#i ain't tagging all of them but just having some fun with the magic

[sweatandwoe]

@ghuleh-recs for you, some fun ghoul headcanons and that have them a bit more magical/monstery

Demons never did look the exact same. Even those that were from the same types would all have their differences. The little things that made them unique. 

The Ghouls in the band were no different. 

Mountain was tall for an Earth Ghoul, who were usually more short and stocky. When unglamoured, you could see the grey stone that made up his skin, with bark stretching out over his arms and the top of his head. A canopy of leaves where hair should’ve been, with horns that were more similar to antlers. When little branches would try to grow out of the cracks of stone or along his hand, he would take the time to trim them. When asked why he had only shrugged his shoulders and declared, ‘I don’t want to cut anyone if they get close.’ 

The air ghoulettes were all different too. When not wearing their masks, they would use wind to take off their glamorous and create different shapes of hair with clouds. They would take the time to style it, to use their wind to carve it into little shapes or none at all. Their skin was different too, each having a different shade of the sky. Cumulus's skin was blue-grey, with a hint of cold always to it, and the scent of fresh rain always seemed to follow her. Cirrus was the pink and yellow of a summer dawn, and her hair would form into the shape of sun rays. Aurora’s skin was the perfect shade of a midnight sky, with glowing colours dancing along it. All of them carrying freckles made of stars. 

Rain was thin for a water ghoul, who were usually much more plump and blubbery. But he had the same scaly skin, soft pale blue, and the thick tail that all water ghouls seemed to have. For a water ghoul, he oddly preferred to be next to the water than in it. And perhaps that’s why he was such a perfect fit for the band who would be spending considerable time out of the water. 

The Quintessence ghouls were pale and grey and had simple horns. Out of all of them, they were the most alike. Their eyes would be the telling point, always wild changing colours. And they would often change. Aether’s eyes would go from lilac to green when he could see the emotions stirring in the air, could feel the shift in them like one would feel a breeze. 

The multi-ghouls were the most human-like, as they had human blood in their lines. They were meant to draw people in, to distract, to scheme. Pretenders to the people they served, at least the ones outside the ministry were. Swiss used his mostly human appearance to only help others, and maybe for a harmless prank or two. But even then, he still had sharper teeth with nails never seemed to stop growing naturally into a claw shape. His eyes too always seemed to switch between rounded pupils and the more slit-like, similar to a cat or a snake. 

And then there were the fire ghouls. Ghouls who could survive any heat or temperature. Ghouls who would often remove their glamour by lighting themselves on fire with their magic, melting it away to reveal fiery skulls with carefully carved patterns in the bone, and bright embers in the sockets for eyes. Some never showed their skulls, instead using flames for hair that never burned their surroundings. Unless they wanted to. 

(trying to write fic and deciding to cut out a big portion of it but still wanting to use it) do you want to hear about how I imagine the ghouls

[cherubfae]

𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔰𝔥𝔯𝔲𝔫𝔨! || {𝔥𝔞𝔷𝔟𝔦𝔫 𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔩}

tags: gn!reader, ftm!reader for angie, fluff, comedy, established relationships

Alastor

He is quite amused by the whole ordeal, if not a touch worried for your wellbeing. You're utterly tiny, capable of sitting in the palm of his hand like a tiny doll. His claw gently nudges your cheek, tilting your chin up. Using his own magic proves to be futile. After several attempts he's still unable to change you back to your normal self. He isn't sure why his powers don't seem to be taking effect.

Alastor doesn't let anyone else touch or hold you. Legit will hold you in his hand above his head should Vaggie or Charlie try to get a better look at you.

"No, no, no," Alastor clicks his tongue. "I'm afraid I'm not comfortable in letting my dearest love be held by anyone but me. Surely, you understand." He gives you a little smile, his thumb gently stroking your head.

You aren't a little toy and the last thing he wants happening if Niffty mistaking you for a roach, so he prefers to have you sitting atop his shoulder, his head, or safely tucked into the pocket of his waistcoat with your tiny little head poking out to watch the world around you. As much as he finds you adorable and vulnerable in this state, he does prefer you as yourself. He'll probably head to Rosie first, he wants nothing to do with Lucifer. She always has her ear to the ground and he's certain he'll get you returned to normal soon.

Lucifer

Well, that's new. Lucifer is easily able to turn you back to yourself but he wants to have a little fun first. He lifts you up and presses little kisses all over your face, giggling to himself when you press your hands to his rosy cheeks.

"Can't help it, sweetheart! You're too cute!" He gently nuzzles your cheek, placing a loving kiss to the top of your head. He'll shapeshift himself into a mouse and pretend that you're a little fairy about to battle for Narnia.

When he finally turns you back, he is relieved. He much prefers you as your lovely self where you're able to snuggle into his side and hold you properly to his chest, sharing many kisses between you two.

Husk

Shit, this ain't good, but at least yer havin' fun, baby. Husk sighs, leaning his chin against his paws. His yellow eyes flick back and forth in amusement as you treat the bar counter like your own slip-and-slide, watching as you spin around on the shiny wood with a small squeak.

Husk catches you with his tail before you can slide off, lightly placing you back on your feet mirroring the grin you give him. "I'm glad you're having a good time but we gotta figure out how to turn ya back, hun." He leans back against the stool, hoping Charlie has found something or someone who may be able to offer some help.

Charlie, on queue, comes rushing down the stairs holding a light pink pearlescent vial in her hands. "Let's try this!" She stands triumphantly, proudly holding out the vial in her hands. "A drop or two on their head should bring them back to normal height. I have a feeling this will work, but as Plan B we can go to my Dad!" She beams.

Husk nods, giving you a tiny peck on top of your head that only serves to make Charlie coo. Placing you on the floor, Charlie uncaps the vial. A shimmery fuschia-purple liquid smelling of sweet berries oozes out and gently drops onto your head.

A whoosh of pink and yellow unfurls out and soon you're standing before them as mostly yourself. Your hair is now a dyed vibrant pink. Across the room, Alastor who is casually reading the newspaper, snaps his fingers and poof! Your hair is back to normal!

"You could've helped them this whole time?!" Husk hisses, fur bristling. Alastor hums, taking a sip of his black coffee, "Hmm no, just their hair. Good thing they're back in one piece, yes?" He grins. "Too bad you didn't play a little cat and mouse with them. That would have been a sight to behold!"

Angel Dust

As adorable as you are, Angel is fuckin panicking. He's not quite sure what to do and he's terrified of someone accidentally stepping on you. "Okay, baby, I've got ya, hang on!" Angel places you on his chest fluff, his hand holding you in place. Upon returning to his room, Angel begins to pace, wracking his brain for some sort of quick fix.

Depending on how long this magic lasts, Angel will 100% want to play dress up with you and have you try on cute outfits or perhaps make a cute little dollhouse for you. He's too scared of crushing you in his sleep so until this wears off, he doesn't want to risk anything happening to you. He's also worried about Niffty mistaking you for a bug, so when he's out and about, he keeps you close to him at all times. If he has to leave and can't take you with, he instructs Vaggie and Charlie to look after you.

"Do not let Niffty or the Egg Bois around them, got it?" His stern eyes are narrowed, making an expression that he's watching Sir Pentious. "Keep the Eggies in line."

Vox

What the fuck? He blinks, a jolt of electricity nearly short-circuiting himself. "Babe, what the fuck happened to you?" Vox scoops you into his hands, holding you to his chest. He's doing his best not to panic, convinced this is another one of Alastor's stupid fucking pranks. (Alastor has done absolutely nothing. However, Vox swears any inconvenience that happens to him is caused by Alastor's hands.)

Thankfully whatever has happened wasn't permanent. A tiny explosion of sparkles and a poof blue dust has the futuristic demon stumbling back, sighing when you're standing there at your normal height with a hand pressed to your head.

"Holy shit, what the fuck happened?" Vox presses, grasping your hand and pulling you into his lap. He's cupping your face between clawed hands checking for any sign of injury. "Was it Alastor?" You shake your head, coughing out some blue sparkly dust.

"Nah, got caught under some pollen demon's magic on my way to HQ." You grumble, leaning your head onto your boyfriend's shoulder. Vox sighs, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Ok, ok, well, you're back," he grumbles. "Don't do that to me again."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[bunnypeew]

The king of hell sweetheart- Lucifer x Gn!reader

okay so today I'm pretty creative so I'm writing another short or perhaps long fic we'll see how things go but for now, enjoy the story~

warnings: creep being a creep lmao, a little bit of violence

It had been a while since Y/n and Lucifer became a thing, and it was no secret either, everyone at the hotel knew of the two lovebirds especially Charlie who was very happy her father finally found someone after the sad years he had spent alone.

So that was that they spent most of their days out on dates or doing god knows what, but today in particular Lucifer was busy with a meeting with the sins or something like that. so Y/n was spending their time doing errands for the hotel. In particular today they had to go outside to get some stuff that Charlie told them to so they did. They had to go far into the deeper parts of Pentagram City. Since they were quite new to hell, they were unfamiliar with those parts of the city. They were pretty scared of what would happen if they went alone because so far they always left the hotel accompanied by Lucifer, the king of hell himself, and they were pretty sure that at least some people in Pentagram City knew who they were and that scared them.

Nonetheless, they went anyway to get the errands done. It was quite a long way to walk since they didn't have a car, of course, they weren't one to complain or to refuse a nice walk, as nice as hell could get, so they did just that.

As they arrived at the place they had to go to and do their errands they were ready to leave until someone stopped them in a quite weird and violent way so to say

''hey doll, you looking to have some fun?~,,

this rather tall demon grabbed their wrist and spoke in a low and husky voice the sentence, he was definitely drunk or perhaps under the influence of something. Y/n tried to free their wrist from the grasp of the guy in front of them, without trying to look mad

''em no thank you I'd rather not, I'm actually pretty busy I have to get back to my house-,,

they said almost in a whisper since they were terrified of what this guy might have done to them, still, they were trying their best not to look scared

''oh come now sweet I don't bite now, do I? It will take just a little bit,,

the situation was getting heated as this guy was almost grinding on them at this point, with disgust in their face they tried again to get free from the creep's grasp. They suddenly remember that Lucifer had given them this gift in case of needed teleportation or simply to have a word, it was a thin bracelet around their wrist with a little duck charm hanging from it, a little thug on said charm and he would've been alerted that they needed something. Sadly the bracelet was under the grasp of the creep so they couldn't really do much but try to tag away from him with all the force they had, and that they did, making them fall backwards and hit their butt on the concrete floor but giving them enough time to pull the charm. As soon as that happened a magical golden portal appeared in front of them letting out a rather concerned Lucifer.

''My darling what is the matter? why are you on the floor?,,

he said soon after turning around to face them, trying to give them a hand he noticed the look of pure fear on their face and looked very confused at first until the creep, now behind Lucifer, spoke

''Oh so you are the devil sweetheart, quite convenient ain't it?,,

he says with a smirk on his face and a knife in his hand, looking very threatening towards Lucifer. Said Fallen Angel wasn't scared one bit

''you know who I am and you still threaten me, that's really interesting,,

Lucifer then simply snaps his fingers and the creep turns to stone right away, just like that. He gets close to the now stone creep and pushes him slightly for him to fall to the ground and shatter completely. Y/n had a hand over their mouth and looked in shock at everything that happened only to then see Lucifer bend down in front of them with a sweet look in his eyes and a hand on their cheek

''everything is okay my sweetheart, let's get you back to the Hotel okay?,,

they slightly nod, taking his hand to get back on their feet, Lucifer then plants a kiss on their forehead, pressing his forehead to theirs soon after, seeing that they were still a bit shocked

''you are safe now,,

he says now placing a kiss on their lips and picking them up to then teleport the both of them to the hotel, they were now safe and sound

a/n: soooooo this was actually quite a long one huh? I love Lucifer as much as I love Alastor so it was really nice to get to write him as well :3c

[theworldreturning]

So the Askapalooza is officially over, now what?

So the Askapalooza has ended, and I did say that the end result of what would happen to this blog would depend on what I thought about things by the end. So here's what I personally feel is going to happen.

I personally enjoyed being able to answer questions that people had about the characters in this specific version of the world, silly or not! It was fun to think about what they would get up to even if it was mundane or not super serious at all.

I do, however, feel that the idea for the blog was a bit too vague for most people to engage with, and that is my fault for not giving much to mull over. So what I'm going to be doing with this blog going forward is this:

- The blog is going to continue existing, and you'll still be very much able to ask questions! The experience was good enough that I'm more than happy to keep it going, even if responses won't be as quick as they were during the Askapalooza.

- Aside from answering asks, I'm also thinking of posting all things relating to this AU to this blog as well. (Character design sheets, character facts, silly headcanons, and events I feel would be "canon" to this AU) Hopefully it can add more intrigue and context and spark some questions for those interested!

- For the "Canon events" (basically story events): They won't at ALL be posted in any chronological order. Maybe in the future I'll make a master post showing the events as chronologically as possible, but for now I'm just showing things that happened as things that happened. Unless stated, don't assume it's all happening in the moment, in fact most canon events at first will probably be past events.

- I WILL help with putting what point in time these events happen for context on the post itself. A system I was thinking of using was something like this: [O.W., M1, Magicant, Visit 1] This would read as: "The events in this post happened in the Old World (O.W.), during the time of Mother 1 (M1), specifically the first magicant visit." Events set in the New World will start with N.W. and work the same way: World, "game", Place, Specifics (if any).

- Lore will DEFINITELY be more fleshed out than it was during the Askapalooza. I joined basically last minute, so I didn't have anything exciting to share. Sometimes I may just do text posts about some minor canon things that wouldn't warrant a whole drawn post.

- I'll probably work on this blog in short bursts as I get ideas. I'll basically be trying my best to queue up posts that I have as I make them, leave for a bit, and come back and do it again.

Aside from that, I'll also be slowly working on making the blog look more finished, instead of just using whatever images I had in store. Again, this was set up pretty last minute, so the presentation ain't the best.

Aside from still using the askapalooza tags, non-question posts will use the fandom tags as well to help more people find the blog. Question posts will just keep the AU tag and Askapalooza tags cause I don't want to flood the normal fanbase tags with them if they happen to get too many.

In any case, this is what's happening from now on.

TL;DR: Blog is staying up, you can still send asks. Anything relating to the Au will be posted here. There'll be more fleshed out lore and such as a result. Blog will be updated in short bursts as I see fit.

[silver-wield]

Ffxvi ending spoilers

I'll tag this too, but this is your warning, I'm about to rant about the ending.

Because I didn't like it.

Lemme preface by saying I loved the game! Love Clive, Jill and everyone else in the cast, except Annabel, she's a bitch and deserves to die. Main story is great, sidequests great, combat is fun and it's great. Except the ending.

It's one thing to pepper hints throughout the story when you have a hero who maybe hasn't done as much to earn the definitive ending you, as a player, expect, and wind up with some ambiguity as to their fate.

It's totally okay to have secondary characters' fates left up in the air and wondering what became of them because they are not your primary hero.

It is not fucking okay to throw out not one, not two, but four ambiguous ending hooks when a hero such as Clive has literally done everything humanly possible to earn the kind of ending you see in ffix, with our hero returning home to his loved ones.

Onto the actual ending. Last chance to dip.

No pics except at the end, but I will be describing what happened.

Last chance fr

Can't say I didn't warn yall.

After Clive defeats Ultima and destroys the crystal, we pull back to see it crumble. Now, if you were going for an ambiguous ending, at this point you would leave Clive there and not return. It's a stupidly high drop and it would leave his fate literally up in the air.

Nope. We see he survives the thousands of feet fall into the ocean and makes it to shore.

We rejoice, believing he'll be okay and keep his promise to Jill to return and actually save himself along with everyone else like she's been begging him this whole time.

Haha, you thought.

Clive attempts to use magic, only for his hand to petrify. He smiles, knowing he's succeeded for definite. And then come some last words as he stares at the star he recalls Jill making a wish on, and his hand falls to the sand in the typical symbolism for death, which we've seen multiple times not only in this game but across FF.

Cut to Jill, staring at the star, which winks out of existence. She bursts into tears and runs to the deck, fearful it means Clive's dead. Torgal howls, mourning his master, and that should be clue enough that Clive is dead because Torgal never gave up looking for Clive all the years they were apart.

Then, comes the pathetic trope of the "light of hope" as the sun rises, and we see Jill's tears stop as she looks at the horizon.

I saw someone say they spent a stupid amount of time looking for a boat and claiming Clive is rowing back to her, but you have to look reaaaaaaally hard to see it. That's because there is no boat. There is no boat.

Jill is recalling her own words and hoping Clive will return to her just like the sun rises, and that's what we're supposed to cling to. Her words, along with all the other "hints" left along the way about Clive saving himself, how he should hang up his sword and pick up a quill (and I'll get to that in a second) and all the plans he makes for a life once things are over are meant to make us hopeful he's alive, despite the previous scene of deathly symbolism.

Then come the credits. No, we didn't see anybody else at the Hideaway besides a short moment with Gav, Mid and Edda, so literally everyone's fate across the realm is left open ended, which is so fucking unsatisfying. As unsatisfying as the ending to ffxv when we see empty landscapes because most of the fucking population across the planet is dead bar a few pathetic survivors huddled in Lestalum, who we don't even see enjoying the "new light of hope" because apparently a view of a barren landscape is meant to be good enough (and then came the dlc with one alt ending and a novel with a "definitive" ending that erases the original canon one because they fucked up so much they couldn't even work out how to end the damn game. Showing a mostly dead world with a "hopeful sunrise" ain't it. Nobody's alive to enjoy the fucking hope!)

Anyway, this is not a ffxv rant, so moving on. After the credits is a short scene of a beautiful cottage surrounded by greenery and flowers with two boys and a smol dog. The elder boy has Clive's dark hair and the younger has Joshua's hair colour. They're doing chores without magic and lamenting that magic and eikons are fairytales and Clive's favourite play makes a reference as well.

We end on a book written by Joshua Rosfield that depicts the war of eikons that the boys are pretending to play out in the garden.

And that's our fourth "did he live?" moment, using Harpocrates words about picking up a quill, and taking on his dead brother's name so it might always be remembered the way he took Cid's name on, Clive writes about his people's deeds. But did he? Or was it one of the Undying who penned it and listed Joshua, their lord, as the author?

But you know what? I don't give a fuck about some distant future where Clive's efforts pay off and the world is free and safe. It was a fucking given that would work out.

What I cared about and wanted to see was the characters I cared about being free and safe.

Throwing some NPC children with Clive and Joshua's hair colours at us as some consolation prize while Clive finished either dead or unconscious alone on a beach and Jill is sobbing is not the ending any of us laboured for. We have no attachment to these children, and the weird fucking hint about reincarnation or whatever that was, is fucking stupid and undermines everything about them living and dying on their own terms. The idea that Clive and Joshua, having been imbued with the power of the phoenix will rise again in some distant and free land, undermines everything they did in destroying magic and eikons and crystals. It's not a good enough ending when it comes off the back of the absolute fuck all that came before the credits and reincarnations were never introduced as a concept in the entire game.

Maybe if they showed Clive alive and reunited with his loved ones it would be a further heartwarming moment to see his and Joshua's souls together in another life. Their bond is such a huge part of what makes the story so damn good, but as it is, it feels cheap and flatter than a pancake to end like this.

It's clear the devs teams eyes are on future dlc to pick up where this "ending" left off and hopefully provide the fulfillment we expected, but to have the canon ending at this point of their next gen mainline FF game be so disappointing and low note just isn't good enough.

And people can say there's hints all over and we just need to look, but after everything Clive went through, we deserved a little more certainty of his survival.

All we needed was a boat on the horizon.

[willshipanything-blog]

Breaking the Rules- Chapter 12

If you're a fan of Max Shaw, I have some good news...

Omg this chapter was just so fun to write, it's a complete ball of fluff and cute family moments. If that ain't your thing, there's smut and angst just around the corner next chapter!

As always, minors DNI, full tags on AO3 where the fic is also posted here

Full Chapter Index here

Enjoy lovelies! 💜✨✌️

Chapter 12- Past Lives

In your enervated state, your mind could barely process a single intelligible thought, a blurred montage of the previous night. A movie reel projecting into your mind, fleeting images and memories and sensations. Just remnants, scraps of recollections now, but each frame that illuminated behind closed eyelids transmitted something so vivid and visceral. A hint of cedar and sweat pervading your nostrils. A sudden remembrance of a bolt burning through you- the memory of every goddamn nerve ending in your body being zapped. A rush of sounds: a breathy grunt; a keening whimper, a low chuckle. A flash of cerulean blue as he brought you back into the light, back to the comforting ocean of his eyes before you drowned in the pleasure.

Blinking awake, you packed away those hazy film reels in your mind. You could rewatch those moments of pleasure anytime, the way Al had run laps around your spent body, the way his tongue had run laps…. no, Y/N. You needed to focus on a different aspect of your devilish rogue right now. Address your Al problem before it became a neverending carousel of distraction to cloud doubt, distraction and doubt, distraction and doubt.

Al had his trained evasiveness, his pretty words meant to misdirect, his sleight of hand that played convincing tricks on your body, but you saw beyond the backdrop now. Last night’s distraction hadn’t been totally unwanted, but as much as you enjoyed playing magician’s assistant in his carnal production, it was time for the curtain to drop. No more encores. 

The smoke had dissipated, the mirrors smashed, and you surfaced the morning after with fresh lucidity, a plan already half-forming in your mind. Rebuilding those structures which had crumbled to forgotten ruins under Al’s magic hands last night. You needed to compartmentalize your feelings; sequester those lustful desires and bring those almost-certain doubts and burning questions to the forefront of your mind. It wouldn’t be so hard, stowing away one set of feelings to allow another to come into sole focus. It was, after all, a skill you’d had plenty of practice at- your own parlor trick originating from your time in the Grabber’s captivity. 

And once those questions were on your tongue, you’d spill them, come right out and just ask about that fucking house. You needed a straight answer. The beckoning tree, wrapped in brittle deadwood, practically begging you to question what lay behind those four walls. The grime-encrusted windows daring you to wipe away the filth to peek inside. The potential of accusing him of a lie- well, to hell with delicacy. Al had hardly been subtle with his amorous diversions last night, so why should you skirt around the issue? If he wasn’t forthcoming with any lies he was still holding close to his chest, you’d just have to wheedle them out of him. You expected honesty these days. You deserved it. Al had partly delivered on that promise, too- recounting the harrowing aspects of his childhood, facing what he’d done as the Grabber instead of denying those actions. A little more honesty might not be so big a push. 

The only real difficulty might be finding a free moment alone: with Max still at the house, you couldn’t dare mention anything for fear of being overheard, and you didn’t want to cause any more tension with Max there, not after you’d already caused an uncomfortable friction at the dinner table the other night. Mentioning the house at all had only led to some obvious feelings of resentment (on Al’s part), regret (coming from Max) and disappointment, for both the Shaw brothers. 

But it might not be long til Max moved out, you supposed- he was looking at apartments after all. You figured you could carry the weight of it on your shoulders a little while- the worry about what Al was hiding, the guilt of falsely accusing him, the heavy peach pit in your stomach at the thought of another combative confrontation that could end up hurting the both of you. It would only be a little while longer. As pervading and intrusive as those swirling doubts in your head were, you wondered how much of a mental toil they’d take on you. It might amount to Atlas carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for eternity- because to you, Al was your universe entirely. 

You’d slept in, your sated body needing the recuperation, so had missed Al leaving by an hour or so. When you finally trundled out of bed around nine and shuffled into the kitchen, you found Max hunched over the kitchen table. He looked disheveled but energetic as he simultaneously shoveled down scrambled eggs and pored over a pile of papers beside him. His creased Hawaiian shirt he’d worn yesterday (with the buttons now fastened one notch off), and the purple crescents under his eyes suggested Max hadn’t yet been to bed. You discerned you might have been partaking in similar activities last night, though Max hadn’t yet benefited from a good night’s sleep.

“Morning Max.”

“Shit! You scared me, Scout,” Max gasped through a mouthful of eggs. 

“I was hardly creeping. Besides, I thought you were staying with a friend last night?” you teased. Max rolled his eyes at your emphasis on friend, clearly ignoring the knowing smirk creeping across your face at the implication of what ‘staying over’ meant. 

“Ah, I’m not really the staying type now, am I?” he gave a sideways half-smile, though the spirited glint in his brown eyes wasn’t quite there when he spoke. You wondered whether his comment was pertinent to just last night, or his erratic behavior as a whole, resistant (or unable) to stay in one place too long, whether that be a place- or a relationship. Before you’d had a chance to begin unraveling that thread, Max had reverted to his usual ebullient self, slamming his hands on the table with fervor.

“Anyway! I got back so late it was practically early, and the mail had come! And guess what?” he asked, his voice not dissimilar from Al’s singsong warble. He waved around one of the sheets of paper he’d been studying in hint, exhaling a playful scoff as you smiled and shrugged, as if you should have been able to predict what it said. “The paperwork all came through. I’m moving this weekend!”

And just like that, in that one fortuitous sentence, your timeline shifted. You only had to wait a few days until you were able to ask those questions that were pressing against your mind, a splitting headache of confusion and doubt. That worry would only fester beneath the surface for a little while longer. Once Max was gone, you could peel back the dressing on that wound and attend to it in the privacy you and Al were soon to share. Yes, just a few short days to enjoy the familial warmth of a full house before it would just be a home for you and Al again (and a time, you thought, when confrontation and questions would be more apt). Al had been the cause of your last distraction, and now it was Max’s turn to take your attention away from your anxieties. After that? You’d have to see your plan through, take the plunge and ask. But for now, you privately welcomed the distraction Max had unknowingly created.

The sudden domestic development, and everything that needed doing, would allow you to forget those troubles. There’d be packing, cleaning, making lists for the brothers to buy furniture and household items for Max’s new place, scouring thrift stores and outlets for things Max would need. You couldn’t go yourself to help, but you could oversee plans from the living room couch easily enough. Although, the thought of what garish furniture Max might buy without supervision did worry you somewhat. In any case, you would allow the excitement and bustle which would occupy the next couple days to overtake the worry.

As predicted, the days rushed by, a blitz of cardboard boxes and packing tape, final signatures on paperwork and, through all the excited anticipation, just a hint of something coming to an end. It wasn’t like Max was saying his final goodbyes- he was leaving the house, not your lives, after all. But you made sure to cook all of Max’s favorite foods in those last few days: pork chops, mac and cheese, peach cobbler. If he was reminded of what he’d be missing out on, he’d be sure to come back for dinner often, which he promised without hesitation. 

On Saturday morning, Max got back from picking up his new keys, his precious cherry-red vintage Firesweep pulling up with a shrill screech outside the house just as Al was loading the last of his brother’s belongings into his van. Al had insisted he didn’t need help with the boxes and pieces of furniture, perhaps sensing your hesitancy around the van. You had only been in it once, and the memory of that day- you being taken, that rancid taste in your mouth, being beaten into unconsciousness by the Grabber- were not triggers you needed today. Not any day at all, really. Instead, you busied yourself trying to tire Samson out, playing tug of war with his favorite rope toy- only to realize how outmatched by the dog’s strength you were. You’d ended up aching and sweaty before you’d even started helping with the move.

“As always, Max, your timing is impeccable. Just missed out on the heavy lifting.” Al said dryly, slamming shut the double doors of the van as Max came bounding up the driveway. 

“Aww, I did? That’s a damn shame,” Max retorted, doing a downright terrible job of hiding his mirth. “Well, if we’re all packed and ready, shall we head out? Scout, you wanna ride with me and Sammy? You know I got better music!” Too excited to wait for an answer, he sprang back down to his car, Samson barking at his heels. 

You looked to Al, your eyes involuntarily flashing to the van for the briefest moment, drawn towards the bright blue and green insignia emblazoned on matte black. Abracadabra- Entertainment and Supplies. The memory of that first day threatened to emerge. Al distanced himself from the vehicle, his quick strides towards you bringing your eyes back to pinpoint on him.

“Hey, dove, you go ahead, hm? I’ll see you both at the house.” His voice was husky yet tender, those soothing tones you knew were reserved only for you. That black-clad magician, the top-hatted monster who had taken you that day, lured you in with a false trick, dragged you into the back of that van- he was as long-forgotten as those basement depths in which you no longer dwelled. You smiled softly at his earnest intentions and Al gave an assenting nod along with a final, teasing warning to try not to get killed going too fast, or pulled over by the cops. Turning to head to the car, you (only half-seriously) wondered which would be the worse of those two outcomes. Your smile dimmed just a little at the thought.

You ran the last few yards down the driveway, Max honking his horn with childish impatience to get to his new place. Even Samsom looked excited, already panting and drooling in the backseat, his giant head poking out of a window Max had half-rolled down. You’d barely slid onto the front bench seat beside Max before a riotous cacophony of sound and smell began. A sputtering engine, revving tires, a blast of thick smoke from the tailpipe and a resounding bark from the backseat, and the car peeled away from the curb, leaving Al and the van in the rearview mirror. You relaxed into the worn leather. Or at least, you relaxed as well as you could, considering Max had never installed seatbelts in the old model sedan. The blasting riffs of Led Zeppelin allowed your final few disquieting thoughts to fade away, as if you’d left them at the curb outside Al’s house. 

You looked towards Max, where he was trying to sing along whilst also humming the guitar parts and playing an invisible drum set on the steering wheel (all while driving, of course!), noting how his loose bowling shirt matched his precious Firesweep. Bright red, with a wide black collar. It reminded you of Al’s magician get-up, though the scarlet and black were inverted. Like how similar yet at odds the Shaw brothers often seemed to be- either very much alike or the others’ antithesis, never in the middle. Al the more quiet, gruff of the two, with an outwardly jaded personality at odds with the zealous energy that emerged when he was comfortable. And Max with his vibrant, warm extraversion, which shrouded a darkness underneath that most people would never suspect. It recalled the unease at the dinner table the other night, about the strain on the brothers’ relationship after Max had left, the younger brother’s guilt for those actions. But those regrets were long forgotten in this perfect moment, the wind whipping your hair with wild abandon and the sun beating down on your bare skin, the pounding music reverberating through your blood. The next song started, blasting Free’s ‘All Right Now’ on the radio- it felt like things really were. 

As Max pulled up outside his new house, Al was already waiting, leaned against the side of the van with his arms crossed against his chest. You discerned his mild annoyance even beneath those thick, red-brick colored sunglasses, although instead of greasepaint, an unimpressed expression was painted across his face. He’d not started unpacking the boxes, but the rear van doors were open, an invitation for Max to hopefully help a little more than he had earlier that morning. You figured the huff he gave was more from the heat than irritation, confirmed to you when Al blew air from the corner of his mouth to try and cool himself and wiped the back of his palm against his glistening brow. 

“And I thought speeding got people places quicker.” he said sardonically as he strolled along the sidewalk to the car as it pulled up with a final splutter of smoke.

“We stopped for gas!” Max explained, stepping out and leaning over the top of the car roof to speak to his brother. 

“And we got sodas too!” you chimed in as Al opened the passenger side door for you. You peeled yourself away from the hot leather seat, your ice-cold cola almost empty. 

“Here,” Max said, reaching to pass Al a cold bottle over the top of the car before guzzling down a glug of his own grape soda. “Scout said Sprite was your favorite.” You gave a sly smile as Al’s head snapped your way. You slunk away to let Samson out of the hot car, hearing Al chuckle softly before he popped the cap.

It was a small house, consisting of a living and kitchen area, bisected by an elevated breakfast bar that almost served to split the open plan space into two areas. A door from the living room led to the bedroom and attached bath, and another small back room with a washer dryer led out into a decent backyard- no flowers or trees, but plenty of grass and dirt for the dog to dig up (one thing Al definitely wouldn’t miss about his brother’s departure). Samson sniffed out each corner of the house with a judgemental nose, and once satisfied, busied himself digging in the small lawn out back, making his own personal renovations to the house. Whilst Al and Max began assembling the bed and wardrobe (not very successfully if the bickering was anything to go by), you took charge of unpacking the half dozen cardboard boxes in the main room. 

The first box you opened contained clothes, a flurry of garish colors- Max’s bold Hawaiian shirts. You set it aside ready to hang up later, if the wardrobe ever got assembled. You weren’t sure how to feel about the sudden whirr of an electric drill in the adjoining room. Grateful if Al was speeding things up; worried if Max was wielding power tools. The next box had a few kitchen items Max had bought in the week. You quickly put away the mismatched crockery, cutlery, pots and pans in the buttercup-yellow kitchen cupboards. Another box had soft furnishings and smaller furniture items: a cheerful afghan blanket you threw over the worn, second hand leather couch; a hideous ochre glass lamp you half-wished had smashed during the move; a few avocado-green couch cushions that clashed wonderfully with the orange shag carpet. You had to admit, the hodgepodge aesthetic of the decor had a certain Maxly charm about it, and you beamed at the eclectic space as you began flattening the now-empty cardboard boxes.

Or almost empty. You nearly missed it entirely, but a rustle as you picked up a seemingly empty box had you reaching in for a wadded envelope you hadn’t spotted earlier. You couldn’t help but open the yellowed envelope, your curiosity piqued at the possible contents. Lifting back the flap, you found a pile of photographs, perhaps a dozen or so. Different sizes and saturations (a mix of black and white, sepia and vivid color) suggested Max had collected and kept a select few over the years.  

They seemed to be ordered chronologically, a whole lifetime encapsulated in just a few sheets of paper and ink. Kneeling on the floor, you began to flick through them. 

A family portrait in shades of black and gray. On the right hand side of the image sat Max’s mother, holding her youngest son and smiling softly at the camera. Standing beside her, though still a head shorter than her, was Al. His hand reached out beside him to sit atop his mother’s, which itself was laid on Max’s pudgy leg. You might have convinced yourself the three of them were happy, though Al wore no smile and his large eyes of lightest gray looked solemn, boring into the lens as if in a silent plea. It grieved you to think that this boy, not even ten years old, had already known pains others could never comprehend. From whom that pain originated was clear: Max had torn the left hand side of the photo, ripping away any trace of who had stood there, as if attempting to cleave that demon from his life. No guesses for who used to occupy the nonexistent space, where only a ripped line now stood beside the family of three. You shuffled the picture to the back of the stack.

The next photo was familiar to you, Al having a larger copy of it on a side table in his own living room. It was the monochrome picture of the two brothers, Al still unsmiling (what had changed for him, except more years of abuse?) and Max, whose wide grin showed a kid still full of hope and innocence. A kid whose older brother played protector, affording Max a smile where Al couldn’t muster the same. You quickly shoved that to the back of the stack, happy to find there were no more photographs from Max’s childhood in his collection. 

You were lurched forward in time as more recent photos appeared, saturating your eyes with bright, bold colors as the decades ticked along. Max in his 20s, clean shaven and almost unrecognizable without his signature mustache, but that impossibly wide grin difficult to miss. Sitting amidst a group of people crowded round a small table in some dive bar. Long hair framed his face, like Al’s but jet-black, with a leather jacket to match. 

A little older now, a decade on you supposed. A small, square polaroid that someone had taken inside an old RV, somewhat bleached of color. Max was wearing a pastel shirt and wide flared jeans- not quite the vivid wardrobe he’d yet to adopt. He’d started to grow in his mustache though, the peach fuzz sitting just above his lips which clamped around a joint. His closed smile still broadcast a deep dimple on one of his cheeks, easy to spot even on the small, sun-flecked photo. He looked vivacious, happy- probably thanks in no small part to the pretty blond in heart shaped sunglasses sat beside him, slinging her long legs over Max’s lap, his hand roaming casually up her bare thigh. You smiled and shook your head in amusement before flicking again through the stack of photos.

Max looked close to his current age in the last in the stack. Probably only a few years old. This was corroborated by the state of the photo: unmarked by sun damage or tearing, though you discerned several smudged thumb marks along its border, like it had been handled frequently. It was a dark image, snapped around a campfire that seemed to crackle and spit as you held the paper in your hand, so vivid the oranges and golds that flecked from it. The two figures in the photo were illuminated by the flames, Max and another man of a similar lanky build, though the stranger was a little taller as they sat beside one another. Like Max, the unknown man also had a thick caterpillar mustache and dark sideburns, though his crinkled white shirt was at odds with Max’s tropical print. He was playing the guitar, but his lips stayed in a strange, lopsided smile- either humming along or playing a wordless song to the stars that dotted the backdrop of the photograph. Max was looking at the other man like an adoring fan, his chocolate-brown eyes shining in the firelight. Not smiling for a camera, but his teeth were bared in a candid smile. The picture emanated a serene, joyous aura. 

Snapshots from a dozen different cameras, each lens transmitting a dozen different lives. It was like you hardly knew Max at all, only glimpsing a small fragment of the whole. But you knew him now, in the current life he was creating. He had wanted to come back, to see his brother- and you too. It was a commitment he’d never braved before- he’d even gotten himself clean to make a real second go of Denver. And for his efforts, he’d been rewarded with a renewed relationship with Al, and a whole new friendship with you. A job too- and his own place! He was happy, you were positive- though it was hard to tell when Max was ever unhappy. He rarely wasn’t  smiling, always ready to showcase his pearly whites and impressive dimples, for a photograph or otherwise. And yet, a small voice inside you relentlessly questioned whether Max missed any of those previous lives. 

You knew Max had been traveling, on the move constantly with no fixed address. From what Al had suggested, you thought Max had been lonely and lost- yet some of those photos belied that narrative. Each photograph seemed like an alternate reality of what might have been had Max made different choices. Questions led to different possibilities, winding through labyrinthine tunnels, each question leading to a dozen new answers. What if Max hadn’t left? What if he’d have fallen in love and never come back? Had he ever been in love? What if he’d gotten cleaner sooner, or never fallen into that awful habit? You realized the futility of this logic- these were questions that only he could answer, a maze that only he could traverse. Right now, this life was the center of the maze, his final destination. Unless he decided to leave again, find a new path, whether it led somewhere new entirely or a complete dead end…

No, Max had decided to stay. Like you. Sticking close to Al, and now to you, which felt important- he was your best friend, after all. By default, technically (because who else but Al could you really trust to keep your dark secrets?), but that didn’t lessen the bond between you both. Still, a small part of you wondered whether you were both settling, staying put from some unuttered duty to Al. You, because you loved him. Because you wanted to protect him, even if that meant a life of secrecy: closed doors; drawn curtains; shuttered minds. And Max? You hoped he wasn’t merely staying out of some warped sense of repayment, some belated compensation given to Al for the years spent away from their hometown. His leaving was just a response to his own childhood- not a malicious act against his brother. It felt so much like he truly wanted this. So then why did you picture Max like a butterfly with its wings affixed to a spreading board? Pinned down, its sheen dimming day by day as it remained trapped in the same spot forever. 

Not wholly convinced one way or the other, you collated the pictures into a neat pile and placed them conspicuously on the kitchen counter, hoping Max might at least frame some of those memories. A reminder of the past. Or at least, the better parts of his past he’d cherished, cataloged through those dozen precious photographs. Even if he could never capture those moments again, they’d be forever printed in his mind. 

“Did ya look through those, Scout?” You gasped as you swiveled towards the sound, startled by the sudden interruption of your inner thoughts. Max merely sniggered. “Hey, I was hardly creeping.” he chuckled, echoing back your words from the other morning. His breeziness suggested the photos weren’t some shameful secret, and it eased your mind, having been worried he wanted to keep that envelope sealed and private. 

“Yeah, I had a peek. Hope that’s alright?”

“Oh, sure! Really oughta get some of those framed now I actually have walls of my own, huh?”

“That’d look lovely, Max. I can tell these are special to you.”

“Yeah. They are.” A truly sincere tone. Perhaps even a little melancholy. 

Max sauntered over to the breakfast bar, sitting in one of the second hand diner-style stools to look at the pictures. You hopped up onto the leather-padded stool beside him. The Shaw family portrait (minus one piece of shit father) lay on top of the pile, and Max fingered the ripped, jagged edge and smiled, seemingly happy to have cleaved that evil from the young family that sat beside it. With his soft smile and big brown eyes looking wistfully at the black and gray picture, he mirrored his mother in the photograph. He riffled through the rest, his expression fluctuating between shades of happiness and yearning, his rich brown eyes aglow as he thumbed his way down memory lane. He paused at the final picture in the pile, rubbing a thumb along the edge, adding another smudge to the fingerprint border of the campfire photo. 

“I think you’re missing something Max.”

He bristled, a flurry of murmurs tripping over his tongue as he tried to answer too quickly. “Whah- missing? No, it’s not like-” 

“Oh! No, I mean you have a picture missing. You haven’t got one with me!”

Max’s ears reddened at the confusion and he let out an embarrassed laugh. “Heh, of course. Knew what you meant! You’re right though, would be nice to have another family photo,” A family photo. You swallowed the sudden knot that had bloomed in your throat, eyes widening to try and stem the tears you felt bubbling behind them. “But I don’t have a camera right now.”

“We do! Al brought his in the van- it should be on the front seat if you wanna-”

Before you could say ‘grab it’, Max had leaped up from the stool with a clatter, heading out the front door just as Al emerged from the bedroom. Al gave an incredulous laugh. 

“At least one of us is breakin’ a sweat.” he huffed.

“C’mere,” You beckoned him with a finger and he obeyed, coming to stand between your thighs. “We’re getting a photo taken and you need to look your best, Mr Shaw.” On the stool, you sat high enough to straighten Al’s collar and tousle his ashy locks. He just smiled down at you with that wolfish sideways grin, hands resting on your thighs as you neatened him up. Once he thought you’d fussed enough over him, he hoisted you off the stool with a dramatic lift, eliciting a startled whoop from you. 

Max raced back into the house in a frenzy, and it took several minutes of him trying his best to organize how the photo was to be taken. Al stood around rolling his eyes with his arms crossed until you gave him an admonishing glare, after which he at least pretended to look more enthused. In the end, you knelt down beside Samson (he was family too!), with Al squatting behind you, his hand curling around your waist instinctively. Max dipped beside his brother as you took the photo. 

“Ok, we’ve got one shot so please don’t blink!” At least wasting reams of film previously had made you pretty handy with angling the camera just so. Max counted down from three, and as you snapped the button, a wetness along your cheek told you Samson picked the worst possible time to lick you, right as the flash went off. Not that Max minded- as he shook the developing photo, urging it to saturate quicker, he squealed as the picture slowly crept into life on the paper. Samson pouncing on you, your expression frozen between joy and alarm, half-wincing as his rough tongue daubed your cheek. Max, to nobody’s surprise, wore his wide grin, his dimples digging deep in his cheeks. Al had a smaller, more content smile, though he wasn’t looking at the camera. Those blue eyes were centered solely on you. You hadn’t noticed as you were taking the snapshot that Al and Max both had an arm around the other’s shoulder, and you wondered whether that brotherly gesture was as instinctive for Al as the arm resting on your hip in the photograph. You thought so. 

It seemed to you, as you looked down at the picture cupped in Max’s hand, this perfect, preserved memory, that all of you were happy. 

Al was happy. His life had been so short of moments like this, relationships this strong. But those around him weren’t going to hurt him, and because of that, he could shed that icy exterior, that hard shell created from hurt and hatred. He had bloomed into a man so far removed from the evil that had previously possessed him. You were happy- since you’d been taken, you’d never felt this full, this loved, in so many ways. You had someone you loved deeply, more deeply than you could almost bear at times, after you thought that an impossibility. You had gained a family when your other one had been torn asunder, forever lost to you. You were content too, even with those tragic separations and the still-present questions eddying around your head. 

Max was happy- you thought. You just prayed, out of all of the lives he’d lived, he was happy with this one. 

Max had found it strange to say goodbye to his brother and Y/N. Not because he and Scout had hugged tightly, which was pretty standard these days. Not because even Al had shared a brief hug with a farewell of ‘See ya, Maxie’ as they closed the door behind them. 

No, Max felt strange just saying goodbye at all. It’s not like he wasn’t going to see them again (even as he’d waved them off, he’d been invited over for dinner tomorrow, and he wasn’t about to pass up free lasagna), but the words felt strange in his mouth, like the rancid taste of orange juice after brushing your teeth.  

Goodbyes were an unfamiliar exchange; he’d normally hit the road without all the finality of that. To him, leaving wasn’t some important life decision. When you’d left places as much as Max had, it didn’t feel like such a big deal. Except for the first time, of course. He’d left on that fateful day, his brother already at work, his mother giving a small wave from her armchair as he slipped out the door with his duffel bag- going to a friend’s, he’d said. He never saw his mom again. That had torn at his insides for years, the first fuck-up of thousands in the decades that followed. 

He wondered if that’s why he was staying now. The guilt of leaving when he was young, which he almost didn’t dare to imagine a second time around. He was still a kid back then, but a kid who should have known better than to break his mom’s heart when everyone in that house was still reeling from the fallout of their father’s actions. Only the other night had Al talked about how sick she’d gotten, reminding Max of how he’d found out all too late. No forwarding address or telephone line could be freeing, but the loss of that tether had shattered him entirely when he turned up on the doorstep months after her passing. A belated eulogy to an empty armchair felt too pathetic, and he couldn’t bring himself to summon up a goodbye before slamming closed the door again. 

Max grimaced, hating the dark places that those thoughts could take him, and tried to focus on the present. Looking through the dusty front window, he saw his brother and Scout still on the sidewalk, pressed close together and seemingly talking besides the van door. He turned and flopped onto the couch, Samson jumping up before curling beside him. He could barely believe what he’d achieved since moving back to Denver: a real job that he liked well enough, furniture that was his own, food in the refrigerator. Hell, a whole fucking house! Even if right now it felt strange to have so much space, like some crazy reverse claustrophobia or something, he figured. Jesus. What was wrong with him, that he couldn’t simply be grateful for all of this?

Here, Max wouldn’t have to scrounge together dollar bills for another hit, wouldn’t wonder if he’d be able to afford a dingy hotel room for a couple of nights. He’d vowed never to get so desperate again to rent some company for the night. With his own place, he even had the ability to make a real connection with someone again, and not have it ripped to shreds by his own inadequacies and reckless habits. The few of those he’d had in his life….

That thought got Max rising, walking to the counter where the pile of photographs lay. He looked longingly at a couple in particular, almost drifting away to the warm memory of a few of those snapshots (backseat hickeys and campfire kisses came to mind), before he picked up the newest print in the pile. This was his present, his now. Here, with Al, with Scout, and Samson too. 

There was still something noticeably ‘off’ about their situation, but they’d been through shit same as him, and neither of them had done things as dangerous, stupid and illegal as Max had in the years since his shitty trauma had forced him to flee. They were good for him- and he hoped he could be good for them too, that they could come to him if they ever needed help or advice or just someone who would listen to their worries. 

But right now, things were good. Just fine. Peachy. So then why, as soon as they both left through the front door, had the smile on his face faded like an aged photograph?

[oscconfessions]

To the anon who made the anti-ship ask, I agree with you on some level.. but also don't?

Now, I’ll give you credit. I do personally enjoy most wlw stuff from the osc. So I might have some baises here. I do get where you're coming from when it comes to shipping.

But at the same time, I think the reason you don't see that many anti shippers in the tumblr/twt community is because most antishippers in the osc (Who doesn't actually even use that title) are 10 year old boys on some big osc youtubers community tag.

And a lot of oscyt who do fall under the line of anti shippers are just very immature individual who are stuck in the echochamber known as the community tab of youtube who would most likely be as immature if they were shippers) but that still doesn't help out in the image

Basically most anti shippers in the osc don't actively want to critique and rant on ships like you do, most osc anti shippers don't really know how to even analyze the writing (Ex. "team that loses = bad writing")

TLDR: Anti-ship discoursein the osc, (FROM WHAT I KNOW) is very very stupid and usually very very petty

I do agree with you the more shippy sides of the osc are very allergic to non-ship dynamics, but

*Epic cowboy hat going down*

Look, I've been in the same situation as you, so many characters I like get stripped down to some basic garbage personality, tha lacks the nuance they have in canon. And then it’s all I see of them, I only see people portray them that one way and I can’t escape it. I feel it’s also shoved down my face.

But now, and this is where you might lose me, and where my take might become ass.

IF you want anti-ship osc content you need to make it yourself, even with all the haters.

I wanted more content that noticed the characters actual personality, so I started posting analises, I wanted to find people who shared my takes so I started looking around for people(THIS was actually way easier due to me making content, since those people KNEW my takes)

I'm sorry to say it, but people who like shipping all the characters together won't suddenly stop posting that content or posting more platonic content of osc characters because you don't like ships. Whilst it sucks that you feel like you have a place in the osc, a lot of the people came here wanting to ship stuff, a lot of people enjoy doing that just as much as you enjoy antishipping

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY

If you want more platonic osc content, if you want MORE anti ship content you'll need to make it yourself, if you want to stop having ship content down your tags then block as many ships you know of. (Again I'll give you credit this ain't fool proof), Your confession is true I do agree with it. I know you might feel forced to ship things, but I’m telling you right now as a person who's been in a lot of /fandoms that are big on shipping, no one is forcing you. And I think you understand that. But forcing yourself to like shipping isn't good. But then again I can't really blame you (god this is way to long)

BUT AT THE SAME TIME, If you want to have a space for platonic osc dynamics THEN YOU CAN’T EXPECT PEOPLE WILL MAGICALLY KNOW YOU WANT THAT IF YOU DON’T TELL THEM. I’m sorry to say this (because I’ve done this before) But especially on the internet people don’t know what you want.

And looking at the response your ask got, THERE IS A AUDIENCE FOR IT. Even if it isn’t big, people do want to see that!

YOU KNOW WHAT! If you make a blog or whatever about divorces and platonic osc dynamics, I will be your number one supporter! KEEP ON DESTROYING RELATIONSHIPS, GO FOR IT! HAVE FUN!

- a certified yapper (PS TO any people who are really into shipping who would attack this person for having a blog about antishipping, your as bad as the oscyt 10 year olds)(I sorry if this is mean I'm going insane, have a lovely life etc))

.

[clairelsonao3]

5 Songs You Actually Listen to Tag Game (Holiday Version) plus a whumpy song bonus!

RULES: When you get this you have to put 5 songs you actually listen to, then tag 10 people!! (Not necessarily holiday songs, I'm just choosing to take it in that direction for this post!)

@thebejeweledwatercat (post here) tagged me in this one, and given the season and my general year-round obsession with music, I decided it made sense to do a holiday version to help narrow it down. And also so I can be totally nerdy and annoying by choosing 5 holiday songs off my dozens of obscure seasonal playlists! (If you HAVE heard of and/or listened to any of these songs, step right up and get your gingerbread cookie!)

I generally use Spotify to link to music, but many of these are so obscure they aren't on Spotify. Many of them originate from growing up with my dad, who in turn was obsessed with obscure Christmas music before I was, and who not only played his mixtapes on car trips to see our relatives in Duluth, Minnesota every year around the holidays, but actually had a seasonal side gig appearing on local radio stations as their seasonal Dr. Demento. And thus the cycle continues.

To all of you there

From all of us here

Capitol sends a bundle of cheer

Capitol is goin' to town!

This is exactly what it sounds like: a very hastily produced 1945 Christmas promo of "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town" with the lyrics changed courtesy of Johnny Mercer and a group of the label's artists and other random staffers from the Capitol Records office, many of whom get name-checked in the song.

Perhaps part of the reason my dad turned out how he did is because he grew up in the one and only Christmas City of the North (TM): Duluth, Minnesota. The song (another promo, I can't help it!) was originally recorded by Merv Griffin in 1962 for the KBJR Christmas City Parade. I don't know if it actually increased holiday tourism to the city at the time, but it certainly paid off 50 or so years later.

Up on the hilltops pick on an icicle

Chew it while you slide to fun below

Down in midtown people are nicicle

Come this Christmas to the Christmas City I'll go

As some may not know, there's a whole cavalcade of lovable Christmas characters who failed in their attempts to become the next Rudolph or Frosty, from Suzy Snowflake to Santa Mouse to Lil Elfy (the elf who, of all things, was just TOO small) to Lil Klinker ("the pup who woke Santa up").

But none beats Jingle-O the Brownie, the OG Elf on the Shelf, 50 years or so before that was a thing. You can't convince me any different.

Now Jingle-O, he makes a trip each day in his red rocket ship

Around the world to see if you've been being good or bad

He's got a great big magic eye that watches you from in the sky

And when he sees you acting mean poor Jingle-O is sad

I probably could do a whole separate post on whumpy Christmas songs alone. But for now, I'll let you choose: Do you want the one about Baby Jesus killing innocent children for refusing to play with him and then being beaten by Mary with a withy switch as punishment?

So he made a bridge of beams of the sun

And over the river ran he

And after him ran these rich young lords

And drowned they all three

Or do you want the one about the guy who drives drunk, crashes into a cop car, nearly kills himself, gets thrown in jail after apparently receiving no medical treatment whatsoever, then is further tortured by being forced to listen to people happily celebrating the holiday outside of his cell?

Got rocks in my head

Wish I was dead

Ain't gonna drink and drive no more

And BONUS!

OR do you want the one about two Irish ne'er-do-wells who encounter a couple of army recruiters on a Christmas morning walk by the seaside, and instead of entertaining their pro-military-industrial-complex bullshit, choose to beat them half to death with a shillelagh?

I know it says to tag 10 people, but I'm just gonna OPEN TAG it and let people chime in if they want.

Merry Christmas if you do Christmas, and Season's Greetings and Happy New Year to all!

[rakassauce]

welcome, and howdy!!!

yo, I'm raka. an artist who adores the scene subculture, anime/cartoons, and the old internet. been a while since i did an intro, and I don't particularly enjoy my current one. so, i thought i'd fix that!

but before i get into it, lemme begin with some ground rules:

DNI if you are/support ANY of the following:

a proshipper/comshipper

a terf/truscum/transmed/transphobic in any way

anti-palestine (however, that doesn't give you the right to be an anti-semite, that shit ain't cool)

Are a pro-lifer, this is a pro-choice zone babie

anti-neopronouns

ableist

a MAP/YAP, get that pedo shit outta here

a neo-nazi/on some type of white supremecist shit

a zoophile

...they gone now? yeah? cool, let's rock n' roll. (quick heads up for flashing blinkies/images, and eyestrain. that's gonna be a constant on this blog.)

name: raka/alex/izzy

age: 16, turning 17 on JULY 14TH!!!

DOB: 07/14/2007

pronouns: she/he/they

current hyperfixation: YU-GI-OH!!!!

favorite color: hot pink/red/neon green

favorite song: party like a millionaire - millionaires/i also like genres like rock, electronic, and pop

favorite games: sims (4 and 3), touhou project, legend of zelda

hobbies: scouring the internet, watching anime, drawing, spending time w/ my bf

favorite food: menudo!! my nanny (that's what I call my grandma ^^;) makes it for me occasionally and on my bday nearly every year

dislikes: assholes, unnecessary internet discourse, instagram comments, my horrible sleep schedule (help lol)

favorite movie(s): yugioh the movie: pyramid of light, bill and ted's excellent adventure, idle hands

likes: the night, old internet vibes, art, magical girls (SAILOR MOON), scene kid stuff

loves: my dad and my boyfriend!!!

rando facts: i'm half mexican :] i wanna learn more spanish to be in touch with my mom's side of the family. i've only ever finished one anime despite starting a few, and that would be Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. even though i'm on ep 27 of the 2003 version of FMA (it's on hold since it isn't my current fixation), i honestly prefer it. my favorite vocaloids are hatsune miku and kagamine rin and len)! now if we're talking utauloids: yokune ruko and kasane teto.

my tags:

#raka's sauce (my art)

#other people's awesome sauce (reblogged art)

#raka reblogs!

#raka's brain dump

#raka's cc finds!!

so, i'm raka. i've lurked around the internet for a little while now--since I was about five. restricted internet access? don't know her. i only started really participating in online communities when i was about 10, on quotev and amino (rip, it was a shitshow but i had a good time for the most part). at some point i just kinda...fell off of trying to find internet spaces? it didn't really feel fun anymore, y'know? i went back to lurking, looking at stuff i enjoyed/making things in silence.

well, fuck that. if i wanna have fun, i'm gonna make it fun. i love drawing, i always have!! i've been drawing since i was about five or six. it's always been an escape for me during REALLY rough times--it made me happy to draw my favorite characters, and even create my own! i love interacting with fandom spaces too, finding folks who are into the same stuff i am. connecting with strangers is fun, when you don't really know anybody irl who shares your exact interests!

i wanna make/reblog fandom art on here, and maybe make moots/friends. i also have OCs i love and adore that i'd like to share--with lore, of course.

i hope y'all have a wonderful day or night!!! take care of yourselves!!!

with all that said, blinkie/stamp dump time!!! a further insight of myself, if you will

sources for a few stamps:

Mel-Rosey on Deviantart

StarriiChan on Deviantart

kas7ia on Deviantart

blinkies.cafe for blinkies

YukiMiyasawa on Deviantart | another stamp from them

hissatsugirl on Deviantart

Papikari on Deviantart

Magica-28 on Deviantart

RaptureCyner on Deviantart

and feel free to hmu on other things such as:

discord - rakassauce

artfight

spacehey (i need to finish up my profile :/ sorry for mess)

instagram

[lowkeyclueless5137]

uhhh Barbie Video Game Hero with BOTH Shroud brothers aka Idia and Ortho as our main protagonists :D

I just woke up to see annons are back in the inbox???? Did u wake up my cat??? /j

Welcome back! :D

Or if you are new-new, welcome to this mess of a blog! Hope you have fun :3

Anyhow, fun fact, I tried to find it on wiki to refresh my memory of the movie. Instead I found that the movie itself is getting played on a TV channel in like 2 days. :v

But we ain't waiting 2 days for that >:v

I knew that it was on Netflix, but no, it isn't anymore, which is a bummer. :'3

But! Enough history and all that bazzaz! Let's get on with our story :D

So, let's imagine a semi-normal world. Like there's still a bit of magic around, not very popular, but you get the idea.

In here, Idia is in college, freelancing in a robotics job he doesn't really have a lot of worries for future, since he will inherit his parent's positions, so that would explain why he was getting so worked up upon some more program bug.

A thing to note in here is that Idia isn't as good at programming. Instead, his brother, Ortho(who's alive in here), is the brains that can program. Idia is the robotics genius and Ortho is the programing genius. Hence why Idia found it a bit awkward to go and ask his high-school little brother for advice. :'3

Still, Ortho did fix the bug in itself. Then, he presents Idia with a 2-player video-game as a sort of reward. He cleared the bug, so now he demands as a prize that Idia will play with him a few rounds. Idia accepted, totally not because he wanted an excuse for a break :'3

Cue the game acting wierd af. The 2 brothers think it's some sort of error, but that proves to be futile when the game sucks both of them in.

So there are 3 very important things to address:

1. They both look very pretty

2. They are stuck in the game so that's a problem

3. There's a cotton candy world map, can you eat those?

They also meet cloudy(I believe this wasn't the name, but we'll stick with it :'3) who is the game's tutorial and the lil guy who gives tips. And cloudy does explain to the 2 that he needed them to come here and fix the virus problem. Seeing Idia as the older one, Cloudy grants him access to the program behind the game.

Idia, naturally, is taken aback by this responsibility, but he can't really voice his own opinion that the virus finds them and they have to exit this minigame.

They meet Cater and Kalim, the minigame's bot characters. They are friendly guys who tag along so they won't be destroyed by the virus.

Then there's your candy crush level, followed by meeting Adeuce in another race level. They do argue a lot. :'3

They reach the next minigame, basically knock-off Minecraft. :'3

In here they meet sweet lil Sebek, who just wants to build a house and vibe. Unfortunately, the viruses do reach in here too and Sebek is forced to join our unlikely group in escaping.

All throughout that, Idia does crack under pressure and is unable to properly I put commands. Cloudy does ask about it and Idia says that Ortho is much more suited for the job than him. But he can't actually pass the programming rights to him. They were stuck with Idia.

For the last minigame, this time there's an actual plan. Ortho is the one calling the shots and Idia is using the commands accordingly. Cater, Kalim, Adeuce and Sebek are also down to help in any way they can. :v

They do manage to defeat the virus via a just dance competition! Yay! :D

And that also ends with Idia and Ortho getting thrown back in the real world. Naturally, the 2 hug since they are finally out, before Idia does ask Ortho where he got the game itself (it was a console game).

Ortho, bashfully admits that he found it for cheap in a thrift store. It sounded cheesy and the description gave him the impression that it could've been a fun little pass time. He tried googling it for reviews, but nothing popped out.

Still, the 2 keep the magic game, sometimes getting sucked in to properly play when they need a break. :3

It's short, I know, but the movie it was also pretty shortish as well. It's around a hour and 12 mins. :v

But I did try to squeeze out everything I could :'3

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @mk-writes-stuff, these questions look fun!

OC Question Game

My questions:

What would you wear to a fancy party?

If you could time travel and talk to your younger self, what would you say to them?

What’s the nicest thing someone’s ever done for you?

I'll answer for the Outcasts crew :)

.

1) What would you wear to a fancy party?

Izjik: "...clothes?"

Sepo: "If I had my pick, I'd wear a Shuari-style suit. The fashion compliments my features. Blue is overdone for seafolk and purple makes me look sunburned, so suppose I'd go with a forest green shade. That, paired with some silver hairpins that I could stab someone with in a pinch and a tasteful amount of pointed rings for punching, should do nicely."

Twenari: "I always love a good sundress. They're so elegant without being restricting. I'd go with copper jewelry as well - it sets off my eyes."

Djek: "I don't know - I'm not really the type to get an invite to a fancy party. If I could wear anything though, I'd go with a cape. They just seem so swanky! And you never see someone unimportant wearing a cape. Plus, just things of all the loot I could hide underneath!"

2) If you could time travel and talk to your younger self, what would you say to them?

Izjik: "It gets better, kid. It's not gonna be all sunshine and butterflies, but it ain't gonna be all doom and gloom either, even if it seems like that sometimes. You're gonna go on to meet some incredible people, and do some incredible things. Just keep your chin high and don’t ever give up."

Sepo: "Stop being such a dick. Surface people are sentient. Spend more time with your brother. And go brush up on your Halawema’ishi. It'll be relevant, trust me."

Twenari: "FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS, STOP FUCKING AROUND WITH ROTTING MAGIC!"

Djek: "Alright, the canal racket numbers in your year were 14-77-85, with a jackpot of half a million tuec. Get a ticket to Hazipili, buy in, and we'll be swimming in coin for the rest of our life. I'm counting on you, man!"

3) What’s the nicest thing someone’s ever done for you?

Izjik: "Other than Sepo saving my life half a dozen times and the humans matching that number between the two of them? I guess that time Djek kept talking to me when we were captured by the church. I wasn't myself. I wasn't acting rational. I'd let End turn me into a beast without it even being all the way in my head. But Djek never gave up on me. He talked and told me stories. He laughed at his own jokes when I wasn't able to. I don't think I've ever been so hopeless, but he never faltered, never let me slip. He's a good man, Djek is; better than he gives himself credit for."

Sepo: "It was within our first week together that Izjik and I had our first argument. I was completely in the wrong and acting like a racist jackass. She gave me what for, as I deserved, but the next day, she also gave me a gift. A little bone flute, carved from a scavenged kill. I think she understood that I was a Singer-Priest stripped of his song. I can't play the flute, of course. I don't have a tongue. But her kindness helped me understand that sirens are wrong about their ideas of a 'superior race.' What uncivilized brute would've done something so perfectly kind for a stranger they knew was hurting? She gave me that flute, yes, but she also gave me the truth of the world."

Twenari: "Izjik and Sepo could've left me to die in the Vay wilderness where they found me. They could've returned me to my mother for a profit. It would've been so easy - I was exhausted and without magic. But they didn't. They took a chance on kindness and risked their lives to keep me out of Undeta’s clutches. I don't think I can ever repay them for that. They gave me the gift of freedom itself."

Djek: "Ok, so you can't tell him I said this, but Sepo is the one who's done probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. We were in an abandoned dwarven temple, interrogating - or trying to interrogate - a cultist. Twenari and Sepo.... They're not really cut out for delicate chit-chat like that. So you know what Sepo did? He took a step back and said I should handle it. Said I was the best man for the job. Me! I know, right? I've never been the best man for any job in my damn life! He trusted me to do it, and to do it better than he could. Everything was riding on getting info outta this lady, and Sepo trusted me."

.

Well, these were fun! Very good questions 👍

I'll tag @elsie-writes @kaylinalexanderbooks @jakkon-and-rose-topic @scribble-dee-vee @steh-lar-uh-nuhs and anyone else who wants to play :)

Your questions are:

What's a childhood fear you had?

What's in your pockets?

Ever considered therapy?

[ihni]

13 books meme

Was tagged by @missroserose (thanks!) and BOY am I bad at reading books these days, so this kinda made me feel bad. (i'm not counting fanfics in this, even though I have several of those printed in book form)

1) The Last book I read:

"Sovande jättar", "Gudarna vaknar" and "Bara människa" (it's a triology) by Silvain Neuvel. (in English: "Sleeping Giants", Waking Gods" and "Only Human")

2) A book I recommend:

"The flat share" by Beth O'Leary for some light reading and feelgood feels. It's so cute!

3) A book that I couldn’t put down:

"The Martian" by Andy Weir. I literally got late back to work from my lunch break because I Had To Finish It.

4) A book I’ve read twice (or more):

I mean, lots of them. If I have a favorite, I will return to it like I would an old friend. To mention a few, "Grottbjörnens folk" by Jean M. Auel (English: "Clan of the cave bear") and the follow-up, "Hästarnas dal" (English: "Valley of the horses", I think) because I'm a sucker for someone just ... surviving and thriving. "Dimestore magic" and "Bitten" by Kelley Armstrong. Trilogin om Frihetskrigen (The Freedom War Triology?) by Niklas Krog. "Vingmästarens dotter" by Bertil Mårtensson. And of couse "Good Omens" by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.

5) A book on my TBR:

"Runaway Max" by Brenna Yovanoff. One of these days, I'll get to it ... at least the Billy scenes, lol

6) A book I’ve put down:

"Call Me by Your Name" by André Aciman. I didn't actually put it down because I was determined to finish it, but it was a struggle. I'm sure it is very good, but for someone who isn't into a) romance or b) sex, there just wasn't that much else for me to latch onto in that book. Not much ... plot.

7) A book on my wish list:

Gregory Crewdson, "Eveningside 2012-2022", but I've been hesitant to buy it so far because I can't rationalize spending that much on a book. But listen, he is a fantastic photographer and I've loved his work ever since I first saw a documentary about him on TV, ages ago.

8) A favorite book from childhood:

"Skattsökarna" by E. Nesbit (in English: "The Story of the Treasure Seekers"). Man I did NOT know what all those currency meant when I was a kid but it seemed FANTASTIC to have that many friends and adventures. <3

9) A book you would give to a friend:

"I'm with stupid" by Gene Weingarten and Gina Barreca. It was a fun and eye-opening book, lol (that is actually due for a re-read soon).

10) A book of Poetry or Lyrics you own:

"Complete poems" by Dorothy Parker. I have read the whole thing and I love her. I love Dorothy's poetry. So witty, so RHYMING.

11) A nonfiction book you own:

"Saxat ur Starlet" by Kristina Öhman. It has me ROLLING laughing. Starlet was a comic that I read a lot when I was a kid, and this book has taken random images from those comics and added commentary, and it is HIL-AR-IOUS.

12) What are you currently reading:

Nothing that ain't fanfics, baby.

13) What are you planning on reading next?

Book-wise? I don't know.

Bonus Round Shelfie?

Huh?

Tagging: @mikajupiterjonesingtimcurryfeet @callieb @dragonflylady77 @cherrydreamer @jaune-chat and whoever wants to do it :)

[captainclaudeandthehiddenlogs]

~ Music Game 🎶🎵 ~

[Rules: shuffle your “on repeat” playlist from spotify/the music service of your choice and post the first 10 tracks.]

@yikes-00 @redfurrycat Thanks JJ and Red for tagging me! 💘💘💘

There is gonna be lots of references to Hangster, sorry, forewarned is forearmed! 😅 I'm piling up songs that remind me of them, I just keep adding them to my playlists devoted to them. 🫠

1. Burning Love - Elvis Presley

I've been listening to some Elvis Presley's songs on repeat since I watched Elvis. While I still feel a little puzzled about some of Luhrmann’s choices, Austin Butler's performance really amazed me. And I've always loved this song! I think I discovered it thanks to Lilo & Stitch.

2. Celestial - Ed Sheeran

My brother is currently working away from home, I'm always looking forward to him spending some days at home, and this song reminds me of him and of the time we can spend together.

"You make me feel like my troubled heart is a million miles away [...]

Finding magic in all the smallest things" 💘

3. Teeth - 5 Seconds of Summer

This song screams Hangster.

"Can't look away, beg you to stay [...]

Don't know if you love me or you want me dead [...]

Call me in the morning to apologize, every little lie gives me butterflies

Something in the way you're looking through my eyes, don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive

Fight so dirty, but you love so sweet, talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth"

4. Time - Hans Zimmer

This is iconic. I adore Hans Zimmer.

5. Heaven - Eiffel 65 + Boomdabash

I love Eiffel 65, and it felt great when I listened to this on the radio for the first time, it was 90s again!

6. Life After You - Daughtry

I'm obsessed with this song. I listen to it and i can only think of Hangman and Rooster after their first breakup. 💔

"Last time we talked, the night that I walked, burns like an iron in the back of my mind

I must have been high to say you and I weren't meant to be and just wasting my time

Oh why did I ever doubt you? You know I would die here without you

All that I'm after is a life full of laughter as long as I'm laughing with you

And I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we've been through

'Cause I know there's no life after you"

7. Heaven - Bryan Adams

When i'm in the mood for reading/writing soft fanfictions 💕

8. Broken - Lifehouse

I listened to Lifehouse a lot when I was in high school, listening to them always feels like a throwback!

9. I Ain't Worried - One Republic

Top Gun: Maverick brainrot. TGM Soundtrack Cd has been on loop in my car since my brother gave it to me for Christmas.

10. Not your Barbie Girl - Ava Max

I can totally see Hangman listening to this while being angry at Rooster. 😂

Thanks again for the tag, this was fun! 💖

Tagging (no pressure and no rush), if you feel like doing it and you haven't done it yet: @midnighterapollo @beccaanne814 @sereshawl @cristinuke @itshoneywhatever

[darrelodin]

Fic Writing Meme

Tagged by @auncyen - tagging @chronicdelusionist. @onadacora (but don't feel obligated obviously!)

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 6

2. What’s your total ao3 word count? 263,444

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Persona 5 and Undertale in the past, though it’s been quite some time for the latter haha. I also had one fic back on FF.net that was for FFTA, and BOY did I overreach on that one

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Would That Make You Sad? (522) which was done because I had fallen in love with Onadacora's "Would That Make You Happy?" (which if you never read please do if you're an Undertale fan, it's the best fic ever, in my humble opinion), and I wanted to try doing a little spin on it based on some character's she'd introduced, combined with inspiration by Chronicdelusionist's comics based on the Underswap AU [If that reads like a bunch of gibberish, you avoided the Tumblr Madness of Undertale and I envy you].

The Phantom Thieves In: You Have Got to be Kitten Me (397) which is a fun little AU/what if where Joker and Morgana swap bodies post-Kaneshiro and deal with that fallout. It's... Almost done, I swear.

A Shining Moon (225), which is a 'What-if?' story about Mishima's thoughts at the tail-end of the Kamoshida arc, and if a sliiiight change had happened.

Regrets (171) was just me feeling like torturing Morgana with his heartbreaking, and writing some Joker & Haru comforting him.

The Magic Arrives at Macy's (36) was a silly idea of an employee at Macy's meeting Papyrus on the job. Absolutely ridiculous, but I love it in concept anyway.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always do, even if it takes me some time! If someone put the time in to respond, I always want to thank them and provide some sort of response, because it means a lot to me that they read what I wrote!

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

Hmmm, I really don't have one tbh. I don't like writing stories that end all angsty.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Due to being the only actually complete one, A Shining Moon XD

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Nah, though I did get one particularly heated comment on A Shining Moon at one point, though it's since been deleted by the original poster.

9. Do you write smut?

Have I? Yes. Will you find it? Only in WTMYS, I've never posted any other anywhere haha.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nah, though I like the idea of it. Auncyen and I have spitballed ideas in the past but neither of us have the time for that lol.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge.

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

Nah, though I often provide feedback to my fellow writers and suggestions.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Oooh that's tough. I like a lot for many different reasons. I can't think of just one!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

Hmm, I really don't have any atm. The WIPs I got that won't be finished (i.e. the Undertale ones) are safely dead in the water sadly.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I feel that my dialogue writing is really good. I can get into the character voices fairly well, and often keep a scene flowing just based on that alone.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Overthinking, exhaustion and IRL getting in the way.

Eh, more seriously, I could improve upon getting character thoughts and motivations across without dialogue. Describing scenes could go better as well.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If ya ain't proficient in it already, this way lies madness.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

According to FF.net, Persona 4 apparently.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Honestly, I think The Phantom Thieves In: You Have Got to be Kitten Me. It's about characters I feel for, I've put a lot of effort into it and I'm really proud of how my writing has improved throughout it.

[i-dream-of-twilight-sparkle]

The I Dream of Twilight Sparkle Index

Since Tumblr seems to have broken much of the sidebar functionality at least on redux sites. I thought I'd move all important links to it's own post.

I Dream of Twilight Sparkle FAQ #1 - FAQ for more general stuff from early on in the blog

I Dream of Twilight Sparkle FAQ #2 (Secrets of the Dragon's Tear edition) - FAQ related to a large story that impacts almost all recent posts since 2021

Mod Blog - Go here to ask the mod/me questions if you're ever curious or just want to get to know me (I also have a Discord account and/or server you can join if that's a preferable. Though I'll have that now as a simply ask me if you want to contact me there.

Ain't Never Had Friends Like Us - A group blog focused on specifically genie ponies. Although as of recent kind of low on new exclusive posts. I also reblog most Genie Twilight posts here

Geniequestria - A brand new genie pony story that's on the more more mature side starring a genie version of the evil Starlight Glimmer from Season 5. It'll never go as far as to show or describe explicit acts, but there may be plenty of implications of not so family-friendly stuff sprinkled throughout.

Episode Responses - Back when Friendship is Magic I did weekly episode reponses to most episodes between Season 3 and Season 9. Not all episodes were responded to especially Season 9-wise. But here's an index of each season's tag

Season 3 - Season 4 - Season 5

Season 6 - Season 7 - Season 8 - Season 9

Specials - These are particular important, special, or otherwise noteworthy parts of IDOTS history that I want to give special spotlight to. They range from important plot point stories, to simply fun moments between some characters.

Origin Story - How it all began! How Twilight became a genie, and chose to stay one in the first place

Twixie Genies Crossover (And Reunion) - Some crossovers between the unfortunately defunct Twixie Genies blog and my Genie Twilight!

Mane 6 Genie Simulation - Twilight putting the rest of the Mane 6 through the Genie Simulation for the first time. A temporary genie transformation that allowed them to feel what it's like to be a genie, without any of the responsibility of power.

Genie Sickness Arc - A month long arc that had Twilight become sick and eventually has to ask Discord to help

Motherly Revelation/Anniversary - The moment where Twilight and Spike adopted eachother as Mother and Son in the blog's continuty. Prepare for d'awww's.

I Dream of TwiDash - The moment where Twilight and Rainbow Dash realized they loved eachother very much and will have plenty of children an- Phbbbbt, not actually. This was an April Fools special I did for fun. Although, you could say I did actually go through with something like this for real over on Ain't Never Had Friends Like Us...

Mother's Day Special - A special starring Twilight's mother, Twilight Velvet. Some details I admit I'd retcon if I had done the story more recently. But at the time there was barely anything known about Twilight's mom. So alot of it was just personal headcanon of Twi's mom's personality and such.

Trixie Reunion - Trixie returns to Ponyville to inform Twilight of her intention to move here. Twilight and Trixie are on better terms between eachother then Twilight and Trixie were in Season 6 of the show. Hence why she had no problem with Trixie in the No Second Prances episode response.

Return to Saddle Arabia - The first major text story of the blog! Twilight and Spike return to Saddle Arabia for the first time since Twilight was genified. They find lots of new friends... but also a very dangerous enemy.

Genie Ember-lation - A simple Genie simulation sequence done between my Genie Twi and a friend of mine's OC

Secrets of the Dragon's Tear - An even larger text story that seeks to answer many unanswered questions leftover from the end of Friendship is Magic in the I Dream of Twilight Sparkle universe. And take things to a bold new direction that have impacted this blog ever since. Just a heads up, this is a LOOOOOOOOOONNNNG story.

Pinkie Pear Pie - Are Applejack and Pinkie Pie actually related in the I Dream of Twilight Sparkle universe? Read this, and you'll find out!

Starlight's Sisterly Simulation - Twilight performs the genie simulation on Starlight Glimmer again, this time without a reluctant Trixie.

IDOTS Stories - More one-shot stories (Though it also contains the chapters of Earnest Empathetic Change) that either take place or are related to events to Secrets of the Dragon's Tear

Earnest Empathetic Change - 10 Years after Twilight took sole rule in Canterlot, Starlight is tasked with reforming none other than Queen Chrysalis. Can she thaw the ice cold queen's heart?

[shame-is-a-wasted-emotion]

My top 10 in AO3(ummm...)

Thank you so much for tagging, @kirakiwiwrites. I hope this goes fun

I ain't a top tier writer. And I just have 9 fics( so no 10. I'm gonna rank those 9.) this is so subjective because a few of my fics were hit by kuddos bot. And I've got many guest kuddos too. Let's see.

Reader's favourite

1.One Step Closer(wip)- 69,405 words

2.Happening the mishaps and happening -10,563

3.Living Haphazard- 72,171

4.The Paris of My Childhood- 15,658

5.Juliet's Boudair-1,555

6.A cradle is an art- 2051

7.Work from Home-4644

8.Regret is an art- 2387

9. Seashore sight is an art- 3426 words.

Let's come to my favourites.Honestly , they are like my children🥺. But let's see

1. A Cradle is an art

A sweet fluffy husbands! And daddies! Klaine one shot. I loved writing Kurt holding their baby daughter, Charity. Just the feel of skin to skin contact. Uggh...

2.The Paris Of My Childhood

This one single handedly saved me from depression in the 45 days study holiday for University exams. And my first betaed work by the amazing @1908jmd. Honestly, she owns half of the story. Wizards! Klaine. More of hurt/comfort. I loved when Blaine finally lets Kurt into his magic suitcase by trusting him.

3. Regret is an Art

Another hurt/comfort one. But I love that they have husbands talk. Kurt draws future Blaine holding a baby!

4.Seashore sight is an art

Teenage! Klaine. First meet fic. Blaine saves Kurt from sea and he gives him a pencil art of Kurt.

5.Juliet's Boudair

I hated when they made fun of Kurt's Romeo audition. Like someone! You don't insult somebody like this even if they don't fit the role. So I wrote a one shot with Blaine trying to prove he could be a Romeo. @caramelcoffeeaddict helped me with the actual Juliet's Boudair scene from the "Romeo and Juliet". I used the excerpt.

6.Work from home

This is embarrassing. I made Blaine dress like Hedwig "from the hedwig musical" and made him sexy dance to "Work from home" by Fifth harmony. Turned on husbands traumatized Brittana's dog and next is a drama with some good news in the end.

7. Living Haphazard

My first completed long fic. I don't want to rate this low but I like others better. British boy Kurt rents an apartment in the states for a fashion competition and gets a rival roommate with that. Both of them don't know that the broker was a cheat and ends up living together and looove❤️

8. Happening the mishap and happening.

Weird title. I know. Not exactly Klaine oneshots. Kurtana and Blam friendships.

Kurtana : canon divergent of the puc episode.

Blam: go to disneyland and it's a daddy ditch day!

9. One step closer

I honestly loved this story. But I need to mend and fix the grammar. I don't know how this story is going. But many like this. I don't know why. High school Klaine story.

There you go!

All done.

But I am grateful to the readers who gave my stories a chance and read them. I appreciate them so much. Virtual bow down and hugs.

I am tagging @quizasvivamos, @bitbybitwrites, @1908jmd ,@little-escapist, @hkvoyage .

Ignore if you have already been tagged!