#found this in my draft folder and decided to post

[chasing-posts]

Miraculous Ladybug Vlog: Crocoduel

Season 4, Episode 9

This is an episode with the good, the bad, and hands down the best costume the show has ever designed.

The. Drip. Is. Real.

So the episode starts off on Juleka's and Luca's amazing houseboat with Kitty Section playing the one and only song they actually know. It's not a bad song so I won't complain but you think the kids would try jamming to something else by now. For some reason Adrian is not there despite being a part of the band, and Marinette's not there for reasons the show inaccurately makes Luca state.

"Marinette's not coming around because she knows I love her."

This is downright incorrect. It's not about her knowing his feelings, it's because they broke up! If the show wants to recount old events, I'd prefer if they did it accurately.

What's even weirder is that once Luca leaves after hearing Rose's cover up, the show misses the opportunity to use Zoe to get across some needed exposition for those who missed the first episode. Please remember that Zoe wasnt there for the break up and shouldn't know anything about the history in the friend group because she just got there. So she could ask questions like "why wouldn't Marinette come because of him?" followed by an explanation

If you're going to introduce a new character, use them to your advantage! JUST BECAUSE SHE'S CHLOE'S REPLACEMENT DOES NOT MEAN SHE KNOWS WHAT CHLOE DOES BECAUSE SHE WASN'T THERE! THIS ACTUALLY WOULD HAVE BEEN A GOOD WAY TO UTILIZE ZOE.

Though this creates another issue, that being that if Marinette's to embarressed to see Luca, than why did she bring Zoe to one of his music parties to introduce her to the group?

ALSO LUCA AND JULEKA ARE TWINS?! WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN? For two seasons the show made it look like Luca was maybe a year or two older. Is this a retcon or just poor writing?

(just kidding. We all know it's both.)

Now at one point I was going to complain about the friends pressing Juleka to bring Marinette to the party. Or maybe them budding in and forcing Marinette to meet with Luca before she was comfortable, all of which is overstepping and rude... but then Rose kissed Juleka's cheeks and my negative emotions just...vanished. So I'll give it a pass due to them being the most lovely couple in the show.

I do like the scene with Marinette and Alya That Marinette quickly puts the plan together, how Trix and Alya interact. We also also, get confirmation that the magical charms can be given at any time and the victim does not have to be akumatized recently. Meaning she could give Luca a charm right away (and probably should do so for all Miraculous holders) and they would all be protected from Hawkmoth, giving them a strategic advantage for the time being.

However this scene does give way to another continuity error, when Marinette says:

"He got akumatized twice because of me." This is outright untrue. The first time Luca got akumatized was because of Bob the producer when he stole from his band. The second was in Truth when she refused to be honest with him.

"Continuity? Never heard of her." -Thomas Astruc, probably.

The next day, Marinette decides to make one of the most selfish requests she's ever made, and she asks Juleka to disinvite her own twin from their shared birthday party.

This is one of the most selfish, narcissistic, and disgusting requests I have ever heard from a fictional character. If it any other character from Miraculous Ladybug asked this, they would have been disowned from the friend group on the spot. I hate that Marinette can get away with this trash behavior, just because she's the main character. Maybe that's why they have her hiding behind a trashcan while she talks to Juleka. It's a visual representation of what the character is in this moment in time. And I don't care that she ends up apologizing later, she never should have done this in the first place.

The next scene involves her telling Luca while Jagged Stone makes an entrance, and the whole thing with Jagged Stone being their father is so clumsily done. There was not enough build up to it, and now his sudden want to be in his childrens lives make him look like a deadbeat, and father being kept from his kids simultaneously. It's really hard to tell what the real story between Anarka and Jagged is because the details we recieve, and both parents actions truly are telling two to three different stories!

Then the day of the party arrives and it's clear just how badly everyone has been treating Juleka. Everyone was trying to use her for their own wants and pulled her in so many directions, that she's reduced to tears in her own birthday. The only one who showed her any concen before she burst was Luca. And after he sees how badly his sister and Marinette reacted, he quickly put the situation together and was too sad to follow and comfort his sister.

(Also it may be a small detail, but I like how Luca and Jagged have the same way of calming down. When they get frustrated/ angry/ sad, they start strumming the guitar.)

And so begins the chronicles of Gabriel's failures. Were he tries a total of four times to akumatize someone, and just keeps messing up.

Luka is saved through the power of friendship

Marinette apologizes to Juleka for her impossible and selfish request. Allowing the two to make up.

Gabriel for some reason, thought Surprise" counted as a negative emotion. (because he's a moron)

And the final and most interesting shot, is when he witnesses Juleka and Jagged Stone's convesation.

To expand on point four and to give context, Juleka thought Jagged Stone only wanted to be around for Luca. She thought her father only loved her twin and that she was a mere oversight that freaked him out (as shown earlier in the episode, when he accidentally ignored her and jumped when he noticed her. But that was actually because she is just so quiet he didn't realize she was in the room with him.) and this thought seemed confirmed when it appeared Luca was getting an expensive bass from her father, and she was going to receive nothing, or a very lack luster gift in comparison.

However, it turns out the bass is actually for Juleka. Jagged learned they played bass and as a sentimental gift wanted to give her the first one he ever had. This is a huge moment for them because it shows that not only is Jagged NOT a deadbeat, but that he truly is trying to reconcile with both children. That he loves them, wants to share in their interests, be a legit part of their lives and recognizes that he was gone too long, and wants to make up for it.

This is very interesting because it mirrors Gabrial's relationship with Adrian. Supposedly, Gabriel "loves" his son Adrian, but he's hes been distant for years. Even before Emily's death. He's only been giving Adrian the same pen for the last three years, and in a way, his distance can be compared to Jagged Stone, who was also a distant/ nonexistent father until recently.

But the difference is Jagged is trying. ANd Gabriel feels that. He just felt through his own powers the reconciling and emotional bond these two formed in front of his own eyes. And afterwards there's no immediate monologue. Or disappointed gester like his last three failures, but almost... sad. Like if this was a good writer on board, they might have him silently reflecting on his own strained fther son relationship, and how literally this "dead beat rocker" just made more of an effort to be there for his kids in less than one hour, than he has for an entire year! Maybe longer.

Which maybe is why he makes a very irrational decion, when he finally has the chance to successfully akumatize Anarka and Jagged.

Did seeing what a good father Jagged was trying to be make him jealous? Did he intentionally or subconsciously allow Jagged and his ex to fight because it made him feel inadequate? There is no rational or logical reason to akumatize two people and have them fight each other, when his goal is to acquire the miraculous. If anything, it would make it more difficult would just tear the two apart. This was a horrible plan.

Chat Noir saving the day XD♡ I never thought I'd see it! Ladybug not doing so well until he arrived... I think this is the first episode that ever happened!!!

Luka knows what Ladybug is about to do. He KnNOWS he's about to make his sister a Miraculous holder... I'm sure he's surprised his help wasn't asked. But also, I kinda wish there was a moment with Adrian and Luca after he sees Luca's shocked face like... just a hand on his back or shoulder. Adrian doesn't give out the Miraculous' so he can't decide who/when Ladybug chooses someone. But he does KNOW Luca is the snake holder. He was the one he chose after all.

Oh fuck... Juleka's transformation, and outfit is SO cool... she might have the best costume in the show.

Pole dance to safety you two!!!

Actually this was one of the few episodes made and done tight so when a new Miraculous user is introduced, Chat Noir works WITH the new user and Ladybug as a great trifecta, instead of being over shadowed/ made to make mistakes.

And I said this before, if Adrian is good in the episode, the episode is good with me.

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED BETWEEN ANARKA AND JAGGED? This was big fight, something clearly went down between them but one yell from Juleka was enough for them to stop? THIS SHOW SUCKS AT PACING AND NOW I REALLY KNOW WHAT THE STORY WAS BECAUSE IT WAS BIG ENOUGH FOR THEM TO SPLIT UP AND BECOME A SINGLE PARENT UNTIL NOW. WHEN JAGGED CLEARLY LOVES THEIR KIDS AND WANTS TO BE A PART OF THEIR LIVES. PROBABLY DID FROM THE BEGINNING. WHAT. HAPPENED?!

Luca: You should tell Adrian how you feel... because I sure hella can't.

That said I love Luca and Marinette becoming friends. He's such a sweet boy open to his feelings. I love it.

Opinion of this ep as a whole: mixed!!!

[unofficial-underfell]

Hey guys, I've been thinking about making this post for a long time and I think its finally time I do so. After realizing that some of my last work was done over a year ago, I don't think I can really ignore it anymore. While I haven't quite thrown in the towel on this quite yet, it's pretty evident to me and I'm sure to everyone who still follows this blog that my fervor for the project has drastically decreased. And has been kind of dead for a while. The comic has not been a priority to me, or posting online much at all actually. I did some soul searching and found that I'd started relying on outside approval for my art instead of doing art for the sake of wanting to tell a story and express myself throughout my work. I have limited energy and depression and sometimes it feels like i get such little progress done even though it takes all of my energy. While I'm trying to go to the gym more and build better habits my energy levels and mood still have a lot to be desired, and I'd rather use the limited energy I have to work on something I'm more passionate about.

I've been trying to grow my skills and absorb more stories and I've moved around a lot and started to listen to what I really felt, and I found that a lot of the art I want to focus on deals with heavier and more mature topics. I do love this story, and all of the characters and I feel like I could make a really clever subversion of what is expected from an Underfell comic. But I feel like in these uncertain times with the world and with all of the stuff going on right now, I'd like to use my energy to work on stories that hit closer to the things that I feel are important. So that's why I've not been posting much.

I'm working on a book, and I've actually got quite a lot of progress done on it, but because of all the horror stories online about people stealing author's original works, I'm kind of holding off on publishing any chapters before I can copyright the first draft of the novel. So my online activity will still be pretty scarce for a bit, though I'll still post occasionally on my @cosmicpixel01 account. I'll try better to not be so radio silent though lol. Even if that means I'll post something boring about my dog or books I'm reading just so everyone knows I'm still alive.

I don't want to call it quits on the story. But I also feel like you guys have been kept waiting to see what happens for a really long time, and that makes me feel so guilty. I will try to finish up the pages I have in the works, and I'm probably going to switch to a different format that is some drawings, some writing to finish the story. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to finish it the way I intended for you guys, even with all of the support and kind words and even the fanart that I've kept in a folder on my desktop. I am letting a lot of you down, but I feel like the radio silence is probably more irresponsible than just going out and saying something. And I'm sorry I've kept you all waiting for a not-so-happy update on the blog.

I hope that some of you will continue to follow me for some of my other exploits and see whatever other things I have going on, but I understand that you all followed me for Undertale so I don't want you to feel any sort of guilt if you decide not to. I'm just happy you all supported me for so long.

I'll try to work on this blog again soon, and if anyone has any questions, my asks are open, though I'll probably keep the asks private. Until then I hope everyone stays safe out there. And from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

-Avery

[fumekara]

MORE THAN ANYTHING 

Kento Nanami x Gn reader 

n/a: English is not my first language, besides, this Fic comes from a draft taken some time ago. I hope you enjoy it. It is my first time back to writing in a long time. 

Tw: Just pure fluff and soft sfw, I would like to specify that this post does not contain any type of sexual content. The title is inspired by HH's song. 

WC: 1.1K

That night you could not fall asleep.

After turning yourself several times on the sheets of the bed, on which you had lain a couple of hours before, you looked at the half-open door through which a dim light filtered from the living room, giving the bedroom a thread of light in the darkness of the night.

You hoped your man would decide to drop the papers and paperwork he often brought home from work and come to bed with you, wrapping you in his arms so you could finally sleep in complete bliss as you usually did.

"I'll be right with you, it won't take long," he had told you when you proposed to sleep with him after you both went through a long day at work.

However, this was one of those evenings when Kento would spend hours on the kitchen table filling out paperwork late into the night. Although he hated office work, he was always diligent and meticulous when it came to completing his tasks.

It was a characteristic that made you feel proud of the man you loved, yet no matter how responsible and careful he was in managing his time and energy, you were sure he was beginning to place less importance on his rest. You wanted so much for him to give up those silly practices and take the rest he deserved.

After staring at the ceiling for an hour, you sat on your side of the bed, shivering from the sudden cold due to the lack of blankets, and looking at the bedside table you saw that 00:50 was written on the screen. And even today he worked late 

You got up and, making as little noise as possible, took small steps towards the living room.

Kento was writing something on his laptop, surrounded by a pile of papers divided into folders of various kinds lit by the light of the monitor and the lamp you kept in the corner of the kitchen.

He noticed your presence and gave you a small, tired smile, giving your heart some warmth.

"Are you still awake, love?" He asked as he leaned against the back of the chair.

"I could tell you the same thing," you replied a little sleepily, returning the smile and moving closer to the blond. As sorry as you are that he was exhausted from work, you couldn't help but think about how handsome he was. Even though you'd been together for a few years, the love you felt for this man had always had that effect on you. I've been waiting for you,' you said, heading towards him. 

You sit on his lap and he wraps his big arms around you, you notice that the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up and show off his forearms, something he always did when he came home. Leaning his head on your shoulder and inhaling deeply, he loses himself in your scent and warmth. Suddenly all the tiredness he had put aside to work on his papers came over him like a wave of a stormy sea, but the fact that you were there with him gave him a feeling of comfort.

He always felt at home with you. 

"I'm sorry Y/N". He rubbed his head in the crook of your neck "I was late again without me noticing" he said, planting a chaste kiss on an exposed spot on your shoulder.

Gently you brushed his hair back with one hand, while with the other you closed the laptop he was working on just now, making it clear that it was time for him to take the rest he so richly deserved.

"Come to sleep, Kento, it's not good for you to stay here late and I miss you," you said as you rested your head on his soft hair on your cheek.

"I know, you're right," he lifted his chin, placing a kiss on your neck, "I don't like leaving you alone either."

Lifting your head slightly, you turned to stare at him, touching his cheek lovingly as you looked intently into his eyes.

Pure love

You couldn't have found any other words to describe the way he looked at you whenever you were in situations like this, alone, with no one else to interrupt you, without Gojo, just the two of you. He made you feel loved, important, and you often thought back to the moment you realized you had fallen in love with him.

As a result, Nanami couldn't understand how he could have you in his life, how lucky he was to have you and how much he regretted making you go through nights like this when he left you alone. He felt selfish and the only thing he wanted at that moment was to go to bed and wrap you in his arms with your head against his chest. 

You remained in that position for a long time, a wonderful feeling for both of you. He placed his face on yours and then gave you a kiss on the cheek savoring the aroma.

Without saying anything, you got up from his lap, took his hand without taking your eyes off his and, after switching off the lights, slowly guided him towards your shared bedroom.

"I'm sorry I don't spend much time with you," he said as he shed his work clothes, "I don't want you to stay up because of me, but I appreciate you doing so." After slipping into his sweatpants, he settled next to you in bed as you wrapped him with the quilt.

"You don't have to apologize for working so hard, you have done and are doing a great job. I just want you not to overdo the work, everyone deserves a break and you especially." After turning off the lights you lie down beside him and feel him encircling your waist with his arm "Don't think you are being mean to me Kento, you always do so much for me, you show me that every day and remind me every time you look at me." 

In the darkness you could glimpse his small smile that made your heart melt.

"Come here," he told you as he felt butterflies in his stomach, as if he had managed to fall in love with you even more than before.

More than anything. 

You felt his grip envelop you even more as you brought faces closer and met lips in a chaste, soft, pure kiss. 

When you pulled away, you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes.

"I love you Y/N."

"I love you too, darling." 

You both fell asleep wrapped in bliss.

[tenkasato]

Choose Me Again

Hello! Here's the Akashi-centric oneshot I promised for the longest time. It's been sitting in my drafts folder for more than 3 years. So I decided to just upload it, for what it's worth. It's quite long, but I thought it'd be better to post it in one post rather than per chapter. Warning: IT'S A MAMMOTH, but I hope you guys would hold on til the end of it. Without further ado, here it goes...

The first time he met you was when he went over to his favorite tea shop in the suburbs. It was a small place situated at the corner of the street.

The interior was designed with newspaper clips of its successful endeavours. The photos of famous celebrities in black and white pinned onto cork boards were memoirs of the once high-end tea house. The sole source of light was the dimming bulb by the corner, and the rest was shed by the afternoon sun.

You, like he, were a rare sight.

You wore a wrinkled and faded high school uniform. Your tie was a little crooked. Your long tresses were tousled and gathered into a messy bun. Your lips were pursed, eyebrows knitted in concentration. A lotus crest was embroidered on your blazer, one that he couldn't recognize.

Before he could saunter over to his usual seat, he found himself walking towards you. You looked up the moment he came to view, demeanour cautious and intrigued.

"Hi."

"Hello."

Polite smiles were exchanged.

"I haven't seen you around here.”

He lowered his eyes to the vacant seat in front of you with a silent question.

"Can't say the same to you," you replied with a grin as you gestured for him to sit. "I work back there with the dishes so I don't go out and meet the customers."

He raised his eyebrows and nodded with a low hum. That explained why your sleeves were pushed up to the level of your elbows. You shrugged, unbothered, and returned back to what you were busy with before he interrupted. Sketches of faceless women clad in formal dresses were scattered around the round table. Eraser dusts were everywhere.

“Why do you always come to this place? It’s full of old people and it smells like incense.”

While most of his peers went to KTVs, arcades and malls, he preferred quiet places like these. It was no wonder he caught your eyes. A young man fresh from school in his white blazers looked odd and out of place.

“You’ve been watching?”

You shook your head with a chuckle, the motion letting loose some strands from her bun.

“I like observing people.”

The second time you met, he finally asked your name. And he told you his.

“Akashi Seijuro, hmmm.”

His name rolled on your tongue like candy. Not the excessively sweet one, but the type that leaves a gentle aftertaste in the mouth. He liked hearing his name with your voice.

He waited for your eyes to widen, to pause, to shrink back under his stare. A renowned surname like his seemed to have that kind of effect on others. His family was influential in terms of politics and business. It was a double-edged sword. One that struck fear and respect from his classmates.

But you simply nodded. Perhaps you weren't aware.

That was his notion until you spoke again.

"Must be tough to be under pressure all the time." You spun your pencil with your fingers, the twirls and tumbles mesmerizing him for a bit. "No wonder you frequent this shabby stall for some breathers."

"You've come to quite an interesting conclusion.”

"I'm not wrong, am I?"

He wondered if you were good at reading people because you drew expressions well. Melancholy in a smile so wide. Apprehension hidden behind closed eyes. Ranges of emotion in supposedly expressionless animals. Your hands worked craftily with just a pencil.

How would you draw him?

Curious, he asked you.

“I don't know.”

And he left it at that, despite wanting to ask why. It was hard to understand someone like him that even he couldn't fully comprehend what he truly was. He looked at himself in the mirror everyday. He still had the same face, the same lips and cheeks. But with a look closer, his image would rattle, shift and shatter. It made his left eye throb.

“Do you want to go outside? You don't look so good.”

He peeked across the window to where his car was parked. With a little contemplation, he nodded and texted his chauffeur that he was going to walk home.

~ O ~

When he met you one afternoon in front of the tea shop, you were clutching a ball between you arm and hip looking peeved and embarrassed.

“Do you know how to play?”

A shrug. “Just a little.”

You smiled bashfully.

“Teach me.”

You found an outdoor court beside a nearby middle school. He started by instructing how to dribble and what stance to take. He demonstrated how to shoot, before pointing at the three point line and telling you what it was for. When you understood the basics, he told you to get past him and shoot.

“I’d appreciate it if you told me beforehand that we were playing. I should have brought clothes."

“I don't exactly have your number, Akashi-kun.”

You finally called quits when the sky began to tint orange. Panting, you accused him of lying about being an amateur in basketball. He chuckled, removing his sweaty blazer as he watched you fan at your flushed face. Walking back to the benches to retrieve his phone, he told you to give him your number. You complied albeit excitedly.

It was only after two weeks of practicing that he texted you that he was a basketball team captain.

~ O ~

Akashi Seijuro had never had a crush on anyone.

It wasn't that he didn't want to. He had a fair share of admirers from the student body with his inherent good looks, academic standing, school positions held and family background. He met a few who showed outright interest in him, but what he expected to feel, he didn't.

Like he was trained to, he set his eyes on the sole goal of the family. To excel in all fields. Unfortunately, socializing for the sake of romantic escapades was not covered by his lessons at home.

So when you innocently reached out for his hand that one night, pulling him towards the river bank to show him a stone trick, he felt a zap. It pierced through his chest before expanding into flutters breaking out of his skin. He felt nauseous but it left a pleasant sensation in his gut. Addicting and quite unbecoming.

You kept on talking, bragging about your skill, unknowingly gripping his hand tighter. Mind going blank, he felt across the creases on your palm, the callousness of your fingers. Your hand was cold from the chill of the night. It made him want to bring it inside his hoodie pocket to provide some semblance of warmth.

This was another thing he was never trained for by his father. Confessing to a girl he recently found he liked.

He thought, perhaps it isn't the right time to confess.

~ O ~

Akashi Seijuro never had a diary.

His mom had one. It was pink and adorned with handmade flower crafts and ribbons. It was kept inside her closet where his father would never look. She showed it to him one time, saying that a diary was meant to keep all his deepest secrets and even his flitting daydreams. Her smile was wide, eyes with a twinkle of mischief like she and he were sharing a secret no one was meant to get a whiff of. She said she’d help him choose a notebook when he was old enough.

When he had touched her diary for the first time, it felt heavy. Like his heart that had probably been coated with lead that time.

His mom along with her memories had been buried under white roses, but her secrets, dreams, thoughts—it was kept immortalized in her diary. Why had his father chosen white flowers? His mom loved pink. Why couldn't they let her choose something for herself at least for the last time?

That had been the last time he cried.

He never bought himself a diary even as he grew older. But he now understood the glee of being able to share the things he buried under piles and piles of pretence and grandiosity. To be able to say how much he hated mathematics despite being exceptional in it. To be able to eat three cup noodles in one night. To be able to laugh loudly without worrying about etiquette.

If his mom had been alive, he would be able to tell her that he already had a diary in the form of a you.

“The only reason I was allowed to play basketball was because I could learn to lead people better. Basketball is a strategic sport, after all.”

“But do you like playing?”

“Yes. It was my mom who first taught me.”

“Then you should play for the sake of enjoying yourself. Winning is just secondary to it.”

How simple you made it sound. Yet, it was something he's been yearning to hear from anyone.

“Date me.”

You choked on your cola, unfortunately dirtying the sketch you were working on. He had said it on the whim. Impulsive, and certainly an act that starkly contrasted how he was raised to be. However, it felt right that time. With your hand casually brushing with his, your head leaning against his shoulder, it felt extremely right.

When you're sixteen, you're obliged to think that you can take risks and your actions wouldn't garner grave consequences. At least, that was how most teenagers had it. He didn't think he was to be categorized under 'most teenagers', but as the wind blew past you and went on with its never ending journey, he thought I could be a normal kid once in a while.

Your hand closed around his fingers until they whitened on pressure. He flickered his eyes to you, and with a breathless chuckle, you finally answered.

“Sure.”

~ O ~

“Sei-kun, I’m sorry. I’m leaving.”

And that was the first time he allowed himself to cry again.

~ O ~

He convinced himself that it was out of his or your control. It was like one of those famous, overused lines in the movies where the love was perfect, but the timing just wasn't.

And maybe, that was the case for you and for him.

Was he mad?

No.

Did it hurt?

Akashi Seijuro didn't think he needed to answer that.

But what could a 16-year-old do when his first love leaves because of unavoidable circumstances? His family was powerful. He had money. He had intelligence. However that wasn't nearly enough to magically change your family's mind of moving.

What you had was beautiful. A blissful time of trying things out for the first time with someone who could have potentially been his partner for life. It was like a favorite chapter in a book. Once a page was flipped over, a scene came to a conclusion. You could only now turn one page back to recall the memories and relive them.

27-year-old Akashi Seijuro understood this now. Or rather, he accepted it.

His father was close to retiring, and naturally, the one next in line was him. He was more than ready to bear the responsibility as the new CEO of Akashi Enterprises next year. All that was left was papers and formalities.

He had changed a lot since the day you left. Friendships broken to rubble and restored to full. Priorities set straight. Perceptions changed. The pain in his left eye had subsided close to none. He felt whole again, like a wholer version of himself before he started dissociating in front of his mother’s tombstone.

Maybe you leaving was a good thing, because if you had been there when he had broken down, you would've been caught in a maelstrom. You would've gotten hurt. The him now wouldn't have forgiven the versions of him then.

He fixed it. Not without help of course, but he did.

Hence, when he stepped into the tea shop—not the old, rickety one back home, he was stunned. Maybe it was his reward for holding out.

Or maybe, it was true. What they said in the movies.

There you were, a pencil in your hand and your hair in a bun.

Looking as alluring and enigmatic as ever.

Perhaps, this time, the timing was perfect.

~ O ~

Akashi Seijuro thought that he should feel the tug of hesitation, keeping him from eagerly approaching your hunched form. It was inherent in human nature to avoid pain at all costs. But like he so emphasized from the very beginning, he was not like most people.

With a grace befitting of an heir, he walked towards your table.

It took you a few seconds before noticing the figure in front of you. When you looked up, your eyes widened. When he quirked up his lips, you visibly relaxed.

"Hey, you."

"You look different."

And indeed you did. The baby fat around your face was gone. Your lips were painted deep red, eyes framed by light beige. You sported a long dress that hugged your figure.

You were his first love, and yet you were not.

"I can say the same about you, Akashi-san."

He pretended that the way he was addressed did not sting him, but even so, he raised his brows before taking a seat.

"How have you been?"

He didn't think that between the millions of interweaving lines of time and space, his hand would be able to touch this particular one and meet with you again. For a long time, you had only existed in his memories and dreams. Right now, you breathed the same air as he did, listened to his words as he tried to piece the lost moments together with yours.

You told him your story.

And then, it his turn to tell his story.

He told you of the downward spiral he fell into after you left, not missing how you flinched in your seat. Victory became his primal objective. Acting like he was bred to, he crushed all his rivals and even went as far as discarding camaraderie in the basketball team and demolishing their opponents’ morales. In a bystander’s view, he was most peerless and unreachable during these times. But to the few people who really cared about him, he had been on his way to self-destruct.

“Someone slapped some senses into you, I’m guessing.”

“If you want a summarized version, then yes. Kuroko and the others. You’ve met them a few times before.”

“I remember. Go on. I want the uncut version of the story.”

The smile that graced his lips was foreign—young, boyish and carefree. One that you recognized and reciprocated with your own, familiar one.

~ O ~

Two people who had once been naive and innocent 16-year-olds, spending long afternoons in a traditional tea house downtown.

The same two people who were now jaded and mature 27-year-olds, spending mellow evenings in a sophisticated tea shop in the city.

Soon, the little tea shop had turned into your tiny bubble where you could be themselves again.

It was a haven. It was a home. It was rest.

“How did you know this place?”

Because you could've met in a different place amongst all others, but you chanced upon each other here. In this fated sanctuary.

You dropped two sugar cubes and stirred at your americano before continuing.

“It's barely in the maps, and as far as I’m aware, they aren't fans of advertisements.”

Your nails were cut short like usual. Unmanicured.

“This place is owned by a relative."

“What? Are you telling me your family owns everything in this city?”

Chuckle.

“I don't recall saying that.”

“Not kidding?”

“He’s a cousin, abandoned by my uncle because he was born out of wedlock. When my uncle died, my father looked for him and sent him to school.”

“Then he opened a tea shop?”

“Basically, yes. You’ve never seen him around?”

You hummed contemplatively.

“Does he look like you?”

“Not even a bit.”

You stopped stirring and gently placed the spoon on the napkin. When you raised your gaze, a teasing and enticing smile on your lips, he swore he saw something flash across them. It could've been a trick of light, because after he blinked, it was gone. His heart bursted.

“Then, I haven't noticed him I guess.”

~ O ~

When did it happen?

He looked into the colors of your eyes.

Akashi Seijuro had always been in awe of how your eyes changed as light struck them in different angles and intensities. Wavelengths shifted out and across, dancing like a kaleidoscope enigmatically.

Tonight, you rested contently at the passenger’s seat, idly watching the streetlights that zoomed past them.

When he stopped the car in front of your place, you tilted youra head to bid him a good night.

It gave him a chance to look closely, to pick apart the poems, riddles and odes written in those eyes. There, he saw the same longing, a glimmer of nostalgia and pain that spoke of the same things his did. You thought about him, too—everyday since the day you said farewells under the Sakura tree.

You have never really moved on from him. What elation it gave him to know that he wasn't the only one left hanging in limbo.

He gave in, bared his heart again for the second time and asked for you to be his.

They say miracles happened all the time. You only had to look carefully. He could attest to that, because as he lost sight of you eyes, lips touching in the most revered and gentlest of ways, hearts reuniting, he could say this was his miracle.

~ O ~

When did it happen?

Time blurred by and swept with it the days of each year. Akashi-kun turned into Seijuro-kun which turned into Sei—just as how seasons shifted to take their turns inevitably.

And for a long time, he had forgotten how it felt to have you by his side.

To have you wait for him to send a message of good morning. To know you were worrying about him when the drizzle turned into a downpour. To know you would love every inch of him, the dips, the rough patches, the jagged edges as if every part of him were perfect.

With his hand secured behind your knees, he walked on the path crusted with dried leaves autumn left in its wake. You had an arm wrapped around his shoulders with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck.

The afternoon sun casted a magenta glow on your light strands of hair. It made the grin on your lips much softer than it looked.

"I better be rewarded for granting your wish, princess."

"Hush, you. You promised to carry me on a piggyback ride when we were younger."

There had been moments like these. Imageries of him and you that he'd frame and keep eternally etched in his heart if he could. Cheeks swelling with magnanimous smiles. Breaths ragged with laughter.

"Sei."

"Hmm?"

"What did you think of me the first time we met?"

A low hum and the lone tea shop downtown came to mind.

"I thought, 'This is the girl I'm going to love for the rest of my life.'"

"Cheesy. Want to know what I thought?"

"What?"

"'This is the man I'm going to marry someday.'"

The reward kiss you gave him after that left the sweetest aftertaste in his lips.

~ O ~

When did it happen?

There had been moments like these, too.

"You're too perfect, Sei.”

“I’m not. Calm down, love. I understand—”

“You do? Look at me and tell me that you really do, Mr. High and Perfect and ‘I-own-everything-even-the-air-you-breathe.’”

Imageries of him and you that he'd rather burn into the cold embers with the ashes to be blown by the gale. He hated to see you hurt, whether it was because of him or not.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Then you’d make up. Nothing dramatic like begging for forgiveness or giving long winded explanations. You knew one of you were at fault, so you accepted it, took each other's hands and nursed your wounds, promising to do better the next time.

At the end of the day it was never for naught, and the kisses you shared in the aftermath were the most affectionate and most desperate of their kind.

~ O ~

When did it happen?

“Sei, take a look at this sketch. Do you think it looks good?”

A wedding gown. It was easily the most gorgeous one he’s ever seen.

“Do you?”

“I think… Yes. I think I like my design.”

“Then it is. There isn't any standard for what is beautiful and what is not. If you ask me, I’d be willing to put it on on our wedding day. Given that you'll have to wear the tuxedo in my stead.”

“My fiancé is one cheeky man, isn't he.”

~ O ~

When did it happen?

He twirled your hand as you spun around on your feet. Your sense of balance slipped away and you fell, figuratively and literally, towards his welcoming arms. There was no music to match the succeeding taps of your feet in the ground, but he preferred it that way. Your voice was enough music to sway him to submission, his head swimming in ecstasy.

“I shouldn't be allowed to be this happy, Sei.”

“Neither should I, love, but here you are.”

~ O ~

Not everyone was fortunate enough to be given a second chance to redo things like they did, and it felt like things had fallen to fit into that perfect puzzle his mind had conjured up in the past, and everything was perfect. At least, that was how he tried convincing himself with. It was perfect. It was supposed to.

But why wasn't it?

Akashi Seijuro didn't know what was missing, what was amiss, what was slowly devouring the special thing they shared. He ignored it, brushed it off as normal for any relationship. Everyone goes through stagnancy like this, right?

Your hands were cold.

He supposed his was, too.

That night when you had promised to meet him by the park so you could stargaze, he started to feel a gaping hole in his chest. When you still hadn't shown up and chauffeur started to send him messages offering to take him home, he knew that hole was rapidly consuming him.

It was raining, the tiny droplets pelting at his skin and soaking him to the bones. He hadn't bothered to open his umbrella and chose to stay on the soil despite the stains marking his pants. Something white moved in his peripheral vision, and the hole grew wider and deeper.

He thought that maybe he should feel something stab through his heart by the way you hesitated to approach him. But the numbness of being battered under the rain for he didn't know how long (—had it been hours? Weeks? Months? Years?), it had overtaken his emotions, caged them, made him feel nothing even though he was likely snapping.

When did it happen?

When he thought you were about to cry, you smiled instead. It was only then when he noticed that the lingering smile he fell in love, over and over and over again, fell colorless, flat, routine.

And it broke his heart even more because it was a smile that said, "I loved you."

~ O ~

If only he knew.

But what could he have done?

~ O ~

And just like that, things started to change drastically. The previously fragile yet somehow stable hands that kept the house of cards from toppling over gone. The dam broke. The balance was thrown off.

Soon, Akashi Seijuro was no longer left to a standstill but was watching everything fall apart with hands tied behind his back. He had never felt so helpless. Not when his pride and name was being smeared over. Not even when he was losing all his friends. The last time he was gobbled up by incapacitating doubt and crippling fear was when his dying mother had cradled his face in her emancipated hands.

Suddenly, he was a young boy again.

But why? he wanted to cry out.

Did he do something wrong? Said something? Wasn't he enough anymore?

If there had been a reason, even the pettiest and most childish reason, he'd be more accepting. Anything. Anything. Really. Anything.

But there wasn't and there was none and when did it happen, no—HOW did it come to this?

He realized that he could no longer muster up the silly thoughts and excuses of ‘maybe the love was right but the timing wasn't’ anymore.

~ O ~

You were changing, distorting, fading. This vessel of you no longer held the soul that once promised him forever.

If he let this go on, he might lose you.

~ O ~

You didn't know what to expect when he called you during work and asked you to meet him at the tea shop. Not the sophisticated one at the heart of the city. But the old one downtown where it all started.

Hands folded. Eyes downcast. Breathing shallow and little at the edge of erratic.

The place had not changed even a bit since the last time you went here as naive teenagers. Except, now there were different sets of customers and you were two different versions of the past. And maybe, if you had the energy and time to look at the far right corner of the establishment, you'd see the new old-fashioned vase sitting on a miniature table.

There were a million things running in his mind—questions he wanted to throw out like why did you waver, why did you give up on us, why can't you fight for us anymore, why aren't you happy anymore, why, why, why. Instead, he settled for:

“Why didn't you tell me?”

Akashi Seijuro had never been one to sugarcoat things. He got straight to the point. Each and every time. You knew that yet you couldn't help the surprise that permeated your gasp.

“You could've said something.”

He pleaded.

"I didn't want to lose you, Sei."

And you did, too.

It was incredibly selfish. So selfish he felt both euphoria and agony squeeze his head to the point of wanting to throw up. His blood screamed at him to keep on holding on for you, for himself. He was trained to be victorious in every single thing, wasn't he? This shouldn't be any different.

But you weren't a game. You weren't his diary. And you weren't his springtime.

You were someone he loved endlessly and mercilessly.

“This isn't going to work anymore.”

“No, no, no, no—wait, let me try again. I can do it! I can try again for—”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes! Sei, I could never not love you!”

“Tell me, princess.”

“Sei—”

“Are you still in love with me?”

You froze, and his heart broke. He knew you wanted to say yes. He could tell by the way your hands stiffened in his. But you hesitated, looked at him imploringly and begged him not to make you say it out loud.

“I thought so.”

“Please don't let me go. I can’t be without you.”

You eyes, coated with a sheen of desperation and despair, spoke in volumes that threatened to deafen him. Let you go. Let you stay. Let you live. Smother you. His heart was a battlefield—a clash between his feelings and his desires.

If he could, he’d cry, too. Instead, he opened his mouth. “I want you to be happy…”

Gently, he released your hands before gingerly, tenderly wiping away the tears on your face.

“...even if it means I’ll no longer be in the picture. You have to grow without me, and I without you.”

He pressed his forehead against yours as he listened to the muffled cries and empty heaves.

He wished that time could be kinder to him to slow down. To hear his pleas to pause in this moment where you were still his, because once you walked out that door, you would no longer be his while he was still yours.

“Promise me, that if after years your heart still calls for me… promise me you'll be the one to come and look for me. Choose me again.”

~ O ~

What was it that they said about in the movies? No matter how tasteless some of them were, he couldn't deny the realistic accuracy they spun around in their tales with only slight exaggerations.

They said third time's a charm.

And surely it was.

For the sake of being poetic, he had wanted to say the place where it all began was also where it was going to end. In that cheap vintage teashop downtown where they had lived in their own little bubble.

He was glad that wasn't the case.

As you walked with a grace that made his legs grow weak and his heart to quicken, he couldn't think of when you had been this painfully, breathtakingly beautiful.

In a sea of black, your long white dress stood out like the moon in the blanket of black skies.

You spotted him instantly, eye glazed with indecipherable emotion as you flashed him the most surreal smile he’d seen.

Back then when he broke it up with you, he hadn't known if he did the right thing. One made choices to move forward, but the consequences could only be reviewed in retrospect. Regrets and remorse were common, but just as satisfaction and rejoicing were.

You came closer, glanced softly at him, and he swore that both of them heard the words you had told him once upon a time.

"I shouldn't be allowed to be this happy, Sei."

He looked at you longingly during that small slice of time, and all the memories came rushing back to him. He remembered the smile you would give him. You always had such a beautiful smile. He wished he could've seen more of it.

He regarded you fondly, told you he loved you without any spoken words and shook his head before stepping aside.

“No, you deserve this.”

Your groom's hand grasped yours. Smiles were exchanged. Intimate gaze returned. Vows already said even before you reached the altar.

Amidst all the heart-wrenching, searing loss and pain, you found solace. You found forgiveness, and through it, healing. And now that you belonged to someone else, but he wouldn't count this as a loss.

After all, he was able to preserve that smile. He finally learned to let go albeit willingly and happily, and entrusted you to his cousin whom he knew would love you more than he ever did.

And while Akashi Seijuro wasn't a religious man, he sent a silent prayer to the One who made you.

Take care of her for me.

And that's a wrap, everyone! If you made it this far, MUCH THANKS. I remember writing this piece in my room at midnight 3 years ago. This fic is actually inspired by this Filipino song, "Paubaya". It's quite a lovely song sang by a very talented singer and songwriter.

As you've all noticed, this is heavily Akashi-centric. It was written all in his POV, and I made sure to insert some aspects and key memories of his life into it.

To be clear, reader did not cheat on Akashi with his cousin. Reader-chan fell out of love, and to some extent, Akashi did too. It happens. It's a sad reality.

Lastly, can anyone guess who Akashi's cousin is? *wink wink*

Anyhow, thank you once again everyone. I'm elated to have been able to post something again after years. Thank you! ^^

[wings-of-ink]

First Devlog?

Hello everyone...boy, there are a lot of you already, still trying to digest that...

So, I gather that I should do these logs on occasion. I do not know how often, perhaps just when I have a few things to say. I will try not to ramble too much, but my fingies like to talk.

Anyway, I am working on chapter 3 right now. There’s some fun moments so far in it that I hope you’ll like, and we’ll get to meet Zahn, Duri'naan, and then Rundis. I’m trying not to rush because there are some exciting scenes that I’m eager to get to. I’ve outlined them to tide myself over until I get that far. There’s some quiet moments you’ll get to have as well, and right now I feel like that’s what I’m struggling with. Those areas of my story are like bridges to the next, more exciting, parts and sometimes I feel like they fall a little flat. But, I’m trying to keep in mind this is my first draft. I’ll go through it another time or two to perk things up. Those moments are still important for letting the MC get to know each RO.

My mind has been in a million directions lately too, and I’ve had a lot of ‘duh’ moments. I’ve done so much world building since I started this last year (around August/September I think), that I have pockets of important details that I kinda just forgot! So, I plan to re-read all the notes I’ve made and try to also put them into one place. I have some in my phone, in a notebook, and in no less than three folders on my laptop. It’s a wonder I have survived this many years…

What you can expect for coming updates…

-A couple fixes, of course – thank you to those who found some of those pesky buggy bois for me.

-A nicer front page, instead of being slapped with my ramblings, I’d like to actually have a nice start page. I’ll figure it out eventually, lol.

-I’ll be adding a name bank to the MC’s Nameday scene that will also show you what each name means, so if that is important to you, it’ll save you the internet search. If it tickles your fancy, the name selection will correspond in some way to the marks (names meaning "night" or "storm," etc.) so you can theme your MC a bit.

-Extra coding in case you decide to shorten MC’s given name to just “Ravi.” I did not once consider that anyone would do this, and my first play-tester – my own spouse – did….He told me about it since it made some dialog with Oswin make zero sense, and then I published the story without fixing it because I completely forgot about it.

-Different contrast color for dark mode links. I feel like I have drastically improved this with a new gold color. In retrospect, I don’t know why I didn’t use the gold before. I love it as an accent, I use it all over! The blue never felt 100% right, but my brain shut down after thinking about it too long. Here’s a sample and a (M) Zahn tease:

When can you expect an update?

I’d like to make my next update during the Amare Games Festival, ideally containing both chapters 3 and 4 since they go pretty tightly together. This will also insure that you meet the rest of the posse. It’s a tall order for both chapters to be submitted on time, and I don’t want to rush them either, but I’m going to try really really hard, lol. I will focus first on polishing chapter 3, so that no matter what, I can at least get it out in time.

Here’s a link to the post about it:

And this is the submission time frame: open from March 31st 2024 at 11:00 PM to May 1st 2024 at 12:00 AM

As a side message, should you want to read on…

I also wanted to give you all a big, like really big, heartfelt thank you. I have received so many kind messages and comments that I just can’t believe it. I am so happy (and honestly, genuinely shocked) that you’re enjoying my IF, and I’m motivated to work hard so you also enjoy each new chapter of your journey. There’s so many secrets I want to share with you about the world, and I am struggling to be patient myself, lol.

I am not usually a very open or social person, and I was scared for a long time to share anything I wrote. I reached a point in my personal life in the last few years where I just needed to embrace what I loved to do and share it with a community that shares in that love. I encourage you to do the same whether there is a story in your heart, music on your lips, or a paintbrush in your hands. Life is NOT about your 8-5. We may not be able to survive without it, but whatever moment you can, do what you actually love. Put away the those things that don’t matter, the things that stress you - including people, and make time for who you are.

Thank you all and take care!

~Lunan

[inkedroplets]

ficwip 'turn'

Too much instances of the word turn I must fire my editor at once (myself)

You Owe me a New Desk

this is just kind of sitting in my drafts and I'm too lazy to post the first chapter

“Desk,” Lena repeated, still refusing to look at her. She ran a hand along the edge, trailing her nails along the surface.  She floated rather than walked over to the desk, feet skimming over the floor. She rose higher into the air and as Lena turned back around to face her, she sat down on the very edge of the desk and then Lena’s hand pressed firmly against her stomach, trailed along the sharp curves of her abs, her fingertips running a familiar circuit along them. Lingering. Teasing.

Johanna Constantine Crossover

I should probably just sit on this until closer to Halloween, right?

“Where’s what?” Lena managed to ask in a voice that at least sounded mostly like her own.  “The grimoire or scroll or whatever magical thing you’ve decided to fuck around with that lured a demon here.” The woman examined Lena carefully, a flicker of dull recognition coming alight in her eyes. “Fuck me,” she grumbled. “You’re Lena Luthor, aren’t you?” She paused just long enough to take a closer look at her, not waiting for Lena to answer. “Yeah, it’s you. I’d recognize that jawline anywhere.” The woman ran her hand along her own face in what Lena had to assume was a mocking gesture. “Why is it you rich people always always seem to love mucking around with the occult? You can’t be that bloody bored.” “Demon?” Lena murmured, still staring at the spot the creature had been just moments before. Now though there was only a pile of untidy ash where it once stood. She turned to the woman, meaning to ask her one of the several questions she had for her but she found it impossible to do so. Her mouth felt like it had been shot full of Novocaine.

Devil in Disguise

Uhhhh I've kind of let my Lucifer crossover languish in my draft folder for uhhh years... Oops. Tinkering with it, at least

When Lena didn’t immediately hop into the idling car, Lucifer laid on his horn once more which made Lena quickly raise her hands in reluctant surrender, wincing. “I thought you said that angels couldn’t kill humans,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat, fumbling with her seatbelt clumsily. "We can’t, but throw up in my car and all bets are off.” He surveyed her with a somewhat pitying look before cranking the wheel and joining the flow of traffic. “I’d offer you some pills but I doubt any of them are aspirin although you’re welcome to check,” he said and tossed a small pill caddy into her lap. “Perhaps a little hair of the dog?” He reached into his jacket and Lena saw a flash of silver that she knew had to be his flask before he withdrew his hand. “On second thought, the good doctor might not like it if you come in with alcohol on your breath… And there's no point in dragging your feet on this. The Detective made it abundantly clear that you attending therapy would be the price for me assisting in your little act of subterfuge.”  "Yes, I remember," Lena said sourly. "When I asked the devil for a favor I was under the assumption that the eventual repayment would come much later and be far less annoying.” "As did I,” Lucifer said, making a hard right that sent a bolt of pain through Lena’s temple. “Usually when I call in favors they’re a lot more fun for me. I’m the devil, not some wish-granting fairy-godmother.” He appeared to shudder at the thought and focused his attention back on the road. “I can assure you that Linda is the best of the best. She’s been my therapist for years now…” “So,” Lena said slowly, turning to look sideways at him.“This is you after years of therapy?”

A Rich Girl With Issues

Editing in AO3 is terrible. Somebody save me.

Lena’s body was still covered in healing contusions and bruises. The worst of them were the fresher bruises that overlaid the fading ones that hadn’t had a chance to heal properly. The gash on Lena’s forehead had healed almost completely and while the nurses warned that there might be a scar, Lena had seemed wholly unbothered by the possibility. To Kara, she supposed that if there was a scar it would just be one more thing for her to admire. To love.  Lena’s stomach wound had been the most serious. The kryptonite shard had lodged itself deep enough but had miraculously missed anything vital. Kara had been loath to consider it lucky but it was at the very least a good turn after a series of very bad ones. Her doctors and nurses had given her multiple warnings about potential hiccups in her recovery and listed off a number of bumps in the road they hoped to avoid: wound dehiscence and possible infection biggest among them. But after weeks of follow-up care (with plenty more to follow) they seemed to be in the clear. 

I forgot to tag anyone. I hate bothering people but I'll very politely prod @vox-ex because I am so curious about anything they might be working on

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

OK let's see. First of all thank you so much for the tags, my dear @alexagirlie, @thelettersfromnoone and @st-eve-barnes

I was actually sure that I don't have any WIPs apart from the one I'm writing right now - Part 3 of Feeling you, but as I got tagged again and again I decided that this needs a more thorough investigation 🤔

So I went to my google docs. You can't even imagine what a mess I have there 🤯. I really tend to stick to one idea and write it to the end, but in the process I create so many drafts with different variations of the story...

In between this chaos I actually found what I was looking for - those few docs that are more than just a cloud of ideas, but still not ripe enough to transform into fics and one real WIP - the Part 3 of the Reunited fic I have lowkey promised to write but always find some excuses not to 🙈.

So here we go:

Circus

Returning home

Make love to me tonight

Reunited Part 3

All of them are Sihtric x reader.

I'm tagging @synindoodles (I want a sneak preview into the next chapter of your fic 😅) @foxyanon (may be you have already something from the gorgeous vampire lady) @verenahx @little-diable @valeskafics (wanna know if you have something in preparation for Sihtric again). All of you just feel free to ignore me if you are not up to it 🥰

[lilitblaukatz]

tl;dr: I don't have a conclusion. Just lots of love and sympathy.

We have so little info to understand why Chay decided not to go through with his uni exams.

Oh yes, he might be just an ungrateful little shit. Let's hear it for the boy, tho.

At the very beginning, when the situation got tough, Chay asked Porsche to sell the house and move somewhere cheaper. He also suggested, that it's not the time for getting education.

It seems to me that Chay doesn't think that his education is a form of "fighting". He's wrong, but Porsche didn't tell him enough. That unresolved issue still stands many months later.

I believe Chay when he says that he likes music. I believe him when he said that he chose Antranameka because his celebrity crush is studying there. Why Chay is making such a rough decision? I don't have an answer satisfying in its fullness. Just these thoughts.

Nampheung told very very young Porsche that he mustn't die before Chay will finish his education. Porsche's dream was to fulfill that request. Many sacrifices were made, Chay knows. Chay doesn't want sacrifices from him. He wants piece and love and his brother alive and near. He can make sacrifices too.

Then Chay comes to the point where in several days period he learns that Porsche is in grave danger. That his first love was lying about loving him back (that's what concerns Chay the most about Kim). That his life now is changed beyond recognition. He needs strength and time to regroup. Chay still doesn't have a confidant, a friend who can help him. Ohm is trying, bless him. Ohm is helping a bit with the heartbreak. But since Chay says later that Porsche doesn't have to tell him all and Chay himself doesn't tell Porsche all of his concerns, Chay doesn't consider Porsche as support, but rather as a part of the problem. He must support Porsche now. Just on his own terms.

Chay starts behaving like Porsche when he has problems. He turns to the vices, he changes his look and he... sacrifices? He makes decisions for himself. Maybe for the first time in his life he makes such an important decision as he did about the uni.

It wasn't about the money for Chay. It was symbolic from the start. To help his brother by being good Nong and good student. But did Chay think that it was a fair trade? He is the smart one. He grew up and saw that it was unfair for Porsche.

I never forget the first thing Porsche said about Kim, when Pete told him as little as "Khun Kim moved out a long time ago".

I will talk about it later, hopefully, when I finish that big long-ass post about Kim, Korn and conspiracy that eats my draft folder like a bunch of termites.

But Porsche. Porsche is opposed to that. He doesn't want to be an egoist. He is responcible, he is a good son. It is cultural thing too, which I'm only now learning, so I hope I understand this enough not to make grave mistakes in my conclusions.

So, Porsche doesn't like egoists. Does Chay count himself as one if he let Porsche do such awful things for him like being in mortal danger? I think he does. When Porsche made stakes so much higher and didn't even tell Chay, all bets were off.

In the end (of the series) Porsche didn't change anything from this drastic situation Chay found himself after the kidnapping. So the changes were on Chay then. Chay is no longer trusts Porsche with his problems (he didn't in the past too, I guess, but there were little kid problems which Porsche didn't need a permission to solve). I guess there had to be a confrontation between Kittisawat brothers at the beginning of s02, where Chay's uni application would be the cause, but the reason would be elsewhere.

Well, we'll never know. I just think that Chay believed that he was solving something. Sacrificing his dreams to get off of his brother's back. Maybe he planned to run away, who knows. Or to join Porsche in that fighting on equal footing. One thing is clear to me: Chay didn't want a normal more or less safe life while his brother would be risking his. Yes, Porsche had other reason named Kinn. But what did Chay really thought of Kinn? Chay answered Kinn's questions, he tried to be friendly, but it was romantic love which tied Porsche to Kinn and romantic love just bit Chay on the throat. If Porsche is happy with Kinn, so be it. Chay thinks he can take care of himself so his brother wouldn't have to. Porsche was his age and supported them both. And Chay wants, Chay...

And he still is barely 19. Kim reminded him that his decisions can have severe consequences. But the thing is, you can't be told about it. The only way out is through. Chay went that way.

He threw everything he loved in the trash (well, the guitar and all the WIK merch didn't fit but it's the thought that counts :)), because pursuing it makes him an egoist (and Kim talked about sacrifices too, they both were similar in the way that their older brothers let them pursue their dreams by cost of their own (and it's Kinn who let Kim have his long leash, Korn didn't let Kim shit, and Kinn is a hostage in exchange)) and is an empty canvas now. His talking shirt is giving us a hint.

[dontjudgemeimawriter]

Dead Darlings Tag

Tagged by @charlesjosephwrites

🌑 Rules: Share a part of your writing you love that got cut for the greater good. It doesn't matter if it's a line or a paragraph. It doesn't matter if you might work it back in. If it's not currently in a WIP and you want to share, please do.

So I don't actually have a whole lot of this. When I get stuck I do sometimes put what I backpedel on in a scraps folder, but apparently i haven't done it too much, and usually I stop writing it because I don't like it or where it's going or I'm just treading water in the scene. I'm not at a stage where I cut major things that I enjoyed-- I will when I edit for real, but I just don't do that as I go. The draft currently has a character at the beginning tha I decided doens 't exist, I just haven't edited him out yet because why should I?

There are some scraps though, and here's one scene that I kept in the scarps folder but wound up deleting. This takes place between the two scenes posted here-- you can see there that I had a chapter break, between the first post and the reblog. This scene is essentially what I started writing for that chapter, then deleted.

Tagging: @thegreatobsesso @scripe-of-stories @ceph-the-ghost-writer @squarebracket-trickster & @avrablake

Mika paid for my meal without us discussing it, nothing more but a small smile in my direction and a gesture to leave. 

I still had focus up, was still confident that my wall was up, yet I noticed something. I smiled back reflexively, caught the door behind her without thinking about what signal it gave off, even found myself talking without rehearsing every word first. 

Our previous back and forth, me antagonizing her, had been me playing the role she wanted me to be. She’d wanted me to be the villain so I’d complied, because I couldn’t deny the reason. But I hadn’t realized how exhausting that role had been.

Our conversations had always hit a dead end in the past, either from me or from her, but we were actually talking now, even if it was light, surface level conversation.

Was this okay? Was it the right idea to do this? Wasn’t getting this comfortable dangerous? 

A hand raising in a wave caught my attention, and in an instant, and comfort I’d started to feel evaporated. Abigail.

I waved back, shifting instantly. Mika noticed my reaction before following my gaze to Abigail, but a glance in her direction told me she wasn’t sure who she was seeing. 

“Hello, Terran, Mika,” Abigail greeted us. She stopped walking, so we did too, facing her.

“Hi,” I said. For once, someone was there, possibly having caught me— for what? Talking to Mika, who lived with me? She’d been passing, not spying. I glanced at Mika. She was holding something back, but I wasn’t sure if it was confusion or nerves. “You two have met, right?”

Mika nodded, and Abigail gave a huge smile that made me uneasy. “I’m sure Zachary’s been singing my praises,” she said in a way that meant the opposite. Zachary had not been quiet about his disapproval of her becoming the Judge’s right-hand man. “but yes, we’ve met, though I don’t believe we’ve talked much. Mika, yes?” Mika nodded, gathering herself enough to respond. “Correct, and I see no need to change that.”

Abigail didn’t react, just turned to me. “Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? I didn't get to ask how you were the other night.” 

She’d been the one delivering the order on Jesse, I remembered. Did she know the story I’d fed Zachary, or had he kept it to himself?

“Well, thanks for giving me a job. I’d been bored,” I replied, watching her expression. Mika, next to me, sighed, but dammit, Mika, I still gotta play the game. 

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “And how is that going?”

“There’s been some complications,” I said, still fishing for how much she knew already, but maybe she was letting me tell it. “But I’ll get him.” I needed to find out how much the Judge already knew. I considered for a moment, then added, “He’s gone off the grid and I’m having trouble tracking him down. You wouldn't happen to know any more than what was in the file, do you?”

Her gaze flicked to Mika for a moment. “All I remember about that was he got a hit on him for learning too much. P.I.'s really serve a problem, the Judge’s been considering making some changes in how they’re licensed.

“Oh no,” Mika deadpanned. I glance at her. Her eyes had narrowed at Abigail.

“Well, good luck finding him,” Abigail said. “Though if you end up hitting a dead end, feel free to hand the job off— I’m sure we can find someone else to carry it out.”

“Thanks, but I’ll find him,” I said. No way could someone else take it, but if I couldn’t get this, I might not be able to stop someone else looking for him. 

“Good luck!” Abigail said, giving us a wave and heading off. I gave her a wave back, then took a deep breath and turned back to Mika.

Mika was watching Abigail walk off, and after a moment, after she was out of earshot, she looked at me. “I know Zachary doesn’t like her. What do you think?”

I shrugged. I had once trusted her, but that had been so long ago, and so much had changed. So much about me had changed. “She works for the Judge. All of us should be wary.”

Mika nodded, biting her lip considering, then added “She was lying.”

I’d been about to keep walking, move on, and then I stopped. Mika could tell when people were lying. “About what?”

“What she knows about that guy. The P.I. I don’t know what she does know, but she knows more.”

Shit, of course she did. “Do you know what?”

“Couldn’t get that far.” Mika shrugged. “And didn’t care that much. Not exactly a big fan of helping you catch this guy. I’d be happy if he got away.”

“That’s not what’s at stake, though.” I said, and already that comfort was making me fuck up, wasn’t it? “It’s either I find him or someone else does.”

She shrugged, and of course it made no difference to her—to her, I was going to kill him. I didn't need her to care, though, right?

Wrong.

Mika knew Jodi. Or at least, had known her—and Jodi was who Jesse was looking for. At least that was what he’d claimed. 

She wasn’t going to help me murder a man, though, and I couldn’t tell her I was trying to ensure he lived. “Listen,” in urgency I put a hand on her shoulder and she jerked it away, but it didn't matter. “Jesse, the P.I., he’s on a case. He’s looking for Jodi Gibson, you said you knew her, right? Can you help me find her? I think it’s the best way to find him.”

“For Jodi?” she repeated. I nodded. She considered, and I could tell— her stubborn side didn’t want to, just to spite me. But we’d just truced, just agreed to give each other a chance. “You’re not killing her, though? Just that guy?”

I nodded, but I could see her still hesitant. She still didn’t completely trust me, after all. Us agreeing to stop fighting didn't necessarily include working together. Finally, she relented. “I don’t know what to tell you. We were friends when we were kids.”

“But what I should really do is talk to her friends and family,” I said. “I doubt they’d talk to a random guy, but maybe they’ll talk to you.”

[stabbyfoxandrew]

for you wip Wednesday posts, do you just post as you write? like are the parts all continuous or is there parts between that you don’t post? (sorry if this is dumb, I’m just curious how you do yours:))

okay so (get ready for a long winded explanation of how my writing works sorry in advance)

for wipw, i have sort of a basic outline for plot points and stuff. i know roughly how each of the stories go and how they end. that being said, i have two docs (or more) per au. one with the outline and the other is the draft i'm posting for you guys. like here's the actual docs in my bookmarks (ignore my joke titles okay)

(ID: a screenshot of my Firefox, with a folder of bookmarks showing.)

cutting here because sweet lord this got long

as you can see i've got all my wipw docs in a bookmark folder so i can find them easily. DIH, BB, OG, 🦊, and 🦊WIPW are all writing folders. DIH is a long fic for another fandom. BB stands for 'big bang' and is for all my 'cosmic lost and found' stuff. OG is my ocs stuff :). Fox is anything aftg-related that isn't for wipw. and finally wipw is... wipw.

ALSO 'strips and tags' is the doc where i keep my little 'headings' for wipw posts as well as the tags so i don't have to type that shit everytime! (ex: 'WIP Wednesday (10/25) | Guardian Angel Neil (Part --)'

anyway! i write on them and cut them into chunks for wipw. the size of the 'chunk' each ask gets depends on how well the story flows and if it's a good stopping point. so sometimes it's just a couple paragraphs and sometimes it's almost a full fucking page because i couldn't decide where to chop it?

also usually i like to work a bit ahead so i'm not starting with nothing the next week. so when i don't and i get a lot for a certain au it stresses me out bc i don't know where we're going and i have to come up with it on the fly so i can answer asks??

this is also why i write in order and i could never write bits and pieces here and there all over the timeline like Ash does. it would Stress Me Out sooo bad lol

to answer the actual question: yeah.

for the most part, it's mostly how the final draft will be. but in the final i'll probably flesh out certain bits to make it make sense. like we just Jump into the scene a lot in wipw posts and it makes sense for wipw posts. but it wouldn't in an actual longfic on ao3? you know?

also in angel neil, some of the events are out of order. i never expected people to care about it so much so originally it was gonna be a lotttt shorter so andrew talks to betsy about it right away. i think in the Finished Fic (whenever that will be) he won't mention neil to betsy for a while?? but idk for sure we still have a long ass way to go.

thanks for asking this i'm sorry if you didn't want to read my life story but i don't have anyone to talk about writing with really and also i'm insane and can't just say yes/no i have to EXPLAIN

[pastself]

Obligatory fic/WIP post

Links to posted fics & tumblr whatsits under the cut! Yes, they are all Peter/Tony. ymmv. Updated 26/10/24.

Happened (& on Ao3)

Bare - WIP (Ch8/33k) Peter gives himself a Brazilian for very stupid reasons. It hurts a lot at the time, but it hurts a lot more later.

Want for Nothing - 80k+ The financial stability (aka Sugar Daddy) fic. Tony's love language is gift giving. Peter seems to be the only person who understands that. Deleted Scenes/other extras here

Everything is Legal in Jersey - 11k+ Outsider POV. Nobody understands why Tony Stark moved to New Jersey after Civil War. Well, nobody, except 16-year-old Peter Parker.

Three Fundamental Truths - 3k+ Everything is Legal coda/prequel. Tony Stark didn't set out to date a teenager. No, really.

Groupie Love (Runs in the Family) - 7k+ The Meet the family/Social Media fic. I [19M] found out my boyfriend [47M] slept with my aunt [46F] before I was born. Reddit posts here.

Called on the Devil - 7k+ Outsider POV. Peter needs a divorce ASAP, and decides Daredevil will be his lawyer – whether he wants to be or not.

No Longer Boyish - 1k+ They all told Peter he'd grow out of his feelings. They were right.

How She Had Done It (WfN verse) - 2k+ Outsider POV. Pepper had thought her days of dealing with Tony's conquests were over.

These Things Happen - 3k+ It takes Peter 5 minutes to fall in love with Tony Stark.

Found Wanting (WfN verse) - 7k+ People are easy, when it comes to sex. And Tony is everyone's type.

Whatsits & Headcanons (on Tumblr)

Peter is an adult when Tony comes back

Groupie Love: deleted scene (in which Tony makes everything worse)

The journey back to Earth will take decades

Body count

The WIPs

Since I don't post WIPs unless they are at least roughly done, but still want to talk about the insanity going on in my draft folder, I'm oversharing here. Don't hold me any of these! Titles may change!

Probably Happening

These things happen redux - ±1k Tony POV on These Things Happen.

The Last Parker - 1k+ Peter gets Omega!Tony pregnant on the ride into space to fight Thanos -- and everything after that still follows canon.

Maybe Sorta Somehow

Papa Don't Preach - 2k+ Peter is pregnant in a very bad, definitely going to kill him, spidery way. No one reacts normally. Excerpt here.

How to Get Away with Murder - 1k+ (verging on irondad atm but I think that will resolve itself) Peter may have killed someone, but there's no way in hell Tony's going to let him go to jail for it - no matter what the kid thinks.

Straight to Number One - 1k+ It's the Queer as Folk pilot but with superheros, weaponized aphrodisiacs, and consent check-ins... so nothing like the QAF pilot. Excerpt here.

Flaw(less) - 3k+ It's not self-harm, it's data collection. At least, that's what Peter has been telling himself since Titan. Tony disagrees..

[tinycoded360]

Cursed to a Foreign Land- Chapter 1

Author Note: So, while I work on finishing my other WIP/working on the next chapters to stuff, I decided to pull out a rough draft I had sitting in my draft folder. I wrote this when the game House of Ash came out. I just never got around to fixing it up and posting it. So this is a work of fanfiction about a borrower child that gets magically transported to Iraq. He is found by my favorite character, Salim. I broke up into smaller parts. You should be fine with reading this without any knowledge of the game. If there is mention of vampires, Zeddle will also be confused too. (He doesn't even know what a vampire is) I hope you enjoy it!

*****

"Zeddle, don't wander too far!" his mother's voice echoed from their hidden home. "I won't, mom!" he called back. He was a responsible ten-year-old borrower boy, and today, like every day, he was helping his family gather supplies and caring for his two younger sisters, Flare and Varsha. His family lived in a big borrower colony deep in a lush forest. Zeddle had only heard stories of humans; he’d never seen the bigger counterpart. His home was hidden away from human civilization. Humans never ventured that deep into the wilderness. The only danger they had besides wild animals was the threat of a giant witch of woods. It was said the witch looked like a human and was probably the reason, that kept humans out. Unfortunately, the Witch of the Woods had little love for the tiny people and would often curse them, or borrowers would go missing to never be seen again. Zeddle was always told to run and hide if he encountered this danger.

While foraging for food and materials for his parents and keeping an eye on his younger siblings, Zeddle felt the air around him go cold.

Suddenly, a twisted figure emerged from the shadows – the giant witch of the woods. "Well, well, what have we here?" she crooned, her voice dripping with malice. "Ah, what a delicious morsel you are," she cackled, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. She towered over Zeddle. Zeddle turns to his sisters. “Run!” Zeddle shouted to his little sisters. The twins turned and booked it back home. Zeddle turned to distract the Witch from his sisters. “Hey, down here, you ugly hag!” The Witch sneered at him, waved a gnarled hand over him, and, with an evil grin, whispered, "Begone!" Suddenly, everything went dark, and Zeddle felt his body being tossed through space. When he landed, he found himself dangling from strings tied to his limbs. Zeddle's heart hammered in his tiny chest as the strings cut into his wrists and ankles. The hot desert sun beat down on him, leaving him sunburnt and parched. His mouse-skin shirt and pants felt way too warm for this weather. He had no idea where the witch had sent him. Around him towered massive humans, their thunderous voices booming in a language he could not comprehend. Zeddle craned his neck, peering around the stall that held him captive. Rows of lifeless puppets surrounded him, their dead eyes and frozen smiles taunting him. He had to get free before one of the giants noticed he was alive. Zeddle twisted his wrists, wincing as the strings dug deeper. It was no use. He was bound too tightly. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as he watched the giants meander past. Zeddle's mind raced. How would he get back home? Did his family even know he was missing? He thought of his little sisters Flare and Varsha, how frightened they must be. A lump formed in his throat.

Chapter 2

[look-at-the-soul]

WIP FILENAMES TAG

Thank you so much for the tag @there-goes-thefighter 🥰

Rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your wip folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

Here is my WIP:

✨ Lenny Miller series “The Runway” (Part 6) request by @l1-l4

Y/N and Lenny go away for a couple of days after rumors are leaked in the press. He just knows the perfect place to hide and provide Y/N with some privacy. Things will soon escalate for them in the intimate department.

✨ “Daydreamer” Robert Fischer (One shot) for my Adele challenge song request by @raincoffeeandfandoms

After reading this song is about Adele daydreaming about her former boyfriend who was bi and she was trying to imagine him being “the perfect man”, I got the idea to Y/N being “daydreaming” about how her life would be perfect if only Robert was actually there for her.

✨ “When we were young” Cillian Murphy Special part for my Adele challenge for my in going series “The Photoshoot” request by @zablife

Cillian and Yael go back in time down to the highway f memories, no spoilers will be posted, don’t worry.

✨ “All I ask” Tommy Shelby x reader (one shot) for my Adele challenge song request by @runnning-outof-time

Still figuring out the plot for this

✨ “Love you in the dark” Tommy Shelby x reader (angst request) and I decided to base this on an Adele song as well request by @l1-l4

As Tommy got Grace pregnant, Y/N decides to move on, but Tommy keeps trying to win her back, there’s a battle between what they feel and what she needs to do.

✨ Cillian x reader “Dance” prompt tagged by @notyour-valentine 🥰

He decided to take it slow with the tequila that night, there would be plenty opportunities to get drunk but he got to celebrate ten years of marriage once.

Spotting the beautiful bride among the people around her, he smiled pleased.

“Mrs. Murphy?” He chuckled at her surprise. “May I have a word with the bride?”

And my on going series:

✨Look at the soul- Part 10

“Is this one of those stories they love to portray in movies right?”

Cillian looked at him confused.

“I’ve known you since you were a noisy teen, don’t try to fool me.” Enda adjusted the glasses on his nose. “You have fallen deep for her and I don’t blame you to be honest… I mean, who wouldn’t?”

Cillian’s eyes moved around the theater without locking eye contact with Enda. He remained quiet.

“It’s alright to move on, it’s been a while.

✨“The Photoshoot” - Part 47

“I just found out I got pregnant, this wasn’t planned but… it feels wrong in some way because I know the hard path you guys have been through.”

At first the news shocked him, but he couldn’t help but feel genuinely happy for his sister so he gave her a reassuring hug.

“Everything will be alright.” He added with a smile.

“I didn’t know how to tell you because I don’t want to hurt yours or Yael’s feelings.”

But he interrupted Orla immediately. “You don’t have to feel guilty about anything… let me deal with this.”

Deep down he knew he was trapped between two walls; feeling happy for his sister and guilty of telling his wife while they were trying to adopt.

“Congratulations.” His hand came to rest on his sister’s head in a tender touch.

Bonus: I’m working on a new Tommy Shelby series, but I want to have at least 4-5 parts before posting.

Oops I got carried away, but lately I’ve had so many ideas and I don’t want to have my drafts piled up…

Tagging no pressure: @notyour-valentine @everythingelseisextra @zablife @theshelbyclan @raincoffeeandfandoms

[caramelcoffeeaddict]

thank you for tagging me @forabeatofadrum! I originally wasn't going to do a Six Sentence Sunday today because I don't have a lot of my Back-To-School fic written yet, so I didn't think I had anything to share that wouldn't spoil anything. but I think I figured out what I want to do with my Rockstar!Blaine fic that's just been collecting dust for the past few years in my drafts folder. and since that already has about 50k words written, I'm going to share a little bit of that today. and hopefully, when Avoiding My Secret Admirer is done and posted (in September), I will get to work on finishing Breaking Stereotypes. *fingers crossed*

-

The Saturday after Blaine and Kurt had their consultation, Breaking Stereotypes was playing at a small indoor music festival in New Jersey. Blaine was standing in his spare bedroom – that he’d converted into a walk-in closet – trying to decide what to wear, when he got an idea. He hurriedly tried on the two outfits he was trying to choose between and took pictures of himself wearing each of them. Once the pictures were taken, he searched his phone contacts until he found the person he was looking for.

To Kurt > From Blaine: My band has a gig tonight. I was wondering if you could help me out with some fashion advice?

[titconao3]

how are you getting the best snape art posts??? honestly your tumblr + curation is so good <3

Oh hello!

and thank you <3 unexpected, but welcome!

So, er, methodology, eh? The short version: er, i see some art, i look at OP's tags, find a promising one such as "my art" or "(fandom) art" or "(character) art" and... go through it.

More under the cut, it got long. (Method in the madness or Madness in the method, i'll let you decide!)

Bear in mind that i Tumblr on a computer, using a browser, while using XKit (these days, it's XKit Rewritten): for most of my fandoms i have a pre-made tag bundle, so that's just a quick hover, scroll, and click each time. Well, click-click, one for [fandom] and one for 'fanart.' i draft all the posts then queue them alternating fandoms. All are tagged so that if anyone follows me (not that many people) they can easily filter out stuff they're not into. Once things are queued, they're also liked, so that whenever i see that art (or not art) post again, i know not to reblog it again. i have More Than Enough to queue already ^_^;; (so much more omg)

Most of the time i will reblog OP's own art and not reposts or posts from another website (sometimes it's the own artist's IG art, so that's alright, sometimes it's also from a deleted account.)

If the artist posts little, or lots but i like their posts, or most of what i'm not into i can easily filter out (i only filter tags, at least for now), then i may follow. i keep my dash manageable enough that i don't miss posts.

There are happy surprises because people aren't always systematic with tagging, so along the way i'll find other artists, draft the piece i noticed, and later when i have time i'll do the "go through OP's art stuff" thing. It can get a bit overwhelming when i get back in the drafts folder, if i've been away from home for a while and spent little time on a proper computer or laptop for days.

i also follow a couple of fandomedit tags (not fandom or character tags; that way lies madness and way too much discourse for me, tyvm), but only a small number and in fandoms where there is not a tsunami of new stuff every day.

Basically the clue is that i'm being a little Extra about things ;-) i do try to curb that down, because i've ended many times drafting then queuing all the art from every artist i found in a specific fandom, even when i wasn't in love with all the works, because i felt bad not reblogging them all (no, i'm not neurotic about stuff, why do you ask?). It's even sillier given that my drafts folder is so bloated that of course i haven't reblogged all the art stored there. In some fandoms i try to simply reblog the art i see from folks i follow and otherwise sit on my hands so i don't go down the rabbit hole of 'must check every work from every artist i see in every fandom i'm in.' That way lies madness; my drafts folder is already too unmanageable as it is.

i also am only on Tumblr, not twitgram, instatok, snapbook, or wherever fandom is happening these days. Well, i have a DW, for example, but i don't really go there often beyond posting my fic (sometimes weeks after i posted it on AO3) and managing event accounts (sibling blogs to those on Tumblr). i do use Discord but i vastly prefer one-on-one chats to group chats so i rarely wander into servers. i have to when i'm promoting an event i'm organising so i can do it when the stakes are high ;-) but it does mean that while Tumblr takes a lot of my online life, it's the only social media i spend any time on.

My use of tumblr is very much read/reblog: i don't post personal stuff here either, about myself, my woes, or my writing beyond the occasional 'i wrote this' post, and even that is not systematic. To me, it looks like it's either 1/ people See you and you become a potential target (or at best it becomes a job because if you do become popular, there will be more demands on your time and energy: can you reblog this? what's your opinion on that? etc), or 2/ people ignore you while you're writing stuff on a public platform because you don't want to be ignored, so you'd probably feel bad about it. However, reblogging art/gifsets etc makes the creator happy (well, i hope), so that's good. Although sometimes i see posts on how creators would like to see enthusiastic tags about why rebloggers like their work, but that would be extra work and pressure to say the right thing, so i don't. i still worry about it of course. #lifestyle ;-)

So i don't know if that's what you wanted to hear, but kudos if you got here, because that's quite a chunk of overly-tweaked text for what was probably just a throwaway note... oops?

[iris-sistibly]

It was the hour of the owl, everyone except the guards on night’s watch had retired to their beds. After a long day, the castle was finally at peace…

Rhaenyra Targaryen stood by the window of the bedroom she shares with her husband. Her eyes on the starry night sky, a hand on her belly, her mind lost in her thoughts yet again. The next moon, she was set to bring another child into the world. Her sixth, and her third with Daemon. Ironic at how she hated the idea of childbirth when she was younger, yet here she was with another life inside her womb. She always dreaded the excruciating pain of labor and birthing, but the loud wails of every child she pushed out into this world was like music to her ears. Each time a squirming babe is placed in her arms, she is overwhelmed with joy. Raising them, and witnessing them grow into such handsome and good men was the best reward she could ever ask for. Being a mother to her children was something she loved the most, and Rhaenyra vowed that this child inside her will be just as loved, guided and cared for as her siblings.

Rhaenyra hoped that one day, her daughter would grow into a beautiful, fearless dragonrider, but also a wise, loving, and kind woman. And may she be delighted by the realm more than Rhaenyra has ever been.

Moments later, the princess felt a pair of arms wrap around her swollen belly. Even without looking, Rhaenyra knew who it was, the familiar scent, the warmth of his body against hers, his lips pressing against her shoulder, his ability to effortlessly sweep her off her feet. Daemon Targaryen whispered in her ear, "Can't sleep my love?"

Rhaenyra shook her head, "I've been thinking…"

"Of what?"

"A name for the babe…" the princess answered, "She needs a name Daemon."

"She? You sound so certain that we'll be having a girl," Daemon sounded rather amused. Rhaenyra on the other hand shrugged, "I just know," she answered.

The former chuckled, "Alright then, what do you have in mind?"

Rhaenyra smiled and turned around to face him, "Visenya," she said dreamily. She has always harbored admiration for the conqueror’s queen–beautiful, strong, powerful woman. Had her late brother Baelon been a girl, she would have named him as such. But ever since she found out that she has conceived once more, she always had this feeling that she would be having a daughter…her very own Visenya.

Daemon smiled back and claimed her lips, then rested his forehead against hers, "A fitting name for a fine dragon indeed."

-Visenya (by: Iris)

A/N: Hellooooooo! Before the year ends, I’m posting some stuff from my drafts folder that I either:

Never had the chance to finish but finally had the motivation to do so.

Didn’t post it because I wasn’t confident or satisfied with my work.

Didn’t edit them sooner because I was either busy or feeling lazy af.

Anyway,

The HoTD fever hasn’t completely worn off my entire system yet, and the truth of the matter is…I miss the show. The first time I wrote a Daemyra fanfic was waaaay back after episode 4 (*clears throat* the brothel scene) was aired. Still haven’t gotten over the fact that there were so many great scenes that they left out, and felt worse when Matt actually campaigned for some of it (three I think?) to be included but was unsuccessful.

Anyhoo…this scene has been in my head for quite awhile, I started writing the first half of it way back in mid-November but…I decided to delete the first part. Not that I hated it, but perhaps I just wanted to highlight this particular Daemyra moment because I hated how they were written (Daemon particularly) in the season finale. AGAIN, Daemon loves his daughters, his wife and stepsons, I don’t care how the screenwriters wrote him in the show.

P.S. This scene that I had in mind was set a couple of days (or weeks, I really don't care) before Daemon and Rhaenyra returned to King’s Landing to defend Luke’s claim to Driftmark. When they were living peacefully with their kiddos in Dragonstone. Also, I like the idea of them sharing the same bed because they’re not the typical royal husband and wife of their time.