain has too much room for it (help).

Anyway, let's move on to my process. I won't be giving you a detailed routine of how I do it, but rather how I deal with it.

My secret is that I just take my time.

This goes for many things but tbh I do it more than before because I don't really see myself as a writer, or a comic creator but as an artist with a new hobby trying out something new and unfamiliar. It took me one and a half year to finally start drawing Palitaw because I didn't have the confidence to meet my own standards. It's typical of me to be hard on myself lol but eventually, I realized that doing so won't push me forward so I pushed myself to take time instead. The best part of it is there's no deadline to dread at all haha.

When I work on a draft, I don't immediately finalize it. I just ignore it for a few days or maybe a week. Just enough time to forget what I initially felt about it (including the cringe of a few hours of tunnel visioning to it). This way, I can put myself back into a reader's position before I start making better adjustments.

But Mar, what about my waning interest?

Ok, so listen, I’m old by internet standards and I’ve learned that love and interest won’t be enough to manifest anything. It’s the commitment. When I worked on my one-shots, and fancomics, the feelings of excitement, or grief I felt at the start vanished once I put in the work. Now that I’ve put myself through it not just once but many times, I think I’m getting used to it? I'm honestly sad I gave up on a few drafts now when I reread some of them. It's this feeling that keeps me committed to some of my own very self-indulgent projects these days.

Here' a little compensation for making you read through that. This is what my drafts looks like. They're silly little doodles on a 11 x 16 sketchpad. Big ideas start small, as they say. If something so low effort made me smile, perhaps i should keep at it haha!

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Head in my hands wondering if I'll have to cut the entire Chume Labs section out because it's more suited to being a different chapter, but also knowing the next chapter can't have it either so I might have to cut it from this fic entirely aaaAAAAAAAAAA

[unproduciblesmackdown]

oh yeah the way mass effect made me think of portal which is surely what youtube was doing too in sliding me a portal related video which made me think of like ah yes that little harmonizing thing want you gone credits song does, another banger. then i was like wait speaking of secret losersongs filmed rehearsal videos just the other day was reexperiencing like code monkey's really a banger as well, the way that part of the chorus could have one line end on One Pitch then the next line end a half step up but Doesn't & that pwns actually. then going hang on and they're both jonathan coulton. they're All jonathan coulton (adding in: wow just like will putting still alive on his off the shits jared kleinman a.m. pump up playlist)

[ask-red-and-solomon]

What more could there be to lose..?

[jcryptid]

Currently in a state of 'stumbled across an old fic idea' that has me, for some indescernable reason, seized by the motivation gremlin late at night on what is technically monday morning

[front-facing-pokemon]

[aluminumoxideaddict]

Some previews of art I’ve been working on during the last nine months or so, just to break my unintended hiatus and to show I’m still alive. 

I’m hoping to revamp this blog a bit and update a bunch of my old art during May and June... if life doesn’t get in the way, that is.