#it's rather sad innit

[monsterbrush]

I just thought about something… Does the Flagon have a love interest or has have love interests before?

Believe it or not, he DOES currently have a love interest! If he's had others, he does not remember them, because he cannot remember anything prior to The Big Sword.

He's been pining after her for YEARS. Some say centuries even!

She's a lovely thing. Her scales are the prettiest blend of reds, pinks, and oranges. Her wings are so flat and wide she can glide for miles without so much as a single wingbeat. She soars so high, rarely ever landing, and when she does it is only atop the highest cliffs. Hates humans, hates dragons. Very mean. Very elusive.

She is the Total Package.

There is just one very big problem...

Flagon is a downed dragon. He can no longer fly for a variety of reasons.

His breath weapon is a violent regurgitation of lava that he keeps in a special second stomach which heats and melts inorganic materials, and it can be quite heavy when it's full. Which it often is.

And, to put it bluntly: He has also gotten rather fat. Walking everywhere is great cardio, but not when you empty taverns and banquets and a farms every time you stop.

"But it's mostly muscle!!!" One might say, because during tournament season our hero does trim down a bit from all the fighting. His muscle mass IS very impressive sure, but it is still very very heavy.

Additionally, due to his habit of hanging his cumbersome flag collection under his wings which are a very crucial bit of anatomy required for flight, and his long and colorful history of head traumas, he cannot fly at all. Not even a little bit. It would take a lot of dieting, physical rehabilitation, and perhaps a small museum to house his flag collection, before Flagon could be considered even remotely skyworthy.

Too make matters worse, as though it was not bad enough already, he's not very flashy... flags are very nice and colorful but they are utterly useless when the rest of you looks like a pile of rubble from a bird's-eye-view. Especially when that particular bird prefers to fly very high. She does not even know he exists.

Woe is Flagon.

[disturbnot]

no life updates today, just a general big old thank you to my friends n treasured moots who have been endlessly kind and patient with me while i try to break free of this cyclical depression and get back to writing more consistently. without needlessly traumadumping, a whole lot has happened since i was last in the rpc before the pandemic, and my will to create and share has been considerably blighted by bad actors and unnecessary conflict over those years. i really REALLY hope to reclaim my spark again, but the journey there is long and difficult. i'm enormously grateful to you folks for sticking with me and giving me grace, though, whether all you do is like my posts or go as far as to befriend and support me closely. no act of connection goes unnoticed and unappreciated 💖 thank u everyone for giving me something to hold onto while i climb my way back, not to former glory, but to a new era of falling back in love with this hobby. may we all get to see me in my thriving era!

[leporinelou]

someone replied to that that post you rb'ed about "if you can forgive steve for his past actions, you can forgive jonathan" with "this is why i forgive steve, jonathan, and billy" and then OP starting going off on them about how billy is irredeemable compared to them so it's fucked up to like him and they are glad he died 💀 bro

reaching my limit with stranger things fans truly

[fossegrima]

After a day of being around people having a genuinely good time im. Ah…. So so starved for regular time with friends and people and talking face to face…….. hit a new low in this field…

[isa-ghost]

I've thought about some of the things Tommy put in his music video between 2:50 and 3:50 since like. February (when W***** was outed as a piece of shit). I've been so sad about watching him lose role model after role model, most of which were his friends.

To have him Say It Himself now rather than me just thinking about it is so... Just. Fuck, man.

Techno passed. At least 3 other role models / friends of his I can think of off the top of my head turned out to be garbage people. At this point he basically has like. Phil and Schlatt, when it comes to role models. It sucks, and I can't imagine what it's like to BE the one who's suffered through that if just thinking about it makes me this sad. Especially considering the internet is basically like "if he doesn't have a perfectly worded statement against the person 30 seconds after they're outed for being a terrible person, he supports them and their actions and therefore should also be deplatformed and die a horrible death."

I can't watch his old videos back either, I'm right there with him. To have been an Inniter since 2020 to now... God, call me parasocial or whatever, but I'd give anything to give him a hug and tell him all the things I wish I could.

I'm proud of him for fighting his way through all this bullshit and doing his best to stay genuine.

[biblical-chronicles]

Fan-service

______________________________________________________

where Noel is so starstruck by the reader, that he can't even let a word out, especially as she presses against him to finally nail a riff that has been stuck in her head.

______________________________________________________

Oasis had been locked in the studio all week, grinding through new material. The days were dragging, and while Noel Gallagher could usually power through long sessions with determination, something had been throwing him off his rhythm lately. He sat hunched over his guitar, strumming idly while scribbling down half-finished lyrics, though his mind clearly wasn’t on the task at hand.

Across the room, Liam leaned casually against the wall, cigarette in hand, watching his older brother with a sly grin. “You’ve been well quiet lately,” Liam started, his voice cutting through the low hum of the amps. “Bit out of character, innit? Normally, you’re banging on about summat well boring by now.”

Noel shot him a look but didn’t reply, his focus stubbornly staying on his guitar.

“Oh, I get it now.” Liam smirked, dragging on his cigarette. “You’re thinkin’ about her, ain’t ya?”

At this, Noel’s fingers faltered on the strings. He didn’t say a word, but the slight stiffening of his shoulders was all Liam needed.

“Bloody hell, this is gold!” Liam’s laugh echoed through the room, and he gestured at Noel with his cigarette. “Our kid’s gone soft over that singer. What’s her name again? That band you’re always harping on about like some lovesick twat?”

“Shut it, Liam,” Noel snapped, his voice sharp but tinged with embarrassment.

“You’re always goin’ on about how talented she is, how her voice is, what’d you say, proper angelic?” Liam snorted, clearly enjoying himself. “It’s tragic, mate. Well tragic.”

“I’m not having this conversation,” Noel muttered, shaking his head as if it could physically remove the topic from existence.

“Well, you better sort it out, ‘cause they’re booked in the next studio soon, yeah?” Liam’s grin widened as he pointed out what Noel had been dreading. “She’s gonna be right down the hall. What’re you gonna do then, eh? Gonna spend the next few weeks hiding in the bogs every time she walks by?”

“Why don’t you do one and focus on something useful for once?” Noel barked, clearly over it.

“ooh touchy touchy aren't we, alright” said Liam holding up his hands in mock surrender, though the grin never left his face. “Just don’t come crying to me when she don’t even know you exist, mate.” He gave Noel one last pointed look before wandering off, still chuckling to himself.

A week later, the studio was buzzin with sound as your band arrived to record your new album. You’d barely had time to catch your breath with how fast things had been moving lately—gigs, interviews, and now this—but it was all part of the ride.

The first few days in the studio were a mix of excitement and frustration as you worked to fine-tune the tracks. Things were going well, but one song in particular was giving you trouble. The chorus needed something—a riff, a hook—but no matter how hard you and your band tried, nothing seemed to fit.

After hours of tinkering with no breakthrough, you decided to call it a night. “You lot head off,” you told your bandmates as they packed up their gear. “I’ll grab a bite and lock up.”

They nodded, wishing you goodnight as they headed out. Left alone, you wandered into the small kitchen area of the building, rummaging through the sparse offerings until you settled on a rather sad-looking snack. You leaned against the counter, chewing absentmindedly, humming away, when the melody suddenly hit you.

It was perfect. It tied the whole chorus together in your head, and you immediately knew that you couldn’t risk losing it. Tossing the wrapper in the bin, you rushed back down the corridor towards the studio room, humming the notes under your breath so you wouldn’t forget.

Reaching the door, you realized with a groan that it was locked. “Fuck,” you muttered, tugging at the handle uselessly. Of course your bandmates locked the room up on their way out.

You stood there for a moment, wracking your brain for a solution. That’s when you heard it—a faint melody drifting down the hall.

Following the sound, you found yourself in front of a door with “Oasis” scrawled on the sign. For a brief moment, nerves fluttered in your stomach. You’d heard the stories, seen the interviews - the Gallagher brothers weren’t exactly known for being approachable. But the riff was all you could think about, and with no time to hesitate, you pushed the door open.

Inside, the band had just finished playing a song, the final notes still humming in the air. Four pairs of eyes turned to you as you stepped in, looking a bit out of place but determined nonetheless.

“Hi,” you said, trying to sound casual despite the sudden silence. “Sorry to interrupt, but, uh... would you mind if I borrowed a guitar for a sec? I’ve got this riff stuck in me head, and I need to get it down before I forget.”

Nobody said a word, the room was eerily quiet, the only sound being the faint hum of their amps. You shifted awkwardly, wondering if you’d made a mistake.

“Everyone alright? Or did I walk in at a bad time?” you joked, laughing nervously.

Finally, Liam broke the silence, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, yeah, it’s all good. I’m sure Noel won’t mind you borrowing his gear. He’s a big fan.” He turned to his brother and not-so-subtly jabbed him in the ribs.

Noel, however, looked like he might spontaneously combust at any moment now. His face turned a deep shade of red as he opened his mouth to respond but found no words. Instead, he just sat there, gripping his guitar like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

The sight sent Liam into a small fit of laughter, and it wasn’t long before the rest of the band joined in. You stood there, thoroughly confused but trying not to let it show.

“Right,” you said slowly, glancing at Liam, who was practically doubled over, already in the process of nudging Noel again. “Well, maybe don’t knock your guitarist out while you’re at it. He’s important to the band, isn’t he? And, he's kinda cute too, would be a shame to lose him.”

That only made things worse. Noel somehow managed to turn an even darker shade of red, his face now matching the hue of his knit. Liam was in hysterics at this point, the rest of the band not being far behind.

You glanced at Noel again, noticing the wide-eyed, slightly panicked expression that hadn’t left his face. His grip on the guitar seemed to tighten, and his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Okay,” you said, trying to suppress a smile as you addressed the room. “He might be broken or summat, but listen, I really need to get this riff out before it slips away from me.”

Before anyone could respond, you walked over to Noel and, without much thought, slid your arms around him to reach the guitar. He froze completely, every muscle in his body going stiff as you gently moved his hands to make room for yours on the neck of the instrument.

“Right, let’s see if this works,” you muttered, focused on the notes in your head. You began plucking at the strings, slowly piecing together the melody as Noel sat motionless beneath you. Your body pressed lightly against his as you leaned over him to reach the frets, completely oblivious to the utter chaos you were causing in his head.

Behind you, Liam’s laughter hit a new level. “You seeing this?” he wheezed, looking around at the rest of the band, who were also struggling to keep their composure. “Our Noel! He’s gone, mate. Completely gone.”

The room erupted into more laughter, but you couldn't hear it, too focused on the riff. Yet, you could feel Noel shifting slightly under you, as if he were trying to sink into the floor.

Finally, you played the last few notes, the riff clicking perfectly into place. “That’s it,” you said, grinning as you let the final chord ring out. “Bloody hell, I’m glad I got that down.”

You leaned closer to Noel’s ear, whispering a quick, “Thanks for this. You’re a lifesaver.”

It wasn’t until you pulled back that you noticed just how red Noel’s face was. His skin was practically glowing, and his eyes had this dazed, glassy look as he stared blankly ahead. You couldn’t help but smile, the pieces finally starting to click into place.

“Well, I should probably head off now,” you said, stepping back from Noel and addressing the room. “Thanks for letting me steal your guitarist for a bit. I really appreciate it—and I’d love to hang out properly sometime with you lot. We’ll all be stuck here for weeks, yeah?”

The rest of the band nodded, offering their goodbyes and complimenting your career so far.

As you stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you, you could still hear the faint sound of Liam cackling. You shook your head, chuckling to yourself as you started walking toward the main exit.

You didn’t get far before the door burst open behind you.

“Noel wants a private meet-and-greet!” Liam’s voice rang out, his laughter following soon after as he all but dragged his older brother into the hallway by the ear.

You turned to find Noel half-protesting, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t quite decide what to say. Liam, on the other hand, was clearly having the time of his life, practically bouncing on his feet with glee.

“Well?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you crossed your arms. “Is that true, Noel?”

Noel opened his mouth, presumably to deny everything, but Liam cut in before he could speak. “Go on, mate. Tell her how you feel. Or d’you need me to spell it out for ya?”

“Piss off, Liam,” Noel grumbled, his voice finally returning, though his usual confidence was still nowhere to be found.

“Nah, I’ll leave you to it,” Liam said, grinning as he turned back toward the studio. “But don’t think I won’t come back if you bottle it.” With that, he disappeared back inside, leaving you and Noel alone in the hallway.

You tilted your head, studying Noel with an amused expression. “Alright, what’s this all about, then? What’s he on about?”

Noel rubbed the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at you. “It’s... it’s nothin’. He’s just taking the piss, per usual.”

“Didn’t seem like nothin’ to me,” you said, stepping closer. “Come on, Noel. Spit it out. I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what’s going on.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. Look... I’m a big fan of yours, alright? I think you’re brilliant—your voice, your songwriting, the lot of it. And, uh... maybe I fancy you a little, or whatever.”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “Is that so? Well, I’m flattered, really.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking down at his shoes. “It’s probably weird, me sayin’ all this.”

“Not weird at all,” you assured him, pulling him into a hug. “And for the record, I’d love to go out with you sometime.”

His head shot up, his eyes wide with surprise. “You serious?”

“Dead serious,” you said with a grin, though you couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “Though I can’t promise I won’t tell everyone about how red your face went earlier.”

“Not funny,” he muttered, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. His skin burned under your lips, and when you pulled back, you noticed how dazed he looked. Something about the moment felt too perfect to pass up, so you decided to close the gap again—this time pressing your lips fully to his.

Noel stiffened for just a moment before melting into the kiss, his hands slipping to your waist, tugging you firmly against him. The heat between you was immediate, as your fingers brushed along his jawline, tracing the scruff there before burying themselves in his hair. When you tugged gently, a low groan escaped him, his breath hitching audibly as he deepened the kiss, his grip on your hips tightening possessively.

His hands grew bolder, one sliding down to the curve of your hip while the other trailed up the small of your back, his fingers skimming the fabric as if itching to touch bare skin. The pressure of his hold sent a shiver through you, and you pressed yourself closer, your body molding against his in a way that left no space between you.

The kiss turned hungrier, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that sent sparks racing down your spine. His hands weren’t still for a moment, one sliding just beneath the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare lower back, the other venturing up your side, his thumb grazing tantalizingly close to your bra clasp.

With a subtle shift, Noel pressed you gently but firmly against the wall, his body following to keep you pinned there. You felt his fingers grip your shirt, bunching the fabric like he needed something to ground him, though the way his lips never left yours suggested he was perfectly content losing himself entirely. Your hands roamed freely now—one still tugging at his hair while the other drifted down to the broad expanse of his chest.

Then, as though driven by instinct, he hooked one of your legs around his hip, his hand sliding down to your thigh to hold it in place. The new position pressed you even closer together, your body arching into his as his lips never left yours.

You gasped into his mouth, your hands tightening in his hair and pulling him even deeper into the kiss. His grip on your thigh was firm, his fingers digging in slightly as though to steady both of you. His lips trailed to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed a line down to your neck, his teeth grazing ever so slightly.

"Christ," he muttered against your skin, his voice huskier than usual, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. "You’re gonna be the death of me"

You grinned, breathless, your thumb tracing the outline of his cheek as you whispered back, "Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?"

Before either of you could take it further, a familiar voice rang out from the hallway.

"Oi! I see the meet-and-greet’s come with some extra fan service!"

You both froze. Noel’s head snapped up, his face going a deeper shade of red than you thought humanly possible. You turned toward the doorway to find Liam standing there, leaning casually against the frame with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"Honestly, Noel," Liam continued, his voice dripping with mockery, "you’re supposed to ask for an autograph, not sexual favours."

Noel scrambled to put your leg down, his hands leaving you so fast it was almost comical, though he kept his body angled slightly in front of yours as if to shield you from Liam’s teasing.

"Fuck right off, Liam!" Noel barked, his voice sharp but his face still burning.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning around Noel to flash Liam a cheeky grin. "Well, it’s good to know you’re keeping an eye out for your brother."

"Oh, don’t worry, love," Liam said, crossing his arms. "I’ll keep this one on a leash from now on. Can’t have him getting any more ideas."

As Liam sauntered away, you turned back to Noel, biting your lip to stifle a laugh. "Well," you said softly, brushing a thumb along his jaw, "I guess we’ll definitely need to thank your brother for that."

Noel groaned, shaking his head, but the small grin tugging at his lips told you he wasn’t entirely upset.

______________________________________________________

@shes-thunderstormssss this request was so fucking biblical, I just have to tag you, you lot please thank this absolute legend for it. Hopefully it meets your expectations, I just thought it’d be well more fun if the whole band had a laugh and tortured Noel a bit, get him proper flustered x

I proper enjoyed writin’ this, probably more than I should’ve, was expecting to have it done by tomorrow afternoon but here ya go me biblical skill knows no boundaries. Feel free to bombard me inbox with new requests, or yer apple pie recipes I don't give a toss, just love interacting with you lot xx

[royalphantompain]

Man....... That's craaaazyyyy innit, mate. This scene is bonkers........

Like holy shit-

In the second episode, Pomni just looked so miserable for the first half of the episode.

Sopping wet cat of a woman

I mean, can you really blame her? After realizing that, basically, her old life is gone, and this is her new home now. Forever!!!! Yippie!!!! She had to come to terms with it yesterday. This honestly just sort of feels like she is dissociating.

But then, underneath the map, where Gummigoo demands to know what she is, and after he finds out the truth.

I think it's safe to say she is still not doing too well, but she sees this NPC in distress and still just feels wrong letting him stay that way. She knows he's fake but still goes to him.

Now, I also kind of like to interpret in a way that she can sort of relate to him finding out everything is not real. While she is a real person, does her life actually matter at this point? Is she even who she was when she was a human? She may have memories of her past like but she has a new face and a new name, and she can never go back to the real world, but that may be me reaching and maybe in the end she was only saying she related to feeling like nothing, and I just ranted about nothing and I am not normal.

Regradless, ever since she came here, this is the first person she actually has a real conversation with and actually confides in, and she offers him to stay in the circus with.

I mean, uhh, while that didn't go, uhhhhh, quite as planned, erm, awkwaaaaaard..... I do think this is a very important moment for Pomni and her development. Even though in the end, she did realize the other humans would care about her, the first person she connected with was this gelatin NPC, so he was still important to her, and probably meant a lot.

I absolutely adore episode 3 a lot, but I don't think it really adds anything here, so moving on.

God, she is such a pathetic fucking loser. She is so cringe and such a failure. I love her more than anything.

All of a sudden, someone who she considered a friend is now back after she aww him literally explode into confetti, but he just goes up to her and orders from her like it was nothing. How excatly do you react to that? Like she wanted to ask that, but do you just say, "Hey, remember that time I told you to come back home with me, but since you aren't real, I literally accidentally killed you?" But also, in his point of view, this stranger just comes up to him and can't even form a coherent sentence, and crawls on the floor, like huh???? Girl???? What is wrong with you???

LOOK JUST HOW UNCOMFORTABLE HE IS BECAUSE OF HER- LIKE IT IS GENUINELY SO SAD TO SEE POMNI TRYING TO BE BY SOMEONE SHE CONSIDERED A FRIEND BUT HE JUST FEELS UNCOMFORTABLE AROUND THIS WEIRD LITTLE JESTER- YOU CANNOT BLAME HIM FOR FEELING THIS WAY- AND SHE CAN SEE IT-

Before he opens the door, he still looks uncomfortable and just leaves her there, and he can not understand why she was acting this way.

Honestly it's this part that killed me the most.

That is not her friend. It's just a stranger using the same model. It isn't the Gummigoo she knew and had an important moment with.

This scene honestly was so cringey but in a way that was genuinely more sad than anything. I love it.

ANYWAY!!!!! I love this show, and I absolutely would love to spill my thoughts on absolutely everything in this new episode besides my beloved pathetic wet cat jester, but it's 2 AM, and I have to go to work at a job where sometimes I would rather eat glass and laundry detergent :']

[constellationguy]

Another perspective

Halloween Special

"Text: regular talking

'Text': regular thinking

"Text": Saiki talking telepathically

'Text': Saiki thinking

Summary: Class 3 puts on a Halloween play, an adaptation of the Corpse Bride.

ATTENTION! You might want to read the last few episodes of Another Perspective to fully understand the characters and/or rewatch the movie Corpse Bride before reading to fully understand the events.

Red: Y/N’s mother

Orange: Y/N’s father + lord Barkus

Green: Saiki’s father + singing skeleton

Blue: Kokomi + kokomi’s mother

Purple: Y/N

Pink: Saiki

Another Perspective Halloween Special:

The Corpse Groom

Act one begins in a gray, poor ish looking town.

“Here ye here ye! Ten minutes until the L/N wedding rehearsal!”

“It’s a beautiful day!” “It’s a rather nice day.” “A day for a glorious wedding.”

“A rehearsal my dear, to be perfectly clear.” “A rehearsal for a glorious wedding.”

“Assuming nothing happens that we don’t really know.” “That nothing unexpected interferes with the show.”

“And that’s why everything, every last little thing, every single tiny little microscopic thing little thing must go, according to plan!”

“Our child will be married.” “According to plan.” “Our family carried.”

“Will be brought to the heights of society.”

“To the costume balls,” “in the hallowed halls” “rubbing elbows with the finest.” “Having crumpets with her highness.”

“We’ll be there, we’ll be seen having tea with the queen. We’ll forget everything, that we’ve ever ever been.”

“Where’s Y/N? We might be late.”

The L/N’s leave the stage and the Teruhashi’s walk on.

“It’s a terrible day.” “Now don’t be that way.”

“It’s a terrible day for a wedding.” “It’s a sad sad state of affairs we’re in.” “That had lead to this ominous wedding.”

“How could our family have come to this?”

“To marry off our daughter to the newly rich.”

“They’re so common” “so crass,” “it couldn’t be worse.” “It’s couldn’t be worse? I’m afraid I disagree. They would be penniless without a coin to their name, just like you and me.”

“Oh dear.”

“So that why everything. Every last little thing, every single tiny microscopic little thing must go, according to plan.” “Our daughter we’ll wed.”

“According to plan.” “Our family lead.” “From the depths of dearest poverty. To the noble of our ancestry.” “And who would have guessed in a million years that our daughter would provide our ticket to our rightful place?”

The parents walk off stage and the scene is now set farther in the desolate mansion, where Kokomi was getting dress for the wedding.

“What if Y/N and I don’t like each other?” Kokomi asked.

“Ha! As if that has anything to do with marriage. Do you suppose your father and I like each other? ” Her mother responded.

“Surely you must! A little.”

“Of course not,” the both rebutted.

“Get those corsets laced properly. I can hear you speak without gasping.” Ms Teruhashi said dismissively then everyone walked off stage.

Y/N just finished getting ready and ran into the carriage that would take them to the Teruhashi manor.

“We certainly hope to win her this time Y/N.” “Now all you have to do is reel her in.”

“I’m already reeling mother. Shouldn’t Teruhashi Kokomi be marrying… a lord or something?” Y/N responded plainly.

“Oh nonsense. We’re every bit as good as the Teruhashi’s. I always knew I deserved better than a fish merchant’s life.”

“But, I’ve never even spoken to her.” “Well at least we have that in our favor!”

Going back to the Teruhashi family.

“Marriage is a partnership. A little tit for tat. You think a life time watching us, would have taught her that.” “Everything must be perfect.”

“That’s why everything. Every last little thing, every single tiny microscopic little thing must go, according to plan.” Both sets of parents said.

As the door open to the Teruhashi manor Y/N mother was fussing over them.

“Oh! Oh such gradure! Such impeccable taste. Beautiful innit.” “It’s not as big as our place dear. But shabby it is, isn’t it” “Shut up!”

“Lord and lady Teruhashi, Mr and Ms L/N.”

“Why you must be Ms Victoria. I must say, you don’t look a day over 20.”

“Smile darling smile,” the lord found it hard to do so.

“Well hello, what a pleasure, welcome to our home.”

“We’ll be taking tea in the west drawing room, do come with us.” Both sets of parents set off, leaving Y/N alone in the foyer. However they found a piano, it was in-tune so they decided to play it.

The music was somber but powerful, it flooded the manor and even reach Teruhashi’s doors. Hearing the piano played made her run out of her room to meet the player, but she ended up spooking Y/N.

“Oh do forgive me.” “You play beautifully.” Teruhashi said with a smile.

“Excuse me for the playing, and the mess,” Y/N said awkwardly as they picked up the piano stool that they had knocked over.

“If I may ask, Teruhashi, where is your chaperone?” “In view of the circumstances you could call Kokomi. As tomorrow we are to be married.” “Yes.” Y/N like they had forgotten that fact.

“Since I was a child I’ve dreamt of my wedding day. I always hoped to find someone I was deeply in love with. Silly isn’t it.”

“Silly? No. To our parents? Perhaps. But to me? No. Wanting love isn’t as silly as our parents make it out to be.” Y/N said with charm.

“What sort of impropriety is this?! You shouldn’t be alone together. Here it is, one minute before 5:00 and you’re not at the rehearsal. The pastor is waiting, come at once.” Ms Teruhashi was clearly outraged, shooing everyone off stage as the curtains came down.

There was a small break where the curtains closed as the chapel scene was set for act two.

—————————————————————————

“Again! From the beginning. With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty for I will be your wine. With this candle I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine. Let’s try it again.” Said the pastor.

“Yes. Yes sir. With! This candle.” The candle did not light when Y/N put to the flames. “With this candle.” Y/N repeated, again it did not light. “This candle,” Y/N said dejected. Y/N tried multiple times to get the candle to light, but it didn’t work. Once it did light Y/N restarted the phrase.

“With this candle!” When Y/N laughed dryly to ease themself the candle blew out. Causing both sets of parents to groan. “Continue!” The pastor said, suddenly the door bell rang and a butler was sent to get it.

“Let’s just pick it up at the candle bit.” Said the pastor. “A lord Barkus sir,” “I haven’t a head for dates, apparently I’m a day early for the ceremony.” Said this supposed lord Barkus.

“Is he from your side of the family?” “I can’t recall, Emil. A seat for lord Barkus.” “Do carry on.”

“Let’s try it again. Shall we Mx L/N” “Yes sir, certainly” They said quietly Teruhashi lit their candle for them.

“Right.” The pastor said with annoyance. “Right. Oh! Right!” Y/N once held the candle in their left hand quickly and cartoonishly put it in their right hand. “With this… this.” “Hand.” “With this hand.” Y/N then hit the table by accident.

“Three steps! Three! Can you not count?” The pastor yelled. “Do you not wish to be married Mx Y/N?” “No! No.” “You do not?” Teruhashi asked.

“No, no. I meant I do not not wish to be married. Which is that I want very much to- Ow!” The pastor hit Y/N with his cane. “Pay attention! Have you even remembered to bring the ring?”

“The ring? Yes of course.” Y/N produced the ring from their breast pocket but it fell from their hand. “Dropping the ring?! This child does not want to get married!” Y/N ran after the ring and grabbed it however Ms Teruhashi’s dress was set on fire by Y/N’s candle. Luckily lord Barkus put out the flame with his drink.

“Enough! This wedding will not take place until this child is properly prepared! Child! Learn. Your. Vows.” The pastor said sternly towards Y/N, with much fear Y/N existed the stage.

“He’s quite the catch, isn’t he.” Said lord Barkus.

—————————————————————————

The curtain closed and shuffling was heard as actor left the stage and the back drop was changed again, to a forest, the setting of act three.

“Oh Teruhashi. She must think I’m such a fool.” Y/N said glumly. “This day couldn’t get any worse.”

“Hear ye hear ye! The rehearsal is ruined because L/N child causes chaos!” Y/N could only sigh and walk away from the voice shouting from off stage.

As Y/N walked slowly the background slowly changed,showing Y/N going deeper into a forest.

“It really shouldn’t be all that difficult. It’s just a few simple vows! With this hand I will take your wine- no!” Y/N sounded tired and frustrated but they continued to walk.

“With … this… with this, with this candle I will-”before they even realized, Y/N walked very far, not even recognizing their surroundings.

“I will, set your mother on fire,” Y/N face palmed. “Oh it’s no use…” Y/N paused for a moment, gathering themself.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. Ah! Ms Teruhashi. You look ravishing this evening.” Y/N said with confidence, holding a tree branch.

“What’s that Mr Teruhashi? Call you dad? If you insist sir.” Y/N said to another tree.

Y/N broke off a small branch before speaking again with vigor and acting out the motions of the vow. “With this candle, I will light your way in darkness! With this ring! I ask you, to be mine!” Y/N said while placing the ring on a hand like branch.”

The sound of wind and crows that was once idol now blared in the speakers as the branch was now moving. And the noise was blaring as the branch grabbed and tugged Y/N’s arm beneath the stage.

Y/N fought with the hand and managed to break free but a skeletal arm still held theirs. Scared at the sight they threw the arm off stage. The hole where the hand looking branch used to be, opened up and someone sprouted from it.

“I do.” The man from the ground replied. He was dressed in a tattered wedding suit and his skin was painted to look decomposing. Y/N gasped and ran away from the newly animated corpse but the groom chased them into the forest and through the graveyard.

Y/N only stopped momentarily when they ran into a tree. But otherwise Y/N was running for their life, fighting trees and brambles to get away.

Once Y/N got to the bridge and the man was out of sight Y/N started to walk and catch their breath. However when they turned around the dead man was right behind them.

The man approached Y/N and held their shoulders gently as he said, “You may kiss the groom,” when he leaned in the curtains closed, signaling the end of act three.

—————————————————————————

When the curtain opened again a skeleton and the tattered groom surrounded Y/N in what but the sound of the place seemed to be a jazz bar.

“A new arrival.” “They must have fainted. Are you alright?” “What, what happened?”

“By Joe man, looks like we’ve got ourselves a breather!” A skeleton said before he was pushed by a blue corpse woman. “Do they have a dead brother?” “They’re still soft!”

Y/N could only whimper was they got up from their place on the floor.

“A drink! To the newly weds!” “Newly weds?” Y/N wondered allowed.

“Ah! In the woods you said your vows so perfectly,” corpse groom said sweetly. “I did? I did!” Y/N said in awe. “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” Banged their head on the bar table to try and wake themselves from what they thought was a dream.

When Y/N stopped they were terrified and started walking through the crowd of skeletons and various bodies before they finally lost it and tried to pick up a sword but ended up also taking the man who the sword was attached to.

“I’ve got a- a dwarf. And I’m not afraid to use him! I want some questions! Now!” “Answers, I think you mean answers,” the man on the sword said. “Thank you, yes answers. I need answers! What’s going on here? Where am I? Who are you?”

“Well, that’s kind of a long story.” “What a story it is, a tragic tale of romance, passion, and a murder most foul.” “This is going to be good,” the sword man addressed Y/N before they dropped him.

“Hit it boys.” The skeleton that started talking about said story started to hit other skeletons, making them come alive while a skeleton on the piano make the bar alive with music.

“Hey! Give me a listen you corpses of cheer. Least the one that still got an ear, I’ll tell you a story, make a skeleton cry of our own jubilisously lovely corpse groom!” As Y/N looked towards the groom, he seemed rather melancholy.

“Die, die, we all pass away. Don’t be afraid cause it’s really okay. You might try and hide, you might try and pray, but we all end up the remains of the day.” The skeletons danced to the chorus their bones adding another level of sound to the music.

“Well! Your boy was a beauty, known for miles around, till a mysterious stranger came into town. He was plenty good looken but down on his cash, and our poor little baby, he fell hard fast.” The skeleton dipped himself into the groom’s arms as he told the story to Y/N.

“When his daddy said no! He just couldn’t cope, so our lovers came up with the plan to elope.”

“Die, die, we all pass away. But don’t be afraid cause it’s really okay. You might try and hide, you might try and pray but we all end up the remains of the day!” By the time the chorus came around the bar patrons came to dance with Y/N.

Instead of going straight back into the story the group of skeletons played some heavy jazz and showed off their skills.

“Ya! So the conjured up a plan to meet late at night. They told not a soul, kept the whole thing tight. Now his father’s suit fit like a glove, you don’t need much when you’re really in love. Except for a few things, or so I’m told, but the family jewels and a satchel of gold. Then next to the grave yard by the old oak tree, on a dark foggy night at a quarter to three. He was ready to go! But where was he?”

“And then?” The crowd asked. “He waited.” “And then?” “There in the shadows, was it the man?” “The man?”

“His little heart beat so loud!” “And then?” “And then baby. Everything went black.”

“Now when he opened his eyes. He was dead as dust. He’s jewels were missing and his heart was bust. So he made a vow lying under that tree, that’s he’d wait for his true love to come set him free. Oh he’s waiting for someone to go and his hand.” The groom then takes Y/N’s hand and they spin to the music

“When out of the blue comes this groovy young sport, who vows forever to be by his side! And that’s the story of our own, corpse, groom!”

As the song ends and the crowd cheers Y/N runs up the stairs and makes it out of the bar, and when the door shuts so does the curtain.

—————————————————————————

Act five starts on the streets of a more blue than gray town, where the corpse groom was searching for Y/N.

“Y/N, darling where are you?” “If you ask me, your partner is kinda jumpy,” a voice sounded from the speakers. “They’re not just my partner, they’re my spouse.” The groom told the voice.

“Y/N? Where’ve you gone?” “I’ll keep any eye out for him” said the maggot in the groom’s eye socket. Little did they know Y/N was watching from behind a statue.

“Y/N?” “There they are, there they are! They’re getting away, quick quick!” As the voice sounded from the speakers Y/N ran off again.

“Y/N?” The groom paused for a moment so the arms in barrels pointed in the direction Y/N went, “thank you.”

“Y/N, where are you?” Y/N knew their groom was close behind so they played dead in coffin as he passed by. “Married huh? I’m a widow.” A spider said, hanging from the top of the coffin.

“He went that way!” The spider said as Y/N ran off in the direction they came from.

“Y/N, Y/N darling.”

“Please! There’s been a mistake!” Y/N said while grabbing the shoulders of a pedestrian. “I’m not dead!” After their head fell off, Y/N ran away from the now headless man, trying to get as far away from the shouting of their name as possible.

“Dead end.” In their hysteria, Y/N started to climb the wall. However when they reached the top they grabbed onto their groom, who appeared out of no where.

“You could have used the stairs silly.” The groom said as they pulled up Y/N. “Isn’t the view beautiful? It just takes my breath away. Well it would if I had any. Isn’t it romantic?” Saiki asked as he sat down on a near by bench. Y/N defeatedly sat done next to him.

“Look. I am terribly sorry about what’s happened to you, and I’d like to help. But I really need to get home.”

“This is your home now.” “But I don’t even know your name.” “It’s Kusuo.”

“Kusuo.” Y/N said, letting his name roll off their tongue.

“I’ve almost forgot, I have something for you!” Saiki said, grabbing a box from beside him. “It’s a wedding present.” He whispered.

Y/N lightly shook the box before opening it. When they did they gasped at the sight of bones. And turn fearful when the box started to shake and it jumped from their lap. Before their eyes Y/N watched as the pile of bones turned into a dog skeleton, it barked, then pranced back to Y/N giving them its collar.

“Scraps?” Y/N asked, the dog barked in response.

“Scraps! My dog Scraps!” Y/N said lovingly and the dog jumped onto their lap. “Oh Scraps, what a good boy!”

“I knew you’d be happy to see him,” Kusuo said dreamily. “He’s so cute.” “You should have seen him with fur.”

“Mother never approved of scraps jumping up like this.” Y/N commented. “But then again, she never approved of anything.” “You think she would have approved of me?” “Ha, you’re lucky you’ll never have to meet her.”

“I wish I could,” Saiki said a little sad. “Well, you will one day right?” Y/N laughed humorously.

“I suppose so, well, let’s get you introduced to everyone. I’m sure that will help you settle in here.” “Are your parents around here? If you can’t meet mine yet, I might as well meet yours.”

“I think I’d like that,” Kusuo said, taking Y/N’s arm and walked off stage, Scraps following close behind. The audience clapped and the play was over.

————————————————————————-

“What did you think of the play Kusuo?”

“I still don’t understand why I played Emily. I don’t think our personalities match at all.”

“Well I don’t think Teruhashi or Hairo would let to get away without trying out for a part. It was just pure dumb luck you played the corpse groom. I was mainly asking about the story though. What did you think of it?”

“I wish we had time to play out the full movie.”

“Me too but I don’t like the idea of the real ending, I’d have to give up my life with you to marry Teruhashi. I think I like this implied ending, a bit better,” Y/N smiled. Saiki returned a small smile.

—————————————————————————

Happy Halloween! Hope you liked it!

[seeker-ophelia]

OK Y'all, I just can’t with these "Ghosts-Of-Christmas-Past-Easter-Eggs" I am finding.

Spoilers, Veilguard so ya know, watch out.

The Three Choices ™

My Sisters in Andraste, what in the ever-loving fuck is happening.

Why am I still talking about this?

"Because, Sera, Bioware, my genuine sorrow for the tragedy of our history cannot be diminished by a single moment."

These are THEIR words!

oNe DaY sOmEoNe WiLl SuMmARiZe ThE tErRiBlE EvEnTs oF yOuR LiFe So QuiCkLy

Varric: ITS KINDA HARD TO START A NEW STORY BEFORE THE OLD ONE IS OVER smhhbcqkwiokvnvanavj

"DoNt WiSh FoR uR chAraktErs To CoMe BaCk Cuz We'LL uNaLiVe TheMz"

[Sera] SHES HUMAN NOT WHATEVER YOU SAID

Varric, on the importance of being seen, even if not needed:

Varric & Bull, on choosing their people:

Varric & Solas, on the destructive nature of humans,

For now the best thing I can offer you is... *dramatic pause*... the truth.

*Gut wrenching Hidden Gulp*

But just like Solas, YOU DIDNT TELL US THE TRUTH. You HID IT FROM US.

And just like Solas, I fear your Pride will be your downfall.

These are THEIR words!

───────

Blackwall Devs:  You haven't said much to me since... well, you know.

Solas Fandom: There is little to say. I assumed we were alike. We'd seen war, knew its terrible costs, and yet understood that it was necessary. But there was nothing necessary in what you did. You did not survive death and destruction. You sowed them. To feed your own desires.

Blackwall Devs:  I know that. I see it every time I look in a mirror. I try to make up for it.

Solas Fandom: By wearing another skin. You ran away rather than face what you had done.

───────

Solas Fandom: I will remember this. When it is over.

Blackwall Devs: This? This war? The Inquisition Veilguard?

Solas Fandom: The people. How you we fought against the tide. It is... courageous.

───────

It's rough, innit, Blackwall OP? But they come and go.

Sera, don't.

Right, right... you're set on being sad forever. But then the sun freakin' comes up.

Yes, well, it's not that easy.

Didn't say it was. I implied I didn't care. Uh-huh, that's right. Implied.

(laughs)

You better laugh. I had to ask Solas for that one.

───────

[somuchbetterthanthat]

A little Gwen&Alice with heaavy alice/sam, because I needed to write something after that last ep and tumblr ficlets are less intimidating than full fics.

In hindsight, hiding in the loo is dumb. Sam's making her dumb, which is aggravating and bothersome and does not horribly ache like it used to, before, in those last few weeks they'd stayed together in the same flat while Sam prepared his trip abroad. Alice's a Cool Girl. Cool girls don't hide in bathrooms because their best friend who just so happen to be their ex arrived to the office at the arm of another woman with the sparkly bubbly smile that screams I had such a good time this weekend Celia is awesome at sex.

Then again, Alice's pretty sure her Cool Girl's crown's been stolen the moment Celia walked in with those stupid donuts for the first time (and it is painful, in a way, that Celia is cool to hang around with; pretty and fun and chill and blessed with the same ability Sam has to be friendly with everyone she meets immediately).

Whatever; Alice's excellent at building new narratives and looking away to survive. She'll withstand having Sam back in her life and then feeling like she's loosing him all over again like a fucking champ -- but she has to admit, hiding in the loo was just not a good move, 'cause now she's got to not only deny her sad moody depressing feelings, but also the fact that Gwendolyn Bouchard is clearly weeping on the stall next to hers.

"Hey," she whispers, after three long minutes of wondering whether she wants to deal with this, then deciding it's the sort of night where she'd definitely rather think of someone else's problems than her own.

There's mouvement on her left, then a sharp exhale. "What?" hisses Gwen.

"Want to tell me what this is all about?" Alice asks, staring at the door.

"No," Gwen snaps. Then: "We're in a bathroom, Alice, for god's sake, do you have any sort of decorum--"

"Exactly!" Alice cuts her off. "We're in a bathroom. That's basically being in a confessional for us ladies, innit? Sure we're not drunk out of our heads at the club or whatever, but I think this qualifies all the same. Everything you'll say is sacred in here my dear. Any sin is between you, me, and those awful scratchy paper roll that we're always out of. Hope you've got an handkerchief ready, by the way."

It must strike a nerve, because Gwen stays silent for a good thirty seconds before she mutters: "Anyone could come in."

"Oh, please," Alice snorts. "We both know Lena's not human enough to have to use the loo and Celia's too busy getting lost into Sam's eyes, we're fine."

"Why do you say that?" Gwen asks, her tone suddenly more alert.

"...'Cause Celia is getting lost in Sam's eyes? I mean, I know you have your whole thing going on and you're wayy better than us now that you got that shiny promotion you wanted so much, but they've literally been building this whole sickening little office romance just in front of our noses for like, two months, surely you haven't missed that. Kinda surprised you haven't actually told them this was against regulations or whatever."

"No not Celia, I don't care about her, or whatever's going on with Sam (Lucky you, Alice thinks meanly, and has to bite her tongue very hard). I mean about Lena. Do you think she's --" Gwen stops, exhales shakily. "Now, that'd be ridiculous. Obviously. She's nothing like --"

Oh, Alice thinks. Oh, Gwendolyn. She wishes people would listen to her, when she says to look away. Sam and Gwen are similar that way, she notes. All too ready to dig themselves into messes that are much too big for them to take on.

"I was making a joke," she tells Gwen. "I do that, sometimes. Oh, not very often of course, you know me, all too serious for this sort of nonsense, but I have heard before that it can lighten the mood here and there--"

"God, you are unsufferable."

"Is that how you talk to your priest, Gwendolyn? Shame on you."

"I'm leaving now. This is all pointless, and we've got work to do anyway."

"Do we ever," Alice sighs.

"You've been here for like, twenty five minutes, by the way," Gwen adds. "If you want to keep pretending you're not the one mooning over Sam, you might want to come out soon."

[best-romanov-monarch]

BONUS POLL(S): The Worst Romanov Monarch Announcement

No finals this week! No Best Romanov Monarch without finding the Worst one, lads (gender neutral)! We are trying to drum up some hype here, and we decided that the best way to do that is to postpone the finals in favor of a one last bonus poll...

Anyway. We went back to the Elimination Round to pick out all the losers (except Pyotr I.) and rounded them up in a grand week-long battle royale. Every round gets a day to play out, then one day off as a breather. There's only eight of them, so it shouldn't be that hard.

OUR CONTESTANTS:

Mikhail I. Fyodorovich - Better than Smuta, we guess. Then again, he had his dad doing the hardest work for him. If only every clergyman in the service of Romanovs was this useful, innit.

Alexander III. - We know we compared him to a polar bear, but honestly, we'd rather meet the actual animal. That one at least wouldn't worsen Russia's longstanding problem with lack of democracy.

Fyodor III. - Gets a gold star for trying. Not enough to save his siblings from a bloody succession crisis, but you know.

Ivan V. - The most significant thing this dude ever did was conceiving, or at least provide legal cover for the conception of Anna Ivanovna. I am sure he'd be sad if he ever gave a shit about anything.

Anna Leopoldovna - There are no prizes for a second place when you're an 18th century Romanov. Even though as a fellow lazy loser bisexual gal, admin can't help but feel bad for her.

Nikolai I. - How would I put this. This guy is so unpopular he lost to Anna Ivanovna. Narrowly, but still!

Pyotr III. - Also gets a gold star for trying, but like. Have you ever fucked up so hard your whole army decided it would rather see your foreign-born wife on the throne than you?

Alexander I. - Sorry man, you just couldn't pull off ideological inconsistency with the same flair as Ekaterina II...

[rosethreeart]

Arthur gets some Flashbacks to His Youth™️

Based off of this little convo with apersonwholikeslotus :>

I...Started writing cause this thought consumed my brain for a moment so here have a little snippet of the School of Punk AU of how this scene actually plays out :}

Arthur could hear the sound of his daughter’s pounding feet against the wood of the floor before he even saw her.

“Dad!” Abigail exclaimed, the flooring  beneath rapidly squeaked as eagerly shuffled in place.

Not wanting to lose his place in his book, he halfheartedly paid attention to her as he searched for his bookmark, “Yes, poppet?”

A few more footsteps later, this time muffled by the carpet she had just stepped onto, Arthur could see the silhouette of his daughter in his peripheral. 

Ah, there it was. Cheeky little thing slipped between the couch cushions. 

“Daaaaaad!” His daughter whined.

Sighing as he finished placing the bookmark in its designated slot, he looked up at her.

There she was, standing in the living room in his old punk jacket. It was a red so dark it was almost black, just like his daughter’s long and wildly curly hair. The patches he had sown on it when he was but a teen were still there, although some were fraying at the seams. The leather seemed to be fine, no leather rot in sight, much to his subconscious relief. It fit poorly on her as it was a few sizes too big, almost completely enveloping her arms and hands. 

“What do you think? Pretty cool, innit?” Abigail said as she gave a little twirl, showing it off.

“Yeah…” He said, not fully present in the moment. 

Abigail immediately stopped her little modeling gig, “Something wrong?” she asked.

Arthur blinked a few times in order to force himself to focus,”No. No, nothing is wrong.”

His daughter began to play with one of the small little pieces on the jacket,”Are you sure? I know I’m not really supposed to go up to the attic by myself, and—”

“It’s alright,” He said, cutting her off gently as he stood up. Were his knees always this achy? 

A bittersweet smile graced his lips as he approached his daughter who was staring curiously at him with bright hazel eyes. 

“That was my jacket you know,” He began to say as he adjusted said clothing to better fit the girl, “ Actually, I got it when I was about your age; maybe a little bit older.”

“Am I getting some dad lore?” Abigail said in that blunt manner of hers.

Arthur did a slight double-take, “Pardon?”

“Y’know? Dad lore? Where your dad never really talks about anything from their past until really random moments and it’s always the most bizarre thing you’ve ever heard?” Abigail stated as if she was asking him if he knew what a bird was. 

“No need to get cheeky,” he chided, “but I see your point.”

His eyes’ softened as he watched her nose crinkle and her braces-filled smile widened as she giggled. 

“Do you want it?” He asked her, “I…suppose I have no use for it anymore.”

“Does that make you sad?” Abigail said, tilting her head slightly.

Arthur chuckled, “I suppose the ever creeping march of time can be a bit disheartening, but it can be a wonderful thing too.”

“Are you getting sappy on me?” 

“Oh, very much so,” He said as he pulled his little one into a hug, which she gleefully returned. 

“Are you sure I can have it,” She asked, voice muffled by his sweater.

He caressed her leather coated arm with his thumb. It was odd to feel the leather of it on his skin again. It had been so many years since he had last seen, let alone felt it…

“Of course, darling.” He planted a quick kiss on her head, “Would much rather have you wear it than let it keep collecting dust up there.”

“Be careful with it,” He said a little more sternly than he intended, “it’s old…and important…and valuable…and—”

“I get it,” Abigail groaned, “it’s a frail old man whose seen stuff, just like you.” a smirk appeared on her face in that silly little way it did when she was joking.

“Oi!” He feigned hurt feelings, ”I’m not that old.”

“You’re getting there!”

“Don’t make me take that bloody jacket back.” He replied dryly.

“Nooo!” She laughed.

Arthur watched as Abigail eventually flitted away to show off her jacket to her step-brother. That thing had been there for him in his darkest of times, the weight it carried will always be there with him, even if the jacket no longer was. It was still hard to let that era of his life go, it seemed, however he was very glad that it found a new home with someone that he knew would love it just as dearly as he did. 

[isogenderskitty]

cons of no british accents

no joey doing more of the owen saf accent which is one of the only times Ever in Anything that i’m like “oh my god an american can actually do an english accent????? and it doesn’t make me want to yell (/neg)??????? whoa”

pros of no british accents

no one can mess it up and make me sad. like i’d rather nobody tried than any of them were rly bad FJSJFJF

side note i feel in my bones that they’re gonna do a bunch of silly goofy british accents at iski. because like they named the show “it’s starkid innit?”. the description of the announcement trailer was Like That. they’re definitely going to bully us. and i for one cannot wait

[phagodyke]

ok moment over its all good

oh who am I fucking kidding. I'm not gonna go am I.

[mothmvn]

i wish i could feel like ukrainian language was truly something mine i wanted to reclaim. it'll never be 100% authentic or genuine; i'm a grown enough man to admit that i dont feel a drive to speak ukrainian over russian, i rather feel embarrassed to even bring up speaking russian in front of "proper" ukrainians who do feel this Ukrainian Desire to speak ukrainian or whatever, which is a hell of a way to feel about the place you grew up and the language you grew up speaking in that place. even though russian is just a fucking language, and has been passed from parent to child in my family for 3+ generations, NOT first and foremost from State to Servant. if i spit at russian the language, it doesn't land on russia, it lands on my grandparents, my parents, my aunties and uncles, my friends. and the rhetoric around adopting ukrainian is often abandoning russian, often with a lot of hatred and anger (duh), and i dont want my parents or grandparents to feel that im giving up the vessel they've only ever used to love me. i DON'T want to walk away from the tools they've always used to love me — i wish it were only bullies or putin and I could make it out to be a foreign aggressor language to me, but it's the fabric of my family and I'll never not love it in my mum's voice or in my grandma's letters. there's no closer language for me.

maybe ill switch at a time when it feels different, less high-stakes (especially because my family and non-family aunties and uncles to me — who are generally russian speakers — keep fucking dying lately). I recognise this is a me problem to therapise away. for now it just feels like a sad truth that i won't feel fully comfortable in UA until this gets resolved inside, because i dont want to stop speaking russian to start speaking ukrainian, but that's kinda how it shakes out, innit, if everyone (except me who is broken) discovers an innate Ukrainian Desire to switch to ukrainian.

I'll never be a truly native speaker in my home country again. that's a thought

[pureamericanism]

Addressing controversial topics with subtlety and nuance without resorting to fence-sitting is a difficult thing to do, so I've thought for a long while about how I'd word this post so it would actually reach people. I'm fairly sure it'll fail, but I'm tired of mistaking my own confused silence for cowardice.

So, how about that culture war, huh? Pretty wild stuff, innit? For example, I had thought that there was a pretty vast space for productive compromise in between "men should be banned from wearing kilts on the grounds of sexual immorality" and "pushing pro-sterilization propaganda on children from the age of 4 onwards from every available uncensored platform is fucking awesome, actually," but it seems in the current state of things that's not the case. It's either one extreme or the other. Indeed, that dichotomy forms a depressingly thorough scissor statement for much of our terminally online class.

Including myself, of course. For my part, even though I regularly wear a kilt on formal occasions - including for my own wedding - I would much, much rather have to quietly hush up that fact, deleting all pictures thereof and having A Word with my friends and relations, than have my nieces, nephews, and my own (future) children subject to non-stop pro-sterilization propaganda from their teachers, media heroes, etc. And it isn't even close. In fact, the idea that someone might hold the opposite point of view seems to me as obviously, transparently abhorrent as the parenting practices of Walter Breen.

And yet, many of the people I follow here on tumblr seem to hold that opposite perspective. I won't call my mutuals 'friends' - I don't personally hold with having friends that I've never met in person - but you're all people who, if I heard you'd suddenly died, I'd feel really quite sad for a good long while. You post interesting, insightful things, sometimes things I already agree with, sometimes things I find novel and interesting, and sometimes things I heartily disagree with. Whichever way, though, they're things I find interesting and am glad to read. But there's some of you who seem to hold quite the opposite opinion as me on this scissor statement, who think 'banning men from wearing kilts' to be the greater of two evils here, and who don't seem to be afraid of proclaiming that fact.

I don't know what to make of this fact. I've always thought of rationality as the only arbiter of judgement that we can possibly rely on, and so I can think of various arguments in favor of my opinion, but I can't imagine they would actually persuade anyone who disagrees. There are a lot of moral, ethical, and political questions where I can imagine close, scientific reasoning would persuade me, but...well, as I said above, I view my opponents' position as being morally equivalent to advocating for Walter Breen's systematic sexual abuse and exploitation of his pre-pubescent children over the course of many years, and I can't imagine any possible argument that would persuade me that that's fine and dandy.

And yet, many of the people who seem to espouse this horrifying position seem otherwise to be sensitive, caring and intelligent people. What is one to make of this? Is morality really completely, entirely, 100% arbitrary? If it's this arbitrary, that there can be no common ground on such fundamental questions as this, then I find it hard to avoid agreeing with the poet that "if we knew what we are, we should do as Sir Arthur Jermyn did; and Arthur Jermyn soaked himself in oil and set fire to his clothing one night." I don't know.

I'll confess that my secret hope in writing this is that one of my mutuals who falls on the other side of this scissor statement from me will read my framing of the issue - "massive, government-sponsored pro-child-sterilization propaganda" - and come to the slow, belated realization that they've been wrong the whole time. But, realistically, I don't have much hope that'll happen. After all, I've seen the other side frame the debate in equally apocalyptic terms - "trans genocide!," an' a' tha' - for years, and it's failed to move me even the slightest amount. Frankly, I'll be surprised if any of the people I'd be happiest to persuade have even read this far. Reading an effortpost can take a lot of effort, after all, and most especially when it disagrees with you.

Still, I would like to extend a hand to all of you awful, reprehensible, and yet somehow morally decent people. As I said in the very first paragraph, even though I find your moral priors horrible beyond measure in ways that shake my belief in the very idea of a common morality to the core, I still think there's a really vast space for compromise. Surely we can all agree that it's perfectly fine for men to wear dresses and eyeliner, and for women to drive motorcycles and chew Copenhagen, and that it's also probably a bad idea for 3rd-grade teachers to be telling kids how fucking hip double mastectomies are? Right? Hell, I'll go further - I really don't care who uses what bathroom, tbh, as long as they're not doing something that is already considered awful for innumerable other, non-gender-related reasons. As long as you can agree that, actually, prescribing chemical castration drugs to otherwise healthy 10 year olds is not the sort of thing that should be considered consistent with the rest of our medical ethics.

Here, I've even prepared a light-hearted cartoon about my attempt to find common ground and compromise in the broad space in between our two positions:

If it seems pessimistic about the likelihood of genuine long-term peace and compromise over this or any other culture war issue, well. That's because I am.