#Not as many as last year but still a good handful - hopefully that means I've gotten better at parsing things out during the year!

[huramuna]

wine red, tears gold - chapter 7, end.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

previous chapter | next

this is the end! i know i said 2 more chapters after the last, but i really couldn't stretch this into two without losing -- it is hopefully a good ending and does justice for both lyanna and aegon. only one song choice for this chapter as i feel like it encapsulates their relationship to a tee and i've been waiting to use it. even if it isn't you type of music, i'd really recommend reading the lyrics to see what i mean! thank you for following along on this journey with me, this was my first time writing aegon and again, i hope i've done him justice. i enjoyed exploring his complex character immensely and i hope you all enjoyed reading him. enjoy. ❤️ please feel free to leave any aegon requests in my inbox, this won't be the last time i write him, i promise!

word count: 2.7k

please follow & turn on notifs for @huramuna-fics for my fic postings.

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn, infidelity, child loss

one day the only butterflies left will be in your chest as you march towards your death - bring me the horizon & amy lee

warnings: p in v

There were few things Lyanna really preferred about King’s Landing over Storm’s End– it smelled of shit and was riddled with vipers, whereas Storm’s End was full of boarish, thick skulled men with blades in place of their brains, less akin to use diplomacy to settle matters but rather their axes. 

King’s Landing diplomacy was the same in a way, except without axes and with barbed tongues, dripping venom behind each carefully placed word. It was a task in itself to keep sane with the amount of people who tried to get something from her– kissing her hands, sending her beautiful dresses, exotic fruits and honeyed words. 

‘Sign this, your grace.’

‘May I possibly have this, your grace.’

‘In exchange, your grace, please, provide us this.’

It was tiring. Soul suckingly so. Some days she felt akin to a lemon with its juices sucked out, nothing left but the skin and seeds and pulp, rotting in the sun. But, she supposed, there was one thing she did like about King’s Landing. 

The sun.

It was resplendent here, unyielding in its warmth and caress over the gentle waves of the bay, orange and yellow tinge lighting up the horizon. She awoke in the morn, scantily clad, walking to her open balcony– but not quite walking out onto the landing– and basking in the sun like a fat cat, moving with the sun as it made its journey over the sky. 

Sometimes Aegon was there, too, following along at her heels like a lost puppy. It was the norm nowadays, over eleven moons since her miscarriage, since Aegon’s confession, since his will to turn over a new leaf. Where Lyanna went, Aegon followed. She held him like a child each night, and they would curl into one another– but they had yet to couple since the miscarriage, both of them maintaining a dry spell for the better part of a year.

 It was a test, in a way, for Aegon. He had denounced spirits and whores and all manner of sinful things, hardly gracing his own chambers anymore, preferring Lyanna’s. But, Aegon was a creature of habit, and always needed something to have, to obsess over as his own. Lyanna was part of that thing, but she kept him at an arm’s length emotionally, partaking in only the need for closeness with him in their bed, skin to skin– but never anything beyond it. Soft caresses, arms held together, one tucked into the other. They didn’t exchange many words during these times, only gentle sighs and hums of contentment, or nudges of discomfort if one’s elbow was poking into the other’s ribs. 

The other thing Aegon had succumbed to was food– he replaced his daily intake of alcohol with food, and filled out quite nicely in turn. Before, he’d been a scrawny thing, the bulk of his daily caloric intake being just alcohol, and the calories burned off in succession with his rigorous trips to the brothel. But now, he ate three meals, each of them with Lyanna, except for breakfast. Breakfast was still reserved only for Alicent, Lyanna and Jaehaera– Aegon would eat in solitude quickly and wait outside of Alicent’s solar, waiting for Lyanna. Where he had shown ribs before, he had gained some mass, filling in his clothes. 

Lyanna quite liked him this way, soft and plush– he was nice to lay upon. 

She knew that he still had needs, as a man, and the time he’d gone without a woman, only using his own fist for pleasure, was certainly long. She was proud of him, in a way, that he overcame his baser instincts to try and better himself. 

But, she felt guilty as well. He would try to make advances, of course, a gentle touch to her bare thigh, a kiss to her neck, an accidental brush to her nipple– all ways that were increasingly enticing for her. She just wasn’t ready, and she made him know that and respect it. 

This usually ended in him sulking to the privy with his tail between his legs, more likely than not to take himself in his fist. 

And so it was, for those months. But a whole year passed since Aeron’s passing– the winds were changing.

–

“The council meeting is adjourned, unless anyone has anything to say otherwise.” Lyanna spoke, adjusting her rings absentmindedly.

Otto Hightower spoke up, clearing his throat. His hair had gone gray in the year’s time, and he was getting on in age– the war in previous years had taken its toll on every surviving member of the family in their own ways, and Otto had been the most adept at hiding it, until it became too much to hide. The previous week, he had been walking the corridors at an ungodly hour, looking for Helaena. His mind was turning against him. “The matter… of succession, your grace. The king should name his heir sooner than later, little Jaehaerys is nearing ten years of age, and is unbetrothed. Mayhaps… we should propose a betrothal to Rhaenyra’s daughter, Visenya.”

The council looked at Otto, their eyes wide. No one breathed, nor said a word; they didn’t know how to deal with such a thing, as Otto was usually the one who dealt with it– his mind, once as sharp as a whip, was now a dulled leather belt. 

Lyanna glanced at Aegon nervously, who sat up in his chair at the mention of Jaehaerys. “Grandsire,” he began, “That is… a splendid idea. I shall send a raven on the morrow to Rhaenyra upon Dragonstone.” 

Otto, in his addled wits, had become fond of Aegon. The old man smiled, nodding. “Good, my boy. Very good. I have no more contestment– I do believe it’s high noon, Aemond and Ser Cole will be in the training yard, so I must depart.”

Lyanna frowned, watching as Otto left. In a way, she felt him losing his mind was a fitting punishment for his culpability in the war. And yet, it pained her to see him so… lost. Like a kite with no strings, floating upon the breeze until it inevitably hits the ground. 

As Otto left, one of the other lords spoke up. “The Hand… does bring a good point, your grace. The matter of succession is still undecided. The… tragedy of the first babe leaves the realm waiting.” 

Lyanna opened her mouth to speak, but Aegon cut her off, leaning forward in his chair. His hair had grown much longer now, past his shoulders in white curls, moving with him as he steepled his hands on the table. “The first babe has a name, Lord Wylde. Aeron, is his name, and you shall address my son as such when speaking of him,” he snapped. “The queen is still recovering from the traumatic ordeal of his birth, and we shall give her the time that she needs. Anyone who speaks a word more of succession shall lose their tongue. My patience for this council’s schemes has ran out. Consider this the only warning.” Aegon pushed off from his chair, snatching his Sunfyre colored ball and stashing it in his pocket. “Council dismissed.” 

Lyanna watched as the lords rushed out of the room hurriedly, each one bowing their head in subservience to the King and Queen. Soon enough, it was just the two of them left. She didn’t speak a word, watching as Aegon paced, his hand twitching. He glanced at Lyanna a few times before walking to her and pulling out her chair. “My lady,” he muttered, his voice somewhat faraway. 

She straightened out her dress, standing up. “Thank you,” she responded, looking up at him. His face was much clearer now, not addled by dark circles under his eyes, nor the constant blush of intoxication. But his eyes themselves were still tired, still haunted. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, reaching out her hand to grasp his. “For dispatching Lord Wylde.” 

Aegon huffed, squeezing his wife’s hand. “I wish they would give it up– as if this whole situation wasn’t the cause of the war in the first place. Blind fucking idiots,” he grumbled, a calloused thumb wafting over her palm. In lieu of going to the brothels, he often would take out Sunfyre for flights, sometimes up to three or four times a day, his hands calloused and blistered from climbing up and down the saddle. 

Lyanna inspected his hand, delicate finger tracing over the blisters– some fresh. “You must wear gloves, Aegon,” she chastised softly, “Your hands have become so rough.” 

“I don’t like gloves, you know that,” he snorted. “They ruin the experience, can’t reach out and touch my boy’s scales, really feel them, with gloves on, now can I?”

Rolling her eyes, she dropped Aegon’s hand from her own. “I suppose not,” she contended, leaning back against the council table. She looked him up and down, her heart still feeling a bit tender from how gallantly he came to Aeron’s defense. The sun shined from the open balcony windows, illuminating his longer curls, and the rubies upon the Conqueror’s crown. His figure was solid, casting a shadow that could only be described as kingly. Lyanna blinked profusely, feeling a long locked away sensation bubble in her stomach, a heat coming to her face. 

“What?” he asked, staring right at her. He had become so attuned to her, as they practically were fused to the hip at every waking moment.

“N-nothing,” she murmured, looking away. If he looked into her eyes, he would see exactly what she was feeling. Desire.

He stepped forward, a hand under her chin as he tipped her head up to face him. Their gazes locked and it only took a moment for him to flash her that dazzling, aggravating, lovely smile. “Do you like my hands soft?”

“... yes.”

His calloused palm rested completely under her jaw now, thumb and forefinger encapsulating her as he tried to eke out the secret she was hiding. “Why is that?”

“Aegon– don’t tease me.” she mumbled, eyes darting everywhere but upon his face. 

“I’m not teasing, merely asking,” he got closer, the smug aura bleeding off of him like a sickly perfume. “Why so bashful, my queen?”

She felt her heart in her throat at their close proximity. They were close at night, even closer than this, but the energy charged around them was… different. It was something that they hadn’t experienced in a long time. Her mind went to how rough their last time had been together, how he fucked her like he hated her, like he hated himself– she didn’t want that now. She wanted… something different. She had to take control now and reel him in, if this was truly going to happen. “You’re teasing,” Lyanna hummed, the mood shifting as she leaned forward, grasping him by the collar of his doublet and pulling him to her. Her knee rested upon his clothed crotch in a testing manner. “Or, am I?”

His entire demeanor changed then, his hand falling from her jaw to rest on her arm. His hunched shoulders slumped as he pressed into her knee, his arousal becoming quite clear. “Y-you are,” he whispered, “my queen.” Aegon’s lip pouted slightly. 

Pulling him downward then, their lips met for the first time in almost a year. It wasn’t aggressive or dominant like before– it was slow and meticulous, as if they were getting used to one another again. He tasted like orange, which he had been snacking on before the meeting. She tasted like lavender tea… it was all so familiar, yet distant. Lyanna’s idea of control slowly faded as they both surrendered to one another, tongues tasting and dancing as if they had all of the time in the world. They were both at each other’s mercy, both gentle as they undressed each other– as much as they could in the council room, anyhow. Lyanna unbuckled his trousers, sliding them down and grabbing a handful of his bottom, which was fleshy and pert now. His hands pulled down her bodice and squeezed at her breasts softly, rolling a nipple between his middle and forefinger. 

It didn’t take much time for Aegon to ruck up her skirts and sink himself into her, slowly. Their mouths parted, still ghosting over one another as they drank in moans and whimpers as he bottomed out. It was still a tight squeeze and a wonderfully intense stretch. They didn’t need to speak, they didn’t want to– both were enjoying one another’s noises; Aegon’s heavy panting, coupled with Lyanna’s breathy moans into his ear. 

They found solace and comfort, truly, for the first time in their marriage. It wasn’t fucking out of duty, nor jealousy, nor hatred. It was… love. It was because they wanted to, because they both wanted one another. 

Because they both loved each other. 

They’d never said it before, but the inkling of it had begun a few months before. Lyanna’s heart clenched as she stared into Aegon’s eyes, wide and violet, so full of devotion as he thrusted into her. It was on the precipice of both of their tongues– something that would change everything. 

“I love you,” Lyanna whispered.

“I love you,” Aegon responded.

It wasn’t a perfect relationship by any means, and was difficult at best. They could never fix each other’s scars, never mend the broken, never resurrect the dead– but, in that moment, as they truly made love for the first time, it became more bearable. 

Isn’t that all that anyone could ask for?

–

Another two years in Westeros passed. The sun was still shining brightly over the horizon, pouring through the glass windows atop the throne room. Hundreds were gathered in the masses from all over the continent. 

Otto had stepped down as Hand and taken a backseat to politics– he wasn’t in the present at all any longer, muttering of the past and beyond, and stayed near his daughter in a wheeled chair, blanket over his legs. 

Alicent had trimmed her hair short and stopped wearing green, rather, matching Lyanna’s choices of gold and white.

Jaehaera stood next to her father, dressed in blue and white, like her mother always wore. 

Aegon didn’t sit on the throne, but stood in front of it, hand on the small of Lyanna’s back. 

Lyanna pressed close to Aegon and Jaehaera, holding a babbling one year old upon her hip with one arm. A son– named Rhaenor, who had a head of white curls, and deep brown eyes. Her other hand was caressed on her stomach, which was swollen once again with child.

“I’d like to thank you all for gathering here today,” Aegon started, his voice booming through the throne room, silencing any chatter. “There has been some speculation on when the queen and I would formally name our heir. I won’t keep the realm waiting any longer. I, Aegon of House Targaryen, second of my name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm– formally name my heir,” he paused for a moment, ever basking in the moment. “Jaehaera Targaryen will succeed me as the ruler of the realm.”

There were whispers in the crowd but they were once again silenced. “We shall not repeat the errors of the past. My word and decree now is just and binding, not to be rescinded. My son, Rhaenor, will not succeed me, nor any other sons or children of mine. Jaehaera Targaryen is my heir.”

–

Jaehaera Targaryen succeeded Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, after he abdicated the crown at age sixty-two, focusing on helping dragons make a return after the near decimation of them from the Dance. He, with the help of his son Rhaenor, hatched five dragon eggs upon the Dragonmount, saving them from near extinction.

Aegon passed in his sleep at age eighty-five, surrounded by his five children and dozen grandchildren, as well as his fiercely loyal wife, Lyanna. 

Lyanna passed one moon after Aegon. 

Her dreams became real– she was young again, toes dipped in the pond with Aeron next to her, and Aegon next to him.

A few more figures approached from the darkness near the edges of the pond, white haired and violet eyed. 

[lambhouse]

art block & burnout (and how i deal with it)

so i've been kind of Going Thru It lately, but then again who hasn't? life's kind of been an ongoing shitslide these past few years. and i can't say it's only now starting to catch up to me, because that would be a bald faced lie, but i think i've finally reached the point where i realize that for real, no cap, or whatever the kids say these days, change starts with me.

what does that mean, you ask? and what does it have to do with burnout and drawing?

well, i've been at my lowest for two years and counting now. i've had bouts of creativity and whole entire weeks of being productive and drawing like a machine and just generally being high on life, but those were just spikes of activity on an otherwise flat line. and i've been flatlining for months now. i know i'm due for a high at some point (it's how these things go), but this time i decided to get ahead of it and start building up some good habits so that when the next low hits, it won't be as hard.

this, at its core, isn't anything new or revolutionary and i can't say the tips/advice i have are universally applicable, but they will hopefully give you an idea of where to start, or at least give you a different perspective on how to go about applying any of the general art advice you see out there.

so without further ado, here is how i did this:

i started a new sketchbook last month. that, in and of itself, isn't a big deal; the big deal is that i kept up with it for a month straight. tomorrow is the actual 1-month anniversary (lol) of my daily drawing habit.

that's not particularly impressive either, not even for me. i've had periods where i drew regularly -- not 7 days a week regularly, but 3-4 days in a row every week and i kept that going for weeks. but i wasn't going through burnout at the time, and that's what makes this such an important milestone for me.

how i started:

it was rough, lol. looking back at this now i can see it's not a terrible first drawing but i remember how fucking stressed i was the entire time. my hands were shaking, i kept erasing and redrawing, i added color thinking it would make it look better, i even tried drawing from reference (the DRDs and the very faint flower in the corner) but i didn't have enough patience to really look at my references. overall it was a miserable experience.

but something good did come out of it, because i realized two things:

i was too mentally drained to draw from imagination, and

drawing in pencil hindered me more than it helped

now, drawing from imagination was what i always wanted to do and i could do it well enough and consistently enough when i was feeling good. but the whole reason i decided to build a habit like this was so i wouldn't have to depend on the whims of my brain chemistry anymore.

so drawing from reference it was. good thing i already had a pinterest board full of portrait references. i added about a hundred more to it that first night, just to have more variety, and that was enough to get me excited for the next drawing session.

now, the pencil thing. that's a bit tricky to explain and i can't promise it'll work for you as well as it did for me, but i think it's worth a shot.

the way it works for me is, the pencil is too easy a tool to use. even if you make a mistake, you've got an eraser and a million do-overs (or as many as your paper holds up to). so if i draw and erase and redraw the same line over and over again, at some point that starts to mean that there's something wrong with me, that i'm a shit artist, and what's the fucking point of doing it if i've basically got all the training wheels i need and i still can't draw this fucking eye right, or the mouth still looks weird, or the face is wonky. if the paper's good and the pencil lead is good quality and the eraser does its job well and still the drawing looks like shit, well, who's to blame for that? me.

i knew from the start that this was where i was headed if i decided to draw in pencil. even the very first sketches i did were in colored pencil, which is a step up in difficulty from regular graphite (they can be erased, but not completely). but obviously that didn't work as i had hoped, so more drastic measures were required.

so i decided to just rawdog it. i ditched the pencils entirely and took my tombow pens out of retirement. i only had five and two of them were different shades of pink, so not a lot of room to play with colors-as-values, but i made do. the three figures that look like they were drawn in pencil were actually drawn with the grey pen.

now this may seem counterintuitive. if erasing and redrawing stresses me out so much, how does drawing directly in pen make it better? isn't that just more stress?

yes and no, but mostly no. the way i rationalized it is, i can't make a perfect pen drawing even at my absolute best. there's just no way. but i can eventually arrive at a perfect pencil drawing, through a lot of trial and error and frustration, so why not take all of that out of the equation? frustration never helped me get better, it was just a creative sinkhole. so why not get rid of it? turn the possibility of failure into a certainty and work with or around that new certainty.

cut out the middleman, so to speak.

and it fucking worked.

-- for full disclosure, i've drawn in pen before. i started on a whim a few years ago and found it pretty liberating, so i kept doing it.

these are some of the first sketches i did in pen. they're pretty good, but as you can see from the date at the bottom, these were from before the Great Calamity of 2020 happened and everything went to shit. --

back to the thing.

so drawing in pen worked wonders to loosen me up and keep me going with the challenge -- or the building of a new habit. it certainly helped that i was also drawing portraits from reference and didn't have to think about poses, or features, or expressions -- they were all already there for me to draw.

not having to think about any of that also meant i had more energy to put into other things, like shading and coloring and how to simplify and stylize complex forms.

(i also got some poscas and four new watercolor makers. they weren't necessary for the process, but they were a nice treat.)

so i kept drawing. two days turned into three, into five, until i had a full week of daily drawings under my belt.

i hit a snag on day 8. (no pictures because (1) its fucking embarrassing, and (2) it's an oc design for a thing i'm still cooking and it's in the earliest of stages where the characters don't even have names.) i have a pretty good idea why day 8 was such a miss: i got overconfident. day 7 was a draw from your imagination day and it went well enough i thought i could do it again the next day. lol nope.

so i went back to my reference board for the next couple of days, but i had gotten a taste of true freedom (drawing from imagination -- and in pencil!) and i wasn't feeling the portraits anymore.

the next couple of days after that were rough (again -- no pictures bc uncooked oc's) but all the drawing from reference i did the week before had done me good. i had the willpower to keep going despite being unhappy with my drawings. they weren't bad drawings per se, but i was using my newly-found oc-drawing muscles and there were bound to be some growing pains. i was also drawing in pencil but by that point i had gotten used to making mistakes so i wasn't stressed about having to erase over and over.

(i don't think i actually erased all that much, tbh. i was instead using a blending stump to mask the wobbly lines.)

day 15. i didn't set out to draw one page a day but that's what ended up happening so i just went with it. i also only had an hour or two to draw and that's how much i was able to get done in that amount of time. slow and steady wins the race, i guess?

day 19 was i think the first time i drew in pen from imagination in a long time. i was also watching some vtuber drama nonsense on youtube and it got me thinking about making my own vtuber model. idek what a vtuber is or does but the process of making a model from scratch sounds interesting. (its also very time-consuming, i hear.)

anyway.

actual cooked oc's this time + a page of raziel drawn from memory to celebrate the news of the soul reaver prequel graphic novel that's in the making. (apparently dave rapoza is gonna do the cover art for it??)

and this is now turning into an art diary, but you get the gist. i kept going.

and going.

and going.

even when it wasn't fun. even when i didnt' feel like it. and maybe i havent built the habit all the way through yet, but the more i kept going the more i noticed how the "i don't feel like it" feeling became less and less intense.

it hasn't gone away completely. its 10pm now as i'm writing this and i know i have to open up my sketchbook and draw and tbh i don't really feel like it, but it's less that i'm drained and more like "but what if i fuck up a perfectly good page?"

and i know how to deal with that. i pick up a pen and fuck it up on purpose, and then i look at what i have and start problem-solving.

because that's what gets me through it.

not having a clear, concrete problem to tackle is what kept me stuck in limbo for so long, it's what's at the core of my burnout. you'd think creating more problems on purpose would make the burnout worse, but it got me out of the black hole of indecision and anxiety. because if it's something that i made, it's something i can unmake. it's something i can fix.

so i'm fucking fixing it, one step at a time.

[umlewis]

lewis hamilton, p3, during the post-race press conference, spain - june 23, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Interviewer: "Lewis, coming to you now. Many congratulations. Great to see you back on the podium for the first time this year. How much of a boost is this result for you and for the team?" Lewis: "Yeah, it's a big boost to finally get a good result. It's been a minute since I've been up here in the race, so a huge, huge thank you to the team, who have done an amazing job just with all the processes through the race weekend, but particularly everyone back at the factory for working so hard; the extra long hours to bring components to the car. And we're slowly, slowly getting closer. I mean, last year we were very fast here, so you have to take it with a pinch of salt, but obviously the last couple of races we've also been relatively competitive. So I think we have closed the gap a little bit, but we still have a good couple of tenths to try and find, so we just got to have all hands on deck and keep pushing." Interviewer: "Are you still fine-tuning this new package, or do you need more upgrades to close the gap to these two guys?" Lewis: "No. I think that's the maximum it's got, at the moment, and so… But, I mean, we're always fine-tuning it with subtle changes that we make, so we are always fine-tuning it when we continue to tune it through the year. But we need to bolt some stuff on, some extra bits to be able to compete with these guys." Interviewer: "Now, you had to overtake Carlos Sainz twice today. He was unhappy about the first of those moves, saying that you should have given the place back. Can we just get your take on what happened at turn one, there?" Lewis: "I mean, look, it's not a good feeling when you do get overtaken, and I think we had a nice, tight battle into turn one. I left him some room, so I think he was still on the track. But ultimately he left the door open on the inside, didn't fully close it, and so I went for the inside and tried to make the corner. I think he came around. I think we touched wheels equally and nothing major. It was like a small scrub. Gave him some room on the exit, and yeah…" [laughs] Interviewer: "Alright. Let's throw it forward now. Do you feel Mercedes are building some momentum now?" Lewis: "We definitely are. We definitely are. We're definitely getting more consistent, and if I can just get my qualifying to be like this weekend then it makes the Sunday so much easier. Also if you get a good start, but my Saturdays have been so bad for the last, like, fifteen races, so it's good to have a clean weekend, and hopefully this puts us in a good position to challenge in the next few races." Interviewer: "Thank you, Lewis. Thanks to all three of you. Let's open this to the floor. Name and publication, please."

[time jump] NOT SHOWN: Journalist: "Kevin Scheuren, Motorsport-Total.com. A question is to Lewis and Lando: Of course, I don't want to discredit you becoming driver of the day today, but Max is bringing in victory after victory, and there were slight boos at the podium, as well. So would you say that there is a lack of appreciation for the accomplishments that Max has in the general public from time to time?" Lewis: "Well, I mean, honestly, I'm not really a lot on social media or reading the news, so in terms of being, like… [phone pings, journalists laugh, Lewis laughs] Yeah. I don't really… I'm not tapped into that to know, exactly, but on the race weekends, he always has a huge crowd, always, so he's always got amazing support and, at the end of the day, he does a fantastic job. Every weekend he delivers, and he's got a great team and obviously a great car, but you can't fault him."

[time jump] Journalist: "Phil Duncan, PA. Lewis, you've obviously said that Mercedes are building a bit of momentum. Do you think that that victory is on the horizon, and how important is it to you to sign off your Mercedes career with a win before the year's out?" Lewis: "I mean, it's not the… It'd be /nice/, but I think, considering where we've come from, I think… Yeah, I think just having consistency and seeing if we can put the team further up in the points, I think it's got to be the target, but I think right now let's just try and have more consistent weekends like this and then we'll see. But we aren't yet currently in a position to be able to fight them for wins. You would say that maybe Montreal… I mean, George probably should have won that one, but if I'd qualified where I feel I should have, there was potential also there, too. So we'll see in the next few races. I think we've got these high-speed circuits. You know, the McLaren's always been quick and the Red Bull has been quick in A1 Ring. Silverstone… They'll also be very fast there, but I'm hoping that we are able to eek a little bit closer to them and give them a bit more trouble in the next four or five races. And then we’ve just got to keep bringing upgrades. We've got to keep improving the car. There's a clear improvement and there's just clear areas where we need to bolt on performance so that we can be in the fight with them."

Interviewer: "Thank you. Yep! Another one." Journalist: "Don Kennedy, HB Today, New Zealand Herald. Question for Lewis: Great drive today. Obviously you'll be pleased Mercedes is moving closer to the front, but how does that sit with you in terms of your decision to move to Ferrari next year, and does that give you some second thoughts, given that Ferrari now seems to be falling behind the car you're currently driving?" Lewis: "No, not at all. I mean, firstly, I love Mercedes. I've been with Mercedes since I was thirteen and I'll always be a fan and supporter of Mercedes, and my job this year, right now, is to work as hard as I can with the crew that I have, with the people back at the factory, to try and move and develop the car in the right direction. And so ultimately, whatever course and trajectory the team is on… For next year, for example, there are things that I've hopefully been a part of and be proud of being a part of. My job will start next year at the other team, who I think are doing a great job. I think they've had a couple of difficult races, but let's not forget they had a race win in Monaco. I can't tell you what is wrong with their car and why they are in the position they're in today, but they did bring an upgrade here and I think they are definitely progressing, so yeah… But it doesn't make me second-guess my decision at all."

Interviewer: "Thank you. Yes, more, more questions." Journalist: "Pilar from Paddock Magazine. Question for Lewis: You have mentioned that you are struggling a little bit on qualifying. Where do you think is the key to start improving the results? Is because of the set-up, or more about the pace of the car?" Lewis: "I mean, our pace is where we were, basically-third and fourth to this weekend-but I think our car has generally been very… It's quite peaky, and that means that it's often out of balance. It's very rarely that it's in balance and it's nice and smooth through a corner, and so set-up has been… I've obviously experimented a lot with the set-up over the last couple of years, but the car doesn't really like any of the set-ups but one, and it's slowly starting to just become nicer to drive. And then, ultimately, tires. Tires have been a huge issue for me, so I think we got it half-decent this weekend. If I can make some improvements over the course of the next races, I think there's more performance there."

[marshallpupfan]

Marshall Merchandise Update!

Got some interesting new additions for my collection to show off today! Eventually, I need to show everything off again... as soon as I get things organized again. I still have items I bought from early last year that I still haven't found a spot for yet. I've been slacking! lol

First off, this lapel pin... being graciously held up by Wolf O'Donnell. There's probably a "can't let you do that" joke in here somewhere, but I can't think of any right off hand. 😅

This was actually sent to me by a friend, who recently paid a visit to Nickelodeon Universe (an indoor theme park). While she was there, she seen this and got it for me, hoping it was something I didn't have. Fortunately, it wasn't! A fine item for my collection, indeed! She'll likely see this post later, so if you're reading this, thank you again!

Actually, I believe she also went a year or two ago and managed to find the Meet & Greet Marshall wandering around. She even got a picture & video with him, too. I was quite envious! 😄

Next, this "magic towel" thing. It's also being held up by another wolf - this time, it's Wolf Link, from "The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess". Can you tell I'm a bit of a Nintendo gamer? lol

Anyhoo, I was just doing some shopping with my mother in a dollar store when I happened to stumble upon this. It was only $1.25, so... why not get it? The artwork isn't the best, but hey, I still like it.

Next, one of those "Good 2 Grow" snack containers! Actually, funny story about this one. I was at a gas station, not expecting to see anything pertaining to PAW Patrol, when I seen one of these that someone left at the front near the cashier. However...

It was actually one of Zuma, which surprised me, since they usually pass him up to focus on the main four. I meant to post about it on Twitter/X, but like usual, I forgot. In any case, I decided to track one down, and I soon found one of Marshall at Walmart. It was the last one, too! Unless I'm mistaken, they also had one of Liberty, so I guess they went beyond just the six original pups this time. Nice!

As you might recall, we've actually seen products like this before, about a year or two ago. Back then, it was just the pups in their regular outfits. This time, they went with a superhero theme, no doubt due to The Mighty Movie. I'm not sure why they went with Super Paws and not the Mighty Movie outfits, but maybe these were easier to mold. Who knows, but hey, I quite like it when older outfits get brought back, instead of them getting forgotten in the sands of time.

I just wish we could see THIS outfit again someday. It had a brief reappearance in that "Mighty Pups Save Adventure Bay" video game, but that's it so far. Sadly, at this point, I doubt we'll ever see it again.

Er... guess I got a little distracted here, sorry!

Last, and absolutely not least, is this brand new item! Something I knew about for many months and couldn't wait to get a hold of one for myself! It's "Storytime with Marshall" by Leap Frog!

(In hindsight, taking these pictures in front of my monitor may not have been the best idea. Hopefully they're not too hard to see. 😅)

This thing is legitimately super awesome! They really got his likeness down so well here! I mean, seriously, just look at it! It's so cute! It's easily one of the best pieces of merch I've got in my collection now!

According to the box, it can do quite a lot. It includes 40+ stories, which I assume are based on various episodes (I haven't listened to them yet, but I also assume they focus on different pups, going by the buttons on the front... yeah, it's a shame there's no Rocky or Zuma again, I know). It has a sleep timer, to help lull the little ones to sleep at night before shutting off and all that. Additionally, it teaches "core learning skills" or something, whatever that means. That's cool and all, but of course, for me, I just wanted it because I absolutely love how it looks. It'll look great on one of my shelves! lol

I'll admit, I'm glad this came out before the new animation style got applied. While I like Marshall's updated season 11 look so far (I might make a separate post about that later), his original design is still my #1 favorite. A part of me hopes to keep collecting more merchandise of THIS Marshall, but I know that, by next year, they'll probably retire this design and start using the new one, permanently. Guess I'll enjoy it while it lasts. 😅

And that's all for now! I currently have another item coming in the mail; Marshall's new Rescue Wheels big wheel vehicle + figurine. It's been delayed, but it's supposed to show up at some point next week. Hopefully, the remaining Rescue Wheels merchandise will show up in stores soon enough, and I'll be able to show them all off soon. I might also have to buy a Boomer figurine, too. lol

[bellaxgiornata]

hey there! if you’re looking for some more fun ask questions, maybe 11, 32, and 42? (if you can’t tell, i really adore your writing and trust your judgement so am super interested in which of your own fics you recommend the most as well as any other writers or fics you like) thank you!

I am still open to answering this and I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to respond! I like to try to be thorough in my responses. And thank you so much 😭❤️ That means so much to hear about my writing, it's something I'm very passionate about. Hearing that it's appreciated means a lot! ❤️

As for fics of my own to recommend, I think most of y'all already know about Falling for the Devil when it comes to Matty. And for those who enjoy that series, you'd probably also enjoy The Devil at Your Window. For those who enjoy sexual tension and smut for Matt, I'll toot my horn about Break the Tension. It's not my usual Matt x Reader fic but I think it's been fun to write a Matt who's kind of a desperate asshole (for reasons which will eventually make sense).

For Mikey I'd recommend Safe Haven because it's a series full of plot and surprises. Plus who doesn't want to share a bedroom window with Mikey??

As for Frank I'd recommend either of my series': Neighbors or You're Safe With Me. Both are fun and have/will have suspense!

As for the questions you asked, I'll answer them below the cut because this is going to be a long post 😅

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

I notoriously haven't read much in the past year because I have limited free time and cannot seem to stop writing long enough to focus on reading (something I am sure will change once I have a newborn in a few months and am awake at all hours of the night...). But I love these stories and even though I am not caught up on necessarily all of them, I know many things that are planned for them/have happened and I have read many screenshots as these fics have been written!

And Then I Met You by @souliebird

Cooking Up Love by @loveroftoomanyfandoms

Cadence by @she-likesorchids AKA @theradioactivespidergwen

(Hopefully all the links are correct because I am trying to write this on my phone 😅)

32. Name three of your favorite fanfic writers

There are SO many wonderful writers here on tumblr so picking just 3 is honestly impossible. I literally can't so I'll just list a handful of writers I've actually been able to read some works from and have enjoyed here on tumblr (and that I can think of off the top of my head) who write for Matt, Michael, and/or Frank (and possibly even vamp Henry):

@she-likesorchids

@souliebird

@loveroftoomanyfandoms

@mattmurdocksscars

@sunflowersandsapphires

@shiorimakibawrites

@mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment

@yarrystyleeza

@itwasthereaminuteago

@pastafossa

@peterman-spideyparker

(There's absolutely more and I apologize for my brain blanking, plus the list of writers on my TBR list is huge 😅)

@farfromstrange

@courtforshort15

42. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

An Ode to a Coat by @pastafossa

YES EVERYONE GO READ IT. As long as you're over 18 of course because it's smutty goodness.

[dreamersingingroses]

Help Getting BL Manhwa Paljae Licensed

As per an initiative started on Reddit, I would like to ask you for help in regards to the potential licensing of the BL manhwa Paljae, Child of Winter.

I'm not kidding when I say this manhwa is a treat for the eyes.

With its Korean-inspired mythology and eery fantasy elements, Paljae is a beatiful story about a blind, powerful dosa (akin to a cultivator) who saves the life of a mysterious creature close to death that seems to be weakened by high temperatures and empowered by Winter season.

This is a mesmerizing manhwa both in artstyle and content. The exploration of human emotions, the blossoming of deep-rooted love and lifelong lessons are just the tip of this phenomenal story about two messed up beings finding companionship in each other.

I could sing praises about this story for hours and still it wouldn't be enough to express just how good it is. If this tiny summary has picked your interest, or if you're already acquainted with the story, please spare me five (5) more minutes!

See, as many of you know, the publishing house Seven Seas Entertainment opens a reader's survey every month to get suggestions from people about what their new licenses should be. From personal experience, I know getting a publisher's attention is hard (very much so), which means that this survey is a great opportunity to hopefully make them consider licensing this title.

As readers, we have the power to suggest what we're interested in buying, and we have to take this chance.

So without further ado, I propose we take this monthly surveys to get them to at least consider Paljae as a potential license.

A user on Reddit posted how you can help us by participating in the monthly surveys with instructions to do so: https://www.reddit.com/r/Paljae_ChildofWinter/s/KamfbYGn18

If you don't want to exit Tumblr right now, keep reading for my own summary of the post.

Whether you're familiar with Seven Seas or just want to give us a hand, if you're interested in reading Paljae, are already in love with it or just want to support the author, please consider taking Seven Seas Entertainment's monthly survey.

How can I help?

1. Once you click on the link, you'll be redirected to the FREE survey.

2. You will need to give them an email. This is only so they can make sure one person doesn't fill in multiple surveys. Your email won't be shared with their associates, and you won't be sent any emails either. I've been participating with other less wholesome suggestions for months, and it's alright.

3. You will have to answer a brief multiple-choice questionnaire about the formats you prefer to read manhwas, comics and the like.

4. Frequently, there will be a compulsory question about their new releases, so you may be prompted to choose the ones that pick your interest. Their covers and names will be included in a multiple-choice format, so have fun looking at them :)

5. There will be a question about which WEBTOON/WEBCOMIC you'd like to see licensed. This is where you can type Paljae, Child of Winter.

6. Finally, if you want to participate in their monthly raffle and win a paperback they published during the year prior, just enter your email in the last section. This is voluntary and won't affect the consideration of your answers.

We Tumblerinas know that fandom makes impossible things come true, and wouldn't it be awesome if we could make this happen?

You can find the link for their monthly reader's survey in different places:

- At the end of their webpage, https://sevenseasentertainment.com/

It will look something like this:

- On Instagram, in their stories: https://www.instagram.com/sevenseasentertainment?igsh=MWpsZ2xuZ2xvdG8zaA==

It will look something like this:

- On Twitter/X/whatever (I know we don't talk 'bout X around here, but still), https://twitter.com/gomanga

The tweet will usually be posted the first week of every month.

- On the reddit post linked in this publication, https://www.reddit.com/r/Paljae_ChildofWinter/s/KamfbYGn18

[This user will update the link every month, so that you can access the newest version whenever you see this post.]

That being said, I am very thankful for your time and I hope you can spare a few minutes to make this a reality. Thank you very much!

[steddieficrec]

Some teen fics I've read (and reread) recently that I loved.

sounds like sweet talk to my ears by judasofsuburbia

(1/1 I 1,633)

"You just gotta practice on someone with zero stakes,” Eddie exclaims.

“Like who?”

Eddie gestures to Robin who cackles loudly.

“Not a chance,” Robin says.

“I’m not fake flirting with Robin. Gag.”

Eddie’s mouth twists. His next sentence is on the tip of his tongue, fighting to come out of his mouth, but his brain is screaming don’t, don’t don’t‒

“Practice on me,” Eddie blurts. His voice is meek so he clears his throat and puts on his most encouraging smile.

or: after watching steve strike out again at the scoops ahoy counter, eddie suggests that steve try flirting with him as practice. no harm, no foul, it's just pretend, right?

another version of me (i was in it) by badfanfictionaire

(1/1 I 2,651)

Eddie can’t not see it. Beneath the crappy hairpiece and comical purple lenses, there’s only one person this Djo guy could be: Steve Harrington. He’d recognize the happy trail peeking out from his striped crop-top anywhere. It’s the same one that’s haunted his dreams since he last saw the guy at a pool party in ‘86.

just watch me now by ilip13

(1/1 I 6,000)

"Dude, you’re not a sellout." Steve leans in his direction, arms crossed over his knees, gaze intent. Eddie looks away. "You’re amazing."

Eddie groans.

"Seriously," Steve continues relentlessly, driving the point home. "Those lyrics — no one writes like that, man. It was easier to save the world than to ask you for your number? I thought it was brilliant."

Oh, if only he knew.

*

Eddie's unrequited love song accidentally becomes a hit.

too good to deny it by unkreativstermensch

(1/1 I 11,793)

“Well, apparently…you uh had some fun too, huh, Steve?” Eddie’s voice sounded weird, almost like there was an accusatory undertone. Steve’s frown deepened. This was about him finding someone to make out with?

“Yeah? What about it? I know I said I’d make sure you were safe and everything, but does that mean I can’t enjoy myself? You were both pretty preoccupied, weren’t you?”

“I-” Robin actually looked speechless. “Of course you can, just…it was…” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, frustrated. “That was a guy, Steve!”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

Robin blinked. “A guy,” she repeated, an exasperated expression on her face, her hands making some sort of gesture, underlining the word.

“I know,” Steve said, in the same manner, starting to get frustrated now, too. “Was pretty hard to miss with his dick against my thigh.” He narrowed his eyes. “No pun intended.”

  or: 5 times Steve enjoys kissing boys and 1 time he realizes what that means

Turn Your Back on Mother Nature by gr0gu

(4/4 I 16,946)

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

Steve was supposed to work with Robin at the Family Video, flirt with the many many girls who came to browse the expansive selection of VHSes, go on some dates, and hopefully find The One.

It was supposed to be a notably upside-down free year.

And, hey, for what it's worth? He wasn't supposed to be pinned down on a mattress by Eddie Munson either.

And he certainly wasn't supposed to be enjoying it.

But that's getting a bit ahead of things…

if you fall, i will catch you by mseg_21

(3/3 I 29,930)

“So, about prom-” Buckley starts.

Eddie instantly cuts her off. “Still not going,” he says, fiddling with the candy display on the counter.

“I know, I know,” she says with a dismissive wave. “Steve told me to stop pestering you about it and to leave you alone.”

Eddie bites down on a smile. It’s easy to picture Steve with his hands on his hips and his best Stern Mom Look as he tells Robin to leave Eddie alone. He’s witnessed it multiple times. With the kids, and a few times with Eddie himself.

“You don’t have to come to prom with us,” Robin says. Eddie doesn’t even get the chance to do a celebratory dance before she continues. “But how do you feel about us having our very own prom?”

“Us?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrow at her.

or Eddie refuses to go to prom so Robin suggests a fake prom at Steve’s house. There’s dancing, misunderstandings, feelings realizations, a Prom King and Queen election, and Steve acting like Eddie’s prom date the entire night

down too long in the midnight sea by spacenarwhal

(2/2 I 42,121)

If Steve’s being completely honest with himself, it was probably only ever a matter of time before he lost his mind.

He’s certainly taken enough hits to the head to justify it happening.

Still, Steve didn’t imagine going crazy would go quite like this, standing on the heat-parched yellow grass outside Max’s trailer, looking at a ghost.

[Or: The, alleged, haunting of Steve Harrington.]

sub-culture by palmviolet

(13/13 I 60,702)

“Is he whining about Eddie being mean to him again?” Robin is leaning in the doorway, eating a leftover slice that’s probably cold by now. “You talk about him more than you talk about girls, Steve, it’s getting concerning. Anyone would think you had a crush.”

or, steve is pretty convinced eddie now hates him. turns out eddie has the opposite problem.

the other hand knocking by greatunironic

(10/10 I 102,211)

Since he was eighteen, Steven Harrington knew he would not marry: there were many factors, but chief among them were that he had, he knew, given up his chance for true happiness when he had allowed his mother to persuade him from accepting Edward Munson’s proposal.

Or: a Regency AU.

i can't tune you out by hairstevington

(28/28 I 113,115)

Eddie Munson is an up-and-coming rock and roll artist living in LA. Steve Harrington (under the stage name HARVEST) has been taking the radio by storm lately. When the fans start shipping them together as a couple, Steve and Eddie consider it an opportunity to boost their upcoming albums. There's just one problem - they can't stand each other.

[autumnleopard]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @amidnight--dreary!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

Currently 46. No doubt there will be more to come, once I manage to actually finish any of my WIPs.

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

234.084. I'm a little disappointed in myself right now.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The bulk of my AO3 fics are for the MCU but I have moved on from that and I'm mostly writing for Peaky Blinders right now (and possibly in the future as well). I have two unfinished MCU fics that I will eventually finish, I swear. There's also a few fics written for other fandoms but it's usually single fics.

4. Top five fics by kudos

In order: The King Is Dead, Long Live The King, Winter Butterfly, A Simple Act, Early Bird, and Sleepy Head.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes. Though I'm sure I have missed some...

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh, hm. I think it would be Dead Boy's Poem, which in my not so humble opinion is a great story, it's just that it ends very badly.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'm sure there's a few that qualify... At the top of my head I'd pick there goes my mind racing, just because it's a story that's very dear to me and one I actually love to reread. But honestly, there's probably a few fics that qualify, A Simple Act would be one of them for example. Winter Butterfly might fall in that category once it's actually finished...

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I think I remember getting some way back when but I can't remember what it was about, not that it even matters. I do recall having a brief argument with the person, I just deleted the comment thread. Nothing since then I think... I hope it remains that way.

9. Do you write smut?

Ah, well, not really. I have tried my hand at it but it wasn't anything explicit, basically everything but, so right leading up to the steamy stuff. I felt a bit awkward writing that, so I probably stick to hinting at stuff etc. But who knows, perhaps in the future...

10. Craziest crossover?

Well, I don't think I've written crossovers. As far as crazy stories go though, it's definitely the two stories involving the Avengers and resurrected dinosaurs. (Don't ask.)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so, which is good. Hopefully it won't ever happen.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Sadly not. I have translated my own shit though. Well, one. I wrote it in my native language and later translated it to English to post it. That's also one of the first fics I ever posted on AO3, way back in 2019.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Winter Butterfly is a project of the wonderful @worstloki and me, which we really have to finish at some point... I recall that we talked about it at the end of last year, and I forgot to check on the fic since then... Sorry.

14. All time favorite ship?

Ah damn. I have to say that it's probably Tofie (Tommy and Alfie from Peaky Blinders). It's the ship I write mostly for now and also the ship that kind of has stolen my heart, so to speak. I just love bisexual disaster gangsters. It used to be Frostiron. It's the one I've written most for and it still is dear to me but unfortunately it has been dethroned.

15. What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh. At the top of my head it's a fic called "When Dragons Cry", which I haven't posted and it just sits in my docs and judges me. It's Frostiron and Loki is a dragon and his egg has been stolen. There's convoluted lore to it as well.

But also a fic/series called "here I am alone between the heavens and the embers" which is about Tommy from Peaky and ghosts. Do ask me about that. Maybe if I talk about it, I will actually fucking work on it. It's so ambitious in my opinion, and I don't know if I am confident enough in my abilities to actually write it. I mean, I have started it and I do like what I've written, but damn...

There's probably more... Now I feel awful for all the abandoned projects... Anyway!

16. What are your writing strengths?

I cannot answer this because I don't know. Even if I think longer about it, I probably won't be able to come up with a satisfactory answer. It's probably something others are more capable of answering for me.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Honestly, same answer as 16. Though I guess I could say smut because it's just something I haven't practiced as much.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I think it's good. Though my language knowledge is very limited. I have used some in the past but it's usually very simple phrases that even a translator cannot fuck up.

19. First fandom you wrote in?

I've had that question recently and my answer is still not any more definite. It's probably Naruto, NCIS or Warriors. Though the more I think about it, the more I believe it was Warriors. But can't remember honestly.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

There's a bunch but if I have to pick, I'm gonna pick Lest We Forget again because it's a fic I'm very, very proud of and which deserves more attention in my not so humble opinion.

Tagging some writers, hope you don't mind, also no pressure obviously... @poormeowmeowcollector @justhallucinating @rabentochter @whentommymetalfie @justrainandcoffee @andtherewerefireworks

[hairbrush9]

tumblr is the last social media that feels remotely social... remember when it was only our primary school friends? then outer circle, then university, then the whole world practically. I think after i lost contact with so many people irl I realized there was nothing pulling me back to those social medias. facebook , my first sm, was abandoned after early high school as I latched onto weird twitter to post jokes with my buddies and classmates. tumblr was a medium i originally joined to post gifs of pokemon and dbz, ended up making some good e friends over time - sad that most of them are moved on but hopefully for the better. Instagram was a part of my social media journey probably from 2012 - 2021 & IG was abandoned because of a combination of fomo & disinterest in my academic peers, and a lack of engagement with my posts. I honestly still wish I was as avid about taking photos/videos with my phone but now that I drive everywhere my hands are always busy. In 2014 I got really into media/politics twitter and it consumed my time & morale - ended up deleting for a few years and then remaking around pandemic times, only to abandon it again late 2021 after i realized the soul suck was still ever so obvious. snapchat wasn't a part of my life for a very long time on account of I don't really love taking selfies or communicating via images of random shit so I left that around the same time I ditched facebook for twitter. Peach was small and insular and was a fun place to go for a break from tumblr back in like...2018 or something? Anyway people talked shit about me for literally just being myself and hurting nobody so I don't care to return there (and my current phone doesn't support the app so whatever!). I've purposefully stayed away from tiktok and twitter alternatives because I don't really think adding to my social media is going to bring me any more meaning/joy at this point. just want to build on relationships that already exist because I don't feel insatiable on this front right now

[kotlc-deleted-scenes]

Keeper Summer Week #12

Deleted Scene from Flashback 

I cut this scene because the Healing Center sequence was such a huge chunk of the book that I needed to limit it to the most essential moments. I had to cut anything where Sophie wasn't learning something significant or making progress on her recovery. And since this was neither of those, it had to go.

—Shannon

“Okay—enough chitchat,” Ro said, marching over to Elwin's office. "I was promised ooze!" 

"Yeah, let the Great Fitzphie Ooze Fest begin!" Keefe commanded, pumping his fist. 

"It's going to be a few more minutes," Elwin warned them. "I'm still finishing up one of the poultices." 

"Is there gross stuff in it?" Ro asked hopefully. 

"Some of the worst I've ever seen," Elwin agreed. 

Keefe smirked at Fitz and Sophie. "Excellent." 

"But hurry it up!" Ro added as she paced around the room. 

The third time she passed Sophie's cot, she paused to ask, "Are you aware of your hair situation?" 

"Situation?" Sophie repeated. 

"Disaster zone' might be more appropriate," Ro warned as she pulled a compact from the back of her breastplate and held the mirror up to show Sophie. 

Sophie blinked. "Oh wow." 

She wasn't sure how hair could stick out in so many different directions and also be plastered to her head. And the more she tried to pull it into a ponytail, the more it rebelled. 

"Okay, now it's getting pathetic," Ro said, smacking Sophie's hand away and taking over. "You can all thank me later." 

"Uh, what is happening right now?" Keefe asked. 

"I'm helping your girl look less like a newborn yeti." She used her claws like a comb, trailing them gently across Sophie's skull. "Worried I'm going to shred the skin off your scalp?" she asked when Sophie flinched. "I could, you know." 

"I'm sure you could," Sophie agreed. 

Just like she was sure that Ro could crush her head like a grape. "It's weird, isn't it?" Ro asked, separating Sophie's hair into sections. 

"This truce between our species? I mean, if someone had told me last year that I'd get this close to an elf and not want to rip out their throat—especially one of the little brats who attacked our capital city- I'd have broken every bone in their body. But here I am: styling elf-y hair in Sparkle Town. And the weirdest thing is—I don't totally hate it. I mean, I could do without all the glitter—and the perfumy smell. But the drama and obliviousness make it pretty entertaining." 

"Obliviousness?" Sophie asked. 

"The fact that you need me to spell it out for you kinda proves my point. But don't worry: Someday you'll figure it out—and then things will get very interesting. In the meantime—behold!"

She held up the mirror again, revealing the two messy buns she'd twisted Sophie's hair into—which was a little Princess Leia meets Minnie Mouse, if Sophie was honest. 

Ro sighed. "Clearly you need to start seeing yourself the way others do. Check out the staring boys if you don't believe me." 

She pointed to Fitz and Keefe, who were indeed staring. 

"What?" Sophie asked, heat creeping up her neck. 

Fitz blinked. "You look… different in a good way." 

"Dude, is that the best you can do?" Keefe asked. 

"I don't see you doing any better," Fitz argued. 

"Oh, I could. But I'm trying not to make you look bad. And can we be done with the makeovers? I came here for ooze! Come on, Elwin—you're killing me!" 

"One more minute," Elwin called back. "Still finishing up the new poultice."

[koraichalcum]

some funky previews for shenanigans - ooo mystery raid (its obvious). Already started approaching peeps to participate in some key stuff but it'll open for all to come throw hands and participate in the coming arcs...once I figure out the mechanics. Almost there, trying to make it less mathy and more fun. This is part of that turtle thing I talked about months back-been plotting in the bg, bidding time hah!

It's gonna take a long while, this is still a slow burn event. An important note for my various muses and stuff ahead beneath!

Again, slow burn event - it wont be constant cause of life, dont want stress and for story beats. Most will be fun raid events for muses to catch some neato paradox pokemon leading to funny turtle shenanigans and crater dives. It's not entirely plotted out. Like...here's my scratchy notes lol:

Anyone can join in on open parts - super hope you do! I kinda wanted this as a sort of final ruckus to Scarlet/Violet as gamefreak on record is going to announce a new venture for the year. Hopefully this ends before whenever that comes out!

While this long event is for anyone to participate (Im planning sign ups or something of that matter later down the line for crux parts-Ive already approached some of you, hello there ; > ), it also means the end of my many muse's arcs and stories they've been slowly building to in the bg. This is going to be my fun and final goodbye to my time in the rpc completely.

It's been weighed for a long long time now and I feel it's just about right. Life's been very very busy in a good way! Going to therapy, narrowing down what I want to do with myself, developing habits and schedules to ensure I stick to it including getting properly medicated, challenging my social anxiety and reaching out to others, and even deciding to quit my current dayjob in the near future. RP has been holding me up for years now with just fantastic character and plot ideas I couldn't come up including meeting so many mutuals and friends who've stuck with me for just as long as I've been here. But at some point it's turning more and more into an investment and distraction. I spend too much time here then realize Ive been behind on actual work including the amount of energy and creativity.

In no way am I leaving because of drama, trouble, etc. Figured it'd be nice to bid goodbye with an event then to just peace out quietly one day. Im not even entirely leaving rp per say. I would love to join some of the rp servers here now that Im getting better at participating in group chats. That way Id still stay connected to friends! Probably going to join with new muses entirely but besides the point--

Thanks so much for being interested in my plots, crack posts, ic things, art, etc. Again in no way is this anytime soon hah! I figured with the long while until this is happening Ill have time to start and wrap up other important plots going on with mutuals. But Im looking forward to making this the best last year ever in the rpc before the new title drops <3

Also lizard shenanigans-hes been having a time throwing ya'll around like chew toys.

[trials-of-a-spirit-worker]

Hi, I happened to stumble upon your page and I have an inquiry.

So ever since I was a child I was VERY attracted to witchcraft even though I had no access to it. Like it was something unconscious, I live in Saudi Arabia and everyone is VERY RELIGIOUS to the point where even Harry Potter was banned before I could even watch it as a child (just emphasizing the fact that I had no way to know witchcraft) but somehow I knew what it was. In my specific case, it had to do with demons. I always found myself thinking about them in completely unrelated situations like thoughts would suddenly pop up in my head. I would also unconsciously try to summon one like some third party was willing me to do so and I just felt very obligated to at least, I was very young when this happened (I'm talking 4-6 years old). Later on, whenever I would wake up I would see a blurry gray silhouette of what seemed to be a man rising with me from bed, being outside when I opened the bathroom door waiting, felt like I was being watched in the shower, visited in my dreams, etc. When I grew older (13-15) it started to get REALLY weird. Like the thing would visit me in my dreams whatever the dream was and somehow I would wake up with my hand in my private??? Like I would wake up touching myself every. Time. It. Visited. Sometime last year I got a nightmare of said demon\figure chained in the corner of my room snarling at me and trying to get to me. Later on, I had a dream of being watched by owls, seagulls, and some other brown bird, I was aware in the dream that it was 3 a.m., my bed was moved from an angle and I could see human remains and trash under. Could you please help me piece together what all of this means? I still want to practice witchcraft but every time I try to I get super dizzy and I feel like I'm being watched. (I'm a solar witch and a 16-year-old female)

Hello anon!

When I was younger, I also felt the pull to witchcraft/spirit work. I think it just means we're a little more sensitive to the call. Anyone can be a witch, yes.

But there are signs that come to us that sometimes just shouldn't be ignored.

I hope you're being safe first of all. I don't know how restrictive your situation is and I do know some places in Saudi Arabia and other surrounding places can be less tolerant of witchcraft and non-accepted religions and practices. Much like parts of the states are the same way. As a closet witch myself, I sincerely hope you'll find a place one day when you're older to practice freely without fear.

Second, my first thought is some form of incubi because of the sexual touching but I don't want to jump the gun and misinform you. But harmful spirits do sometimes use sexual misconduct to weaken a person's resolve. Or...some spirits are just really weird like that. In either case, I'm so sorry this is happening to you.

If you can, find some jade for better dreaming. Moonstones, Obsidian and Amethyst are good protection too.

If you have a diffuser or any way to release essential oils, sage would be a good one to have on you. Peppermint, Sweet Orange, Tea Tree and Frankincense are great for better dreams and should hopefully repel that strange entity hounding you.

If you have incense, those would work wonderfully as well especially in any of those scents I mentioned above.

Because whatever is going on really does seem like torment on the entities side. You don't deserve that.

Pray to whoever you worship for guidance and protection from this twisted entity that's bothering you. If you don't have an deity who you follow, I recommend just looking to the universe to give you the wisdom and protection to deal with this being.

A small truck that anyone with any level of energy work should learn/work to master is warding yourself off. Again, anyone you worship or work with, ask them for their protection, envision a cloak, a light, a bubble—I've heard many forms of this shielding whatever works for you and comes naturally and cover yourself in it. Something that'll work to bring you peace. Even if the entity shatters it the first couple times, be persistent. Put it up again.

It'll show the entity you're not going to tolerate suffering from it any longer.

Stand strong, lift up your head, and keep hope. I truly hope this helps you even if it's just a little bit, and don't hesitate to come back of you need more help.

I'm sorry this took so long, I wasn't ignoring you. Life gets away from you sometimes...you know? But I'll do my best to help with what I can.

[gaviicreates]

2024 Intentions

Hiya fellow crafters! I hope your first week of 2024 has been fruitful and inspiring, or if needed, relaxing and perfect for a reset. For me, it's been a bit of both, and I'm abysmally late on whatever we do for the switch over of years.

I thought about doing a "what I made in 2023" but I realized I didn't make very good notes or take very good pictures for such a task. There's also a lot I am proud of, and each project was special for different reasons. But as the last few days have passed, I also moved on from looking backward. So instead, I want to switch over the year by looking to 2024.

I'm not into planning too much of my crafting month by month, but I do have a few WIPs going and scheduled, plus some longer term projects I am very excited for.

Carry over WIPs Carrying over from 2023, I have two main projects and some doilies.

I actually caught up on my sky blanket a few days ago. Granted, I have to weave in ends still - so many ends - but I'm proud of myself for keeping up with it, thus far. As a reminder, this is like a temperature blanket, but I'm basing my colors off of the coloring of the sky: sunny or partly cloudy or overcast or snowing, for a few examples. This project will finish up in October (since I am running it a year between an important date) and I have November and December for final touches like ends and borders.

Also from 2023, I have a start to a knit sock, which I'd like to finish by St. Paddy's Day since it's all about the green.

Of doilies, officially, I have three to complete, and they've been started. I've had to buy some additional stock for one of them, which will take time to come in. I'll fit doilies in as I can, and as I get requests.

New and Current:

I have a drop-in gift I started in tunisian crochet. If you saw my sunday stitchin', that burnt amber is the start to this project. Since it's a gift, I won't share too much about this, but the goal for this one is for it to be a "January" project.

This next one I am VERY excited for, and it'll be a long term project.

This past year, FFXIV has been a huge comfort and challenge, and I've come to love the stories and characters. I am calling this one my "of the Seventh Dawn" blanket, and I've selected a hand-dyed colorway for each of the NPC Scions, plus a color for my own Warrior of Light and my husband's. In total, I'll have 14 different colors, which are all different. I expect this one will be as chaotic as a mystery advent, but each of the colors will mean something to us. It's a subtle nod, but I've spent a lot of time investigating colors and making the selections. I am still working out the pattern and size I'd like to make this, but I've gotten the yarn on order and I can't wait to share them.

#ffxiv blanket for this one

Blogging

Finally, in the space of this blog, I'd like to be a bit more active with writing and sharing my progress. I have a yarn subscription for this year that's through Fangirl Fibers (90s Cinematic Tonals), so I'll have some exciting, surprise acquisitions which will hopefully allow me to work through some of this stash.

[artsycervidae]

Moksha: Chapter 10, Intermission

Nobutoshi has an unsettling dream. Tetsuya names his price.

Word Count: 6.3k

Chapter list and trigger warnings are listed here.

The only quadrant left for Nobutoshi to patrol was due south. Of course, it was impossible to clear out every single demon in such a large area-- he only needed to target the stronger ones that proved more of a potential issue. But ever a perfectionist, he had hitchhiked and doubled back the long way. Whether it be by horse, wagon, or trolly, Nobutoshi took advantage of passivity by resting. He practiced Junko's meditative teachings in the meantime: she would catch naps completely sitting up, eyes open, for no longer than thirty minutes at a time, and her ability to set her own internal clock had been enviable. To the common public, Nobutoshi was a handsomely rugged man swathed in a deep cerulean garb, immune to conversation, staring intensely at the passing landscape. This extreme form of maintenance saved him time and effort better expended elsewhere.

Unfortunately, he never had mastered lucid dreaming. Even Hinata had improved to the point they could hear and feel their surroundings while asleep, though there was a lag before they woke on command. They were laywaid by their own mind, but not when it came to controlling its practical functions. This personal failure of Nobutoshi's made the last couple days insufferable, riddled with wasted time, minutes spent sitting in place as his thoughts waterfalled over him in his most vulnerable state.

-----

The Demon Corps resting grounds were massive: the Ubuyashiki lands held what scraps and memoriam remained of valiant souls at peace. Rows engraved with the family names of fallen Slayers had grown significantly over the years. Like many others, Junko found herself an orphan-- after she passed Final Selections, she returned to a world where she was totally alone, forbidden from her communal home and barred from mourning the loss with her three-year-old brother.

The only family she could visit now stood before them as polished stone, 'Hashimoto' carved into history. "I wish you two had been here when they were buried," Junko told Nobutoshi for the thousandth time. "I really wish you met them before they died... They would have liked you."

"There's always your brother," Nobutoshi suggested hopefully, before realizing he already knew where this line of dialog went.

"I hope not. It'll be impossible to answer for all our absences. Children rarely forgive abandonment and they never forget. Not to mention," her chin lifted, steadfast against her misery, "a sword in his hands means I've failed at making a safe world for him... No. I can't face him until this is all over."

Premonition weighed heavy on his chest. She always wanted Tetsuya to live in a future where children could play outside without fearing the dark. Even if the boy himself wasn't a marechi, it wasn't enough for her that he had been spirited away with the other Garden survivors, sequestered under the care of endangered shinobi clans. He needed to be secure and carefree; her goal was for his life to be free of demonic influence. That thought led elsewhere-- somewhere Nobutoshi wasn't ready to face yet.

"You're doing amazing work so far," he instead praised. "You're already a Hashira. You've met with Master before anyone else I know."

"It's not good enough," she smiled wanly. "We're still losing the war."

"I think someone like you can tip the scales in our favor," Nobutoshi told her. "You guide others into battle and safety, your fighting is efficient and unparalleled, anytime you arrive it's as if you know exactly what we need to do to win."

"You're probably the only person who appreciates that," she chuckled. "Grown men don't like being bossed around by a little girl." And she looked past him when she said, "Isn't that right? Remember, Hinata, when that old guy nearly fought me?"

"Grown men can have a say when they're able to distinguish a dirty mouth from authentic offense," Hinata defended, suddenly making their presence known. "Your bark is worse than your bite, anyway. I would rather have you drag me through the dirt than get chewed out in front of everybody like that... you can be pretty cruel." Although this made the girl snicker, Nobutoshi discredited their opinion wholesale, agreeing only with Hinata's sentiment. If others could see what they saw, fellow fighters would know that swears and an attitude mattered very little in the grand scheme of her impact.

Hinata stepped past them both-- suddenly, the graveyard was different from before. They had transported to the corner where the Rengoku Pillars and their kin rested; Hinata crouched and spoke softly to both Kenzou and Kosuke. "I'm sorry I could never repay you," they apologized. "I'm sorry I wasn't good enough yet." Junko kept an appropriate distance and let Hinata have their say: Nobutoshi scanned over the rows before it dawned on him: this was a fantasy. Even outside the dream, humanity was losing this secret war.

"Uh oh," Junko sighed as Hinata rose to their feet. "Here comes Kai."

Indeed, Kosuke's eldest surviving son was incoming, his scalding eyes blazing through Hinata as his brother-tsuguko Shiori tagged along, trying to dissuade him of any violence. The eldest's fist had flexed and closed-- Nobutoshi didn't want to see this again: the way Hinata would roll over, would let Kai verbally assault them for daring to consider paying their respects-- or 'disrespects,' according to the beholder. The newly-appointed Flame Hashira drew a deep breath, Shiori relaxed. But then Kai moved past his sibling, deadset on reaching the interloper who had taken his family from him: Hinata, of course, stepped forward to meet him halfway.

"Hinata, don't--" Nobutoshi pleaded. 'He's going to really hurt you this time. It's going to break your heart.'

"It's the least I can do," Hinata said, not heeding the mental warning. "Taking the blame might not save anyone now, but... he feels better, afterward." It would take a couple spats-- a bloody nose, a broken finger-- before Hinata learned to stay out of sight and mind. To abandon the grave markers forever, for the sake of peace. No physical retribution would salve Kai's heart, Shiori's interventions would never smother the fires of passionate hate, and it was a debt that no amount of Hinata's blood would repay.

Before Nobutoshi could close his eyes to block out the incoming scene, Junko reached forward and grabbed Hinata's hand, dragging them away at a full sprint. This surprised Nobutoshi-- he followed, wondering for a moment how running away from such problems could ever help. Hinata would never change, would always be like this. They could never face humanity except for punishment; they would rather bury their tears in Junko's shoulder, as if she were at all responsible for them.

Demon Corps headquarters folded and unfolded, and Nobutoshi found himself facing one of the oldest wisteria trees, dead center in the courtyard. He was indoors, but the friends he had been chasing were all the way under the blossoms, as if they had always been there. The two were exchanging combat techniques, and the dissonance struck Nobutoshi as humorous: it would be like them to start a scuffle in the same space where their superior officers held meetings, to get amped up on each other's excitement.

As usual, Hinata was soundly outperformed by Junko. She effortlessly flipped them over her shoulder, watching their own erratic movements bring them down before holding her wooden sword to their throat. "See, if you were a demon, it would be all over now," she said, chipper. "Well. Besides the sunlight and the wisteria, which would have gotten you first." And she laughed, a musical and boastful noise that Nobutoshi couldn't help smiling for.

"Again," the loser pleaded. "Tell me. What did I do wrong?"

"You keep underestimating the naturally ambulatory motions of Foliage Breathing," she told them. "You can go left, right, up, down. Stop reacting and start predicting. Get into my head, dumbass."

"It's hard," they said, curling up on the ground, picking up fistfuls of wisteria petals to drop over their lap. "If I get in your head, then you'll get into mine."

"That's the point," Junko scolded. She knelt down, scooped up stray flowers, and rained them on Hinata's head. "You need to open your awareness, which means being receptive to others." Hinata hummed, allowing their superior to lecture on. Nobutoshi wanted to get closer, but the afternoon was so warm, the scene so placid, that he leisurely observed from his vantage point as he adored his friends. Indeed, these two had become Nobutoshi's dearest companions. Even Hinata, as off-putting and histrionic they may be, had grown on him with their eccentric interests and constant desire to please. They were each Slayers worth knowing.

Junko still held the superior control over her body's nervous system: of her nearly-psychic connection for up to five days after physical contact with any human. Additionally her range of sensing air currents had expanded to fifty meters; the Kakushi benefitted from her presence in search-and-rescue, often preferring her command despite the usual tension between pillars and their subjects.

Hinata was trying to learn to emulate that: emphasis on trying. They could trail any demon or Slayer to impossible lengths with their needle-sharp attention to them: which landed them, more often than not, in the particular role of capturing demons alive for training purposes. These demons were analyzed by others like Hinata, whose years of knowledge and experience lended familiarity to the sorts of demons that initiates could and couldn't beat. This intense curiosity in demonhood had developed its own niche, and encouraging them to learn her craft hands-on had never presented an issue. Junko's biggest obstacle with this pupil was their inability to cast their mind about, relying too much on object permanence for a single target as their crutch: "You're stalking like a jungle cat, but you haven't honed in on your reflexes. Really, it's the most inefficient thing you could do with such a specific ability. You'll never become a Hashira like that."

"I can't become a Hashira, period," they pouted.

"Well, what are you even fighting for then?"

"To hunt demons."

"Besides that."

"To learn about--"

"Besides demons."

They paused before shrugging, their imagination limited to the confines of Demon Corps obligations... much less outside of Junko or Nobutoshi. "The best I can do is hope my death benefits someone else." They shook the wisteria out of their hair and added, with a note of humor, "Yeah. I won't mind dying if someone gets something out of it. Just have me walk in front of you when things look scary."

"At least you're optimistic about it," Junko said-- which had to be sarcastic, but her aura was missing-- and Nobutoshi remembered, again, this was a dream. Junko wasn't really here, and Hinata would never be the same. After watching her student meditate in petals for another second or two, she scooted on her knees in front of them. Their eyes rose, reflecting a muted green hue. The two had an entire conversation without speaking. It was a bond Nobutoshi sensed, yet was not privy to. Something he knew existed but could not understand, and what was the point of seeing everything if what he saw made him so bitter? They had their own language: twin tactile sensors existing on their own private wavelength, discussing complicated subjects with a twitch of an eyebrow, a grunt in her throat, a slow tapping of their finger.

Then Junko rolled her head back. She looked directly at Nobutoshi. A chill prickled the back of his neck, and he whispered, "Junko? Is that... you?"

"You know what that's like. Right?" She asked-- it was her voice, her unmoving lips. "When the facts get hard to believe. That despite all the evidence, you can never quite match it up with the life that exists in your head."

'This is just a dream,' Nobutoshi reminded himself. And he asked again. "Junko, tell me it's you."

"I know the feeling well," someone solemnly calm said from behind Nobutoshi.

It took Nobu a moment to recognize the sound of his father's voice. It had been so long since he heard it even in his sleep. Junko had been looking at Jin, not Nobutoshi; sometimes he conjured her so vividly in his mind, he swore she was a spirit come to deliver some otherworldly message that only he could interpret. Alas, this was always his own overactive imagination...

"It's hard to believe that my wife passed away, though it's been years," the former Mist Hashira went on, an uncharacteristic display of open honesty. Nobutoshi's father never spoke more than five words to even his own son, unless the situation demanded it. And he never brought up the permanent mourning shrine that remained of Ishikawa Chihiro, the woman who had been caught by a demon only weeks before her son's Final Selection.

This did not mean his father wasn't kind. He was terse, yes, but a good man. Such a good man that when Jin had met Junko and Hinata, he refrained from saying anything remotely uncharitable about them. He simply saw them for what they were: Nobutoshi's comrades, his son's dear friends, fellow Slayers. They met at the Corps-aligned refuge that had once housed the expansive Ishikawa family; the family's numbers were far fewer, allowing the location to better serve general Demon Corps activity.

Recollection of the Ishikawa graves made it hard to breathe. Nobutoshi didn't want to go back to the cemetary. He willed with all his might that they stay away-- praying that for once, he could persuade his dreams to go his way.

Junko stood before helping Hinata up. The wisteria tree had multiplied and regressed, turning into the safety perimeter that existed outside the Ishikawa compound. This was a welcome sight: when the three Slayers had the fortune of working together, they would often spend their recovery periods at Nobutoshi's childhood home. "Finish your training," Jin commanded. He took only a few steps before stopping and looking back. Nobutoshi tried to put his father into terms that he could see: dark hair, sharp features, fox-like eyes, and thin lips. But these couldn't really ever define Ishikawa Jin, Nobutoshi's father, hero, and critic. He only remembered the man as the pinnacle of power. "Dinner in an hour."

Never more than five words, unless absolutely necessary.

The crows dotting along the rooftops honked and ruffled in greeting to each other. Hinata and Junko faced each other again, the former chancing a glance to Nobutoshi-- the latter struck, kicking her sparring partner's legs out from under them, sword to the throat, and the declaration made, "I win again."

"That's cheating! I wasn't ready!" But Hinata laughed, throwing up their arms and falling back into the grass dramatically.

"Which do you pick?"

"What?"

When Nobutoshi turned to his father, the scene had changed again-- it was spring, crisp and cold in the morning. He could see clouds of exhalation, but the two fighters, his only friends in the world, were frozen mid-lift; Junko smiled down at Hinata as though they shared some joke in this freezeframe. Jin looked irritated, and Nobutoshi flushed at the shame of forcing his father to repeat himself:

"To the coast. Which do you pick?" No wonder the sunbeams were so saturated, the harsh light so blinding and the colors so washed out. This was the day... "Hashira make hard decisions," his father said. "Pick one."

It felt like such an easy choice then. The Corps weren't even sure if the suspicious activity in such a rural ocean town was truly demonic in nature. It sounded like runaways. Like people fleeing a dying way of living so out in the sticks. Suggesting to send Junko, a Hashira, would have been overkill. Hinata, though, knew how to find the nocturnal monsters, to discern their behaviors and abilities. "Yasumoto Hinata," Nobutoshi said. "Send them to investigate the barge. And the other lower ranked Slayers, just in case."

That was the reasoning he told his father... and the truth. It was the truth. It just happened to work in Nobutoshi's favor that by sending Hinata away...

Nobutoshi glanced to the courtyard again and jumped-- Junko was standing right in front of him. No, he was in the courtyard now, his feet finally moving in slow, sluggish gestures to carry him where he wanted to be. Everyone else had vanished. He reached out for her hand. Her other one came up to cup his cheek and jaw, her smooth and round fingernails curled into his skin comfortably.

He wanted Hinata to go away, as dear as they were: he had wanted her to himself again. When he dipped his forehead into her shoulder she snorted and giggled-- giggled, God -- and nuzzled into his head in return. Was it so bad to want something for himself? To make a decision that felt sound and safe? Hinata could always keep her as a mentor and rival and soulmate, but Nobutoshi would make due with the bare minimum of her affections... he wanted to braid their lives together, but he could never ask her to pick between her values and him. He wasn't so cruel as his father. Maybe one day in the future, when demons had been cleaned off the face of the world, they could be married. But not until he helped her to usher in that new age.

A massive shadow disturbed the crows along the rooftop, a few fleeing to new perches; the caressing Slayers paused and looked skyward. Junko's raven, nearly twice the size of an albatross in dream logic, stopped its descent with a powerful beat of its wings before settling on the ground. It opened its mouth:

-----

Nobutoshi opened his eyes to an average-sized crow settling onto his knee, momentarily preening the feathers under its aqua bandana. The open-roof carriage hadn't yet reached its destination, and he had already received Tetsuya's confirmation. What could this message be? His messenger looked up to him and said, "For Ishikawa Nobutoshi, from Yoshiwara base. A communications blackout has been enforced for the next 72 hours. Personnel has been dismissed. I also have a personal message!"

His bird cracked its head both ways before making a series of hiccups and clicks with its throat and chest-- the rhythm, duration, and pause of each mimicking an encrypted code. One that Nobutoshi recognized immediately. It thrust him back to that day, staring out at the sea barge. Where he lost everyone he had to possibly lose.

The message translated to: Kizuki activity confirmed. Siege is underway. Hope you're almost done. Bring friends.

"Yasumoto! Damn it!" Nobutoshi stood and ran, abandoning the horse-drawn vehicle with a jostle from his harried leap. He had half a mind to abandon the deal altogether: to raise the alarm and summon another Hashira, 'bringing friends' so to speak... but then they would have questions. Why was he humoring the scheme, why had he sent his tsuguko with Yasumoto, why on Earth had he lifted Yasumoto's restrictions to begin with? No-- he had to get to Yoshiwara and settle this himself. He had slain Lower Ranks singlehandedly before, and this wouldn't be any different. Hinata had already begun moving their pieces: they were likely striving to break new ground several times before anyone could show up and stop them, forcing the rest of the Corps to follow through by holding their own life-- and the life of Tetsuya-- hostage. Nobutoshi's only mistake had been trusting Hinata, hoping their plan was a bluff or cry for attention; he didn't expect Hinata to put Junko's brother in such a dire situation.

When Hinata had first recommended the seige to Nobutoshi, the plan sounded so simple it was stupid: starve the demon by isolating it, determine the target's potential and ranking as Kizuki, then maintain a stalemate until reinforcements, refreshed and rested, came in for the killing blow. So much had happened so fast before Nobutoshi's walking headache made their proposal. The sudden disappearance of the Water Hashira, leading to another unexpected promotion within the ranks, Tetsuya's recent graduation, the complications in his training that arose... Hinata cornered him, armed this time with maps and reports of disappearances, the perimeter of a larger space carved out around Yoshiwara and a couple other areas.

"We'll create a power vacuum," Hinata had said, all shark-toothed smiles and broken-glass eyes. They argued that the Corps had been busy reacting to death counts-- graceless, as always-- then intoned there was a smart way to feed bodies to the ever-hungry war. (This was also a trick. If Nobutoshi struck Hinata for their blatant disregard, they would have touched for the first time in five years, though neither would be happy.) "If there is a Kizuki there, then we've already cleared the whole area out. We kill the Kizuki, we see what Kibutsuji does. We see what his minions do. If there's none there, then you get to lord it over me for all eternity."

Nobutoshi-- torn between his obligations to Ubuyashiki Rin, his failures to rear Tetsuya properly, exasperated by Hinata's preparedness-- gave in. He didn't truly think there was any suggestion of a Kizuki's presence, nor any demon's in such close proximity to a Corps base. Whatever Hinata wanted to do was null, and something as harmless as an extraction could be a good starting point for Tetsuya, if he too could parse the language of the wind and sense other living creatures. He had gambled on Hinata being either wrong or sensible; the odds should have been in his favor. Yoshiwara was much too populated... but then again, it took a cold-blooded, diabolical genius to seed oneself among their enemies. To take advantage of a false security and parasite off the belly of society.

The Demon Corps wasn't ready for an intensive operation like this.

No... Tetsuya wasn't ready. It was entirely too soon for him to be accompany someone like Hinata, no matter how proud Nobu was of the boy. Hinata wanted the mission to be a success. Nobutoshi could see that now in hindsight, and Tetsuya was so trusting with a heart of love and a mind of respect; he had yet to see fairy tales as anything but truth, and looked to his guardians like they held the world, skies, and stars. Such as the same caretaker who landed him in the line of danger.

The vague recollection of a memory tugged at the back of his mind, somehow connected to the dream he had, but he ignored it promptly. He no longer had the luxury to review the past; he had to keep his eyes forward for any and all potential danger. He would slay all the demon he could on his way, but his priority shifted: to return to his tsuguko's side and protect him from the real danger, the person Nobutoshi knew better than to trust. He had to contain this situation before anyone else caught wind of it.

-----

"What have you done?!" Tetsuya cried by way of hello. He swept his arm to the patch of destroyed land that ranged at least fifteen meters, the damage merely thinning further out. The mess was partially tidied up, courtesy of the kinoe's meddling; Hinata had already begun to break down the more thoroughly-destroyed trees and put them into man-made piles. The aforementioned Slayer was taking a break, their kimono robe parted at the front to expose more of the shirt underneath-- and the belted pouches attached to their torso.

They had been staring ahead, gazing over their construction site before stirring. Rather than face their scolding, they raised a hand. Their fingers twitched, stretched, and curled-- Tetsuya didn't know what that was about. He stamped across the clearing to his too-calm companion. "Look at this place! And right off the path, where anyone can notice. This isn't covert! Have you lost your mind, Yasumoto?!"

The yelling brought no satisfaction or reaction. Tetsuya almost wished his company would try and fight back in this instance. In fact, there was a pause as Yasumoto straightened their spine, looking upon all their current project. "Hey Tetsu," they replied, nonplussed. "This works alright, I suppose. The weather has been beautiful. Maybe we'll see campers." As though they hadn't just committed the greatest faux pas known to the Demon Corps by making a public display. "Hey, did Nobu ever teach you those hand signs? Nonverbal commands can come in handy if we ever need to be quiet somewhere--"

"No! This is terrible!" Tetsuya interrupted, refusing to be distracted. "Has anyone happened by yet?"

"One or two. But they didn't see me." Yasumoto curled forward, wrenching a basic hand-sized hatchet from the log next to them.

"Where did you get that?"

Hinata glanced down to the item before setting it aside. "... Borrowed it."

Unbelievable. Tetsuya slapped his hands over his face and groaned into them, praying to a distant Nobutoshi that he rendezvous with them soon. "I can't believe this."

"It's fine," Yasumoto said simply. Tetsuya removed his hands from his eyes so he could narrow them at the other Slayer. Only then did he get a good look at them: their face, their languid body language, the rip in the front of their clothes and how the fabric there seemed... crunchier.

"Are you okay?"

"Look," Hinata coaxed. "I brought you food." Not addressing the question at all. Instead, they presented him with a little purchased bento box, not some scavenged or hunted thing that Hinata had brought down like a disobedient cat. When Tetsuya's eyes flicked back up, Hinata had returned to their stolen hatchet and the project, shrugging the kimono off so that it hung off of them by their belted waist. One-handed, they resumed chopping wood into smaller pieces with surprising efficiency and speed.

Tetsuya sat down on the felled tree next to where the other Demon Slayer had been. "Maybe you should eat something too." Or sleep. He wondered how much trouble that demon had been as he slowly split his chopsticks and began to eat. There was no ignoring the state his supervisor was in. With their salt-and-pepper hair framing their jawline, the dark lines around their eyes (and the suitcases beneath those) were all the more pronounced. Their back muscles flexed and rippled, but in some strange springing way that made Tetsuya worry he would hear something crack or tear. As the Slayer worked, sighing and stretching, Tetsuya tried to recall if Hinata had always looked this tired. And then, as though Hinata had read his mind, they tilted their head his way and smiled. It returned them to some of their former rumpled loveliness, but Tetsuya couldn't be convinced.

They casually sauntered closer again. "You escorted the target out of town, right?" Once again, evading the question. If anything, Hinata looked past Tetsuya, passing the hatchet carefully to their prosthetic, and their able hand stretched to take the saddle bag from the boy's shoulders so he could eat unencumbered.

"Yes," said Tetsuya uneasily.

"Good. The next step in the plan is underway now."

"Plan? What plan?"

"Siege operation," they stated.

"A siege?" Tetsuya tried to comprehend, gripping his utensil a little too tightly. "Why?"

Hinata was slow to respond, jostling the bag to rifle around the supplies. "Good!" False enthusiasm? "You've brought it all. We can set up the fires outside of the city limits, though it's only a precaution. Driving demons further into society is a possibility, but with you here, that possibility is reduced."

"Hold on," and Hinata did, pausing in their preparations. "What happened to that demon? Back then."

Hinata leaned back-- Tetsuya felt a wash of cold water down his back as they eyed him. Not with disdain toward a mere child here to slow things down, but with acute wariness when faced with a possible danger. A weak point. After looking down on him, Hinata's eyes slid away.

"I have confirmed the presence of one of the Twelve Kizuki," they stated as though scripted. "In compiling my report on his abilities, I failed to terminate him before sunrise. As such, he ran into the red light district--" The lunch fell from Tetsuya's hands as he stood abruptly. "Oh damn. Your food--"

"We need to stop him," Tetsuya declared, already reaching for his sword.

"I can no longer track him," Yasumoto said, patience infinite in this exhausted mindset, apparently. "As things stand, we have your Hashira's permission to proceed, Tetsu. We reinforce a barricade and reduce the afflicted area, locating and killing Gyutaro if the opportunity arises. Most of all, we have to weaken him."

Gyutaro. Even the name was viscerally greedy, taunting and luring, and Tetsuya's weak knees couldn't bear his disgust with Yasumoto. He fell back into his seat, not quite struck into compliance. More like numbness. Whether they named the demon or asked it for its input, it didn't matter to Tetsuya. Either one felt inconceivable.

Yasumoto finally chanced sitting with Tetsuya, setting the bag down by their feet to rifle through its contents. "These wisteria blossoms and oils will help make a smoke blockade. There's a regular supply in town too, for courtesans' perfumes and such. I made sure getting more in large quantities wouldn't draw too much attention."

"You..." Tetsuya's mind floundered in panic. He failed to formulate his incriminaton properly, "You let it go! You didn't even catch it for the sun to burn it up! That monster could be anywhere, eating anyone." To have allowed a demon to flee to safety was beyond low. It was practically fraternizing. An act of mercy like that could cost lives and Yasumoto's stupid obsession had caused a landslide of terror.

Yasumoto tidied Tetsuya's fallen lunch, too restless to sit still under judgement. "It may make no difference, but I doubt I could have killed him. He was more likely to murder me instead. He's nowhere near the threshold of his power either; his fighting abilities are beyond any demon I've encountered yet. His Blood Demon Art is incredible. I don't think he was expecting us or else he wouldn't have engaged combat so near sunrise... and he clearly hides out somewhere around here."

"So you let him run?" They had yet to fight any of his accusations-- all they could offer was excuses.

"He was too fast for me to catch," they said, as if explaining a simple concept to a dumb kid, "and I needed to collect information on him so that we could prepare accordingly. I needed to live another day to tell you. His close-range is impeccable and he made a perfect home for himself, with magnificent camoflague and readily available humans. We can't reject the possibility of a den--" a den?! Of demons?! "-- or of communication to their leader. Twelve Kizuki operate as their own isolated pockets of chaos and death, but there is always the possibility." A beat. "To put it simply: things are going to get dicey."

Tetsuya, mute, watched as Hinata talked helplessly on about demons, the dark cloud surrounding them seeming to clear a little. "We know Gyutaro is local and we know his food source. I know his face and his voice. I know how it feels when he moves," which Tetsuya could have gone without knowing, "and the siege is set up to give us field advantages: it weakens the target before reinforcements arrive and serves as a small countermeasure if we should fail."

"All of this is so complex."

"Welcome to the front lines," Yasumoto said. "Hashira only arrive when the threat has been proven to be too much, after we've lost scores of Slayers."

"What I mean is," Tetsuya criticized, "this puts civilians at risk, doesn't it?"

"They're always at risk. This improves the chances of a successful kill, and if we can accomplish murdering Gyutaro before Nobu arrives, all the better for everyone else."

Tetsuya wondered, not for the first time, why exactly Nobutoshi sent him along with Yasumoto. Was this what his Hashira wanted him to learn? The struggles of those who scout the area? The ground-laying of a future battlefield? Was he supposed to question the leadership and guidance of his superior, by all rights a pariah and menace, to this degree?

"We'll also be in a communications blackout," Yasumoto announced. "At this point, our cover is as compromised as Gyutaro's. We cannot assume we're safe during the day either. From now on, the scheme calls for commitment to the siege. We close the noose around the demon's throat and murder him if we can."

Murder. Tetsuya couldn't keep ignoring it. He wished they would stop. "Alright," he groaned, relenting. "Alright. I'll send a letter to Nobutoshi and--"

"The blackout is already in effect. I sent all the crows away, and the Demon Corps base is on lockdown. We'll only find the head doctor and administrator there."

"Why?!" Tetsuya hollered. Acting first and answering questions later only made things more difficult, and it was something adults especially found most convenient when they didn't feel the need to explain themselves. Tetsuya hadn't had any expectations but felt betrayed anyway. "You can't do that!"

Yasumoto blinked slowly. "I can. And I did. I was in town and we aren't going to be utilizing the Ubuyashiki facilities anyway. The wisteria emblem is innocuous enough, but the Kizuki are notoriously clever. If he gets even a whiff of the Ubuyashiki's involvement, Gyutaro will be all over us, Tetsu."

"Stop calling me that." Tetsuya seethed. His righteousness must've wounded them, because they faltered.

"Sure... but that doesn't change the fact that we are in his territory. So long as he doesn't suspect the reverse, we have our connection to reinforcements."

Tetsuya heard out Yasumoto's plan: the older Demon Slayer certainly had a way of scheming. Of imagining what they would do if their heart were a little more rotten, their intentions a little more misaligned. It was hard to tell how much of this planning was a healthy wariness of death and how much was a twisted projection. There was so much to do. And it was so unorthodox: "This isn't right," was all Tetsuya could say in response. "You should have killed him. You should have tried to kill him or died trying, whether there was a demon nest or not. You don't know how many people he will hurt."

Yasumoto looked at Tetsuya with curiosity. "I can't do that." The silver ring around that empty pit of a pupil made the boy look away, disappointed that Yasumoto's cravings came before their integrity.

Tetsuya couldn't do anything about it now. He was here, and here he would be until the Demon Corps sent reinforcements, or until his Hashira returned to him. He simply sat and stared at his lap until Yasumoto crouched in front of him, a second lunch in their hands. An offering. Supplication.

"Hey," they murmured. "That's how I plan to kill the demon. Now it's your turn."

"My turn?" What did it matter? He was used to being spoken over. Though a tsuguko, he was still only a child. That's all anyone would see him as.

"I kill demons. That's what I do best." Hinata rested their hand on the boy's head, hesitantly, then comfortably when he did not flinch away. An unspoken apology, followed by a request for forgiveness: "You tell me: what do we do to save people?"

Tetsuya didn't want to look at the kinoe, but did want to be taken seriously, so he made his price firm: "We stay in the district. We patrol, and we do it covertly. We don't threaten or hurt anyone else. And if we see anything, we intervene."

"Whoof," Hinata exhaled. But then they mussed his hair, raking their nails a little too hard into his scalp. "You drive a hard bargain. Okay. We need to narrow down parts of Yoshiwara anyway, to carve up hunting grounds--," their hand lifted again when Tetsuya's expression stoned over, and they decided not to babble.

"You promise," Tetsuya was suddenly hopeful, "Promise you'll protect whatever person needs protecting."

Tetsuya couldn't explain the sensation that followed. Nor could he parse the blankness that flickered across Hinata's features, as if something had just gone click! in their head. It was only when they said "I promise" that Nobutoshi's warning came flooding back into Tetsuya's mind-- had he messed up? What had just been agreed upon?

Adding onto that... what was this heaviness? It was full-bodied: his skull felt leaden, his stomach felt knotted, and his heart felt repulsive. 'Not mine,' he realized-- there was a strange distinction, the fabric of which felt different than 'Tetsuya.' This was a relief: he couldn't imagine being this haggard himself. But then, what was it? Was he sick, fatigued, both? Had Hinata somehow robbed Tetsuya of his hopefulness? He squirmed in his seat, slouched, and sighed.

"Here," they said distractedly, pushing the food into Tetsuya's hands before gathering up their inventory with ease. "You can have mine. Then get some sleep. You need more rest than I do: and this time, use Total Concentration Breathing. No gasps or interruptions. Your practical lessons could use more honing, but don't tell Nobu I said that."

"What about you," Tetsuya asked. "Don't you need to eat?"

"I had a dumpling earlier," as if that could replace an entire two meals.

And despite his wariness, general distrust, and lack of understanding, Tetsuya's stomach ached at the thought of theirs being empty. "We can share this," he insisted, "You need to be in shape too."

Hinata stood and smiled-- and this one reached their eyes. It changed them, still jagged at the edges and down to their core, but rather than having a knife aimed at him, Tetsuya felt armed and ready; he was relieved that Hinata was on his side, after all.

"I ought not fill up yet. There's more to do, and hard work builds an even greater appetite. Don't worry, Tetsuya. I won't let you down."

[letsgomaybe]

Doctor Who The Giggle

60th anniversary in the bag!

I enjoyed that the whole thesis of this is the Doctor finally reckoning with all the pain he has. Because it's true, he usually runs away or if he does take a break, it seems like he takes the first excuse he can find to distract himself.

The episode did enjoy bringing up loads of past stories, which did get a little tiresome toward the end. But the summary of the Moffat-era companions for Donna was quite good. "Well that's all right then!" Lots of companions had not-quite-deaths.

It was interesting that the two games that were played were extremely simple. I like it. The Doctor knew that he couldn't win by being "the smartest man in the room." So while imo the catch game was a little weird and anticlimactic, it made sense.

I'm surprised that the revised bi-generation leak didn't end up being accurate. The one where 15 was pulled from the moment of 14's actual regeneration in the future. Maybe the leaker got that from 15's line that he's mentally healthier because 14 ends up doing the work, and that therapy goes out of order.

For some reason I'm more okay with bi-generation having actually seen it. I think it's because they made it look like mitosis lol. And THIS is why 14 wasn't wearing 13's clothes; they were weird special clothes that would split along with the bi-generation! Maybe! Also this means that 14 was going commando for the entire last act.

I'm still super cynical about how they probably did this so they could get another show with Tennant. Hopefully that never happens. But I still wonder what will happen when 14 dies? It'll probably be that 15 took all the regenerations lol.

Someone on reddit pointed out that they used the "Last Christmas" score in Wild Blue Yonder when the Doctor and Donna were talking about if he was all right. And they used it again here!! Ugh, I love that score. I haven't watched Last Christmas since it first aired but I've listened to that track many times (I should watch it again this Christmas!). If I remember, the story was about slowing down and appreciating the relationships you have, which is what The Giggle is about too! "Every Christmas is last Christmas" :,)

I said somewhere that I would do unspeakable things if they used the Heaven Sent score again. Which they didn't (yet), thank goodness. I thought I heard a few notes of it as they were arriving at UNIT, but it was so few that it was probably just a passing similarity.

I felt so vindicated when 15 pointed out that the TARDIS needs a chair!! Yes, it always needs chairs! But I don't see one in your TARDIS yet, 15, only a jukebox!!

If I had a nickel for every time a mysterious hand picked up a small item that contained the Master, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice. And where is that hand even coming from, it's right on the edge of the helipad!

David did a great job at portraying the Doctor as someone who had the extra ~1000 years (or billions, depending on who you ask) after 10. I think the face came back because 10 was the one who lived for the shortest amount of time, and 10 was the most scared of change and "letting go." If the Doctor's going to heal, it's this personality that needs to do it. Or else it won't stick.

I'm so excited for Ncuti Gatwa. The Giggle was the ending to the 2005 show, which is so weird to think about. I didn't expect it to do that--I thought that the "season 1" renumbering would be pretty arbitrary. But I like that it ended. I never expected feel a sense of closure from Doctor Who, but it's there.

On to Christmas!

[alphabetcrashcourse]

AOT Live Text Reaction

I've decided to post a live text reaction to AOT now that I'm watching it after it finished releasing. Up to episode six, here are my thoughts so far:

Everyone in this show apart from the main characters is really, really dumb. You are being actively hunted by immortal zombies you know NOTHING about. Sure you have your Big Wall-onii san to protect you, but you also have a growing population and dwindling resources. There is no excuse to sit on your hands for a hundred years. You don't even have to fight the monsters! Just go out there and study them! Invest in being FAST! In running AWAY!

Idk what on earth happened a hundred yeara ago, but my bet is that these idiots in charge somehow caused it and most definitely deserve whatever's coming to them.

Eren: He gives me weird vibes, like he's constantly angry or on edge. He seems more desperate than the average protagonist. Not even after his mom being nommed, (which was horrifying by the way, that kinda trauma CAN turn a kid into a sociopath- Eren turned out okay, all things considered.) But before that as well, he was running around trying ro make everyone see reason at age like ten, and HE was treated as the weird one.

Also he doesn't smile much, like I could count on one hand how many times he smiled in episode 5.

Mikasa: Honey. Get a new goal in life, he's not interested. Like I get that it's probably not strictly romantic interest on her part, he's the only family she has left so of COURSE she wants to protect him. That being said Eren does NOT feel the same. Hell, I'm getting the vibe that the only reason he listens to her is because she's stronger than him. Also she seem's to be the studio's favourite. All her scenes are more fluid and detailed.

I want her to grow to have more goals and interests.

Armin: He's ypur typical 3rd cowardly character. The show keeps insisting he's smart but the bar for these characters is low so my hopes aren't high. Like an example of him being smart was the curiosity to SEE OUTSIDE. And somehow that was a novel idea. But he does this weird sense of pride that comes from seemingly nowhere, it makes him interesting.

I want him to stop being a coward. But NOT in a self-sacrificial way.

ONTO THE REACTION!

Op still slaps.

I like the part where they all jump up together, and that Jaeger means hunter and is Eren's last name.

Oh so Eren is just dead. Congrats Armin on becoming the new main character! Ha. Good luck.

LESBIANS! This show has lesbians! Is this confirmed or is it just anime being anime?

See, this is the weird pride I was talking about.

Hate the wagon guy.

WHY IS THAT TITAN SO FAST?!?!

Oh Mikasa great! Kill this guy.

She seems so proud of herself for helping the citizens. Maybe fulfilling her dury will beco.e her new ambition and she'll get over Eren. Hopefully that arcs happens fast, before she finds out he's dead...

Mikasa backstory? Maybe SHE'S our new protagonist

Oh yeah what did happen to Eren's dad- OH DAMN HER PARENTS DEAD!

Look here, this is what I mean. This is not the face a normal 10yo kid would make, like this is an abnormal situation but an ordinary kid would NOT react like that.

Oriental? So is this a magical kidnapping or a racist kidnapping? Just trying to figure out what to be angry about.

Oh damn Mikasa's mum is UNHINGED!

Oh so baby Eren is psychopath CONFIRMED.

Awww, Mikasa has her mum's crazy~

The scarf!! From the ending!!

Okay yeah they're cute, I see the ship. But at the same time this pivotal moment in Mikasa's life was originally motivated by anger, desperation and finally pity on Eren's end.

Oh yeah Eren's still dead.

And that's the episode!

SO glad I didn't get too attached to Mikasa. You aren't gonna get me that easily show!