#I thought I'd never reach this goal before the end of the year

[blvdcharms]

Thank you for 200 followers!

Biggest thanks to everyone who stayed this long, but I can't believe I made it this far! You all mean the world to me. With the new year coming, here's to many more! <3

Along with reaching 200 on DA, I plan to host something special for you all to enjoy, so stay tuned for that ^^

[wecandoit]

Hi everyone! I've been doing this challenge called 30 days of intentionality (30doi) and I thought I'd explain how I'm doing it in case anyone wants to join in! I have no prompts for this one bc it is by nature quite personal.

THE CHALLENGE

Similar to the 30 days of productivity challenge, this one is really open to interpretation. Anyone can do it and mold it however they like, I'm just here to give a little bit of guidance to those who need it.

For me, intentions include 'keeping in good health', 'studying for my dream job', 'working towards my career', 'maintaining and building good friendships'.

If you're unsure about how to format your posts, this is what i include:

- date - intentions (if you make these vague, it's a good idea to elaborate on how you plan to achieve your intentions) - a recommendation (current reads, songs, movies, videos, etc) - reflection - tags with #30doi here's an example of one of my 30doi posts for reference

other notes:

I usually update my post throughout the day, crossing out the stuff I've done and adding in a reflection before bed if i can.

You can do this challenge manually, I sometimes write my intentions down on paper for a few days and then transcribe (you don't have to transcribe)

This challenge should be for you, don't worry about posting consistently, or making your posts pretty. the important thing is that you are being intentional with your day.

Even if you don't physically post or write your intentions, try to think to yourself what they might be each day, and try your best to meet those.

Off-days are okay, in fact, they are what make this challenge a real challenge. if you're just running on the momentum of having had a perfect streak, there's no difficulty in this

Tag your posts under the tag #30doi so that others can see your posts and interact (including me)

if you want a reblog, i track the tag #heydilli which can be used for non-challenge posts too

That's all I can think of for now, but like I said, the 30doi is open to interpretation and i am by no means taking credit for 'creating' the challenge. like i mentioned for the 30dop, i don't really believe these challenges can be created. Below the cut is a rant about intentionality and my reasons for doing this challenge if you want to have a read.

Hope to see your posts and progress, xx dilli 🤍

What is intentionality?

We all know what intentions are—your purpose and meaning behind doing something. Intentionality is bigger, it is "the structure which gives meaning to experience." Intentionality is your capacity to have intentions. Having intentions governs how you perceive every experience you have. Take this example: if your intention for tonight is to wind down and relax, settling down in front of the TV will be viewed as a way to rest, reset, recover. If however, your intention for tonight is finish up uni work, watching TV will be viewed as a way that you procrastinate and avoid doing your work. Your perception of anything, then, is informed by your intentions. Without intentions, anything that you do can seem pointless. I often have a never-ending list of assignments, but if I don't actively intend to do work, watching Youtube all night doesn't seem like a bad thing—after all, it's not like I intended to do anything else with my time.

Why am I doing this challenge?

Lately I find myself moving through my daily routine rather mindlessly. I do a bit of schoolwork here, a bit of mindless scrolling there, but I don't really know why I'm doing these things. I have goals that I'm working towards, but they seem distant and unaffected by my day-to-day choices. In reality, though, the choices that I make every day are what determine whether I reach my goals, where I will be and what kind of person I am in five or ten or however many years. By setting intentions, I will make it clear what I should be doing and why it is important that I do it. The idea is that by merely logging my intentions and results over these 30days, I will subconsciously be predisposed to fulfil those intentions

Read more about intentionality here

[misshoneyimhome]

250 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

"Why can't you just do what you're being told?" I William Nylander

Summary; Sometimes, a push can make all the difference, even within the realm of relationships.

Tropes & warnings; smut 18+, friends-with-benefits, friends to lovers, fighting to sex (is that a thing?); mention of masturbation, unprotected sex (p in v), spanking, more unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving);

Other notes; This one's for you, styles217, my love.🤍 Although it didn't end up as angsty as I'd envisioned 🙈, I hope you still enjoy it 🤞🏼 Surprisingly though, it ended up containing more smut than I initially planned, thanks to the requests I chose to combine it with [“take it out on me” I “I will never get enough of you” 🔥] - And no, I don’t actually think anyone on the coaching team would say something like this, and I’ve got no idea if anyone on the internet would react in such way; but for the plot of the story, they did 🤍 Knock on wood for not jinxing the winning streak ✊

Word count; 4.1K

➼｡ﾟ

It had been quite a week. The Leafs had been on the road for a week, still keeping up their winning streak, which exceeded everyone's expectations. But even from the comfort of your sofa, you could sense that the games were getting more intense.

It was becoming clearer that the playoffs were getting closer. And suddenly, you noticed new aspects of your beloved William Nylander.

_

William had always been a talented ice hockey player. He might as well have been born with skates on his feet because the ice rink was his natural habitat. At just 16 years old, hockey became his first real profession, following in his father’s footsteps with aspirations of greatness.

And now, with his latest eight-year contract extension playing for the Maple Leafs, he was having the best season of his career.

Watching him play was almost magical - Every goal he scored or assist he made showcased his deep passion for the sport. And to you, he was simply an incredible person. 

Despite the challenges that came with the fast-paced lifestyle, being part of William’s world felt nothing short of amazing. Over the past six months, the two of you had developed some sort of a bond, and there was nothing else you would have traded it for.

William Nylander had stolen your mind and soul from the moment he walked into the quaint coffee shop one early Wednesday morning before a training session. As he was completely exhausted and absent-minded, he inadvertently reached for something that appeared to be his drink, however as it turned out it was your coffee. With a gentle laugh and a charming smile, you kindly asked the handsome hockey player not to take it and encouraged him to enjoy his own instead.

Which then had turned out to be great a conversation starter, leading to a casual dating slash sort of a friends-with-benefits arrangement. Nothing too intense, just two consenting young adults enjoying each other's company, indulging in mind blowing sex, and relishing in easygoing conversations and hangouts.

However, perfection is elusive. Despite William's charm, kindness, and humour, he had a temper. Which you had only glimpsed bits of before, with penalties and a few snappy comments after tough losses.

But what happened during the Coyotes match was on another level.

William didn’t just receive penalties, but he suddenly also reacted aggressively to the pushes he usually shrugged off. He pushed back forcefully, his eyes blazing with anger.

And to your surprise, you found it incredibly arousing. Your cunt even tingled as William pushed the Coyote player, and a scuffle broke out among other players.

Never before had a hockey match stirred such arousal in you. And to top it off, the Leafs emerged victorious.

That night, thoughts of William's roughness lingered, leading you to touch yourself, and reaching an orgasm in a way you hadn't experienced before. The sheets beneath you were soaked as you moaned William's name into the emptiness with a whimper.

_

The game against Arizona was then followed by another impressive win, this time against the Knights, and then furthermore; a victory over the Avalanches after three thrilling periods, bringing the road trip to a satisfying conclusion.

Yet, as entertaining as it was to follow William and the team, it paled in comparison to being back in Toronto with him, where you could finally be intimate again.

And already Sunday afternoon you found yourself back at his place after he had a lie-in and taken care of the dogs. Entangled on his ample couch, his lips passionately locked with yours as your tongues explored each other with every shared breath.

With William on top of you, your fingers entwined in his blonde locks as he moved his warm mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and nipping, eliciting sweet noises from you.

He was insatiable. After a week of being apart, William craved the feeling of you wrapped around him, longing to reach his own release in the midst of passion.

Clothes littered the floor of the living room, and despite the TV show still playing in the background, your moans filled the space of his condo. His two doodles lounged in a basket nearby as William guided his hard, throbbing member to your tight entrance.

Feeling William's hands on you again was nothing short of amazing. His mouth expertly melded with yours as his cock stretched you, sending waves of pleasure through your body with every thrust.

It was intense and messy. Bodies slick with sweat as you passionately connected on the sofa. His movements were determined, rough, and primal as he straightened his position, one leg on the floor, the other knee on the cushion, holding one of your legs against his chest while the other wrapped around his waist, thrusting mercilessly into you.

Your hands eagerly searched for something to grip onto, settling on the pillow behind your head as your mind blurred and your body melted for him.

You moaned loudly, the sounds mixing with the TV as you reached the peak of orgasm. But William didn't let you rest for a moment. Instead, he increased his intensity, feeling himself nearing the edge as your muscles tightened around him. And with heavy breaths, he thrust vigorously until he reached his climax, releasing his cum into you.

The intensity of the moment was palpable as you both took a few minutes to come down from the high and regain control of your breathing. It was a prime example of how raw and amazing your sex could be – effortless yet dirty, filled with desire.

And what came after was even better: William's tenderness as he caressed your curves in the post-sex shower was almost romantic. The way he caressed every inch of your skin was incredibly arousing, washing away the remnants of your sofa session. And then, he kneeled before you, placing hungry kisses on your core.

It was an added treat he provided, indulging in a late-night snack before you settled in for the night, knowing that Monday morning and the workday would soon be upon you.

_

It was another day of facing adult responsibilities at work, with the excitement of hockey on hold until reuniting with William in the afternoon.

However, while your day passed uneventfully, William found himself stirred by something deeper. His recent behaviour during matches hadn't gone unnoticed, and while fights were often accepted in the sport, comments about William being 'out of character' emerged.

Social media buzzed with opinions about him; criticising his usual calm demeanour, suggesting it wasn't present to support the team during heated moments, and deeming his actions as outrageous.

Which ignited William's temper. Despite his stellar performance in recent games – scoring goals and providing assists – he felt unjustly criticised. And more over it seemed that every attempt to express confidence in his own game was met with accusations of selfishness and 'overconfidence'.

It simply seemed William couldn't strike a balance. If he didn't score goals, he was deemed a bad player. If he didn't assist but scored himself, he wasn't seen as a team player. And if he didn't contribute at all, he was deemed unworthy of the team. He was often labeled as the attractive star player, good at scoring goals, but not as exceptional as Auston Matthews or as dominant as other players like Rielly, Reaves, and Tavares.

'Nylander’s a talented player, but he only cares about scoring for himself.'

‘Great to see WN88 take on some responsibilities when wearing the A – but he’s nothing like MR44’

The power of public opinion could be harsh.

Though most of the time, William didn’t even pay much attention to the criticism, knowing he was a great player, and his confidence remained unshaken. But often when he tried to brush off the comments and act nonchalant, it only fuelled speculation about his carelessness.

And, for some unexpected reason, he found himself unable to contain his temper on that particular Monday. Tired of the negative remarks, he wanted to prove that he could be just as strong and skilled as anyone else.

So, during Monday’s ice training, he attempted to assert his dominance. But things didn't go entirely as planned. Although the comments from the assistant coaches might not have been intended to be negative, they still managed to pierce through his thick skin.

"Hey Willy, we all know you did great as an alternate captain in Mo’s absence. However, maybe focus more on your scoring, passing to Auston, and breakaways – you know, the things you’re great at."

William simply nodded in response to the coaching staff's encouragement. But as they all left the locker room, he still couldn't shake off the words entirely.

"Hey," you greeted him with a warm smile in the hallway, joining the other partners of the team. "Want to go out for dinner?"

"Sure," he responded tersely, his tone devoid of your enthusiasm. "Just go wait by the car, I’ll be right there."

His voice was low and cold, but as his confidant, you resolved to show your support and be there for him.

"That's alright, I'll just wait here until you're ready," you replied, offering a reassuring smile.

"Just go and wait by the car," he suddenly snapped, his words sharper than before.

“What did you just say?” 

“Go wait by the fucking car.”

"Oh no... You don’t get to talk to me like that, Willy..." you retorted, your voice firm and steady. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just... I'll meet you outside."

"No, I'm not leaving until you talk nicely to me!"

"Why can't you just do what you're being told?" William shouted, his voice echoing through the hallway. 

You were taken aback. William had never shouted at you, especially not in public like this. While your relationship wasn’t without its disagreements, it had never escalated to this level.

But you held his gaze firmly as the others dispersed, the tension between you palpable. 

There was a silence that hung heavy in the air. A moment where every thing could fall apart if you let it. But instead you decided to take the battle elsewhere.

"Fine," you finally spat, before turning and walking towards the exit.

And needless to say, the ride back to William’s place was dead silent, broken only when William left the car to pick up your takeaway dinner, opting not to go out. And when he returned, he slammed the door shut, and the journey to his place remained eerily quiet.

You felt his frustration emanating from him as you entered the condo, and as you placed the bags of food on the kitchen counter, you decided you couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Willy... do you have any idea how humiliating that was?" you said with a steady voice, trying to catch his gaze, but he remained hunched over the counter, looking down.

"So what?" he replied curtly.

You let out a small sigh. "So what?... Willy, I'm not a toy you can play with however you like... I'm a person with feelings."

"Don't you think I have feelings too?" he suddenly erupted, standing up straight and taking a step towards you. "Don't you think I feel frustrated and annoyed? That I'm not this perfectly calm and chill guy everyone always wants me to be?"

"So, you're upset because you're a talented hockey player, but not perfect in every way?" you asked a hint of rhetoric in your tone, raising a brow. "Willy, nobody's perfect, and nobody can live up to everyone's expectations."

"Don't you think I know that! But it still doesn’t make the frustrations go away, y/n... not that you would know how it feels to just want to... let go!"

And you suddenly found yourself releasing a breath you hadn't realised you'd been holding. William's words were sharp and filled with tension, fuelled by his passion for the sport. And strangely, you felt the same arousal you had felt the night you witnessed his anger for the first time.

"Take it out on me," you spoke softly, still maintaining a firm tone as you extended the invitation.

"What?" William inquired, taken aback by your bold offer.

"Take your frustrations out on me, Willy... let go, be angry... do what you need to do..."

For a moment, he couldn't comprehend what you were suggesting. His mind raced with thoughts, but as his eyes met yours, a sudden surge of desire and lust overwhelmed him. The offer was too tempting to resist. And without hesitation, he closed the gap between you, fuelled by a primal urge.

His lips almost crashed onto yours, his hands gripping your head tightly as he held you close. Your breath was stolen as he forcefully slid his tongue into your mouth, exploring your warmth with intensity, pressing his body against yours.

Your hands instinctively found his neck, but they couldn't stay still as William, using his size to his advantage, guided you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. Clothes were shed along the way, leaving a trail of passion in their wake.

The intensity was so overwhelming that you barely registered how quickly you ended up standing by the bed, clad only in your lacy thong, as William's mouth continued to ravage yours until he breathlessly stepped back.

"On your hands and knees," his voice commanded roughly, his breath heavy and his eyes filled with lust.

And feeling your cunt already pulsating merely from the sound of his voice, you removed your last piece of fabric, and obeyed without hesitation.

William couldn't help but smirk as he admired the sight of your exposed cheeks before him. And as he lowered his boxers, freeing his hard cock, he slowly joined you on the mattress, kneeling behind you as he let his hands explore your soft skin.

"So you want me to let go, baby," he spoke darkly from behind, his mind clouded with thoughts of what he wanted to do to you. “I’ll fucking let go.”

And by encouragement form you, be withdrew his large hand from your ass, intensely stared at your ass before delivering a hard slap against your skin.

"Oh fuck..." you cried out, feeling the sting of his spank.

"You liked that, huh?" William inquired darkly, and all you could do was nod, earning another hard spank.

His force was harsh. Harder than you’d ever been playfully spanked before, and you could tell he was releasing some negative energy with two more intense smacks. His breath heavy and deep but his fifth and last spank, which had beautifully decorated your skin with a red hue.

And as you let out a soft cry mixed with a pleasure-filled moan, William felt satisfied with his actions. Shifting slightly in his position, he teased the tip of his cock against your entrance.

"Do you think you deserve this?" he asked, his voice filled with desire. “You think you deserve to be fucked?”

You could feel nothing but your muscles pulsating between your legs, yearning to be filled by his length.

"Yes," you whimpered, your legs trembling with anticipation.

"Good girl..." 

And with a forceful thrust, William slammed his cock into you, burying himself deep inside your cunt and hitting your very depths.

His hands gripped your waist firmly as he established a steady rhythm of forceful thrusts, channeling all his frustration and annoyance into each powerful movement. With every slam, he felt himself releasing the pent-up tension, letting go of the negativity that had been weighing on him.

It was almost too overwhelming for you. His vigorous thrusts caused your body to tremble, pushing you closer to orgasm much quicker than anticipated as he pounded and overstimulated your walls.

Usually it’d take more than just forceful penetrating sex like this to give you that pleasurable high, however with William’s merciless performance, you suddenly found yourself nearing a peak. 

And as if you had no control over yourself, your moans grew louder with each collision of skin against skin, and soon you found yourself clutching onto the sheets beneath you.

"Willy," you breathed, your voice filled with need. "I'm gonna come..."

Your words were music to his ears, mingling with moans and cries as he revelled in the pleasure he was giving you. And with no intention of slowing down, he continued to fuck you hard and fast.

"Oh fuck... Willy..." you cried out, your cunt dripping with juices as you threw your head back and allowed yourself to reach the peak of ecstasy, waves of climax rushing over your body.

William could feel how your walls clenched tightly around him as you embraced your orgasm, relishing in the sight of you closing your eyes in ecstasy and feeling your body shake and surrender to him.

And though as much as he wanted to continue fucking you hard and bring you to multiple orgasms, he also felt the urgency for his own release.

So, he paused his movements, allowing you to come down from the euphoria and catch your breath, before gently withdrawing his length from your dripping core. It was a sight to behold, seeing how perfectly your heat fit him, reflecting the pleasure he had given you.

But for now, he desired something else from you.

"I want you on your knees, baby, on the floor," his husky voice commanded, and with a deep breath, you summoned the strength to move your body.

Despite your legs feeling like jelly beneath you, you managed to manoeuvre from the bed to the middle of the room, where you flashed William a confident smirk as you knelt before him. You knew exactly what he wanted, and you were more than willing to give it to him.

Then patiently waiting for him to draw closer, you glanced up at him with desire in your eyes, parting your lips slightly as he approached. You yearned to taste him, to feel his hardness against your tongue, and even to savor your own essence.

And William happily gave it to you.

Holding his cock before your mouth, he gazed intensely down at you, silently granting you permission to take him.

Without hesitation, you accepted. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you began by circling it with your tongue. Then taking a deep breath through your nose, you focused on relaxing the back of your throat, guiding him in slowly and effortlessly. You felt him reach the back of your mouth, but you allowed him to push in further.

Gently withdrawing your head slightly, you coated his shaft with your saliva before taking him in entirely once again. And while taking your time, you savoured the sensation before starting to move your head in rhythmic motions, bobbing up and down on his length. Your lips wrapped around him as you moved, using your dominant hand where your mouth couldn't reach.

William's fingers found the back of your hair, gently gripping it as he began to let his hips move in sync with your motions. And as the pleasurable sensations intensified, so did his actions.

You allowed him to take control, something you wouldn't normally do as you needed to manage your gag reflex and breathing. But tonight was William's night to let loose, which meant allowing him to guide his cock in and out of your mouth.

And while feeling his grip tighten in your hair, you managed to glance up at him through your lashes and saw how he tilted his head back, surrendering to the moment.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he mumbled between moans.

Knowing exactly how to push him over the edge, you released your hand from around the base of his cock and placed both palms on his muscular thighs. Taking another deep breath, you prepared yourself as best you could before letting him push his shaft all the way into your throat, causing your nose to brush against his pubic hair. Holding still for a few seconds, you allowed yourself to gag around his cock before pulling off completely and gasping for air.

"Oh shit! Fuck, babe," William panted above you as you stroked his length. "That's fucking hot."

And you knew it was. William had often expressed his love for your blowjobs, and sometimes hinted at his desire for more dominant behaviour. While he had never actually choked you with his cock, he had shown some interest, which was how you knew he would enjoy how you forced him all the way down.

Then taking another breath, you placed both hands on his thighs once more and took him back into your mouth. And this time, William wanted nothing more than to come for you. Knowing how good you could be for him, he held onto you firmly, meeting your eyes as he thrust against your mouth.

It was forceful and dominant, as he relished every gagging noise you made. And as he fucked your mouth faster, he felt himself on the brink of climax.

"Oh yes, baby, that’s it! Oh, I'll never get enough of you," he moaned, his eyes shutting tightly. "Your mouth is so fucking..." But his words were cut off by a deep grunt as his climax took over, and he unleashed his load into your warmth.

You felt his muscles tense under your touch, your nails digging into them as he held his cock in your mouth, ensuring you received every single drop he had to offer.

Both of you remained still for a brief moment as William came down from his high, and holding back your instincts, you gazed up at him as you waited for his approval.

Slowly, he pulled himself out of your mouth, allowing you to taste every inch of his shaft. And locking eyes with you once more, he issued his final command.

"Swallow."

With a gulp, you let his raw cum slide down your throat, before releasing a light sensual gasp. It was nothing but an intense moment of sexual silence as you stared up at the man before you.

"Shit, baby, you're way too good at this," his dark words praised, and slowly he helped you to your feet.

"Did I at least help you with the frustrations?" you chuckled lightly.

"Oh, yes, you did," William replied, flashing you a great smile before pulling you into a cuddle. "How about a shower?"

"How about we heat up dinner?" you suggested with a laugh.

"Good idea - but shower first."

It felt as if all the tension had dissipated, as if there were no lingering issues anymore. Yet, a part of you remained uncertain about the true nature of your relationship with William.

As you enjoyed a later dinner after the post-sex shower, smiles gracing both of your faces, you couldn't help but ponder what was going on inside William's mind.

However, as you cuddled up, feeling satisfied in every aspect, he beat you to the conversation.

"Hey... thanks for... you know, today," he started softly, his thumb caressing your shoulder as his arms enveloped you, turning his head to face you.

"Of course, it's what I'm here for," you replied with a content smile.

"Yeah, I know, it's just..." he continued softly, struggling to articulate his thoughts. "You don't have to... let me do that... you could’ve just walked away after what happened at the rink."

"I know, but I didn’t want to walk away... Willy, I know I'm not exactly your girlfriend or anything, but whatever this is, to me, it's something..."

"Exactly... and I guess I just... I don't know how to say it, but I just feel like there might be more... you're so amazing, and I just really want you around, all the time... and I understand if that's not what you want, because it's not always easy with me, but... if you want to, I'd like to have you..."

His last words almost came out in slow motion, uncertainty evident in how he expressed his feelings.

"Willy, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Yeah... I think I am."

You were slightly taken aback by his question. Despite being intimate and spending a lot of time together for months, you didn't think William was considering this direction. On the contrary actually, you had been nervous he wanted to end it because of the increasing intensity of the season.

"Yes, Willy... of course I'd want to be your girlfriend," you finally managed to speak, the words carrying a mix of joy and relief. "Babe, I was honestly afraid you'd had enough of me...."

It was a moment you had both anticipated and feared, but now that it was here, it felt nothing but right. Leaning in, you sealed your answer with a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of your commitment to each other.

William's eyes sparkled with happiness as he returned the kiss, his arms pulling you closer. It was a moment of clarity amidst the chaos of life, a moment where everything just felt right.

"Oh, I already told you; I'll never get enough of you," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. 

[isalisewrites]

A ramble on writing for my mental health

At the end of 2023, I calculated how long it would take me to finally get through the slow burn to the first kiss between Tom and Harry in Terrible, But Great.

At the rate I'd been posting at, I discovered that it would take an approximate of 3 to 4 years to get to the first kiss.

When I tell you that I lost it, I mean that I lost my motherfucking mind. 3 to 4 GODDAMN FUCKING YEARS to get to the FIRST KISS???

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I ranted. I screamed. I raged. Unacceptable. Absolutely not. Fuck no. I refuse. Friends would say, "No, it's okay. We can wait. Take care of yourself. Mental health. Important. Blah blah blah."

NO. I love you.

NO!

I don't want to wait that long. I, ME, the author, do not want to wait three to four years to share one of my favorite chapters of all time. I don't want to wait. My soul wept at such an idea. Because there's so much more to come after the first kiss. How long would it take me to finish what I'd started? Life is fleeting. Life is fragile. I know this all too well when my mother died far too young in my arms. I'm not saying something will happen to me, but this story is so important to me.

And so

A determination like no other came over me.

I made an immovable, unshakable goal. I needed to write every single day, before everything else in my life. It had to be first. I wake up; I write. I've gained so much good by going to college, but I've also lost so much when it came to writing. I needed this. I needed to write - before the duties, the homework, the chores, before EVERYTHING because I needed it.

I decided that 700 words a day was a reasonable goal for me. I could do it. I could reach that. If I wrote 700 words a day, it'd be an average of 21,000 words per month with a total of 255,500 words for all of 2024.

Not only would I reach the first kiss, not only would I finish Arc Two, I would also finish Arc Three, which contains the climatic purpose of the whole story.

On that day, when I never really made New Year's Resolutions in the past, I set this daily goal of 700 words per day.

It's now the end of January. Did I accomplish this goal?

Yes.

-

This is a screenshot of my daily word count in January.

50,461 words.

Not only did I reach the goal, I surpassed it. There's 35,000 words more in Arc Two than there was at the beginning of January. There's 15,000 words more in Arc Three, Arc Four, and Arc Five collectively.

I discovered so much about the story in Terrible, But Great. I learned so much more about the characters. One day, if you're a reader of the story, you'll learn about it, too. I promise.

I learned there was an Arc Five, when I'd barely thought about a fully realized Arc Four. I learned about the final chapter, about the final lines.

I cried that day.

Life is still hard; it's still stressful. But you know? The depression that would settle over me by this point in the semester hasn't come. I'm so much happier than I've been for a long time. Putting what gives me the most joy in life has been the best thing I've ever done.

Yes, there are still some hard days. Yes, some days, it's harder to write. But as I look back on every day, I am so happy that I still choose my writing and story first.

Until next month.

[etinceelle]

Now that I experienced it, I honestly think that the best way to enjoy something is to do it with only a bunch of people

Last year before RWBY V9 and while it aired I posted fanarts not really imagining that it could reach so much people. I did fanarts before during V8 too, during the hiatus as well, but I never got an audience that huge before

I'm not saying I regret anything of course because everything was super fine until summer. A lot of people started to like my work and it even got shared on other RWBY groups on platforms where I wasn't and when I think about it it's huge for me

It was all fine when it was me drawing something I enjoyed to share it with others who like it as well. I didn't notice how it changed in some way to become more like me drawing stuff for people to enjoy (don't get me wrong, I always loved drawing Nuts and Dolts for example, but having so much people following me for it made me thought without realizing it that I needed to draw them to make people happy no matter what).

And when today I look back at V9 and how I enjoyed it and other pieces of media before, I find myself thinking that I ended up not drawing for myself and I started to realize it with the Kofi requests last summer, but still continued.

I just thought about all this lately and taking some distance does help a lot. At the moment I know the situation on Twitter didn't help with that, but I don't feel like drawing RWBY stuff just because it comes and goes and I shouldn't force myself. And I know no one ever did or said anything about that, it's all me putting that pressure on myself because I never knew how to handle so much people following you and "expectations" in some way. I saw it when people called me "the NND CEO", "the NND artist ever", and I liked it with the hype and all but it definitely wasn't my goal and never has been (even if I know it's mostly a "title" because my main RWBY content is still Nuts and Dolts, and it did a lot of good on people apparently)

It's pretty strange how I never imagined just a single thing such as gaining an audience like that could change so much about the way you work, the way you see art, why do you draw etc. I had a "tiny" audience before, and I can't blame people for following me for one specific thing, but I wish they could also stop make assumptions and put on you the version of you they imagined, because that's also something that happened from people expecting me to be things I wasn't.

Anyway, I want to take a step back from all of this, go back to drawing stuff when I feel like it, I've been drawing my story a lot lately as well as some fanarts of SSO, Wakfu... And when I have more time with uni I'd like to go back to my online course to continue learning about concept art and digital painting. RWBY hype and motivation will come back when it's the time, and it won't be for anyone but myself

[icarusbetide]

why it's okay that hamilton the musical is terribly inaccurate

i'm feverish so none of this will make any sense, but i wanted to get it down somewhere before i lose all train of thought. a lot of hamilton the musical's discrepancies with the historical record make sense if you remind yourself that it's inherently meta. it's equally about our perception of these figures and their legacies than the figures themselves. not sure how much of that is deliberate - i would argue a fair amount, since the play is literally haunted by history. "history has its eyes on you", "history obliterates", "who lives who dies who tells your story". and that's going to bleed into their musical characterization and relationships. the musical exaggerates and caricatures them, and is self-aware of its tamperings. the way burr as a narrator expresses the same frustrations we feel, not being in the room where it happened. how it puts words into eliza's mouth and speculates that she burned the letters because of the reynolds pamphlet, and she wanted to keep it from us.

alexander hamilton was not jumpy, awkward, and incredibly abrasive in real life. he was all accounts charming, and apparently even aloof in certain situations. but his writing was aggressive, heavy-handed. we all know when that led to disaster. his written work aka his largest legacy informs the character we see.

same thing with burr. it's really funny because musical burr is so shy and quiet compared to his real-life counterpart who was charming, popular with the ladies, and very hilariously unhinged. but it makes sense. because when we think of burr, we think of a guy who doesn't believe in anything, who quietly slipped through the political parties, etc. and that's the personality he carries.

and that's why washington plays a different role in hamilton compared to washington in turn. we aren't supposed to get close to him, seeing his temper or his flaws. washington in the musical is always above everyone else, spectating. he's even in the background of "my shot", watching hamilton contemplatively before nodding and slipping away. obviously he wouldn't have been aware of hamilton during the new york pamphlet era; most likely he wasn't serving as a father figure during hamilton's wedding, fixing his collar. but historically, washington's quiet support did allow hamilton to move forward with his political goals - in the musical that bleeds into their personal relationship and physical staging. he's often looming over hamilton in some way. i'd even say that some people very convincely argue that in hamilton's perspective, washington is the most important person in the musical. he's the person hamilton is most often watching. and washington probably was the most important relationship hamilton cultivated.

probably the most egregious example would be jefferson, whose shy personality is not explored at all in the musical. but the cock-fighting, taunting, flamboyant jefferson next to hamilton on stage? that's their political, newspaper rivalry for sure. they have to be seen as equals, and in a musical format, that means jefferson needs to be hamilton's equal in rapping, fighting.

i mean, the entire plot follows the relationship of alexander and aaron burr over the years in a parallel doom situation. it's probably wildly inaccurate! burr wasn't hamilton's first friend, and though they did work together and were apparently on good terms for some time, i doubt burr lived his life obsessively following hamilton's career. but our understanding and speculation on their relationship is heavily influenced by their end - and so the musical versions of the characters seem pre-ordained to reach weehawken. burr has to be in hamilton's shadow, burr has to believe in hamilton's greatness more faithfully than any other character; their fates have to be tied together, because they are tied together in death. you'll never be able to separate alexander hamilton from aaron burr.

and musical burr knows that. he knows history obliterates, and the picture it will paint. hamilton's so much a play about how we try to rationalize/dig into these human people that we unfortunately will never really know. i still think there are flaws that weren't deliberate, but that's another story.

i'll probably elaborate/edit this later. it's already a shitton of run-on sentences lmaoo.

[serpentface]

As someone who watches a lot of insect husbandry videos who also enjoys imagining OCs based in other folks lore—- could an Archin colony be raised by/live along side another species? Or does the wider consciousness make it too hard to find Queen without some kinda Entourage Unit to be like ‘no we don’t wanna hang out with your unit’. Your world seems to have a p set timeline (or at least set in the sense it seems ur focusing on specific eras) but I can’t help but wonder what the future will be like for all these folks. I truly wish them the best. But they also feel very. Human (sophonts all grown in disapproval). So I could see them gettin into all kinds of trouble down the line as we do.

I haven't entirely thought about this notion before..

'Adoption'-esque events are unlikely because a colony of archin is entirely self-sustaining (it may form wider allyships but does not require external support to continue existing)

The closest thing would be a single unit of archin surviving the destruction of the rest of their colony + the queen. An archin colony can rebuild itself from virtually nothing so long as they have their queen (though any units who die in the meantime will not be reformed, this is a unique 'person' that will never truly exist again), but without their 'womb' they will slowly die. In most cases where units are severed from their queen, the unit will be absorbed into an allied colony, or possibly killed by a hostile one.

If an archin colony that has reached the mainland ends up in this situation, finding another colony to merge into its unlikely, so that's a circumstance where an adoption-esque event could occur. If they managed to establish mutual communication with a sophont individual, they could become attached and treat them as a surrogate for a colony.

The unit would look for a sense of purpose in working towards a shared goal of themselves and their individual colony surrogate, in this case likely placing their ally's priorities above their own (archin units have personalities and can be highly opinionated, but will usually defer to group consensus in their colony- if their 'colony' is them and one individual person, they would still conceptualize that person as a group majority- they are not psychologically equipped to truly understand being simultaneously individual and sapient). They would seem very needy, wanting to remain in near constant communication and contact. Their ally would be basically covered in ants.

This dynamic would be 'unhealthy' by the standards of both species. I'd compare it to a parrot forming a mate bond with its human owner, it's using a human as a surrogate for social needs that they cannot truly provide, and at best merely approximate.

Units are an emergent property of a shifting group of 50+ individual archin who are constantly being replenished by new births, so this partnership would not last long, and within a year or two all members of the unit will have died. They would also slowly grow less communicative as their numbers drop (the lower number of individuals would simplify the computational power of their collective 'brain') until it's just a dwindling handful non-sapient ants, still bonded to their non-ant ally by scent.

A much likelier and less sad variant would be a colony (or an individual unit still attached to a colony) bonding with an individual person as an ally. I HAVE thought of this sort of thing before and it definitely happens.

This isn't like an adoption, more just an allyship and friendship. The bond would likely form as one mutually beneficial towards shared goals. The unit/colony involved would see this as a partnership between equals, and would not automatically defer to their ally (and may be very argumentative), but would be quite 'fair' in distribution of resources, and predisposed towards compromise and teamwork, so long as they remain convinced you share mutual goals and good intentions.

I've been thinking that most positive relationships between archin migrants and human mainlanders have formed around agriculture. An archin colony settling on your land and working towards a shared harvest would be highly beneficial for both parties, so long as there has been very effective and comprehensive communication methods developed. The archin get a safe place to nest, defense from predation, and access to a stable resource, the humans get sapient, tiny people on their lands who can perform excellent and near-constant pest control, and identify diseased crops and other issues much more effectively than humans can. Even in the case of a large colony that could eat a lot of crops, they would not necessarily compete heavily for resources, and can use some types of agricultural waste material to farm their own food (mostly types of fungus).

[sapphire-weapon]

I'd also like to know your thoughts on the mind control part where Ashley actively fought Saddler and suprisingly managed not to kill Leon. For Leon not to be able to move a muscle except his face, that scene speaks so much about Ashley's strength and will. Literally, Leon owes his life to her as well - and twice, in the whole game (the other being removing the parasite) but like you said before, Ashley never kept score.

There's a subtle hint of "Ashley is mentally stronger than Leon" running through a lot of the game, and it's a shame that the game itself didn't do more with it. In RE4, she's a year younger than he was in RE2, and she ends up thriving by the end of her journey, whereas he ended up with thoughts of putting a gun to his head.

I think that that was really supposed to be the point conveyed in the "Keep this up, and I'll be out of a job" scene, but idk I feel like it didn't really go far enough. And the only reason I say that is because we know that Ashley disappears from the series after RE4, so RE4 itself is the only opportunity to explore that parallel.

Because, like. I think, in many ways, Ashley is a reflection of what Leon could have been if Ada had never come into his life. And while that might sound harsh, it's also... true? Ashley ends up as strong and confident as she does because she had Leon at her back, keeping her steady the whole time.

But in RE2, just as Leon himself was reaching that point, the rug got pulled out from under him and it all came crashing down once it came out that Ada had been lying to him and was, in many ways, no better than the people who'd caused this mess in the first place. It's really hard to overstate what that kind of deception and betrayal does to a person, and it was really refreshing to have RE4make actually show the fallout of that (whereas OG just kind of ignored it). RE4make Leon is cold and closed off and, for a significant chunk of the game (basically from the start all the way up to about the aftermath of the cabin sequence), he has complete tunnel vision and relies strictly on his training to get him through -- very likely because he has a hard time trusting his own judgment anymore. (Which is why I love that they added in Krauser saying 'You always had poor judgment' in the scene leading into his boss fight, where the goal is to get under Leon's skin as much as possible.)

Like. Leon didn't end up suicidal for no reason -- and he's the only one out of all of the Raccoon City survivors to turn out that way. Imagine how much more he would've flourished if Ada really had been FBI -- if that betrayal had never happened, and Leon had been able to walk out of Raccoon City feeling good about the role that he played there.

It would've been a completely different ballgame. He would've been a completely different character.

And yet, despite all of that, there's probably something to really be said about the fact that Leon still manages to inspire Ashley to move forward despite the fact that he, himself, has spent the last six years just running in place. It goes back to the whole "Ashley is Leon's legacy" thing that I've talked about before, but.

It just sucks that Ashley drops out of the story and there's no real follow-up to it.

[queen-of-meows]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

Thank you for this lovely ask ! I really needed it because I feel like I should promote my work more ^^.

5- Hell Frozen Rain

“Good afternoon. You know why you are here today ?” he asked to the Variant, but he was met with stubborn silence. “First of all, I want to remind you it's pefectly okay if you want to stop the session at anytime. You have seen several Analysts before and I know none of them has made any significant progress with you. But that's okay, I am a patient man. The goal of this session is to reconstitute the series of event that led you to your current situation and to help you to reintegrate a timeline that fits your need. Are you ready ? Where do you want to start ? Okay. Giving the particular nature of this case, the TVA doesn't have any footage that could be useful for this session. I hope you are aware this is not an interrogation, right ? Despite anything you might have convinced yourself of, you didn't do anything wrong. Nothing of what happened this night was your fault.” Mobius M Mobius had been the most professional Analyst his whole life, but something troubled him about this new case he had been asigned to. Why does he feel so much compassion for this Variant, and most important, what horrible, unspeakable thing happened to the woman named Sylvie Laufeydottir ?

I am not entirly satisfied with this on and I was thinking about rewriting it one day, but I think it's still worth mentioning it. It's a pretty short psychological thriller I wrote for Halloween a few years ago, based on my favourite Silent Hill game, Shattered Memories.

4- When she sings, she sings come home

Ghosts crave to go home. They live between the walls, in the interstices that separate one second to the next, in the limbo between sleep and wake. Home is forever out of reach to them, a when that can never become a there. Loki has spent a long time fighting against the TVA and Kang, and he'd like to finally return to Asgard, or whatever is left of it. He knows it won't be easy, but he wants to try anyway.

An undertermined time after the end of the series, Loki goes to New Asgard to visit Thor, but instead he finds Sif and the two of them catch up on the last decades.

Bittersweet reunion, past Sifki implied, mentions of Sylki and Thor/Sif.

3-Heart asks pleasure first

Ravonna was gone from the TVA, but the TVA had never really let Ravonna go. Only Mobius could understand. Using of patience and empathy, the former TVA analyst does his best to reach his oldest friend, and hopefully show her there is more to hope than there is to fear.

During a mission on Sakaar, Loki and Mobius ran into Ravonna Renslayer. They rescue (kidnap ?) her and take her to New Asgard. This story explore what happens during the following days. It's mostly long dialogues between Mobius and Ravonna about order, chaos and what we chose to fight for.

2- A warm bowl of soup

Mobius is going to leave the TVA for good to join Loki in New Asgard. In the Void, he asks Lady Loki to teach him how to make a good soup. But the reciepe of the butternut squash soup is not the only mystery he hopes to unveil.

This one-shot explores the relationship between Mobius and my beloved Lady Loki OC as she teaches him how to make butternut squash soup and opens up about her backstory.

1- The Little Bard's Tale

Dear reader (you are probably me in the future, so hi future me !), I found a blank journal and a pen today. I thought I might take them and write something. I don't really know what to write, or if I can write anything that will be worth reading one day. My name is Loki. For a long, long time I thought I'd never hear anyone call my name again, but I was wrong. I was very, very wrong, because there are a lot of other poeple called Loki in this place. And there's Sylvie who was also named Loki a long time ago. This story is not about the war raging on all across the Multiverse, or the brave heroes fighting for peace. In the Void, the war seems far away, but it doesn't mean we don't care. One day Mr Mobius came here with a lost girl named Rebecca. She is very important for the Council of Kangs and she's even more important for me. This is our story, as told by your favourite storyteller !

Okay, shameless promotion for the Little Bard's Tale because it's the story I have been focusing on in 2024 and it's probably the most personal thing I have written for a while. This is a story about finding joy and a purpose in life even when you don't exactly fit in.

The Little Bard has become like a companion in my daily adventures ☺️.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

I had a dream yesterday. And I've always had weird dreams. Creepy or bizzare or both. Though they've always told a narrative. They've always been long drawn out stories with dialogue and characters and a goal and a beginning and usually an end.

Yesterday I dreamt of walking down my street. It was dark and I was with an old friend. I knew in the dream they were an old friend, one I hadn't met since I was a teenager, maybe longer. But now, awake, I can't recall their face.

We were going somewhere to find something. In the dream I knew where we were going and what we hoped to recover. Now the details are murky.

I was apprehensive in the dream. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had tried this before, with more people, with more old friends, and that I had failed. And like a game resetting I had started at the beginning again. Except none of the others were given a second chance and I was here now with a new companion, walking back towards the same fate. My friend remained oblivious and happy. We were talking about the neighbourhoods and houses we were passing. I think I dismissed the flashing images of my 'first try' as deja vu or anxiety.

It was night when we started off from my street. No time passed, but it was bright and early a step away, on the next street. There was something safe about my small dark street with its one light, and I felt we had left that safety behind.

This new neighbourhood was idyllic. Sunny and green with little houses. But there were no people. I don't think there was any noise at all, aside from the two of us.

We passed a pair of cottages that were painted to look like little green frogs. They had one connected garden with a little fence and archways and garden seats painted to look like toadstools. I told my friend I'd like to live there. That when we got what we came for we should go see the cottages, invite others and have a lunch on the toadstools.

At the end of the street was a white wall and a large gate, behind it stood an old fashioned bungalow with a sprawling garden dotted by bushes. The bunglow's veranda wrapped all the way around it, all the doors leading to the inside of the house were open wide, and we could see a courtyard in the middle. There was antique furniture throughout the house, making it difficult to navigate through. But they made good hiding spots. We knew we needed to hide. That we weren't supposed to be there. That whatever we were taking, we'd be stealing. I think we got caught last time, my other old friends and I.

There was an older lady. A servant. I could see her from my hiding spot. She was talking to someone. I don't think I could make out what they were saying, can you hear noise in dreams? But I knew she was talking about us. Telling someone that we had come here.

I only ever saw who she was talking to through their reflection in the glass doors. Whoever it was she looked like my next-door neighbour who had passed away almost a year ago. The one who used to make little bouquets of this plant the cats liked, tied together with a red ribbon, and toss it into our garden for them to find. We never spoke much, but I miss her.

She looked exactly like her. Except her hands didn't make sense. They just kept going and going till they almost reached the ground. I didn't understand why at first. I had to keep staring at that reflection. I thought maybe something was wrong with it. That maybe it was distorted? It was her nails. It was her nails that were wrong. They were long and sharp and dirty and I knew I had felt them once, against my skin, against my flesh, tearing into me. Maybe it's just because it was a dream, but it's an odd feeling to know you had died once and you were going to die again, that even the extra steps you took to prevent it hadn't really changed anything. There was a strange disconnect to it.

We crept around the bungalow. It was really just one long circular corridor packed with furniture, with a courtyard in the middle. I think she knew we were there. I think she was hunting us. But whatever we came for it was more important than whatever fate had met my previous companions (Becoming a corpse? Becoming a meal?)

The more we stayed there, the more I just knew things. Like how that wasn't really my old neighbour. How whatever it was just looked like her. To appear safe and friendly and comforting, maybe, to me specifically. I knew why the whole neighbourhood was empty, of course. I knew what had happened to all the people. I knew why the houses were so well kept though, so welcoming, designed to draw people in.

We got what we came for. It was further than we had gotten last time. Or at least that's the impression I had. Then we ran. It, whatever it was, chased after us. We made it out of the gates and as we ran past the picturesque little houses, as we ran past the frog cottage I knew that one had been made just for me.

[kingofthering]

vr46 marc, 890 words taking place a handful of hours after this

"The fact that you were into men or the fact that you were into me?"

Marc snorts, shrugging his shoulders at Valentino's question. The second option implies the first. The first could have easily been converted into the second, if needs be. They both know it.

Valentino's focus is back on his task at hand when he says "I mean, I had an inkling before. Indianapolis sealed the deal, the months after that didn't exactly show signs of the opposite."

"You never said anything."

Marc's tone is not accusatory, not really. Valentino's face doesn't show any reaction to it. He's still kneading his pasta dough.

"I did not."

"Why?"

Valentino pauses, cleaning his hands on a hand towel before reaching for his glass of wine. Marc watches the way his throat works as he takes a couple of sips from the red liquid.

If Valentino says he wasn't into Marc back then, Marc might have to call him a liar just to avenge his bruised ego.

"It wouldn't have been my first time hooking up with another rider, another rival, and let's say it got messy in the past and I didn't want to go through that again."

Marc frowns, his mind immediately trying to figure out who it could have been, some options more disturbing than others. It's easier to go through that exercise than process the fact that Valentino theoretically wanted him.

"Well, I was older already back then, I probably could have protected myself, not get attached, all that. You were 20 years-old, Marc, I didn't want to mess you up."

So too young to not fall in love with Valentino and suffer the consequences of that but old enough to suffer through his mind games and the stupidest of accusations. Valentino's brain will never cease to amaze him.

Or Valentino stopped caring about his wellbeing the moment he had a Championship bike and Marc was too much of a threat for his goal.

It makes sense. Marc doesn't know if it's more painful knowing Valentino willingly gave up on a relationship he cared about rather than thinking he never cared in the first place. And yet, Marc knows he will always take the first option (means it wasn't all in his head, at least).

"You wanted me," Marc says after a while, because there is so much to unpack there but he needs to start somewhere.

Valentino chuckles. "Is that so hard to believe? Look who's fishing for compliments, now."

Marc shrugs, a smile on his lips as he reaches for the bottle of wine to refill his glass.

"You know what you looked like, face and body wise," Valentino indulges him. "You know what you were like on track. You know what you were like adrenaline filled in parc fermé and on podiums."

Marc feels hot, his cheeks heating up. He thinks about Laguna Seca and the corkscrew overtake he borrowed from Valentino a couple of years prior. He thinks about Barcelona, Valentino's hands around his throat and Marc's family watching them. He thinks about Assen, that last corner and how happy Valentino had been afterward.

And in the corner of his brain, that silly little question : Would you have followed me if I'd taken the first step?

"What about after?" is the question that Marc ends up voicing outloud. "Or did I disgust you too much to even consider hate sex?"

No longer caring about Marc's mental wellbeing was one thing but maybe Valentino didn't even want to touch him. Not that Marc ever thought about it before but now, Valentino strikes him as someone who would enjoy hate fucking you. It has to come with how intense he is about everything.

Marc couldn't for the sole reason that he needs to at least like the person he's intimate with. He doesn't need the romantic connection, he's had great friends with benefits situations and he can do one night stands if he had the time to learn about the other person just a bit.

To be vulnerable in front of someone who doesn't wish him well? A concept he can understand for others but not for him.

"Can't say I've never considered it. Especially after moments where you were infuriating, whether from how stupid you were with your words or how good you were on your bike," Valentino says, way too casual for the words pouring out of his mouth.

Again, realizing the effects Marc has had on Valentino in the past, by just being himself, is as empowering as it is frightening, in a way.

"But," Marc says, because the answer to his question is still missing.

Valentino shrugs. He has put their ball of pasta dough away in a salad bowl and covered it with a towel. He's swinging his wine around by moving his glass in small circles on the table, now. "Didn't feel right."

It's not "I knew you wouldn't be into it".

It's not "I wasn't into you anymore".

It's not "I'm the one that would have hurt himself then", either.

Marc needs free range to study Valentino's brain under a microscope.

[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

Santa Claus

Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Pairing: Constable Odo x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K Summary: Odo knows a lot of people however he never met a certain "Santa Claus". From what he knows, he might be a criminal

Not my gif !!!!

WINTER WRITING PLAN

Odo wasn't sure how exactly he had ended up in this situation, but at the moment he was sitting at a table in Quarks with the Chief, Doctor Bashir and Commander Worf. Actually, he had only intended to make his usual rounds through the establishment, but the Chief and Bashir had successfully talked him down to join them.

From the look on his face, Worf didn't seem to feel any different.

"So, Commander? How are you going to spend the holidays?"

O'Brien glanced over at the Klingon, who looked even a little grimmer than usual. "I'm going to visit my parents on Earth. So far I had been able to avoid that tradition, however, I'm afraid it didn't work out this time." Bashir and O'Brien grinned at each other before the latter took a sip from his tankard.

"But Worf, Christmas is a time for fellowship, family and love. You must be looking forward to seeing your parents again, right?" Bashir grinned at Worf and Odo could see the man's jaw working.

"I never said I wasn't looking forward to it. I merely think the traditions are ridiculous. Santa Claus, the presents. A fairy tale for children, nothing more."

"Don't say that too loud or Molly will hear you," O'Brien returned, sighing. "She's gone insane lately. That's all she talks about, and she's driving me and Keiko right crazy."

Bashir laughed. "So I guess you're going to stay here?" O'Brien nodded and raised his eyebrow. "And you?"

"Also. I promised Garak I'd teach him some traditions this year. He thinks it's absolutely ridiculous, but it's worth a try."

" How about you, Constable?"  Odo looked up at the question and turned towards the doctor.

"Are you going to celebrate the holidays?"

When Odo did not answer, Bashir suddenly blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry. You probably don't even know what exactly we are talking about, right?"

O'Brien chocked on his drink and started coughing. "Julian!"

"What?! Odo basically 'grew up' on Bajor. They do not celebrate Christmas here!"

Slowly the three men turned to look at Odo, who grew more uncomfortable with every passing second.

"Of course I know what Christams is. I don't live under a rock" he growled before standing up abruptly. "If you gentlemen would excuse me now? I have a job to do!"

~**~

They couldn't really help but twist their lips into a smile when they heard the familiar hiss of doors announcing the arrival of their partner.

They lifted their head from their book just in time to see the doors close behind the changeling.

"Hey," they smiled and reached out to him. "How was your day?"

Odo came over to them and took their hand in his as he settled down, however he seemed lost in thought. "The usual."

Already used to his short answers, they smiled. "Oh, yeah? Well, you were gone longer today for that. Did you have to fill out any reports that were left behind?"

He snorted lightly. "I don't leave anything undone. My work routine is efficient enough to avoid such things." Slightly he rolled his eyes, however they knew he wasn't serious. "When I did my last round in Quark's bar, I was stopped by Doctor Bashir and Chief O'Brien. I tried to talk my way out of it, but it seemed impossible after they convinced Commander Worf.

"Wow," they said, straightening up so they could turn their body to face him.

"Julian and Miles have accomplished what I had always wanted to accomplish with you."

"Talking to me? We do that a lot."

They laughed. "No. Taking you out for a drink at Quark's."

Odo wrinkled his nose, though they could see the corners of his mouth twitch in a desperate attempt not to give in to a smile.

"Perhaps you'll be reassured to hear that I haven't taken a sip myself."

"You hardly ever drink."

"Then you should begin to realise that your great goal will probably never be fulfilled."

A laugh escaped them and Odo felt deep satisfaction in having made his partner laugh. He leaned back as they turned their backs to lean against him.

For some time they sat side by side in silence. As they went back to their book, Odo was perfectly content to rest his chin on their head and close his eyes.

In his mind, however, a question floated around that he did not want to banish.

"Who is Santa?"

They were mid-sentence when he asked his question, however, they stopped abruptly when Odo's question reached their hearing.

"Huh?"

" Santa Claus." They felt Odo shifting back and forth uncomfortably beneath them.

"Chief O'Brien mentioned in our conversation that Molly would not be happy to hear Worf talk about Santa Claus being a ridiculous children's fairy tale."

They sat up straight so they could look him in the face. For a moment they regarded him and with each passing second they realised that it made Odo incredibly uncomfortable not to have that bit of information and their faces softened.

They knew how discomforting it could be for the changeling not to know certain information, especially when it was natural or taken for granted by everyone else.

But the fact that he had confided in them instead of asking the computer warmed their hearts.

"That's what Santa Claus is, technically. A child's fairy tale, a made-up fantasy figure who is the symbol of Christmas."

"But what is his purpose? His function?"

They put the book aside. Probably they wouldn't get very much reading done in the near future.

"I'm not too familiar with the history behind all of it. Its origins are in Europe, with a man, a saint called Nicholas. St Nicholas, parents told their children, judges children's behaviour over the year and depending on how well they have behaved, on one day , usually the sixth of December, he brings them rewards such as small gifts, sweets or fruit, or a rod with which to punish the 'bad' children."

Odo's eyes widened. "He hurts children?"

"No! No he doesn't," they laughed. "That's what they used to tell the children, and in the very early days the children might have really been beaten, but definitely not today. Today the kids mostly just get little presents and stuff, at least in the regions where they still celebrate." Odo nodded slowly, understanding.

"And Santa Claus..."

"Is the American and, unfortunately, more famous version of him, even outside of America. He's usually depicted as an old man with white hair and a white beard wearing a red coat, red trousers and a red pointed hat, flying around the world in his flying sleigh pulled by reindeer.

Depending on the region, parents tell their children that Santa Claus comes to the house on Christmas Eve or during the night and brings the children presents, which they are allowed to open either on Christmas Eve, the twenty-fourth of December, or the morning after. As a thank you they leave him a glass of milk and biscuits, at least in America.

In England, I think they leave a glass of sherry outside. He then eats and drinks these things in the house. The gifts are probably the reason he is so popular. Although they still say that he judges their behaviour, it is hardly relevant to the number of gifts.

If you walk around anywhere on Earth at Christmas time, you can see him virtually everywhere."

They looked over at Odo, who looked plainly horrified.

"So, just to be clear," he began, looking at them from wide-open eyes. "Parents tell their kids they're being judged and stalked all year by an old man who breaks into their house at the end of the year and leaves stuff there that no one knows what's in it, which is a big security issue by the way. Much more, the children have to make sacrifices to him, in the form of alcohol and the parents make them believe that he drinks this glass of alcohol in every house and then manoeuvres a flying sleigh?"

They frowned. "I never thought about it that way, but you could put it that way, yes."

Odo only looked more disturbed than before and rose to leave with slow steps. A laugh escaped them, so loud that they almost missed him shaking his head and saying "humans".

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@bigblissandlove1 @akamitrani

[captainsophiestark]

Go Bearcats

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023​! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Prompt: Hermes; Travel, boarders, games

Summary: The summer before Percy Jackson came to Camp Half Blood, Luke Castellan's SO convinced him to leave camp with them for a new life.

Word Count: 1,175

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I cannot believe you did that to me," I said, shaking my head in disgust with my boyfriend, Luke Castellan. He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed.

"I'm sorry. But it was the best way for me to win."

"Cheating isn't winning."

"Technically, choosing an object outside of the car that we left in the dust ten miles ago isn't cheating."

"You sound like Malcom," I huffed, crossing my arms and leaning back in my seat. Luke just chuckled, shooting me a grin from the driver's seat as we cruised along the highway. Luke and I had been in the car for almost three hours now, on the sixth day of our cross-country road trip from camp. For the first time in a very long time, we were leaving the place we'd called home and had never really been allowed to leave.

I'd gotten to Camp Half-Blood the year after Luke, although we were the same age, and with one exception that hadn't gone well, neither of us had left the camp's boarders since. Until now.

This past year, Luke and I had decided it was time for us to leave, to go do something with our lives now that we were both technically adults. Sitting day after day, month after month, within the boarders of Camp Half Blood wasn't sustainable for the rest of our lives, and I'd noticed it having a bad effect on Luke especially. So, we'd spent the last year preparing for and submitting applications to college, and by some miracle we'd both gotten into the same place. Annabeth, although she would only be starting sixth grade in the coming weeks, had helped us a lot, and about six days ago Luke and I had officially left camp with the end goal of Salem, Oregon in mind.

It hadn't been an easy road trip, especially since we couldn't use phones to help with navigation. But we'd managed alright. We were together, after all, and I swear with every mile we put between us and Camp Half-Blood Luke's spirits had lifted. Enough for him to tease me while cheating at I Spy.

"Alright, new game," I declared, sitting forward in my seat and looking at the scenery around us. "How about... twenty questions?"

"Sure," Luke said, still with a little laugh in his voice. As annoying as his cheating was, I couldn't ignore how happy I was to see him smiling so freely again.

"Alright... I've got something, go ahead."

Luke and I passed another hour that way, laughing as we thought up more and more ridiculous things to try to get the other to guess. After four years of knowing each other and dating for a year and a half of that, we knew each other well enough that truly stumping each other was basically impossible. After Luke successfully guessed that I was thinking of a bearcat, our new school's mascot (whatever the hell a bearcat was), he pointed up ahead of us instead of continuing the game.

"Look, we're officially crossing the boarder from Idaho to Oregon. Last one before we get to school."

"Home stretch," I said, smiling and reaching over the console in the middle of the car to take Luke's hand. "I'm glad we decided to do this."

"Me too."

A little glimpse of the storm clouds passed over his face, but unlike at camp, this time they cleared quickly. He shot me another smile as we drove over the state line and into Oregon. With more than two thousand miles in our rearview mirror, only about two hundred were left between us and the newest chapter in our lives.

"I hope Annabeth's going to be alright without us there," Luke said after moment's hesitation. We'd both been hesitant to completely leave her behind, but she'd assured us all summer that she wanted us to go.

"I'm sure she will be," I said. "Besides, we can Iris Message her all the time to keep in touch. It'll be like we never left."

"It's times like this that the no technology thing gets... frustrating."

"What?" I asked, feigning surprise and putting a hand to my heart to really sell the drama. "You're telling me you're not looking forward to taking only paper notes for college, and to figuring out how to turn in assignments without using a computer?"

"Believe it or not, no," said Luke with a little laugh. There was no question that the year ahead of us would be incredibly strange and full of challenges, but I knew we'd figure out a way through them, together. That's what all our training at camp had been for, after all. Although, the problem solving they'd been preparing us for had been a little more combat-based.

"Maybe Annabeth can come visit us for a break or something," I mused, kicking back in my seat and watching the trees fly past us on either side. I'd never been this far West before, and it looked incredibly different than anything I saw back home.

"Do you still want to visit camp over the winter break?" he asked. His voice was casual, but I thought I heard something else underneath his words, something a little more tense and brittle. "Go back for the Winter Solstice on Olympus?"

I paused, thinking my words over carefully and trying to gauge how Luke felt. Finally, tentatively, I responded.

"I don't know... If we're settled in here, and neither of us really wants to fly... I don't know if I'll want to leave our new lives after only four months being here."

Luke nodded, and I thought I saw his shoulders relax, just slightly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so too. We can decide later, of course, but... I think I want to stay here too."

I squeezed his hand lightly, and gave him a warm smile when he turned to look at me. He returned with a grin of his own, and after a moment of just enjoying the moment here, together, the two of us against the world, I leaned forward and cranked up the volume on the radio.

A little bit of luck must've followed us so far, because one of my absolute favorite songs was on, and I didn't hesitate to scream-sing the words at the top of my lungs. By the end of the day, Luke and I would be moving into a tiny apartment we'd found just on the edge of campus. In the morning, we'd gather materials and get ready to start our classes, and then the day after our new lives would begin. I had a feeling we probably wouldn't go back to our old lives, ever, even though Luke didn't seem to want to talk about permanently closing that door yet. But I didn't mind. The Olympians were overrated anyway, and I'd be happy to live like a normal college kid with the guy I loved, free from their influence and the problems they brought with them.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Percy Jackson Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[dailycass-cain]

It is time for my thoughts on Spirit World #4! Where I dive deep into the good, the bad, and all about Cass!

Now this felt "filler" for Cass in the issue as Xanthe takes back full attention to this issue (thankfully) as I was worried they were getting a little outshined by writer Alyssa Wong wanting to do SOMETHING with Cass pertaining to her death in Batgirl Vol. 1 #72.

That's not to say Cass doesn't do anything about this issue or gets further on her subplot. Wong throws us teases here and there.

CURIOUSLY, when are trio of protagonists are attacked in the opening of the issue Cass fends off whatever this demon attempts to do to her again.

Again, we're teased something occurred here that messed with Cass's memories. Now, part of me wonders with two more issues left how Wong will wrap this all up?

Or is this a tease for SOMETHING more by them?

More so with Shen's connection to Cass. Though not teased as much here. But given his exit (apparently) and reveal of his true form.

Man, this was a moment.

He's a god. You cannot simply stop him with the skills Cass has. Trickery and dealing are how to take with him. I'm still curious if he took Ghost Steph's form. Given well, they're both blonde and it feels like taking the form of humans feels like a god thing to do.

It's something I'm liking in that Wong is adding something to Cass, which she never had before in mystical characters. We barely had any in Batgirl Vol. 1. It was all science and street-based adventures.

The closest we got was at the end which Wong is mining here. Though I guess you could say #25 too, I'm curious why that moment isn't mined along with Wong's end goal here.

I mean could Wong be giving us another reason why Cass turned evil? Possibly BUUUUUUUUUT-- remember it was a year between the events of her dying and Robin OYL.

I just think Wong is going down a more mystical journey of Cass finding memories she lost honestly. Filling the gaps between her two deaths in Gabrych's run and explaining Ghost Steph.

Possibly... I guess we'll see.

I'm here for this amazing ride I'd never thought we'd EVER get.

But this is a deservingly Xanthe-focused issue and it needed to be. Seeing them more in action furthers their own character quirks and qualities.

Plus I do love that they mirror Cass poetically on how they wish to help and save people.

The sad thing is that Xanthe has been through A LOT in these last four issues. A gauntlet where well a human body cannot reach it limits. Xanthe reached their's saving Bowen.

I love the creepy creatures and body horror artist Haining has made throughout this series. Like all of it stuff that made me go 😱. I can't wait to see what he's got for us in creature design with these last two issues!

Not only that but he strikes a nice balance of horror, action, drama, and humorous ones. The best of the latter was this one with Johnny boy here with Cass.

And at the end where we get our cliffhanger. I'm guessing due to the earlier conflict in this issue is how it occurred. And hey it tied into the cover for this issue too!

Spirit World #4 continues what an AMAZING series with everything one can hope for. Spectacular plot. A new character in Xanthe Zhou. And oh yes, Cass, glorious good Cass stuff with some truly STUNNING art.

[kilfeur]

Voilà enfin fini mon nouveau comic Rayllum avec cette fois ci, un cauchemar de Rayla mais Callum est là pour veiller sur elle. A la base il y avait deux scènes que j'ai pas mit au final, la première est pendant la crise de panique de Rayla, Callum fait toujours le truc avec le pouls mais descend sa main vers sa coeur. Pour qu'elle puisse sentir ses battements puis l'allonger en lui demandant de se concentrer sur lui et sur sa voix. Au final j'ai opté pour autre chose qui on va dire plus réaliste même si je pourrais toujours placer ça ailleurs. La deuxi��me scène c'est qu'après la discussion du duo, Callum était censé jeter un coup d'oeil à l'arc de Rayla. Pensant aux dernières paroles de Claudia jusqu'à ce qu'il sente la main de Rayla et lui dise qu'il aime quand elle le touche s'en suit Rayla qui l'entoure dans ses bras pour se réchauffer. Je trouvais déjà que ça traînait en longueur et même si j'ai pu mettre le câlin, j'espère que je pourrais mettre la scène de l'arc sur un autre dessin ou bien un one shot par exemple.

At last I've finished my new Rayllum comic, this time featuring Rayla's nightmare, but Callum is there to watch over her. The first is during Rayla's panic attack. Callum still does the pulse thing, but lowers his hand to his heart. So she can feel his heartbeat, then lay her down and ask her to concentrate on him and his voice. In the end, I opted for something more realistic, even if I could always place it elsewhere. The second scene is that, after the duo's discussion, Callum was supposed to take a look at Rayla's bow. Thinking about Claudia's last words until he felt Rayla's hand and told her he liked it when she touched him, followed by Rayla wrapping her arms around him for warmth. I already felt it was dragging on and even though I was able to put in the hug, I hope I could put the bow scene in another drawing or a one-shot for example.

________________________

Page 1 and 2

Rayla : Where I am ?

Claudia : You're selfish, tell me why I don't have the right! All I want is to keep my father alive?! Everything I've done is for my family! To keep him with me! So why am I being robbed of what is rightfully mine?! So tell me you elf… Why should you be allowed to have yours back?

Rayla : Your father wanted to invade Xadia. He allowed a kingdom to be corrupted for his downfall. And you helped him, turning your back on your brother

Claudia : You know nothing! He did it for the good of mankind! Don't try to blame me for anything! When you've abandoned and hurt your loved ones. You came back like a flower, thinking you'd be welcomed. Nothing was going your way. You're no saint! So don't accuse me and see your own mistakes

Page 3

Viren : Tell me, elf, was my hunt really worth it?

Rayla : Ca... Callum. No... I beg you... Don't look at me. Outside, we'll be attacked! I've got to go! Otherwise we'll never reach the tower! Getting Nova's blade is the priority, we can't take a detour! I must protect you!

Page 4 and 5

Callum : Rayla, it's okay, you're not alone. You're here with me and Stella, remember. Can you feel my pulse and my touch? Rayla, relax. There you go, breathe just like me. Good again. We've eliminated the creatures that attacked us. And we've surveyed the area, haven't we?

Rayla : Yes, I remember.

Callum : That's good, Rayla, keep going.

Rayla : And the air dome you created at Umber Torr. You remade it for this cave.

Callum : See? Then breathe again. We're safe, you have nothing to fear. Do you want to talk about it ?

Claudia : You're selfish.

Rayla : Before that, I'd like to know… Why are you so intent on saving my family?

Callum : Eh… Well, why not? Recovering Nova's blade and saving them is like killing two birds with one stone!

Rayla : But...

Page 6

Callum : Rayla, in those two years, we created our own path. We've moved forward and sometimes lost our way, but we keep going. Because we want to achieve our goals. And we've done things for ourselves. Because we thought it was the right thing to do. But also for others, so that they can live in a better day. And finally, so that we can grieve properly. But you have the choice of reuniting with them. You shouldn't waste it when the opportunity is there. You could have continued your hunt. And yet you've come back to us.

Rayla : There are so many things I could have done better. So many things I haven't told you about my two years without you all. Even with Stella, I felt so alone. I was so cold and had nothing. I wish I could have stayed with all of you for those two years. I regret it but I'm here now and I want to stay by your side.

Callum : Rayla, you've always had a place with us. Even when you're reunited with them, that won't change. I promise!

Rayla : You always find the words to soothe me. They are magic! They make me feel able to face anything. You bewitched me and I've always been under your spell. So I can only love you more.

Rayla : I had a nightmare I thought I was going to die.

Callum : Really? And now you're thinking about it?

Rayla : Not so much now that you're here. Of course you do, Stella

[pochapal]

would you be able to briefly explain the meta stuff in the homestuck epilogues? i've never read any hs, but i'd be interested to know for myself how close you are in comparing it to umineko since you keep bringing it up.

caveat for mega massive homestuck epilogues spoilers (also caveat that this post got way too long) but basically my thinking on all this is as follows:

the whole of the homestuck epilogues are "meta" but to track it through the plot, a bunch of characters in the homestuck epilogues begin to undergo a process they refer to as "reaching the ultimate self" (debatable) which the text itself defines as an individual growing aware of the existence of their various alternate selves across timelines/canons. since the epilogues/homestuck^2 continuity died before we got any concrete answers a lot of this is more interpretation than fact, but essentially this leads to a kind of existence where your consciousness is placed on a level "above" that of your canonical reality, allowing you to see it as the story it is.

within the context of the homestuck epilogues this happens to two people that we know of, with a suspected third. the opening acts of the story cover rose lalonde's ascendancy to this state, which manifests as a series of visions of alternative realities and a growing awareness of what is/isn't canonical to homestuck (one other major feature of the homestuck epilogues in particular is that the characters and world are now at least one degree separated from canon itself - there's a lot of stuff in here about fanfic presentation/ooc tropes and the like). throughout the half of the story where they stay moored to canon (known as "meat"), rose's condition worsens as she turns to dirk strider for solace. about a third of the way through this epilogue the two have an extended conversation about textuality and puppetry and your place as a passive/active agent in the narrative fabric which ends with this bombshell cliffhanger:

the reveal here is that, at least for the duration of the epilogues' narrative, dirk strider has been in the driver's seat of the story and has been manipulating/nudging things according to his overarching goal of keeping the story "relevant" even though homestuck's main narrative ended years ago (homestuck itself features a great number of villains hijacking/rewriting homestuck at various points for their own ends so this is not without precedent) (this is also most likely an intertextual shoutout/callback to seminal fanfiction detective pony, which shares basically all of the dna of the epilogues in a truncated form done years earlier as an extended response to a short-lived bit in homestuck itself) (if you also look closely there are shade's of 999's "he knew because i knew" present too) (there are many layers to this).

in order to do all this, dirk has seized a great degree of control of the narrative engine driving the epilogues' reality. he is able to dominate how we perceive things by literally painting over the story in his own text color and voice and is able to put thoughts in people's heads and words in their own mouths - that said, there is a limitation to this ability, where even though dirk-as-narrator could do whatever he wants, in order for any of this to Matter everything he makes everyone do must always be believably within character for them to do, even if it lies at the more extreme end of their characterization (see a later chapter in the epilogues where there's an emotionally charged breakup/confession between himself and jake english with whom he has a storied and volatile romantic history with - dirk wants jake to do things one way, but jake himself thinks/feels in another and thus this tension underpins the scene).

throughout the plot, dirk brute force narrates certain events, manipulating characters and outcomes in his favor (he ensures john egbert, who has the ability to alter canon irrespective of the rules of the text, is killed off and unable to interfere. dirk also rigs an election for a whole other slew of reasons that are tangentially relevant). his driving motive, despite the overt villainous posturing, is a deep love for his friends and a deep fear that all face a fate worse than oblivion without an active and engaging story to inhabit. if that destroys the happy ending of homestuck, then so be it.

meanwhile, in the other half of the story (titled "candy"), these machinations do not go unnoticed. calliope, or to be more specific the version of calliope who ascended to godhood and then ghosthood and defeated the main villain of homestuck by absorbing him and all of his metanarrative poisoning into a literal black hole that is also a metaphorical stand-in for "fanon", grows aware that in one world there is one person who is disrupting the narrative peace of postcanon for his own selfish ends, thereby threatening to permanently rupture the eternal harmony such a state of being should have entitled their entire reality to. this itself is a bare-faced lie as candy goes to painstaking lengths to show the terrible consequences that come from the characters abandoning canon and complacently accepting their lot in a world that "doesn't matter" - this includes greatest hits such as "everyone gets married and has kids young, then epic divorces each other, then descends into a series of increasingly absurd and abusive relationships, and oh whoops somebody did a fascism and now there's a planetwide war being fought".

so. while the world of candy is falling to shit, calliope is behind the scenes working things to try and break out of her self-imposed impassible black hole in order to return to canon and put a stop to dirk's antics. it is heavily implied that she's been tipping the narrative scales in order to escalate things in the candy timeline to the point of chaotic absurdity in order to make it the most relevant point in fanon and thus a beacon for lord english's body to end up (there are many other dubious factors at play here, such as an incessant need to keep everything under her aegis for their own good and a drive to transform everything into a fanfiction-esque """utopia"""). the plan is to use the remnants of english/canon to break free of fanon and confront dirk somewhere beyond canon (this is where the story's chronology ends so we never got a concrete answer to what that'll look like).

one key thing here is that unlike dirk who saw fit to paint the town orange in his narrative dominion, calliope controls candy with a much more subtle touch, preferring to fall so far back into the narrative that it's almost impossible to say whether these absurd things everyone is doing is something they would have done on their own terms or something calliope is making them do (not helped of course by the fact that candy is dominated by well-known fandom tropes that help to distort the reader's perspective on what these characters "should" be like). this is by design - a lot of her philosophy is that the most effective story is one in which the speaker is as unseen as possible although one can never have a story without a speaker, nor a speaker without an agenda. see the following (NOTE: if you're looking at this sans context, calliope in this chapter is possessing the body of jade harley in order to use her as a conduit/vessel so that she can be physically present on this plane of reality, hence the dialogue tag. aradia is just aradia):

so. dirk seizes control of meat through a brute-force attack where you can only notice his narrative imprint and nothing else, and calliope dominates the narrative through an all-encompassing subtlety where it's impossible to tell where the story ends and calliope begins. a hostile first person narrative versus a hostile third-person omniscient narrative.

this culminates in a back-and-forth between the two where both try to assert their contradictory version of events as the "true" narrative, engaging in a yes-and squabble as they build upon and refute what the other is saying in order to come out on top.

there's a lot of questions of narrative "truth" here, of which version of events gets to be assigned "real" and how that assignment happens. is it the most logically compelling story? or the most emotionally resonant one? this is further explored in a subplot with character roxy lalonde, who undergoes two separate trans character arcs in each timeline with different outcomes (in meat a 23-year-old roxy embraces his identity as transmasculine, and in candy a 39-year-old roxy reflects on how her relationship to motherhood and her relationship to gender do not cancel one another out). but basically the crux of the homestuck epilogues is who gets to be the one to tell a story, and why? and what happens when irreconcilable accounts fight each other for the position of the One True Narrative Version Of Events?

the epilogues give a lot of questions on this front with very few answers (the only real answer is "read everything in its entirety and try your hardest to truly understand what is being told to you, and then you as a reader have the responsibility to decide and construct the final meaning for yourself") which i suppose is par for the course for a text of this nature.

(for further reading/consideration on this post-canon dilemma, also check out godfeels and the 3.1 epilogue which wrestles with these same concepts on an adjacent axis - particularly good stuff about the role of reader response and audience interpretation in here!)

(for even further reading/a way sillier plug also check out my own fic omelette route which is my personal thematic extension and understanding of everything the epilogues left behind and also a whole bunch of other things too long to get into in a brief self-promo lmao)

to bring this waaaaaay back to my umineko discussion points, this dirk/calliope/narrative thing is essentially the baseline with which i am examining umineko's narrative quirks. i don't necessarily think there'll be any 1:1 correlation with this specific brand of narration nonsense but i think this is a useful framework in general for thinking about stories about stories and how people intersect with their own narratives.

for umineko in particular i'm interested in the "course-correction" part of the epilogues and how the narrators show their hands most when things risk not going their way (see the third screenshot for the best example). i don't think anything'll be this over but what is "his finger tenses up and the gun doesn't fire" if not a more extreme version of "this mystery wasn't worth thinking about any more, so everybody left the crime scene as it was"?

if there's no "free will" in a story, then it ceases to be a compelling story at all. this rings true even outside of crazy metafiction stuff. if there isn't any evidence of the actors in the script, well, *acting*, then what's the point of telling your story as a story? there has to be that element of unpredictability and uncertainty to prove the thing you're constructing is alive and matters, even if that runs the risk of throwing your own plans off the rails (another way to frame all this the metaphor of the plot "getting away" from the author in the process of writing).

the narrator in umineko may not appreciate the way that battler is constantly threatening to undermine their carefully-plotted mystery narrative, but if battler just danced to their tune all the time then this isn't a story or a mystery but instead a one-person puppetshow using "real" human beings as the marionettes. a compliant battler ceases to be battler but instead a narrator using battler to sate their own whims, a story without an audience, etc etc etc.

but that balancing act is hard. you need to tell your story and you need the people in your story to act in all the right ways without accidentally transforming you narrative efforts into yet another meaningless diatribe. it needs to be meaningful. it needs to be more than navel-gazing for its own sake.

even outside of the meta stuff you see this with the culprits of the in-universe Witch Narrative. genji/kinzo et al could very easily brute force the family at gunpoint to play along with the story of beatrice and the supernatural, but threat alone isn't enough to grant something "existence". the deeper truths will remain buried without that organic spark of belief, without that chance for the other characters to contribute in their own way to the collective narrative. it's important that eva as a collaborator still makes everything about her steadfast belief that natsuhi's complicit in a coverup conspiracy instead of just robotically affirming "this is demonic beatrice is real and definitely exists". eva and natsuhi don't need to be at each other's throats to create the illusion of a witch killing people, but them being able to do so in proximity of the witch narrative validates the truths of their beliefs and the "truth" of beatrice's existence. it makes it more real to the other family members and to us.

this is very much the same dilemma as the homestuck epilogues. you as a narrator have an agenda, but you also need the people around you to augment that in a convincing and compelling way. you are not just seeking out a truth, you are telling a story. the homestuck epilogues are a story. umineko is a story. a story requires a narrator, characters, and an audience that cares about what is being presented to them. i've brought it up before, but in this way meat/candy and detective/romantic as dichotomies serve very similar purposes when it comes to narrative-building philosophy. you have to approach this dialectically if you are to produce something with any value.

so, in summary: the homestuck epilogues are driven by the tension inherent to filtering "reality" through a narrative lens and how to reconcile the unpredictability of real people with drive to have your message be heard. umineko, as a mystery presented through self-conscious narrative construction, can be understood through similar terms even if the two texts aren't necessarily directly related in this manner. there is a tension of control and truth when it comes to telling a story of your own, and on many levels both stories are about finding a way to reconcile this tension within their respective storytelling "languages".

meaning cannot be found in isolation. a story needs more than one moving part. juggling things beyond your control is simultaneously the most impossible and necessary thing you need to do in order to build a narrative that matters, be it piloting your reality back into canonicity or infusing an island with the legend of an ancient and powerful witch. it's all the same thing in the end.