#idk what this is but have it !! a culmination of this month’s writing with what was written like. three months ago XD

[dreamsclock]

if you're accepting any sort of prompt um pirate au c!dnf perhaps? or just general pirate shenanigans of your choice? - 🦊

Absolutely !!! Not exactly your prompt but consider this as an AU: c!George and c!Dream on boat after prison breakout. They’re exploring the SMP….and not talking about prison/XD…..and definitely not falling in love. Enjoy :D

“It’s nice out here,” Dream says, ocean spray spitting in his face, “quiet, too.”

George hasn’t stopped looking at him since they’d boarded two weeks ago. They’ve said remarkably little to each other since Dream woke up: remarkably little, considering they’re the only two on the ship. Other than orders to keep them afloat and the occasional awkward conversation, they’ve been quiet.

Honestly, this is a good thing. And a bad thing. It’s both. George misses Dream, his Dream, who still appears in his dreams tauntingly and is so different from this version of Dream he’d found injured outside the prison. But the idea of speaking is a strange one: what, he wonders, is he even supposed to say? What do you say to someone you’ve technically kidnapped?

“It is,” he agrees, a tad awkwardly, leaning over the ship to join Dream, “nice if you like… I don’t know. Unending ocean.”

“Who’s fault is that?” Dream asks wryly, but there’s no heat in his voice for the first time in a long time. George swallows back the usual sharp defensiveness, and tries not to gaze at Dream, whose body is relaxed and loose. “I mean— You did pick the ocean. I don’t know what you were expecting.”

George bristles. “Next time I find you collapsed and covered in blood,” he says, “I’ll walk on by. Don’t worry.”

As if by magic, Dream’s face closes off. “You won’t find me like that,” he tells him, voice quiet, “not again.”

God, when had they both grown so old and predictable? Slouching over the edge of the ship, George stares down into the churning ocean, tries not to think about Dream's presence, warm, electric, beside him. Let’s talk about what happened back when I found you, by the way, he doesn’t say, because he’s not dumb: Dream won’t talk to him about prison, just like he won’t talk about waking up holding onto various items from his dreams. Nothing to say. At the end of the day, they’re predictable, but in the way long-separated lovers are. Dream gives, George takes, and they do not talk about the past.

It’s Dream that moves away first. Movements strung-out, jerky, the man pulls back from the boat’s edge, a sigh pushing from his lips. George watches his shadow as it retreats, and resists the urge to follow.

“Where are you taking us, George?” He asks, quiet.

George is silent, for a moment.

“Away,” is all he can say, and it’s the truth; “from everyone.”

Somewhere he can pretend the past isn’t the past and the present isn’t the present. Somewhere he and Dream can build a future together without this horrible hanging weight between them.

Dream has nothing to say to his weak response. Instead, quiet footsteps fall on the deck, and when George works up the courage to look around, Dream is gone, and George is sick, all of a sudden, at being alone.

Somehow, he feels like he’s failed a test, and it needles at him all day.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Home. - Fluffy Ending (not canon) || cbf!Simon "Ghost" Riley

Rating: M Words: 2.8K Pairing: cbf!Simonxafab!reader / teen!Simonxteen!Reader Summary: Teen Simon and his best friend often spend their nights away from their respective houses because they found a home in each other… CW: none. Tags: you/your pronouns, reconnecting with family, wedding guests, second chance romance, time skip. a/n: not proofread. I didn't like the way I wrote this ending but I figured I should share it either way. It's too fluffy/forced for my taste. The actual alt ending will be better. ALSO: Was listening to Chemical by Post Malone on repeat while writing this. Idk if you wanna do that too while reading...

[MASTERLIST]

You're twenty-eight, he's twenty-nine.

You swore to yourself you wouldn’t step a foot back in Manc, not even if cows flew!

You swore to yourself you wouldn’t keep in contact with anyone, not even if someone died!

(Which your father did. Thank fuck.)

You broke those promises so many times.

You were unable to keep away, though you tried…

It’s your own fault, really.

You stalk your old friends and family on Facebook sometimes.

Other times you check the local news.

Others you check the obituary and marriage sections on the news.

You beat yourself over it every time. Even though seeing the lack of changes through your cyberstalking and the news made you feel immense relief, you still ended up closing the pages on your browser with more aggression than you should and sulking in your bed.

And yet, you still go and do it again a few weeks later.

And then another few weeks later.

It’s pathetic, really, but maybe it provides you some comfort. Maybe helps you sleep at night.

You should’ve figured out that someone would have made you eventually. 

I mean, naming your blank Facebook profile after the one mean neighbor you had, who called the police on you and your mates once for being too loud while hanging out in the street, and died years ago? Yeah, they’d make you eventually.

Luckily for you, it was Olly who did.

All things considered, it could’ve gone much worse.

Maybe… Maybe you should follow his advice.

It’s been a decade.

Your mum deserves at least a letter to let her know you’re still alive, that you’re healthy, happy, and safe. She’s owed that much…

-

It was very strange to be inside your childhood home after almost eleven years.

Four days ago, your mum had openly sobbed as she threw her arms around you, and you had found yourself sobbed with her, both of you falling to your knees at the front door.

She held your face so gingerly and kissed your forehead so many times, her face severely more aged than the last time you had seen her.

The letter you had sent her 8 months before was 23 pages long, a bulk so large you sent them unfolded and stapled together inside a manila envelope rather than folded neatly into a standard one, and had detailed everything you figured she should learn about your life. 

Where you went.

What you did.

Who you did it with.

How you felt.

What you learned.

How you changed.

You apologized for running away, for worrying her.

You assured her you loved her and missed her.

You asked, tentatively, if she could find a way to let you be a bit more present.

You reiterated you wanted to remain living where you were in Scotland… but that you could allow yourself to be her daughter again if she so wanted it.

You know she cried reading it. Hell, you cried writing it…

You didn’t expect anything, you didn’t want to cause her any more grief by coming barrelling back into her life. She’s your mother, you didn’t want to manipulate her. You weren’t surprised when she didn’t answer for a few weeks…

But then her letter came. A simple half-a-page response that said, in no uncertain terms, that she missed you, that you were always welcome in her home and her heart, and she wanted to have her little girl back.

It all culminated in today.

Adjusting your red gown with one hand, you walk up the aisle, the other holding your 10-month-old daughter who’s clad in a pale yellow tulle dress. She’s kept flush to your chest, her chubby legs wrapped around your hip.

You and your mum find a spot near the middle and sit down, though you scoot yourself as far on the pew as you can, making sure that you can step off to the side just in case Evelyn starts fussing. Though you doubt she will. 

The ceremony is being held in the middle of the afternoon and she has been calm and sleepy this whole time, softly dozing off in your arms, her little face nuzzling to your neck, since it’s close to her nap time.

You sit Evie down on your lap and place a hand on the back of her head while you and your mum speak softly, still waiting for the wedding ceremony to start.

You still can’t believe that you’re here…

Wythenshawe still looks as crappy as ever, you still know the streets like the back of your hand, though a lot of it has changed, shops went out and into business, and people moved away.

You met up with your old mates at your local just a couple of nights ago, and after a lot of tears and some drinking, you gossiped all night about your lives and everyone else’s.

In a way, it feels like you never left…

You were so afraid that they would hold a grudge at you for leaving, for not staying in touch… But they never did. You were welcomed with open arms…

It’s… nice.

The ceremony doesn’t take long to start. 

You nearly cry at the sight of Emily in her wedding dress, having deemed her a close friend for the better time of your formative years. And Olly, as emotionally detached as he tries to pretend himself to be, cries at the sight of his bride.

The ceremony is long and a bit tedious, as most weddings tend to be, but you’re still happy to be there… Happy to be back.

It’s nearly 45 minutes into the ceremony when Evie starts fussing a bit. You’re quick to take the nappy bag onto your shoulder and rush out of the church while shooting some apologetic looks to the guests around.

Once outside, you find shade under a tree and begin to bounce Evie a bit, knowing she isn’t fussing because of her diaper or hunger, but rather from the fact she’s teething.

One hand balances the infant, the other sets down the nappy bag on a low wall and you begin rummaging for the teething ring toy amidst the pockets. When you find it, you give it to her, which she gladly takes, though it doesn’t do much for her pain, only quieting her down a bit by allowing her to bite all over it.

“Shhh… it’s alright, pet…” You whisper to her as you kiss her smooth forehead and nuzzle your nose against the crown of her head.

You keep softly swaying and bouncing with her in your hip, moving about, side to side, while she drools all over the toy, her hands, and your dress as she softly headbutts your chest while chewing.

You’re lucky your dress is a dark enough shade of red and made from a fabric as forgiving as chiffon, so that the wetness will dry quickly and discreetly.

It’s in the midst of your pacing and bouncing the infant on your hip that you spot him.

His pale jawline peppered with a well-trimmed stubble, his blonde hair cut short and hidden under the beige beret, his strong build wrapped in full military dress…

You almost didn’t recognize him…

You leave your bag right where it is and beeline for him before you can stop yourself. 

And he makes no motion to move from his resting spot, leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette, and looking right at you like you’re sure he has been doing for the past 15 minutes or so (you wouldn’t put it past him).

“Fuckin’ hell…” You hear yourself saying as you come to stand in front of Simon.

He tosses his cigarette down on the floor and puts it out with his brown boot, blowing the smoke away from your daughter on your hip.

“That how you greet people now?” He retorts while looking down at you through his fluttering eyelashes. 

His voice is so much deeper, rough and strong than it used to be… You don’t know how to respond at first, your mouth has gone dry and your brain has blue-screened.

You’ve had dreams about this before… Nightmares too.

You’ve imagined that one day you’d cross paths with him on the street and you’d stumble all over yourself. That he’d ask you how you’ve been or what you’ve done with your life and you’d have nothing to show for it…

You thought you’ve healed from your past, but here comes Simon Riley to indirectly tell you “HA! Think again, dumbass!”.

“You surprised me is all.” You end up saying, your voice carrying a maturity and a strength you didn’t know it could. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

“Didn’t think I would either. Got lucky this coincided with my leave.” He remarks. “Could say the same to you, though.” He adds.

You can’t tell if he meant to offend with that comment. Olly had told you through Facebook that he told Simon about you vanishing off the face of the Earth and that Simon didn’t take it well. You knew he, rightfully so, expected you to stay gone.

“Got back in touch with Olly and the rest of my family.” You remark simply and shrug.

He keeps looking at you with those brown eyes of his, with a certain coldness behind you that forcefully reminds you that this is not the same person you used to know. The boy he was and the man he is are forcefully different people.

“Cute kid.” He adds after a beat of silence as his eyes flit to your daughter who’s still very much in her own world with her teething toy.

“Thanks.” You reply.

This feels awkward. You’re finally standing face to face (more like face-to-chest, goddamn is the man tall) after a whole ten years. Are you even friends? No. But are you acquaintances? Also no. And you have too much of a history to be strangers. 

So what are you?

“What’s her name?” He asks as he looks back at you.

“Evie.” You answer. “Evelyn.” You correct yourself before adding. “Evie for short.”

“Hm.” He remarks unemotionally. His eyes flit over you up and down, taking in… everything about you.

You are a confident person, you’d say. You feel good in your own skin. You like your reflection when you see yourself in the mirror. And you feel like a million bucks in this dress, which wraps around your body beautifully, the fabric making you look delicate and soft.

But under his scrutinizing gaze, you feel anything but confident.

So, you take a breath and return the same scrutinizing gaze, up and down, taking in every inch of him, your eyes just as strong and confident as his own. He notices, because of course he does, and he puffs out his chest and raises his chin, to allow you to keep looking at him, showing himself off a bit proudly.

He’s wearing a khaki formal uniform, or full dress as you remember it being called, and although it's been ten years, you still remember some things about all the stuff you investigated about the British Army, so you could keep up with him, impress him with your knowledge.

A brown waist belt with a sash across the right soldier means he’s an Officer… The buttons are gold and shaped like winged parachutes, and he wears a beret instead of a cap. A beige beret to be exact, which means he’s no longer in the Parachute Regiments, who wear maroon ones. There’s a cap badge on the beret and the Excalibur on it tells you one thing: he’s special forces. You don’t remember which one… but you know he’s something big, bad, and important.

“Special Forces.” You muse out loud, showing off what you noticed.

His eyebrows raise, impressed by you, and then he nods. “Somethin’ like that.” He adds.

“Done well for yourself, then.” You add and he nods again and blinks while smirking, as if trying to humbly pat himself on the back for it.

“She have a dad?” Simon asks while shooting Evelyn a look. The words escape his mouth quicker than he wanted and sound a lot more judgemental than he meant for them to.

The way your eyebrows raised at him, the same way they used to when he’d say something bloody stupid as a teen, told him you weren’t pleased and that he had put his foot in his mouth.

“Sorry.” He says though it’s clear he doesn’t mean it. “Came out wrong.” He tells you.

You might have gone ten years apart but you knew Simon like the back of your hand at one point… And you knew sometimes he’d say things aloud when he meant to keep them as thoughts. It’s clearly that’s a habit he still has.

“I know what you meant.” You reply bluntly as you fix your grip on the infant, swiveling her a bit to sit on your other side.

“What’s the answer then? She got a dad?” He probes as he dips his head a bit to the side, his arms hanging by his side as he looks you up and down.

“Aye.” You end up replying, the Scottish word slipping past your lips then you meant for it to. You still speak English with a Manc accent, just like him, but there are little quirks like this one that you’ve adopted after living in Dundee for ten years.

Simon’s eyebrows cock up as well at the sound of Scottish word, and you can tell he finds it odd, but he doesn’t comment. “Where’s he, then?” He retorts. “No ring on your finger.” He adds.

Your eyes drift down to your left hand which is wrapped around your daughter now, the splayed fingers showing a distinct lack of a wedding ring. He sounds just as judgemental. But you don’t let it ruffle your feathers.

“Separated.” You reply maturely. “No ring on yours.” You say and nod toward his own left hand which also lacks a ring.

“Married to the job.” He replies and you can’t help but let out a snort of a chuckle, which makes him chuckle dryly too.

“‘f course you are.” You add in reply.

“Could’ve been married to you.” He retorts with the same casualty of someone saying ‘Nice weather today’.

You scoff and shake your head. “Really?” You add.

“Ye.” He adds. “Had a ring and everythin’.” He quips. “Then Olly told me you ran off into the night.”

You scoff again, mostly out of disbelief, and look away from him, your eyes flittering over the courtyard in front of the church.

The ceremony should be finishing soon enough.

“Dodged a bullet then.” You remark dryly, smiling a bit in amusement.

“You or me?” He retorts and you find your eyes drifting upwards to him again.

For a moment you just both stare at each other in silence… 

Your eyes are locked in the same way they used to whenever the two of you were about to throw themselves at one another as teens… 

Then, he breaks into a grin, and so do you, the both of you looking away for a moment. His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. You’re both amused at the cheekiness of your comment.

“How long are you stayin'?” He asks you once you both glance at each other again.

“Goin’ home on the 26th.” You tell him. “How long’ve you got leave for?” 

“‘Till the 27th.” He replies and dips his head to the side a bit.

This is definitely crazy.

You secretly wonder if you’ve gone mad.

A decade has gone by… But there’s no mistaking the electricity in the air.

That light buzzing of goosebumps that prickle at your skin, making the hair in the back of your neck stand… Like lightning is about to strike…

“Take me out to dinner.” You demand abruptly and narrow your eyes at him.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek again in amusement. “Are you askin’ me on a date?” He retorts.

“No. I’m tellin’ you.” You add, watching how his brown eyes swiftly light ablaze with a certain fire you never expected to see after so many years apart.

“Tomorrow?” He suggests.

“Tomorrow.” You add.

“I’ll pick you up at 9.” He adds.

You know damn well that 9 P.M. is too damn late for dinner… But you also know that in reality, your ‘dinner’ will be grabbing Nando’s and cheap beer, and eating in the backseat of his car in that one side road you always used to go to… talking into the night… and probably definitely fucking each other’s brains out.

“Like the good ol’ days.” You remark.

“Mhm.” He adds.

Then, the church doors open and the guests come pouring out, forcing the two of you to separate.

But you can still see the smirk on his lips from afar as you walk off to grab your nappy bag, find your mum, and get ready for the rice toss.

[MASTERLIST]

taglist: @iite-cool , @spicyspicyliving

[doubleddenden]

The new trailer was interesting. It did the thing I didn't really want it to do by spoiling story related stuff and not reveal the actual new Pokémon we're missing, but for what it's worth it seems like the story will be pretty content heavy. Let's look at some screens I took and speculate on some stuff: and a friendly reminder that nothing I say here has any bearing on leaks that are possibly out there, so if I guess anything in the future, it was just a guess:

This crystal tree is pretty suspicious. Like first of all, this appears even DEEPER into Area Zero than we've been before, assuming. Did something or someone plant it here? Is it the remains of an underground world? Could it possibly be related to a legendary? Not to mention the FULL crystallization of the tree, vs the partial crystallization of the trees up top. It's definitely not safe to be here for long.

Next, Z move pose! BBA is off the coast of Unova, but there's a lot of Alola rep here. I wonder if they're doing this because Bank will shut down soon and this will be where they want us to get Alola forms for the next 5 ish years before they discontinue Switch online services?

Next, this is Crispin and what appears to be proof the BBE4 won't be restricted to singular types. My friend pointed out that this could possibly be a sun team with Exeggcutor there. Wonder why they opted for Kanto when Alolan is there? (I mean besides Kanto being why).

Next, the reveal of, WHOA WHODA THUNK, Champion? Corrupted Kieran anyway. I made a post a few months back when they showed off this guy from the neck down and made the prediction he'd be champion- that's not entirely confirmed just yet, but it does seem to be pointing in that direction. It's not really that much of a W because GF can be very predictable with their writing.

Anyway he looks heavily corrupted- YEAH LETS GO VILLAIN ARC!!!! His hair is fully purple now- honestly I'd have preferred it with black like before, but it's probably symbolic of his corruption. My friend even pointed out his hair kinda looks like the Toxic Chains the Loyal Three have- theory time, whatever gave them the chain is also corrupting Kieran because look at him. No light left in those eyes. Just rage. Fun :D

Next we have this- I assume it's Penny or Mela tbh, because I saw from a ways back where it seems like Team Star's Giacomo has reintegrated into Naranja/Uva Academy. Maybe Penny has stopped dying her hair and grew it out or Mela is being super proper now or something. Could also be a completely unrelated character.

Lastly for major story stuff, this is cool poster material. Kieran's rage or possibly fear of Terapagos, Carmine's worry for her brother, Briar... I mean come on, she's a villain in waiting, look at her face. Idk if I'm too quick to claim Terapagos is evil though, because the anime has firmly planted him in Just A Little Guy territory and I don't think they'd want to ruin that image considering they've been in charge of hyping him up since Horizons first started.

But yeah, the culmination of everything we've been through in one image. Kinda exciting.

Oh, and just some small tin foil hat pics

It's odd that they paired these trios together to me. Pokémon loves sprinkling breadcrumbs to tease at future projects, and these could pass for potential Legends starter trios.

But not for Unova.

Tepig and Snivy are the odd ones out here because it'd be kinda dumb to re use Unova starters for a Legends Unova game- now for Johto? Squirtle, Treeko, and Tepig COULD work, but Squirtle is also pretty close to home.

If I'm being real, this is probably nothing and just meant to highlight the starters across different generations coming home, with Tepig and Snivy being stand outs because this will be their first time being available on the Switch. Ever.

Other notable things I didn't screenshot:

BQs: basically side quests.

Synchronization? I guess? We can actually control a Pokémon. Conspiracy brain wants to say this is alluding to something, but I'm unsure. It's at least kind of neat because this has been a topic of various NPCs in the series for years. Those were probably just alluding to Mystery Dungeon games, but when Game Freak does something like this in DLC, it could hint at a future mechanic or possibly a feature in a future game.

Legendaries returning: I'm gonna be real, I'm not really all that excited by the prospect of yet another Legendary Bargain Sale that they've been doing since ORAS at this point. ORAS, USUM, Crown Tundra, and now Indigo Disk. At this point the legendaries are more common and accessible than some common pokemon like Furfrou or the elemental monkeys.

What's interesting to note are a couple of things:

1. DLC pokemon from SwSh are here too, including Kubfu. That's interesting, I wonder how it will evolve considering we needed the two towers in IoA last time? An NPC from the dojo?

2. Boi if you thought I wasn't gonna talk about the Unovan dragons- they didn't HAVE to single them out like that! They didn't have to. They did, though. I'm pretty sure we all know their next projects.

You may be saying "but it's too fast!" And I agree. They need to stop rushing things and take their time, but we all know they won't. All we can do is hope they actually try this time.

Anyways that was the last trailer for Indigo Disk. Maybe it's my severe depression talking, but I'm actually excited for Indigo Disk. It looks very content heavy and a bit prettier to look at than before. I hope it runs okay- I mean it won't, but I still hope it. I also hope this isn't as quick as Teal Mask was.

1 week lefts, bois

[abidethetempest]

"Transl. from Eliksni" Flavor Text translated into Eliksni Conlang

Here are those flavor text lines I've been mentioning in every SotConlang post since the dawn of time! Finally! These were more of a "chip at it when there's downtime" project, since they're fairly short and simpler compared to than Null Composure. I'm very proud of them, as this is the culmination of several months of background work and my first completed translation project! *throws confetti*

side note: on Ishtar Collective, some items say "transl. from Eliksni" and others say "trans. from Eliksni". i definitely didn't only just find that out when I was close to being done w the original lines i found..... anyway idk what the reason for the difference is (probably diff ppl wrote the flavor texts) but now you all know if you want to go look these up yourselves. I made them all say "transl." for consistency here.

Translations are all below the cut, plus maybe some notes if I have the room/energy to write them!

New here and confused? This post is part of my ongoing project to create a language for the Eliksni! For more information check out my masterpost linked here.

"The Barons fight together." —Elykris, transl. from Eliksni

Aaviks Bahrenesni or’thrys.

"They gave us nothing… so we'll take everything." —Elykris, transl. from Eliksni

Teskem ak nam ryk elan… liium roksun el drrha.

"The Great Machine isn't killing us. We're killing ourselves over the Great Machine." —Brivi, transl. from Eliksni

Nam’mrathiik Aalosiisrohkani iven. Mrathiikya el nviks Aalosiisrohkani.

"Let them have the Great Machine. They deserve it." —Mithrax, transl. from Eliksni

Niidreh dreskibr kaas Aalosiisrohkani skeyris. Ksohls ak eyka.

"The Kells are dead or mad. The era of Houses is over. So I came to the Shore." —Arrha, transl. from Eliksni

Keles vaath’iir priit neyv. Dei’grehs iikrimni eyd Bohs. Liium estyrem neh ryk Nateskiini. 

"I was of kings. Then of exiles. Now I'm here. The Shore is bad… but everywhere else is worse." —Brivi, transl. from Eliksni

Liirem neh eyd Bo-Usriis. Grev Bo-Nama. Rak ilo. Nateskiini pehka... drand eil drrhapriistis ar’pehka vei Nateskiini.

"I was at the Final Attempt. I saw a Guardian wield a gun that left molten gold in her wake. I ran and never looked back." —Avrok, transl. from Eliksni

Liirem neh yan Grehsriivaenni. Biir’em neh, greyraabt vathyarov heythiks usar’em, yan orey’em’iir neyok bev eydka greyr sriivikem. Thekrem neh taap namiik tamr biirem neh.

"We are a long way from home." —Arrha, transl. from Eliksni

El ksaan shak ketch.

"Here we can start over." —Mithrax, transl. from Eliksni

Ilo vaad niivrey seykrim el.

"How do you think we got here?" —Avrok, trans. from Eliksni

Greyrsa iruuksis klii, giire el ilo estyrem.

That was a whole lot of stuff so I think I'll leave the notes out (theyre not anything super special anyway lol). Might reblog to add some rambles later if anyone is interested!

[louisloulouie]

This is so complicated, so I’m just going to write my feelings out and idk how this is gonna go. This will be a very selfish post to just talk about my feelings.

If you see me post about liam pre-2016 just know I’m grieving the man I thought he was and who’s music helped me so much in life because it is impossible to separate 1D from myself.

Personally I am not grieving Liam as the person he was exposed to be. I know now that he’s dead we shouldn’t attack him but I have been 100% against him in the past month. I supported him 100% since 2012, then he started getting into some weird things, then he dated Maya, and then everything about the type of person he was came out and those all culminated to me being completely against him. I am not mourning him right now if I’m completely honest.

But, that man was a part of a band that has been integral to me for almost half my life. 1D was my world. I was a liam girl before I was a louie, I have not and probably will never love something as much as I did 1D. He and 1D were so important to me. So I am grieving the person he was, I’m grieving my childhood, I’m grieving the band that saved my life when I was at my lowest I’ve ever been.

I feel so so so so fucking bad for his family, for his parents most of all oh my fucking god I can’t believe they have to bury a child. I feel bad for his sisters, I feel bad for his son. I’ve been out of the loop when it comes to Liam’s personal life so idk how involved he was with Bear, but now that kid is gonna grow up without his father and that’s so painful.

I personally don’t think Liam could have been redeemed after everything that came to light. Maybe this isn’t something I should be saying when he’s just died. But I don’t think an abuser could have bettered himself much. Maybe I’m ignorant or closed minded but I’m open to hearing the opposite perspective on something like this. I think it’s tragic that he died before his victims could get justice. I grieve for his victims and the things Maya had to go through at just 19 years old and what she will have to go through now as the person who exposed him the most, I know the Liam fans are going to attack her ruthlessly.

So I’m not mourning him as the person we know he was now. But I am mourning who we thought he was in the 1D years. I’m mourning the friendships he had with the other boys and the happiness they brought each other and the millions of fans who sought comfort from them. I’m grieving for the girl who was 14 years old that found 1D at just the right time so that I could keep living with a new source of happiness keeping my alive. But I am not grieving the Liam we have all found out about the past couple years.

[just-emerald-star]

Emerald's Watches: Disventure Camp: All-Stars (S3) [PT.2: Ep's 12-21]

Ok, I'm caught up on the show now (spin-offs aside) and man oh man do I have thoughts on this season's second half. I had 24 hours to process my thoughts on this season after watching it.

And honestly, I really enjoyed this season. But it wasn't until Episode 11/12 when things began to...feel off. Specifically the writing choices. As the season reached it's finale, every writing the writers made felt like they were trying really hard to subvert expectations/outcomes. And as a result, it ended up being a bumbling mess. It all culminates in a finale that..in my opinion, absolutely SUCKED. It was climatic and felt like it an ending for all of these characters after 3 seasons of competing...but it failed in finishing off strong with a good winner & resolution.

I've spent all last month watching this show and this is the first time where I can't even give credit to the finale for wrapping things up cuz it couldn't be bothered to AT LEAST finish off on the highest note. And that sucks, cuz this season came the closest to being near perfect. Those early episodes were so fucking good, but unfortunately it fell apart once the merge kicked off. Combine that with some very unlikable characters reaching the end and NOT ending things on a positive note...it just felt...off. It felt incomplete.

I REALLY hope S4 turns this shit around as the writers embark on a new journey with a new cast & 26 episodes.

I'll keep tuning in for the show cuz now I'm invested. IDK if I'll post about my thoughts on the spin-offs yet. We'll see.

No clue what show I'll watch next but I'll keep you posted. Thx a bunch for reading these if ya did. This was fun^^

And last but not least, my final tier list ft. the S3 cast.

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

Hi! I’m curious on what you’re writing right now. What are some stories you’re working on?

I...can't remember why I didn't answer this when it was first asked. Sorry. 😅

I'm most actively working on what I'm calling my "Albert Thesis" lmao. Just basically a big old compilation of all the complexes and angsts and traits I attach to him in my head. It's going to be very dark and very niche and very kinky and very off-putting to basically everybody, I think. In a weird way I think it's kind of the culmination of my own...idk, psychosexual and mental/spiritual journey over the past decade or so. And I suspect it might be the last big project I do for Yuumori, at least until the second part of the manga starts. (Though I'm still planning to finish Disrepute, of course.) Engagement has really dropped off lately and my hyperfixation is definitely sort of slowly going into hibernation. Might as well go out with a bang via the projection fic to end all projection fics. 😅

I'm getting ready to dip my toes into Heaven Official's Blessing fic as soon as I read the 8th English volume, so sometime next month!

Otherwise, I don't have much on the go. I was hoping to tinker with some original fic this month as a vague tribute to NaNo, but work has been BONKERS so that's fallen by the wayside. I have a vague idea for a steampunk lesbian adventure novel but it is very much an idea at this point.

[sio-lokistiel]

Hi!! So I'm a fairly strong chuck won believer (i have been given some Extremely convincing evidence and I think its interesting to think about so) but I saw a post you made about how that theory disregards cas and jacks arcs and I was just wondering if you could expand on that? I'm super open to interpretations lol and I'm really curious to hear the other side (i haven't seen too much anti chuck won stuff so I dont know the arguments)

Okay, oh boy. I guess part of it is what exactly you mean by “Chuck Won” because I understand it on a censorship level. Yes, Chuck was representing the network. Yes, the network meddled and cut Dean’s reciprocation and we ended up with that garbage finale with pages of [OMITTED] in the script. So, if that’s all you mean by “Chuck Won” then yeah, whatever I guess.

Idk, some people probably feel it’s a legitimate theory simply because Dean died. It seems a lot of the fandom thinks death = bad…and that’s just not the case now that Jack freed the souls. I mean, I can throw quotes from The Mummy and Lord of the Rings at you about how death is the next step in journey. So while I’m no longer upset about Dean dying in general, especially because it was foreshadowed, the way he died was so fucking dumb. That doesn’t mean I think it has anything to do with Chuck.

Cas’ arc was all about self-actualization. His speech in Gimme Shelter explains a good part of it with how he found purpose having a family and becoming a dad, BUT him also realizing that having himself is important, too. Then, oh goodness, we reach the culmination in Despair (The Truth) when he realizes happiness is in the saying, in accepting your truth, both the good and bad bits of yourself. The Empty comes and he reintegrates with his Shadow to become whole and saves Dean, the world, and himself in the process. Yes, that’s a whole bunch of Jungian psychology stuff and it’s a lot to process and I’m probably not doing the best job of explaining it. Most of the Chuck Won theory stuff I’ve seen ignores all that and seems to ignore the canon that Cas IS in heaven. I understand the disappointment of Cas and Dean not reuniting, YET. Corporate fuckery (and Covid) kept it from happening in the finale with the original Roadhouse ending that was planned and then scheduling conflicts and Jensen and Misha agreeing Cas needed more than a cameo kept him from being in The Winchesters.

And Jack. Jack was literally the whole goddamn point. The two big things are he’s possessed and sometimes dead because of this, or he is corrupted somehow. I have never seen a convincing damn argument for either of these things. There’s one post that tries to compare some his mannerisms to Chuck, but is filled with so much straw grasping and reaching I’m surprised the author didn’t need a doctor afterward. Another is that some people project on the poor boy so much and just they don’t like his arc, they want to think something is wrong. There is a lot more Pagan stuff about Jack and the number of mythologies where some god is brought down by being a power hungry dickhead and that comes back to bite them in the ass as a grandchild in Jack’s case removes them from power. There are better people to explain all the Pagan imagery surrounding Jack; my tag #jack is the orphic egg should get you to some really good stuff. I’m also not down to argue about how the last 3-5 seasons are meant to read with a Pagan lens. There was one group who predicted the end of the mothership months in advance and then all of The Winchesters and it wasn’t the people clinging to some white Christian reading.

Last thing, I just personally find the theory really lazy as well. I would legitimately be so disappointed in Jensen and whoever ends up writing the next chapter whether that’s Robbie or someone else if they went that route. Luckily, they are all smarter than that and I can see them seeming to lean into it, but then having the most fabulous rug pull! This is very long, oops.

[superfluouskeys]

i wave my wand & command u to speak on hopeless, a fic that has lived in my bookmarks for time immemorial.

ohhhhh thank youuu!!!  hopeless was my first wolgraha fic!  It was based on 10 kiss prompts that I decided to make loosely related and kind of flesh out a story for my WoL.  I was just going along cheerfully enjoying FFXIV until Shadowbringers but idk man several things about that part of the story just have my number on speed dial you know!  I was like okay I’m gonna have to write for this to get the rocks out of my brain, ergo I’m gonna have to actually develop an OC.

I pretty much made Adrienne specifically to ship her w/ G’raha so I find it extremely funny a. how quickly I became attached to her for her own sake and b. how I feel her chemistry w/ other characters developed since she was initially conceptualized to complement G’raha specifically LOL.  I previously had a hard time “bonding” with my own OCs and I feel this really marked a turning point in that regard where I was able to focus in on character ideas that really appealed to me enough to form that connection, if that makes sense.

There’s also like a huge gap in my AO3 works from March 2020 until January 2021 when I started writing for FFXIV.  I remember I kept wanting to say something about what I was going through at the time and how I was feeling about my writing and about writing generally, but anything I tried to say barely made any sense because I think I didn’t even know what was going on with me.  There was a period of time where I felt like maybe I just wouldn’t write anymore because I didn’t have it in me.  Nothing inspired me, and nothing I had been working on pre-pandemic even remotely appealed to me anymore.  I felt like it had been written by someone else.

In retrospect, it makes perfect sense, right?  But it was hard to understand the feeling from the middle of it.  And I didn’t want to be cold or disrespectful to the people who have loved my work over the years, but I also couldn’t find a good way of venting my frustration about how I was feeling, so I think I often ended up coming off that way despite my best intentions.

So my main goal in doing the kiss prompts was to not angst about them too much, to just get them done without much editing, and to write something fairly different from what I usually wrote in the past.  I felt like it would be a good challenge for me because as I mentioned I really love unresolved tension and agonizing slow burn, but I think maybe I love it too much LOL, so sometimes when it finally came time for the culmination of the tension I would freeze up because I had built it up so much that I was afraid the payoff wouldn’t be good enough!  Ten shortish prompts where they literally had to kiss felt like a perfect low-stress challenge to help shake my brain loose on this very specific issue, and for that reason I think it’s very sweet and pleasant to read where a lot of my other work is more fraught and angsty LOL.

I really don’t even know if this dialogue feels particularly in character, I was straight up just calling myself out for a laugh:

A dull terror is beginning to take root in her heart, the one that has borne the loss of countless others, the one that has already lost him twice over, and she searches her mind frantically for something to say, something that will keep her from spoiling the moment with things she can’t do anything about. “Is that your idea of a proper courtship?” she wonders, instead, trying at a teasing tone. G’raha looks up.  “Is it not to your liking?” he counters.  “If you’d prefer, I could go and sit across the room.” “You’ll do no such thing!”  Adrienne tightens her grip on him instinctively. G’raha’s grin widens, and his tone turns dramatic.  “Perhaps in a few months, our hands will brush, and I’ll write you a sad letter about it.” “I hate you so much.”  Adrienne laughs weakly, but she cannot bring herself to loosen her grip on him, lest he slip away from her yet again in her negligence. “I don’t think that’s true,” says G’raha pleasantly.

It’s funny, now that my life is like pretty normal and okay again, I’m back to mostly liking fraught and angsty things, but at the time I feel my personal life was so bad that I really needed sweet and pleasant in my escapism!

Fanfic Writer Director's Cut Ask Game!

[thepavementsings-archive]

hello miss pavementsings do you happen to have any recent piarles fic recs? i always enjoy the ones you post so i trust your taste 100% ❣️

wow what a high praise thank you! Idk how recent is recent, but here are a couple from the last month-ish or so that I've enjoyed!

Game, Set, Match (August, 62.4k, M) - Tennis AU. I think I reblogged this when I read it but this was such a refresh for me in the Piarles game! The action writing here is so strong for the tennis portions it actually inspired me to watch the tennis version of DTS on Netflix to watch some of it play out visually because it was so enticing to read. And the characterizations of both of them but Charles in particular, were so interesting and tapped into a side of his personality that i think should be explored more. Bonus Sewis written so well in the background too! If you want a completed Piarles longfic you can read in one long sitting, this should be your first stop. And a second follow up in this series was just released the other week so perfect timing and i get to say both count as recent! my rules!

an indentation in the shape of you (September, 16k, T) - A 5+1 Footballer/Musician AU. I just read this and loved it. It's such a gorgeous story about loving the people who have been there through your life, and what it means to nurture that love through distance. It's rooted in some of the fundamental hardships of early career days -that balancing act of how people you care about intertwine with the journey who you are and who you want to be. Piarles often feels inevitable in some ways, but this explores one of my favourite things about their relationship: the intentionality of sustained closeness.

call it what you want to (September, 138K, E) - Longfic CEO AU. This one I actually read as a WIP, which i dont do very often, but I am so happy to have done that because there was so much here! I think what was done so well in this work is that the beats of the tropes on the tin (enemies to lovers, slowburn, the corporate au of it all, etc) are hit quite cleanly, but because they're done across such a length of story, they feel quite natural when you look back at it holistically. Its like eating the perfect thanksgiving plate, all the key flavours are exactly what you wanted when you bite into it, and when you're done the meal you think wow, that all just works together somehow? The second half of the fic hits SUCH a stride with the themes of grief in particular. It's a story I've already re read, and something you can pick back up sections of to really delve into whichever trope or storyline you found most compelling when you're done.

I wanna touch your body, so fucking electric (August, 4.7K, E) - PWP. I wasn't sure what type of recs you were looking for, so I thought I would try and find you a PWP to cover all bases. I admittedly have not been reading a lot of those these days, so apologies for cheating and going back to August. This one honestly is a combo of incredibly hot, and really interesting character choices that fit piarles soooo well. It's the perfect culmination of the tension between two roommates who are obviously down bad for each other and have been dealing with that issue in different ways.

[midnightstargazer]

🍓☁️ Please!

Thanks, @kay-elle-cee!

Writers Truth or Dare

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

I first discovered fanfic in middle school, around the time the seventh HP book had just come out. I hadn't really been aware of online fandom before that, except really peripheral stuff like "what character are you?" type quizzes. That was also around the time I was first allowed to use the internet without constant supervision, and it all kind of culminated in me wanting to know what happened after DH and finding the answer in fanfic. And, eventually, deciding to try my hand at writing it myself.

I was in a lot of fandoms during my teenage years, but I didn't really realize it was something I could continue to do as an adult. Like, I was aware of fandom adults existing, but I also assumed they were the exceptions and that I would need to give it up. So I did, in my early 20s. But, a few years ago, I decided to re-read my Harry Potter books, with the idea of seeing whether I wanted to keep them or get rid of them. Did they still hold real nostalgia value? While there are certainly things about them I see differently as an adult, not only did I still enjoy the characters and world, I ended up with ideas that led me to reading fics, and to writing my own again, after years of saying I was done with all that.

So both times around, it was HP.

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

I'm pretty sure I've answered this before, but I can't find the post. Anyway, when I made my AO3 account, I did it specifically because I had ideas about the Black family I wanted to do something with. So the star part is a reference to their astronomy naming traditions. Midnight has to do with the fact that I'm a pretty severe night owl, and midnight is one of my favorite times of day. (It might also have been a little bit inspired by the Taylor Swift album? idk, I don't remember consciously thinking about that, but I am a swiftie and I did pick the name a few months after the album came out, so it was probably there on a subconscious level).

[omgkalyppso]

💘💗 for Almanzor and Peregrine? 🥺

Thank you for the ask! 🥺

💘 What do they love most about their partner(s)? What do their partner(s) love most about them?

I think after Miklan's death a lot of the people in Peregrine's life lost their idealism, hope and the rebellion in their hearts. They became less occupied with social order and more desperate for their next meal. The war didn't help, and when Peregrine lost her spouse, she too fell into jaded pragmatism. The soldiers in her retinue were nearly bandits, held together by coin, pride, opposition to the dukedom, and defense of their homes.

It takes time for her to love Almanzor, even into their relationship. He thinks he's bitter and has his regrets, many stemming from outbursts of frustration. But she finds that what he calls bitter, she would call defensive, that his regrets are far from worst in her mercenary band, and that his outbursts come from an honesty that is both refreshing and worrisome. He has a good heart and a respect for family, and she falls in love with both.

Almanzor respects her ability to lead and her strength (and her relationship to her daughters), but it isn't until he's on the receiving end of her vulnerability that he starts to fall in love. He loves her tenacity; enduring each hard day with the drive for a better tomorrow. He wouldn't wish harder days upon her, but he loves when she invites his aid when challenges reach a head. He loves the values she holds onto, and that she dictates of her mercenary band. He loves the situational patience she has, for him in their relationship, and between actions taken to assert herself among mercenaries and to assert her mercenaries politically.

She doesn't see beauty in all things, but she appreciates (the beauty of) things she holds in esteem obstinately; and I think that's what he loves about her most. But like, narratively? In the big picture? Obviously he wouldn't love that about her if he was diametrically opposed to those things? Idk. They get along, and they roll their eyes at and about one another, but their rough edges fit together far more than they fall apart.

💗 Describe your OC’s partner(s) from their point of view! What do they really think about them?

I'm going to do something Completely Different, because I know you won't mind. Turning a WIP into a simple post. Maybe someday it will be a fic or part of a fic.

2782 unedited words below the cut. Peregrine's dialogue is at times intentionally grammatically wrong. Other grammatical errors are probably unintentional. Lol.

An iron nail clattered on the silver circle below the candle on the wall, signalling the hour. Almanzor had something of a routine for his moonlit hours on slow nights like this, and though the sound was meant to call an end to his writing, he’d not managed more than five words this evening. His mind was elsewhere; in the future, in the past, in the house he currently occupied.

He had been living under Peregrine’s roof for nearly nine months now, and publicly for at least four. It was home, more than anywhere else had ever been, certainly more than the inn and the barracks that had preceded it.

Here his boots still stood in a line, but not with soldiers’ or strangers’, but with little ones. Some nights he would hear Peregrine’s daughters, Apolline and Huguette, whispering either in their room or their mother’s, while he brought his footwear to the rear of the house, up past their bedtime in a way that was safe and dry and warm and quiet … These details only occurred to him because of what he knew of their past, where their family had been on the run.

Apolline was too young to remember, but Huguette sometimes still had moments of distress because of three hard years that had culminated in her father’s death.

She’d brought up how her relationship to Almanzor would have been inevitably different if her father were still alive, once. Conflicted and young, slightly accusatory, and resigned to how that would never be. It had hardly been a conversation, there was little he could say, and less that she wanted to hear. Mostly he had held her as she wept through unearthed grief, and had worried that he’d injured their relationship beyond repair through some inadequacy, but Apolline had been friendlier with him from then on, and even Peregrine had expressed stilted thanks sometime after.

.

With a careful hand, Almanzor unlatched and popped open the rear door, walking out past the runoff from the roof to the untouched snow at the edge of the property. A bucket, freshly tossed atop the blanket of white waited for his careful retrieval, and he quickly stuffed it into the edge of the shovelled bank to fill it.

Rushing back, a breeze cut through him as if the elements themselves were chiding him for failing to bundle himself appropriately in his eagerness. Yet he restrained the impulse to keep his boots as he entered, and curled his toes in each step of the carpet to speed along the restoration of feeling to the soles of his feet.

Above the fire in the main room of the house an iron pan with a tapered point could be tilted to and from blocking the chimney overhead. With a nearby rag, Almanzor tipped the pan on its hinges until it locked in place, and started preparing water for Peregrine’s nightly tea.

She’d been in the habit of making it until he’d started insisting on performing the task. The first time had been a novelty, as he’d been instructed on where she kept cheesecloths, and how to use a large, flat spoon to scoop snow out onto the cloth in the pan. When the snow had melted, the cloth could be removed for cleaning in the event there had been any debris, and then the water was left to boil both to remove impurities and for the sake of the tea. It was the second time Almanzor had made the tea that he’d noticed how Peregrine had blushed with delight, and this had been when he’d decided it should be part of his routine.

While she could prepare the tea on her own, Almanzor hoped that Peregrine enjoyed having someone make her tea as much as he enjoyed having someone for whom to make tea.

And not just anyone, but each other.

While the water set to boiling, Almanzor puttered around. He returned his boots to the row by the front door, and latched the back one. He washed his hands with a basin that was set out on the counter for this purpose, the water stale and oily from a day’s use, the simple soap laced with fruit rinds and sand.

When the water was ready, Almanzor tipped the pan so the water poured down into a teapot and set it aside to steep.

With still more time until the tea was ready, Almanzor collected two small bread rolls from a cloche on the counter. One he ate immediately, without guilt or compunction, but the other he sliced in half and placed upon the pan over the fire, turning it over until it was firm and golden.

The room smelled of bitter tea and warm bread as Almanzor plucked the roll from the pan with a knife, and he brought both this and the teapot to where he could spread the roll with butter and pour the tea into a deep, clay mug.

The bedroom door was ajar, and Almanzor pressed on it lightly, allowing its squeak to signal his presence, though he imagined his footfalls were less than subtle.

Peregrine was at her own desk, surrounded with letters and clippings of decrees and flyers. She worked hard to stay informed and relevant. She smiled, stiff with stress, over her shoulder as Almanzor placed the tea by the bed and brought the bread to her side.

When Peregrine glanced at Almanzor again he had a hand over his heart and she sighed affectionately. “Sit down. I will free in short order.”

Almanzor hovered regardless, resting a hand on the back of her chair as he leaned in to press a kiss to the top of her head, smiling to himself when she hummed with more appreciation than she’d been able to manage at his entry.

“More trouble with the ports?” he asked casually, reaching for three bulletins on her desk.

“Just a bit,” Peregrine answered simply, frowning at her letter. “They want archers on the bridges,” she held up two fingers to indicate where, on the map in front of her, “to watch the boats that pass beneath.” She rapped her knuckles on the map. “But this has been going on for too long — and with extremely particular casualties.” She rested the flat of her palm upon her paperwork wearily. “If the problem is collusion, I don’t want my people to end up as scapegoats.”

“They’re not paying enough,” Almanzor observed, uncritically.

“Not enough for ransom and compensation, no,” Peregrine agreed, and Almanzor knew the lingo enough to know that by ransom she meant bail or fines.

She turned over her hands, and as her left thumb and fingertip were clean of ink, she ate a bite of the bread Almanzor had brought.

“Are you alerting the margravate?” Almanzor asked, and now he let his worry be plain in his tone as he lifted his hand from the table and took a step back.

“I wouldn’t without consulting with the others … but it will be something to consider.” Peregrine grimaced and shrugged. It would be bad for their reputation among other clients and other mercenary bands if they did.

“The territory is already a mess of veterans and unclaimed traitors,” Peregrine said, as if reading Almanzor’s thoughts. “And missing the refugees that have returned south. It’s only going to complicate further the next few years.”

Almanzor squeezed Peregrine’s shoulder, adrift in the assurance that he could offer without contaminating his sincerity. To his relief, she turned her head to press her cheek to his hand in acknowledgement, and that was all that was needed in the moment. She returned to her missives, and Almanzor moved across the room to pour himself a cup of water from a pitcher that sat on a narrow table.

He swallowed twice, and then nodded to himself and his passing thoughts. He suspected she was working more slowly, as if to give him privacy as he took off his glasses and swept at his eyes, pulled out of his day clothes and into nightwear. Almanzor clasped his hand around the pouch at his neck, normally removed for bed but currently safely beneath his clothing.

When he looked back at Peregrine through the blur of his vision, he couldn’t make out more than the black of her hair, turning away from him to the pages in front of her, the beige of her shirt, making soft wisping noises with her movements, and her thick creamy legs, bare and bent around her seat. Replacing his glasses meant he could pick out the silver in her hair, the gold in her eyes, the wrinkle on her nose as she focused, the loose stitching of her clothing.

He drifted his hand across her shoulders as he moved to the bed, and Peregrine’s writing raced away again, first through her words and then over a tally on a calendar.

Almanzor couldn’t help but think of the day that calendar would need replacing. He hoped that it would be a simple act, unremarkable, but it could easily be because this one was stolen or needed to be burned or abandoned. He would play any part of the myriad possibilities that came to mind if Peregrine asked.

She ate the rest of the bread roll and moved to the table that housed the pitcher Almanzor  had used, and a basin. She washed the ink from her hands and collected the tea by the bedside, drinking much of it even before she sat.

“Thank you,” Peregrine whispered, pulling the covers over her crossed legs as she propped against their pile of pillows.

“You’re welcome.”

Almanzor had one leg propped across his opposite knee and leaned in to accommodate Peregrine’s position.

She looked tired, if happy, and everything had gone as well as it could have to be a passably ordinary night.

This is what he had convinced himself he’d wanted to broach this conversation. If he had worked to make the night special then that would have tipped his hand, or— It was hard to articulate, but Almanzor could anticipate that this would have placed pressure on Peregrine, and that she would have assumed he was romanticizing what their lives could be, and not recognized the laborous monotony that made up much of her lifestyle.

“Any strides in your stories you’d like to sound out?” asked Peregrine, turning to accept Almanzor’s arm around her middle as she reached back for her tea.

“No, I… I was distracted,” Almanzor confessed.

She hummed, half inquisition, half understanding, and tilted her head as Almanzor rested his chin upon her shoulder. His free hand, not around her, held aside the pouch on his neck, and he took a breath.

“I have a big question. And I feel it should, to some degree, involve the girls. But it's something we should discuss first.”

As Peregrine turned to look at him, Almanzor let his arm slip away so he could remove the cord from around his neck without disturbing his glasses. From inside he produced a silver ring, with three modest little emeralds; a common man’s engagement ring.

“Al?!” Peregrine hissed.

“Peregrine.” He’d meant to say it to soothe, but he couldn’t hide his amusement, his own surprise. He’d expected her to be embarrassed and shocked, but not … jubilant. Her cheeks were pinched and rounded with failure to suppress her smile, and Almanzor was tempted to abandon the rest of what he’d intended to say to kiss her instead. With restraint, he kissed the side of her forehead and then closed his eyes and spoke plainly, in a way that might hurt another but that Peregrine had always appreciated.

“I don't know whether you'd only want to associate marriage with your late spouse…” Upon opening his eyes, he found no objection forthcoming, and continued, nervously. “This is a request, and an offer, but it isn't an ultimatum; and even if you say you’re not interested in marriage, you can still have my vow. You’ve come to be — more than important to me. Two years ago I didn’t know you and I — I am not that person anymore. I never could be, again. I would always be in your house. I would always be there to mend your armor. To be yours, as you need me. Will you marry me?”

“How long have you been thinking of this?” asked Peregrine, and Almanzor scoffed in delight, that this would be her response and immediate reaction. He made to speak but the fingertips of her right hand found his lips, silencing him. “And don't say any romantic drivel, like, 'Since the moment I met you,' or whatever. I want a serious answer.”

Almanzor tilted his head towards her hand as it curved around his cheek and behind his jaw.

“I know, Poppy. It has been on my mind since about Verdant Rain Moon. Huguette walked us all over town, and I was tired, and worried, and a little irritated, if you recall—”

“I do,” Peregrine said, in admission and to tease. Almanzor averted his gaze momentarily to capitulate. His unfair irritation had been with Peregrine and others in Huguette’s life who might have more appropriately diagnosed the pain the young girl had been under as coming with puberty, and saved them a few hours of distress.

“But I didn't want her to know that,” he clarified, “because I love her and Apolline.” This was easier to say, and easier still for Peregrine to hear. Their exchanges of typical statements of love were still shy and sparring, though the sentiment was often felt, and so Almanzor felt reasonable with his proposal.

“And then you asked me to stay,” Almanzor asserted, and whether or not Peregrine remembered that this had been the first night that he’d stayed openly, with her girls at home and nothing planned, he remembered, “and none of that mattered. Because it had been a labor of love and I knew you were tired too. And you wanted to recharge with me. I imagined days and months and years of doing things for you and the girls, of supporting one another. It would be all I want now. Nothing would make me happier. And I want you to know that. I would do anything for you. That's all this is.”

Peregrine had taken her hand back at some point during his blathering. It rested over her mouth now, still curved in a smile. She swept back her hair and asked him, coy, “You said you think the girls should have some say in this?”

Almanzor rolled his eyes and hid the ring securely in his fist to keep from dropping it, noting how Peregrine’s eyes followed its disappearance. “I don't want to put you at odds with them. I don't want them to feel betrayed by either of us.”

“They adore you,” Peregrine said, her tone implying that this could be chiding in some way, and not, as Almanzor felt, the very crux of his concern. She frowned for just a moment, a flash of something deeper that she might have trusted Almanzor with in a different moment, but she was distracted, and wrapped a hand around his fist. “They are very loving, and Apolline especially, but ... it's different. I can't see them objecting.” Peregrine pressed her thumb in the crook of Almanzor’s hand as he lowered it between them, as if holding his hand and caressing the promise within. “They could find a father on you.”

“To my great surprise,” Almanzor said, with more wonder than self-depreciation. He leaned in to press his forehead to Peregrine’s. “What about you, Poppy? What do you see in me? No wrong answers.”

Her eyes flit up and down, from where she played with his hands and over the proximity of his person. There was no eye contact like this, but Almanzor could feel it, a friendly assessment, an admiration, an indulgence. “A lover. A partner. A friend. A husband.”

“Your husband?” he asked, opening his hand entirely now. Her fingers drifted away, as if surprised, and then she clasped the ring between thumb and forefinger as she rested her hand down upon his.

“My husband,” she confirmed.

Peregrine pulled back as she put on the ring, and Almanzor followed her lead.

“Wild lions couldn't keep me from you,” Peregrine said, blushing deeply, meeting Almanzor’s kiss as he leaned back towards her.

“I love you too,” he said, pulling her half across him.

“With all my heart,” Peregrine said, reaching farther away to dim the lantern. Another kiss found the top of her head in the dark, and a quiet whimper of joy as she settled on his chest.

[repo-net]

In preparation of this year's Nagisa month

Likely to be my biggest project to date, and one I'm most definitely passionate about with how often I've talked about such a scenario playing out, ahahah.

For this year's Nagisa month - I'll be releasing a story based around a remastered version of Ultra Despair Girls' fifth chapter, with the plot revolving around Nagisa being present in the chapter!

While there's a lot of things I already enjoy about UDG and its climax, I've always felt that for one blue character in particular, it's a waste to have him absent from it because of the fact his character arc never gets a proper conclusion to it. Or rather - it did, if Nagisa actually ended up dying under his robot like he realistically should've, since it'd make a perfectly fine tragic ending (come on, doesn't 'kid getting crushed by a robot, symbolizing all the expectations that he couldn't handle crashing down on him' sound like a reasonable bad ending to you?), but then you find out that he's actually still alive for god knows what reason, it all starts to feel like his story is incomplete.

Nagisa is a character that undergoes a lot of shit tossed at him, from the start of his life with how godawful his backstory was, to the present where he's still going through a conga line of trauma and manipulation from friends and allies alike, he just can't catch a break; this story aims to show Nagisa the consequence of his actions, make him realize how much he's messed up, show the emotion and conflict that was caused by him and his friends, and give him a way to not redeem himself, because lord knows with how much he let his friends get away with - he's still far from the point of being redeemed and that's a story for another time.

Rather, it's for him to be able to come to terms with his heart and finally grant him the closure he deserves, to give him more interactions with characters and groups that we should've seen more of in the game. Nagisa; the one kid in the Warriors of Hope who truly prioritized their paradise, protecting the kids above all and just wanting to be appreciated for once finally getting to open up and accomplish that with people that are willing to give him a proper chance to see the consequences of what he's done, and to have the avenue for him to get over the hurdle that he threw his morals and emotions away for - Monaca herself.

I aim to show all the sides affected by the atrocities that he and the other Warriors did, because these kids aren't spotless and they deserve to feel bad about themselves for all the shit that they put Towa City through, but I think by having them acknowledge and recognize these faults, then accepting that even if they succeed here, they've still got a long road to go ahead of them before the damage they caused are healed, it'll help Nagisa's (and hopefully others too, idk how much confidence I have in writing them though) story culminate in him being able to rest easy knowing he's free from being a puppet for expectations, and now he can move ahead with his life to start righting his wrongs.

The general sequence of events will remain the same, really. Kotoko will still be present since I'd feel dirty erasing one of the bright spots of her own arc, and I think it's about time those two have a proper conversation with each other since we never really got enough of the other Warriors of Hope interacting with each other that didn't involve Monaca. The main change is that Komaru and Toko actually end up helping Nagisa out and saving him from his robot, having him treated, anger breaking out among the adults because their supposed savior rescued one of their biggest enemies, and Nagisa coming along for the journey all the way towards Towa Tower to finally come face-to-face with Monaca so he can help put a stop to the madness.

The prologue and the first chapter will be posted on October 4 (give or take a few days), on (hopefully it gets verified by then lmfao) my AO3 account, which I'll link here on Tumblr once it's up, with chapters coming out every handful of days leading up to the finale on October 23, which is the blue boy's birthday himself.

That's all, really. Thanks for sticking around, and hopefully y'all enjoy what I put out this year, it's been a long passion project of mine and I'm really wishing I can stick the landing on this one to give Nagisa the love his character deserves.

[ao3-oner]

Which Longer Work Should I Embark on Next?

Hi everyone!

So now that I’ve wrapped up M.S.I. and its prequels (I do still need to write my chess theme analytical mini-essay - haven’t forgotten, just getting around to it), I’m staring down the better part of four months until I start my Worlds fic. As previously stated, in the next few weeks, I plan to drop a few one-shots, mostly G and T-rated (since I’ve written plenty of smut for rn lmao), but after that, I’ve been considering starting up another longer project for this summer. I have a couple of ideas for what that might be, since there are a few AUs I’ve been rolling around in my mind for a while now. The thing is, I’m not entirely sure which one I want to start first – ideally, I’ll get around to writing all of these eventually, but realistically who knows how long I’ll be in this fandom – so I thought I’d ask you all if you have opinions.

Naturally, at the end of the day, I’ll just write whatever I want regardless of what the result of this poll is, but for reasons of curiosity...

Brief Synopsis of Each AU Below:

BotB AU -  the least developed of the three ideas, but that sort of makes it the most exciting

This story would be told in the form of a single multi-chapter fic – Idk exactly how long but prob at least 30,000 words, might also be partial chatfic – with varying perspectives, i.e. one chapter would be told by one character, the next would be told by someone different. Set in the 2010s Philadelphia house show scene among a group of indie bands: old T1 fans are fighting with new T1 fans about whether the band can even keep its name after subbing out everyone but lead singer Sanghyuk, but no one’s complaining about their new sound. ShowMaker and the KIAs keep getting banned from venues because of dozens of noise complaints from local Karens, and are now struggling to find new gigs. Most people are pretty upset about Generation G breaking apart after power couple Jaehyuk and Siwoo split up, but goddamn did it lead to the most iconic break-up tracks of 2012. And they’re all competing for one record label at the end of the summer that might finally get them out of this piece-of-shit city.

Fantasy AU - by far the most challenging/longest of the three, so I’d need to really commit if I don’t want to abandon this partway through

This story would be a quartet of fics, one for each of my primary ships (GK, OZ, CM and RL) with the main plot being told in the GuKe fic and the other three essentially being spin-offs, specifically prequels. This kingdom/deities/magic AU has a LOT of worldbuilding, but I’d be excited to see if I could pull something of this scale off. The central focus would be on the Archer Prince Minhyung, heir to Unkillable Demon King Sanghyuk, and his encounters with a mysterious monster of legend called Keria. In other tales, we have flashbacks to Prince Heo Su of the Kingdom of Damwon as he begins teaching himself dark magics (much to the dismay of his loyal knight and chief captain Kim Geonbu) in a tragedy culminating in the kingdom’s demise, plus King Jaehyuk receives a concubine from a rival kingdom who’s maybe just a little too knowledgeable about poisons. Also, armored knight Hyunjoon might be fucking the literal God of Thunder??? More news at sundown.

Omegaverse AU - Perhaps the most appealing one to start first because it’s more developed than BotB but less ambitious than Fantasy

Also it fits well with most of what I’ve previously written because the core of it is still set in a modern-day e-sports environment. Don’t be mistaken, though: not only is this an alternate universe, but it is full-on dystopia that thoroughly explores the sociopolitical implications of the omegaverse. Y’all do realize how dark and primal this trope is, right? I mean, is it hot? Obviously – that’s why I’m down to write it – but there’s so much more depth to it, too. This story would also be told in a quartet of fics, each one approximately 10,000 words in length (there is no “central narrative” for this one; just four different explorations) with the possibility of a fifth multi-chapter fic with shifting perspectives afterward and/or maybe a drabbles collection of miscellaneous short ideas I had for this AU that don’t cleanly fit into their own fics. The start of this series will likely just be a worldbuilding doc explaining my vision of everything, then diving right in with the first fic (GumaKeria).

[tellthatbrokebitch]

can i be real a second, for just a millisecond, let down my guard and tell the people how i feel a second

i'm gonna do a personal ramble under a cut bc i just need to

so i'm going to a pt facility tomorrow. for anyone reading this who doesn't know, a year ago i injured my foot and due to a series of mistakes, miscalculations, and just generally unfortunate events, i haven't been able to walk since, and haven't been able to see a doctor to examine the problem, so i don't even exactly know what the problem IS. only in the last five or so months have i been able to talk with a doctor via video call, and eventually it's all culminated in finally being able to seek help for my issue

it's been a really rough fucking year, and i've tried to stay positive but it's difficult. i've also been trying not to talk too much about it, or vent too often on here, bc that's not why people follow me and i don't like putting that negativity out there. it's why i mostly talk about my writing, or my silly text posts posts, and the only time i really speak about my mental health is when it's really bad

this is a good thing. it's a great thing, bc even if i go into this facility and for some reason or other i can't walk again, at least i'll know, you know? it's been an entire year of not knowing, and being cooped up in my room, and not even being able to see half of my family, even though we live in the same fucking house. either way, tomorrow i get to see and hug my mom for the first time in a year, so at least i have that to look forward to

but i'm also really scared that the original injury i sustained never actually healed, and that this entire year has been for naught, or that i fucked something up because i'm a fucking idiot, or any number of things that have gone wrong or might go wrong in the future. i'm scared that i'm never gonna walk again, and i'm going to be a burden on my family indefinitely, and that i screwed everything up. i'm worried about my financials, bc i spent two years building my credit up and diligently making my payments, only for the last year to completely fuck it all up bc i'm not making any money and fuck the us credit system anyway, bc i was perfectly content before but you have to have a decent credit score to do anything in this fucking country, so now i'm like 2k in debt with no way to pay it off bc i had to use them to buy fucking food so i don't fucking starve

i'm getting heated lol anyway i'm also just really stressed bc i haven't left my room in roughly a year except to go across the hall to the bathroom, and now tomorrow i get to humiliate myself in front of strangers, and i have to leave my family and my dog and my cat and go to a strange place and sleep in a strange bed and i'm bringing my notebooks so i can write and my phone so i can post but it's not the same and my anxiety is already through the roof and i just know i'm going to spend so much time fucking crying bc i'm doing it right now just typing all of this

idk i'm just... idk don't read all of this okay i'm a fucking mess. i just needed to vent

[masschase]

“#gooh is in my top 5 “i question writing this into my hc” things gonna be honest” i would honestly LOVE to know what things you hesitate to include in your canon? one thing i really love and respect about your work is your dedication to sticking to the actual canon so i’m super curious to hear what things you actually don’t consider part of it. or at least the ones you go back and forth on.

OK firstly, thank you, that means a lot to me 😊

There probably isn't anything that isn't a part of it at all unless I forgot about it which does happen pretty often! Things I go back and forth on is definitely the best description of it.  Like, almost all have led me to write some moments I really like and yeah I am proud of making the canon (at least the bits I didn't forget!) fit, but I feel like when I started writing I didn't even think about just *not* sticking to canon. This list is not ordered or exhaustive, it's just the stuff I could think of off the top of my head.

1. GOOH. This is actually a kind of minor one, bc the pros outweigh the cons massively but it's been on my mind today bc of the chapter I've been writing.

Pros: a very sweet Matt/Boss moment and Matt/Boss/Johnny friendship moment after they return from hell, throwing in Jezebel as a character, and obviously the new planet ending is sort of essential to my "they tried to save the earth but couldn't so now they need somewhere new" thing. Plenty of smaller jokes and again some other good parts that factor in.

Cons: so this is actually stuff that just canonises monotheistic religious views that my characters wouldn't normally hold that makes me feel... weird... idk. I feel like they have enough time between GOOH and my fanfic to process that but I was thinking about it today and it bothered me. GOOH also canonizes Matt and Asha sleeping together in some capacity... ok that's not so bad, it adds some depth to the storyline and stops them having unresolved sexual/romantic tension as implied in SRIV. But at times I worry I'm portraying one or both of them as pretty dickish.

2. All SRIV romance options

Pros: I mean, Casey probably would fuck all her friends if it was the only option. And I hc SRIV as taking place over 2-3 months. After that time-travel ONSs were an option. And her whole one time rule has its place in the plot.

Cons: Kind of forces everyone into bi/pan/other mspec apart from Ben and Keith. I would have highly considered making Pierce gay. Maybe Asha would've got thrown token straight lol. Plus who says everyone (again, except Ben, who... seemed like he would say yes to whatever she was about to ask... and Keith) would fuck her? Seems a tad Mary-Sueish. 🤔 Also doesn't gel well with her and Johnny having a primarily brother/sister relationship but I think I've mostly explained that with her having a false romantic epiphany and the fact that he struggles to connect 'hot 30ishyo woman who I massively respect' with 'that kid i knew back in Stilwater' after the 6 year gap. Plus... romance options aren't really true canon, I definitely could have left some out! But considering I did use them all, I could've said better things about the Casey/Pierce time bc that was a culmination of a lot of UST.

3. Cyrus Temple plastic surgery disguise thing.

Pros: definitive 'end date' for Casey getting plastic surgery for scars etc.; it put her off. One amusing joke.

Cons: Idk I just hate it hate it hate it. I think because a lot of game mechanics are easily explainable e.g. forgive&forget and notoriety wipe being bribes, an advanced alien race COULD have time travel etc. whereas this is something that's pretty batshit by SR3 standards but mostly at the expense of like two moments I COULD'VE JUST NOT MENTIONED IT. So if this list was in order I suspect this would be #1 😂

4. The destruction of Earth; or more specifically that they don't/can't undo the destruction of Earth despite having time travel.

Pros: I mean it's inkeeping with the Saints for me. Some people do just die and don't come back. The idea that the new planet thing is moving on from something irretrievable. A new beginning.

Cons: It just feels like a cop out using the 'oh they have time travel but can't use it to save the world bc that's a paradox' thing?

5. Matt and Casey's age gap.

Pros: The millenial/zoomer dynamic, parallels being drawn i.e. joining/creating gangs at 15, Casey being 24 when they met and Matt being 24 when the story begins. I guess relationships where the woman is older are also underepresented compared to the reverse, and being able to give Matt a "coma years don't count" line.

Cons: Idk just on a personal level obviously I'd just prefer them NOT to have a 7.5 year gap. I make it clear that she wasn't ever attracted to him until he was 22 and that the spaceship changes things in terms of life stages but still.

Bonus of some things that were my own decision that I go back and forth on: the name Casey Clark at times (there is a whole thing of 'bc she is secretly a nerd like Matt/Kinzie but she's an analog nerd' but still), Matt being (at least based on his own history) heteroromantic (ok supports split model of attraction but at the same time... Matt to me reads as a canonically bisexual character which we don't often get, why not make him bi/panromantic too?), Casey and Johnny's brother/sister thing in general (idk if that was trying too hard to make them platonic bc generally I rather like GatBoss), writing in accents, not giving enough focus to the secondary pairings esp the more visibly queer ones all bc I originally wanted to keep secondary pairings up in the air for the reader, Casey's SR3 look at times, POSTING HER NAME ALL OVER FUCKING TUMBLR. I could go on 😅

This all seems more negative than I'm meaning it to be bc I put pros first. I love working in the canon and the way plot points have blossomed from it. In fact I put something at the end of my last chapter about how things for this often just fall into place and just leave me 😲.

I will probably make a second list at some point when I think of more 😅