#this could've been twice as long btw

[khaotunq]

gif request | Anonymous asked: Can you please make a FirstKhaotung best kisses gifset?

[the-acid-pear-art]

Save a cowboy, ride a huge fucking sausage today 🏜️

(i will hopefully get around to making more Peppi pin ups in the future-)

[pearlywritings]

A slip of the tongue

synopsis: as smart as Alhaitham is, sometimes he blurts out things without thinking twice. It's good, however, that your husband knows when an apology is due, even though it doesn't mean you (and your friend) won't come up with something to pay him back with~

pairing and characters: Alhaitham x fem!reader

tw: established relationship (marriage), little hurt/instant comfort, a bit suggestive, Kaveh is lowkey couple's marriage counselor

word count: 3.7k+ words

a/n: wow, finally releasing this one out of the basement!

Here is the second part btw

Your cheek starts hurting from how long the knuckles of your fist have been digging into it. Fingertips drum on your knee, as legs stay crossed and stare fixed on the figure before you, sitting on the chair across the table and not taking the eyes off of the book pages. The most infuriating part of it? The figure is talking.

"...and so you should be prepared for Rajkumar's endless questions. He might not have any relation to Haravatat or languages at all, but he has a bone to pick with me, so being my wife puts you in a position to attack. And you know how annoying it is to converse with an idiot."

Yeah, probably as much as hearing what you are already aware of. You love your husband, you truly do, but sometimes the urge to smack the back of his head and tell him to shut up is too tempting.

All you said was that you were a little nervous and mentioned that tomorrow is indeed one of the most important days for you. After all, you are going to defend your second thesis, one you spent years to complete and pass all sorts of verification, reviews and censorship. Having the Scribe as your husband had both its perks and drawbacks in the process - he could easily push your work forward to the necessary people in charge of all the mentioned above stages of approbation, but then the fact he was your spouse put a label on you for those who were aware, and it said “Needs to be examined more thoroughly”. Though come to think of it, it’s pretty illogical.

Fortunately you never had troubles with that - after all your brain was in place, and both topics of your first and now current papers were innovative. Moreso, many of your Haravatat professors agree on your academic success and some of them expressed their hope to see you in the role of their colleague in the future.

But it’s for the future. First you need to become the Dastur, and for that you need to defend your thesis in the present. You have absolutely everything ready, no one knows your topic better than you are (maybe only Alhaitham can come close, since he read and reread it multiple times, helping with editing and providing impartial perspective), and years at the Akademyia taught you how to withstand the piercing eyes and prickling words of the jury. You will be fine.

Or you thought so, before just one phrase of yours started this whole exchange that is now happening in your kitchen.

“...and remember the part in the third chapter we discussed with you. This will be the one they’ll claw at, since it’s a turning point in a whole theory and I heard some of them already criticizing it,” the male hums, turning another page, eyes scanning the words written on a yellowed from time piece of paper. This seems the last comment of his, as he falls silent, reaching for the cup of coffee you’ve made him - in the process of which you were short-sighted to voice your concern.

When a minute passes and you do not answer anyhow to any of the valuable advice he’s just given you, Alhaitham lowers his book and stares at you. You keep drumming your fingers on your knee, eyes boring into him and almost unblinking, and it’s not hard for such an observant man to notice a barely-veiled displeasure in your tired eyes and a scowl.

"You know you could've just said you are worried about tomorrow too, and leave it at that?"

Alhaitham blinks, hand frozen in the middle of lowering the mug back on the table. He is holding your gaze and you can practically see the thoughts running through his mind, he is clearly contemplating how to answer your bold statement.

“Why would I be worried?” He finally answers with a question on your own, putting the mug on the flat surface. “It’s just a thesis defense, and if you get rid of your nervousness you’ll see that you already have the Dastur title in your pocket. Tomorrow is just a formality for you.”

“So you are not coming to watch me tomorrow?” Your scowl and frown deepens, fingers stopping abusing your knee and curling in a fist instead. Your husband sighs, marking the page with a bookmark you’ve made for him and closing the volume he’s been on for the past week. Then his captivating eyes are back on you.

“Scribe isn’t required to attend. Besides-”

“Yeah, yeah, you know my work enough to not hear anything new in my presentation,” you interrupt him and he can clearly hear rising anger in your voice that wasn’t there before. It actually manages to shut him up. “As my husband, as my support, are you going to come?”

The man feels a twinge of guilt in his heart. He always prided himself of his intelligence and attentiveness, yet just now he failed to assume what exactly you expected of his presence. Of course he’d want to give you a peace of mind by being there, but it seems he is too used to uttering the same phrase every single time someone asks him to come, that it was out faster than he had a moment to think it over properly.

He sees a bit too late how your face drops when he doesn’t give you an answer immediately - it looks like his pause appeared to be hesitance to you. He slightly panics when you lower your gaze and move to uncross your legs to stand up, having an almost iron grip on the back of the chair.

“Wait- Dear, I will come,” at that your eyes flicker at him, with doubt on display in your beautiful orbs. “I promise, I’ll be there.”

“I thought you didn’t like to be around idiots the whole day,” you huff, crossing your arms, reminding him of how unflattering his words towards some of his colleagues were. You do not mean to act childish, but tomorrow is really important to you, and obviously you’d want to have your husband be there to share it with you.

Alhaitham puts the book aside and stands up as well, rounding the table and coming closer to you. His fingers deftly touch your elbow, and you will yourself not to jerk it, some annoyance still bubbling in your system.

“That is correct. However, you are not one of them,” he murmurs, caressing your arm. You huff again, but this time your posture is more relaxed. “Besides, all you need is to be confident, and if my presence can assure you that, then I’ll be more than happy to be there for you.”

You give him a long stare. Your drilling eyes to his bewitching ones, searching for the truth in the greenish depths, while he stands still, waiting patiently, expecting your verdict silently. It’s as your frown softens, he knows you’ve found what you’ve been looking for in this kind of staring contest.

“Oh Archons, Alhaitham…” You shake your head with a small smile and the man feels relief washing over him. You are no longer mad at him. At least, it seems so. That is definitely good. “We’ve been married for years and it still surprises me how you can be a jerk - affectionately - one moment, and a completely sweet guy another.”

“Maybe just as quick you are switching from fuming to forgiving,” his palms are warm as they slide up your arms, featherly resting on your shoulders. Your smile widens a little and you meet him in the middle when he leans to press his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, yeah… But to your credit you were quick to fix your attitude, and as long as it’s sincere, I am grateful.”

“It is sincere,” he says with emphasis. “You know I am not the one to change my mind lightly.

Or rather realizing when an apology is due.

You hum, content with his answer. Yet, a mischievous glint finds its place in your eyes.

“Even though you are forgiven, I am still complaining to Kaveh about the mean and heartless husband of mine.”

“Of course you are,” he rolls his eyes, but you know it’s playful. He knows it too, and the shift in the mood is apparent, and he is thankful for its course to the positive destination. “I guess it’s deserved.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t be glaring at you murderously. Much.”

Alhaitham only sighs at your giggles. He could care less of what the blond architect would say about him, so he’ll survive some annoyed buzzing from the senior, and if the little exchange which is about to occur makes you happy - he doesn’t mind. Plus it will be good for you to take your mind off of tomorrow.

“I’ll trust you on that,” he finally says, slowly leaning back. You smile, patting the back of his hand still resting on your shoulder in reassurance. With a promise to collect you from your ‘girlish talk’ (you swat his shoulder at that) in a couple of hours, your husband helps you to make a new pot of tea. It’s quite ironic that this one is gonna be emptied while he’s the main focus of the conversation.

Minutes later, when you leave the kitchen with a tray, Alhaitham can faintly hear the knocks on the other end of the house, and the door opening not a minute later, the voice of the man you two have been housing for months coming clear and concerned. Kaveh remained your friend even when he and Alhaitham got in a horrible fight over their beliefs and you were partially the reason why the Haravatat graduate was convinced to let the blonde stay. Though loud, flamboyant and snarky, there is some perks of having him around - even if the architect always complains how he didn’t sign up to be a marriage counselor, he’s never let you or your husband be in a conflict for long (fortunately it happened really rarely), being your shoulder to tear up on or begrudgingly becoming an ear to be talked of by the other man and the foot that would kick Alhaitham into action or the hand that would gently nudge you in the right direction.

Or, just like tonight, simply be ‘your girl’ to chat with.

Alhaitham, as promised, lets you be for a couple of hours, meanwhile busying himself with his book. To outsiders this scene may appear weird and paint the Scribe in an awful light as a husband - but it is just like that with this man. And the strange dynamic the three of you have while staying under one roof: a wife, a husband and their… loquacious canary-like-therapist.

Only when it’s close to the time you usually go to sleep, does he also end up before the door of Kaveh’s temporary room, and firmly knocks three times.

“What?” Unsurprisingly it's the blonde’s voice, and by the tone of it he is pissed. The ash-haired male chooses to ignore him.

“Darling, let’s go to bed,” he calls for you softly. 

Alhaitham hears shuffling and muffled curses the architect surely prepared for him and some short, but incomprehensible conversation happening between you two. Not a moment later though, the door opens revealing your face, and your husband can’t help but feel extra weight lifted off his shoulders. No line reappeared between your eyebrows, no pout and no distress is written on your face. Quite the contrary, when your eyes meet, you give him the same warm smile you graced him with back in the kitchen.

“Sure, let’s go. It’s quite late already and we need to wake up early tomorrow,” you hum, exiting the room. Through the gap Alhaitham spots Kaveh sitting over some blueprints with two mugs on the table and a chair placed on the opposite side of the fine piece of furniture. When the architect lifts his eyes to glare at him, the Scribe slams the door closed. To your bedroom you returned with arms linked.

The silence of your shared space is comforting and is only disturbed by your light steps and rustle of changed clothes. The Scribe glances at you every two minutes, still a tiny bit concerned about that animatic exchange you had back in the kitchen.

“You know I will come, right?” The man suddenly asks you, as you’re fluffing the pillows. Your eyes slightly widen for a brief moment, so quickly that he almost misses it, but then they soften again as you chuckle.

“Yes, I know, dear. Sorry I reacted the way I did initially. It seems I really was pent up after all.”

“I could tell. You looked like you could bite my head o- ow!” He gasps when you throw your pillow into his face, which he catches at the last second.

“Oh, shut it, or I might get mad again,” but there is no anger in your eyes, only hardly veiled mischief. He drops your weapon of choice back onto bed and raises his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay, point taken. Any way I can make it up to you?”

At that your eyes strangely glint, and the scholar can’t place his finger on what exactly feels off about it. But it does.

“Actually you can. I’d like you to wake me up when you do, and let me use the shower first.”

And that’s it? Well, odd, but not disturbingly odd. Surely you wouldn’t go as far as to play some pranks on him by mixing something in his shampoo - you are way too intelligent for that. Also not one for revenge. 

“Of course. I will wake you when I do so myself, and let you use the bathroom first.”

Even if the mornings are not Alhaitham’s forte, he still opens his eyes disgustingly early, so sleeping for a bit more while you are at your morning routine sounds nice. Not as nice as doing it with you in his arms, but still quite nice.

“Thank you, dear. Now, if you are going to read-”

“Not tonight. You need sleep,” to that you smile warmly, crawling under the blankets, which he is quick to follow. You do not deny his embrace, and willingly scoot closer, extending an arm to put around his waist, as he does the same. Nor you turn away from a kiss he places on your forehead, pecking his chin in response.

“Good night, Alhaitham.”

“Good night, Y/n.”

True to his word, your husband pulls you out of the dreamland just moments later after exiting it himself. Cerulean eyes drink in your sleepy face contorting in displeasure, arms reaching over your head, and body arching in a morning stretch. He can’t help himself, leaning close and pressing a kiss just above the hem of your chemise, relishing the feeling of your heart thumping against his lips. You yawn, reaching a hand into his hair, but your breath hitches, when his mouth is suddenly on your throat, peppering it with soft pecks.

“Mmm… If you are trying to make up for yesterday you are a bit late,” your groggy voice is so adorable to the man. With you he tends to forget how to rationalize things. Yesterday was one of the times when his ‘Alhaitham for anyone else but his wife’ slipped into his interaction with you, the behavior he’s been trying for years to suppress when it comes to you. Now he knows he should’ve acted differently, and regrets his unique way of trying to give you reassurance. If only he-

“Are you overthinking again?” 

Your question makes him emerge back to reality. Eyes meet, and his heart skips a beat when you smile at him. Archons, you are beautiful.

“You know I am joking? Yesterday was yesterday, and you are already making it up to me, right?”

Words can’t describe how much he loves you, and at this moment he feels like he’ll never be able to express it fully.

“Right. Shower is all yours. Also,” he leans in again, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “good morning.”

Your smile gets wider and you wrap your arms around his frame to kiss his cheek.

“Morning, Haitham.”

With you gone to the shower, the man buries himself in your pillow, inhaling the lingering scent. Sometimes he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. Your husband is intelligent enough to evaluate his own deeds and behavior, so he knows he is far from perfect to be someone’s partner. Yet, here you are, loving and accepting all his flaws - not without some complaint, but you are trying.

He might come off as arrogant to some people, but in arguments with you, he can tell when it’s his fault and not blame you for giving him a cold shoulder and requesting some space. He might look like he doesn’t care, but he cares for you, for your well-being, for your likes and dislikes, for your opinion, carefully storing all this valuable information in his brain, to show how much you mean to him. He is aware he has a long road ahead of him to get rid of all of his annoying conversing habits, but he is willing to keep trying for you. He seems to not show gratitude to anyone, but he is so grateful that you remain by his side, going as far as telling him you are proud to be his wife.

He wants you to know that it’s mutual.

That being said, Alhaitham is a smart man, but when he himself exits the bathroom after his shower time, his brain is reduced to just one thought.

You are absolutely gorgeous.

His gaze is chained to your pretty fingers, rolling the long, dark green stocking up your left leg. His throat bobs, when the elastic hem of it snaps against your skin, squeezing the flesh of your thigh a little. Then you take the second one, elegantly lifting the other leg and repeating the taunting process, but this time he is here to watch it from the beginning to the very end.

You happily hum, observing your work, and, satisfied, get on your feet, adjusting the band of your panties a little. Archons, you are wearing a matching set of the richest green shade. Lace leaves little to imagination, as his eyes flicker up to your chest, noting the pretty, natural swell of it and the outline of your nipples, and then down, as you turn around and bend to grab the shirt from the bed, demonstrating to him your ass and thighs.

His hand almost reaches out to touch you, to get a hold of the round globe, to sink his lithe fingers in your flesh. After all, your husband is not above earthly pleasures.

But your voice snaps him out of it.

"My love, if you keep standing like this in the middle of the room with just a towel on and no intention to dress, you might be late for breakfast," you chide him not even turning around and throw on the shirt, hiding the bra and some of the lower half, yet still leaving a bit of an appetizing view for an eye.

Alhaitham wills himself to tear the almost burning gaze away from you and redirect it to his own clothes, already prepared and neatly hanging on a chair. You mischievously smile as he takes a step to move past your figure. He's kept alarmingly silent and you are dying to know what reaction he has for your little plan. 

The man has just a second to react when you abruptly turn around and stumble into him. Big palms instantly grab your hips to steady you against his chest, and the heart quickens at the feeling of soft lace under his fingertips, peeking from beneath the hem of the shirt he accidentally crumpled in the process. Your hands on his chest are so warm, put out just in time to catch yourself, and Alhaitham finds himself thinking of how would've it felt if your chests collided - maybe the thin material of the only layer of clothes you have on paired with some flimsy bra would not make any difference from direct skin to skin contact?

"Ah, sorry, 'haithy," you sheepishly smile up at him, eyes soft and staring innocently, "Are you alright? I haven't heard you speak ever since you left for the shower…"

Archons, please, don't let his voice betray him.

"I'm," he quickly clears his throat, "alright. Was just about to start dressing."

You hum, pushing onto his pectorals to move away and continue with your own - though slightly changed - routine, but strong fingers flex, keeping you in place by the sheer hold on your hips. You look at him inquiringly, ignoring how the very tips of his thumbs just barely slip under the thin material of your panties to caress your hip bones. It's almost an absentminded action.

"What's with this lingerie?" He finally drops the question swirling on his tongue ever since he first laid his eyes on the tantalizing sight. It's hard to hold back a smirk - you admit you were a bit doubtful if it'd actually grab your husband's attention. Who knew the stoic man was into it…

"Oh, this?" Nonchalantly you tug on the collar of your shirt and Alhaitham sharply inhales upon catching a glimpse of your barely covered breast again. "Do not worry, habibi, it is not to seduce you," he is not that sure about it. 

Taking his hands in yours, you pry them off of your body and put them back to his sides, gracing his waist just above the towel with your touch. He shivers.

"I know it's different from what I usually wear, especially to work," you admit, turning around again, to grab the robes of the Akademyia's scholar. "But I really-really loved this one I purchased a couple of weeks ago on that outing with the girls. I feel so beautiful in it," fuck, you are. "And today is a special day. Want to have some confidence, you know?"

And as the rest of your body disappears under the long article of clothing, Alhaitham is finally aware of what this whole thing is about.

It's going to be an agonizingly endless day, where the only thing he can do is watch.

[luveline]

whenever youre free!! can you please write a spencer x reader where we meet spencer during an early season where he’s still cute and awkward maybe we date too but something happens and we don’t see him for a long time only to meet him again when he’s older and hotter (post prison) and there’s still crazy tension after all those years. in love with your writing btw!!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok :D ♡ 1.2k

cw vaguely suggestive theme

Looking at Spencer, you could almost think you were fresh out of college again, unsure of yourself and in need of a friend. 

He'd been much more than a friend. It's why you're here. 

The cake might have been a bad idea. You hold it between two hands, the subtle smell of chocolate rising from the box's ill-fitting lid. Your breath catches, words coming out wonky, "Hey. Spencer?" 

He looks up from his book, startled at being found, you think. "Y/N?" 

He looks the same. 

Obviously, he's older. He has facial hair and his curls are styled rather than having been left to their own devices, but you feel as hopelessly enamoured with him as you had years ago, because he still smiles like a puppy dog.

You're twice as surprised as he is when he stands from his coffee table to hug you. The cake box wobbles in your hands as he squeezes you, swaying you from side to side, his laugh warm in your ear. 

"What are you doing back here?" he asks, diving backward to see your face. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again." 

"I still had JJ's number, you know, from when I wanted that address, and she texted me to say you'd been released, and I," —your voice curls tighter, are you talking too much?— "know you might not want to hear from me, but I was worried about you. You were my best friend." 

His smile flickers. You press the cake into his hands. 

"That's for you," you say. 

Spencer's wavering smile turns to the box. He sets it down on the table beside his coffee cup and tented book, removing the lid carefully. You remember suddenly how nice his hands are, and the tracing of his fingertips down your bare shoulders. Goosebumps erupt along the ghost of his touch. 

"Well done on not being a criminal," he reads, snorting. "Funny. Little too soon." 

You feel like your stomach's fallen out, but he drops the act with another laugh. 

"Oh, you're still a jerk," you say. "I'm glad something hasn't changed." 

"You think I've changed?" he asks. 

"You didn't get any taller, if that's what you're asking." 

Spencer's smile turns fond. It's the sweet, sticky smile he'd always give you before he'd tell you he loved you, or that you were the best best friend ever. Or that last night, when you followed him hand in hand down the long hallway to his bedroom. 

"I wasn't that much of a jerk, was I?" he asks. 

"No, you weren't." You hold your hands behind your back. "Could I join you? Just for a bit?" 

"You brought me a cake. I can't say no, can I? Of course you can sit down. I'll get you a coffee, okay?" 

He touches his hand to your arm as he passes. You sit down in the seat across from him, sick with what-if and should-have. What if I could've stayed? Maybe I should have done more. But when Spencer ignored the letters you sent him while he was incarcerated, you figured you'd done more than he wanted. The cake was a last ditch effort, spurred on by JJ's text that read, I think he'd be really happy to see you. 

Spencer puts a china cup down in front of you. You take a sip, muscle memory, and grin at him shyly as he slides into the seat across from you. "You remembered." 

"I remember everything." 

"Right. Your photographic memory." 

"Eidetic, and sure, but I wouldn't forget about you." He reads your shyness for what it is, worry you've overstepped. He's too perceptive to trick. "I think I tried, but… I have so many bad memories, I wanted the good ones to keep." 

You can't imagine the things he experienced in prison. JJ couldn't tell you much. You knew from how you had to address his letters alone that he was sent to a general correctional facility in Mexico, rather than the protective custody he'd needed. He doesn't look terrible considering, but you've barely seen him since you had to leave. He's aged well. The only worry is his dark under eyes. 

"We had a good time," you say gently. "I knew you'd need that. That's why I sent you all those letters, you know? I wasn't trying to come back into your life, I know I don't deserve it after I left, but I couldn't stop thinking about you by yourself." 

You stare at his book. 

"How many letters did you send?" he asks. 

"I don't really remember." 

"I didn't get one." He grimaces. "I didn't get any from my mom, either. Think it was a coincidence?" 

Spencer's time in was kind of sick. He stabbed himself, made friends with criminals, played a lot of chess, and learned how to make tacos in a doritos bag. It was also arguably the loneliest and most degrading time of his life. 

One coffee becomes two, two becomes a third to go. You feel a hundred emotions but there's one that stands out the most as you drift around Pentagon City with him —wanting. You want him to be your best friend again, to rub your back and hold you when you're tired, to take you grocery shopping in his beat up P130. You want him to kiss you like he had, like he was searching for something, but he's changed so much that you don't know if your Spencer is still in there, under everything, or if he'd even want to.

"You live in the same apartment?" you ask. 

"Can you imagine how much it would cost me to move that many books? Paying the rent turns out cheaper," he says, the two of you walking in the grey street. "What about you? You didn't come all the way here to see me." 

"I actually did." You rub up the length of your upper arm, sheepish. "I did, Spencer." 

For a while, all you can hear is the plastic rustling of the bag held in his hand. 

"Thank you for writing to me. I didn't get to read them, but it makes a difference." 

You lift your head to meet his eyes. He holds your gaze, a charge behind his dark brown eyes. You used to think his irises and his pupils were one and the same, but you can see now that there are flecks of light in his irises. His hedging of thick lashes kiss in the corners as he slowly, slowly smiles. 

You glare at him. "Don't." 

"Don't what?" 

"You know what. You're doing that thing. Pretending you're not trying to make me nervous." 

"I'm not doing that. Flustered, but not nervous." Is he smirking?

"Flustered," you repeat, your smile stupidly big now, cheeks aching. "Yeah, right, Reid."

His pinky brushes yours. You don't have any proof that he's doing it purposefully, but he is. 

"Do you want to get something to eat? You can tell me what you were writing in your letters. I'd really, really like to know." His voice is threaded with a familiar timidity for the first time since you reunited. 

There you are, you think happily. "Sure. You buy me a sticky bun from our old place and I'll tell you all my written secrets." 

"Deal." 

[larothoughts]

qijiu thoughts: complicated codependence

after reading a few more shen jiu fics i figured maybe the diverging point when it comes to fan-interpretation is understanding how codependent qijiu is. like, it's not just qi-ge who won't let go of shen jiu, shen jiu 100% spitefully, unwillingly yet helplessly refuses to let go of qi-ge either. the obvious author answer to this is for sj to remove himself from qi-ge because of toxic codependence (see my rant on anti-qijiu pro-sj fics), except i don't think it's in-character for him to ever do so??

the man literally died twice because he couldn't let go of qi-ge until the very, very end. he'll never give up on him as easily as he does in fic, this man is a canonical stubborn asshole who can't let go of anything. that's his entire problem lol

(first time was obviously after lbh gave him xuan su's shards. sj, who had spent the entire time being tortured refusing to bend, cracks at the realization that qi-ge came this time and died. i forgot if him eating xuan su's shards is canon in the qijiu extras or if it's a fanon theory, but i 100% find this in-character of sj to do as a final f*** you to the universe.)

(second time was the qi deviation that caused shen yuan to take over his life. i'll go over this later, but i believe sqh, who transmigrated decades before, likely tried to nudge qijiu into reconciling and instead made it worse. so while in the og!pidw universe, sj never deviated hard enough to die; in this svsss universe, sqh trying to get sj to face his own heart demons literally caused him to die. oops. system got pretty mad because lbh MUST go into the abyss, and so had to scramble to find a sj replacement lol)

preface

much of this is my own interpretation of things btw. i haven't read the qijiu extras in a while so it's very possible some of these things don't follow canon. especially the whole cognitive dissonance part. i've always leaned towards the 'shen jiu is an unreliable, in-denial narrator of his own story, he can't admit anything to himself until he's literally at death's door' interpretation of sj's tsundereness, so that's 100% my own bias peeking through here.

how qing ding peak made everything worse

this a fanon theory i like that has merit given how long qijiu had problems: things would've been so much different if yue qi wasn't chosen by qing ding. like, literally any other peak, qijiu would've had 75% chance of having a happy ending. i feel like any peak with a halfway decent lord with basic empathy skills would have thought 'hmm yes, if we rescue the friend of this little prodigy we can ensure his loyalty to us for life' instead of 'let's dangle the chance of rescuing his friend as a way to get this kid to work as hard as he can until it's too late, then allow the failure to break him down completely so we can reshape him into the perfect successor.' though to be honest the former sect leader probably didn't expect yue qi to literally be broken down.

my thought is that the sect leader kept putting off the rescue over and over, hoping to drag things out until the inevitable happened. but yue qi, naturally wary of adults, panicked once he realized what his shizun was doing. he tried to pull xuan su without permission to force the leader into acknowledging his strength and letting him go... which then led to the entire soul-binding fiasco we see in canon. sure, the former sect leader could've lost his newest experiment, but throwing him into the caves had the bonus of making him late anyway. so a success all around everyone!

we can further theorize the character of the previous sect leader (and how his grooming of yue qi possibly led to his guilt complex and inability to communicate his honest feelings) but ultimately it was qing ding peak's teachings itself that led to yqy's inability to reconcile with sj. because qing ding is the diplomat's peak. the politics peak. the peak where people often cannot say exactly what they mean, must never overtly show favor to anyone, must control every single thing they do or say else the political fallout ruins their sect's reputation.

so it really didn't help that their reunion happened in the middle of sj committing pretty bad crimes like murdering and looting disciples. yue qi went immediately into political clean-up mode, sj misunderstood yue qi's silence as 'i will never tell you' instead of 'not now sj we need to bury these bodies in the bushes', and then later sj was so scornful yue qi's guilt-complex kicked in and he figured 'sj will never forgive me, obviously he doesn't want to hear excuses.' and as yue qi's political position grew, the less he could overtly support and protect shen jiu. the more careful he was of his words and actions, so far removed from the qi-ge sj once knew that sj can't help but lash out. by the time yqy was mentally well enough to talk about the lingxi cave fiasco (if ever), sj had already built up a protective wall of 'this qi-ge is an imposter, the real qi-ge would not have left me.' and yqy didn't know how to tell him the truth without sj's psyche collapsing in on itself. so... he just continued not to tell him.

in which qi-ge is alive but also dead, as declared by shen jiu

sj barely recognized qi-ge once they reunited. yue qi has always been the peacemaker amongst the rowdy slaves, sure, but he'd always been on sj's side. he told sj everything, things he never told the other slaves, and only really clammed up when they were facing beatings by adults in a true us-versus-them scenario. now, however, he's clamming up with shen jiu. he hates it, this intrinsically qi-ge thing that this fake qi-ge doesn't realize he's doing. more than the shiny clothes and well-fed appearance, this is what makes the chasm between them feel real. qi-ge never came back for him, because qi-ge was dead. cang qiong killed qi-ge and all that's left is this qi-ge puppet going through motions of caring for sj it obviously doesn't understand.

(this is easier for him to accept, because if yue qi wasn't mentally dead than he really did willingly abandon shen jiu in the dirt, and accepting that would make shen jiu lose his mind.)

now what to do when qi-ge is dead and he doesn't need sj to protect him anymore? logically, sj should've stayed long enough to fix his cultivation, save up funds, and then leave to become a rogue cultivator before his past had the chance to catch up to him. but sj is not logical. he's spiteful and angry and contrary. he claws his way up the disciple hierarchy on qing jing and spits in the face of yue qi's awkward overtures. he hates the other qing jing disciples, his own shizun, lqg and a bunch of the other head disciples; in fact, he hates cang qiong as a whole because they were the ones that took qi-ge away from him. but at the end of the day, a dead qi-ge puppet is still kind of qi-ge and even if qi-ge threw sj away that didn't mean the reverse was true. sj will not give even a dead puppet qi-ge up; he belongs to him whether he likes it or not (/spitefully).

so as it becomes clearer and clearer that yue qi will indeed become the next sect leader, sj begrudgingly finds himself stuck in cang qiong. one would think things would get better after the former peak lords ascend, since that meant the evil brainwashing sect leader and the resentful qiu-naming qing jing peak lord would've finally fucked off. but no, things actually get worse.

because now that the former sect leader isn't actively sabotaging qijiu's relationship (sure, he didn't mean to break yue qi's mind that bad, but even the worst broken eggs can be turned into a decent obedient successor, except shen jiu's continued existence is threatening to undo all his hard work) yue qi is more able to try and make overt amends. the problem is, by acting more like the real qi-ge, he's threatening sj's mental defense of 'qi-ge is dead, this qi-ge is a fake.'

when cognitive dissonance gives you qi deviations

the more qi-ge acts like he's honestly sorry, the more shen jiu must accept that qi-ge isn't dead. that he either chose to leave sj behind (devastating given sj's abandonment issues) or was forced to leave sj behind and refused to tell him why (more abandonment issues; does he not trust sj anymore??) worse for peak morale, the more overtly sj rejects yqy, the more annoyed the other peak lords get. doesn't sj know how bad it looks for their sect, to have their top two lords fighting like this?? why is yqy not shutting it down, isn't he a politician?

well yes, but as sect leader he now has the freedom to pick and choose when to put his politicking hat on. lqg follows sqq to a brothel and causes a ruckus in the middle of the street? scold sqq for being so overt, because they both know the best way into the brothel is through the back via code word! they learned how to sneak into brothels as street kids ages ago and sqq could have totally done so discreetly! argue with lqg but refuse to explain himself? sqq please, he can't take your side for no reason, especially in front of all these peak lords who already knows he favors you!!

and because shen jiu is facing the cognitive dissonance of qi-ge's... qi-ge-ness, he sets up tests rigged to fail no matter how yqy responds. this way he is always right! if yqy sides with sj, sj's annoyed because he's clearly trying to placate him like a child. if yqy sides against sj, he's obviously choosing to abandon sj again!!

yqy is fully aware of the trap because yqy is a trained politician capable of reading social cues (and sj hasn't changed all that much from when they were kids, he still has that same spiteful edge to him yqy is so fond of). he intentionally falls for them because (1) he deserves to be hated by sj and (2) being hated by sj keeps him from lashing out too much at the other peak lords. yqy is very used to sj's temper tantrums, it's when he lashes out at other people that things become unmanageable.

(during the latter half of their rule over cang qiong, i feel that yqy learned to stop actively chasing reconciliation. he came around for tea and present-giving, kept things civil, and still let sj get away with all kinds of terrible things. he fell for all of sj's traps with his eyes wide open and it infuriates sj, everything about this drives him mad. he doesn't want this soft, unspoken affection, because this was how qi-ge used to handle sj's tsundereness back when they were on the streets. it's another sign that qi-ge is still qi-ge, and this fact brings sj both selfish comfort and undeniable agony.)

it's an awkward balancing act that continues to sour sj's reputation with the other peak lords, but it's mostly manageable until sqh sticks his nose into their business and pushes sj over the edge.

how transmigrators ruin everything

"maybe yqy did something impulsive, did you think of that? why can't you forgive him, he tried so hard? aren't you tired of being angry all the time?" bitch no, sj has been keeping the worst of the qi deviations away for years by performing mental gymnastics around his walls of denial stOP KNOCKING THEM DOWN. Even worse, lbh arrives on the peak and shen jiu hates him. not just because he's got all the potential shen jiu had stolen away from him, but he's so glad to be here. he's making his mother proud. all while shen jiu was dragged here essentially against his will, trapped himself in this bamboo prison out of spite, and then realized the dead thing he's been looking after for decades isn't dead after all. that qi-ge actually did, for realsies, leave him at the qius. that all these overtures, the silent acceptance of his faults, everything could just be out of guilt (qi-ge is ashamed of him) and not out of a ghost reenacting its former lingering affection (the real qi-ge would've still loved him.)

the dissonance, abandonment issues, frustration and everything culminates in a devastating qi deviation. ironically, now that yqy's rule is mostly secure and sj's reputation has soured enough to start negatively affecting the sect, sj finally feels safe enough to let go. in this moment of emotional clarity, sj finally releases qi-ge from his grasp and decides to die.

that was not supposed to happen.

qi-ge's no good, very bad sacrifice

in another universe where og!sqh was too busy plotting to betray cang qiong mountain, the frosty and emotionally charged stand-off between yqy and sj continues for years. then, lqg dies. i'm torn between yqy believing sj killed lqg or not. either way, i don't think he'd be 'disappointed' in sj as portrayed in some fics. i also don't think it would infuriate sj that yqy thinks he's capable of killing lqg, because if anyone knows how much of a murder kitten shen jiu is, it's yqy. maybe he's offended yqy thinks him dumb enough to kill him in such a sloppy way. maybe he's even more offended that this turns the other peak lords against him and yqy just lets it happen.

or maybe (through my qijiu-tinted glasses) it pisses him off that yqy does tell the peak lords that they should all stand together, and the other peak lords ignore him and hate sj anyway. they're disrespecting yqy because they think he is compromised, and sj worked too goddamn hard to solidify yqy's position to have it undone by a murder he didn't even do.

(ironically, if lqg was alive he'd tell the other peak lords to f*** off for disobeying yqy. lqg's canon respect for yqy is something i feel needs more acknowledgement, likely because i feel half the reason they don't get along is because of sj's utter disrespect of their sect leader. who cares if sj is a street rat or the son of a wealthy family, no one disrespects yue-shixiong!)

now the story of sj's road to becoming lbh's plaything is a well-worn track that everyone knows. i do subscribe to the idea that sj took one look at huan hua's eagerness, lbh's vendetta, and yqy's recklessness and made the same decision he did in the svsss verse: he'd rather qi-ge be free (happy) than dead. this is a battle he cannot win, and he'll be damned if he lets lbh drag cang qiong down with him. when yqy promises him he'll save him from the water prison, sj spits in his face and tells him for the final time that xiao jiu and qi-ge are both dead. he let sj go decades ago, and now sj is letting qi-ge go in return.

sj faces the torture with the tenacious spirit of someone who'd withstood worse torture for years. in fact, he's a bit impressed by lbh taking revenge on him the same way sj took revenge on qiu jianluo. either way, even with more than 50% of his body missing, sj faces his fate in utter defiance. and then lbh shows up with xuan su.

the reveal of qi-ge's failed rescue and demise was devastating for a lot of reasons. most obviously, sj's sacrifice to keep cang qiong safe from the fallout was a failure. everything he'd done and sacrificed to keep qi-ge safe, all the scorn he'd borne as the hated qing jing peak lord was thrown away because qi-ge wanted to be a moron.

the other reason why sj broke was because qi-ge did come for him. he simply failed. and the tiny part of him that always suspected qi-ge was still qi-ge now has confirmation that all those years ago, qi-ge likely did the same. he came for him at the qius, but he failed. the only difference now is lbh's willingness to tell him the truth vs. yqy's decades-long silence. the only difference now is that yqy is actually, physically dead.

sj has been living on borrowed time ever since he looked the new yqy (fake qi-ge) in the eyes and allowed himself to be brought to cang qiong mountain. everything he did was to elevate himself into a position where no one could hurt him (and qi-ge) anymore, the same way he'd acted back when they were on the streets. now that he was in this state and qi-ge was dead, his time was clearly up. and sj refuses to let lbh have the last laugh. as much as he respected lbh for his ruthlessness, it's not enough to stave off sj's spite. he didn't let qjl control him in the end, and he won't let lbh do so either.

final thoughts

some last, disorganized thoughts on qijiu's relationship

rather than yqy telling sj what happened, i think showing him the scars all over his body would be much more impactful. sj knows how worthless words can be; he's likely prefer being able to touch each scar and check the meridians for himself. yqy doesn't need to say a word, his entire body is a testament to the torture he'd endured.

ironically, sj fixing up cang qiong as a tactician and his personal refusal to put himself in weak situations made yqy incapable of showing his care through action. all of his crises were political/reputation-based/etc. all things qing ding's teachings guaranteed yqy to fail all his speech-checks. and yqy is definitely not the type of person to engineer a false crisis just to swoop in to save sj... not because of any moral reasons, but because risking sj in any way would be absolutely unacceptable. in yqy's world, it's sj > the sect > good morals. he does have good morals, yes, but he's also pragmatic and self-aware enough to know when to put the things he cares about first.

there was a theory i read before about yqy and sj's trauma responses being to shut down and say nothing in the face of accusations, and i agree with this. saying nothing often netted less punishment than 'making excuses.' even without this coping mechanism, the mental trauma of having his mind and body broken could've easily stopped yqy from being able to even speak around the topic for years. if he doesn't talk about it and no one sees his scars, he can pretend it never happened. sj's scorn of him is forever a sign that it did happen, but that's fine, he's always made exceptions for shen jiu.

i don't really know where the uncomfortably-creepy-no-boundaries yqy towards sy came from? in the original novel sy clearly like yqy and views him in a positive, big-brother-shape light. even towards the end of the novel when yqy confesses, sy feels more guilty for being an imposter than angry that yqy failed sj. yqy even steps aside for lbh thinking 'well, at least sqq is happy now' because that's what he wanted for sj for so, so long. for him to be happy, even if that meant forgetting qi-ge.

(the no-boundaries thing is something i disagree with in general, because i think yqy's political and social training would make that very unlikely. he doesn't call sqq xiao-jiu as often as he does in fics, i think he did so in canon because he was delirious and exhausted post-drawing-xuan-su. i figured qijiu's latter years cooled off a bit as yqy realized direct overtures weren't working and went the coaxing-stray-cat route to everyone else's befuddlement.)

does qi-ge know sy is not sj? i can go either way with this. the theory that he does know but he's repressing it out of his own mental wellbeing is intriguing; but so is him assuming sj losing his memories means sy is a different person. which means he's always been happier without qi-ge. either way, i do believe yqy no longer views sqq-y the same as sqq-j. after the first few years post-qi-deviation, i think yqy is emotionally mature enough to realize sy is here to stay and that the sj he once knew (either because of his lost memories or whole-soul transplantation) is gone.

i am a qijiu shipper, but i do also like platonic qijiu. my only prerequisite for any other-ship-jiu fic is some kind of qijiu reconciliation. i honestly don't think either of them would have good romantic relationships unless they fix their own relationship first. qi-ge can't marry someone, that would remove sj from being the most important person on qi-ge's list. despite scorning him, sj being number one is one of the only things holding sj together throughout their divorce era. sj cannot marry anyone because that would give qi-ge the false impression that sj is happy and qi-ge is now free. and qi-ge is not allowed to be free. he will belong to sj for as long as sj wants and nothing is allowed to interfere with that impression. lol both of these are sj-based, but sj's always been the dominant party in this relationship. whether or not qi-ge is jealous of sj's new lover is irrelevant; as long as sj is happy, the og!sj-simp qi-ge is also happy.

i have too many qijiu thoughts and not enough time to write a fic about them, alas. i find their relationship fascinating and very integral to their personalities no matter the au or ship.

[makriiii]

Caught Ⅲ (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 3.1k

Authors notes: Sorry for the slow uploads. Btw, when I copy-paste this from my notes app, tumblr double spaces my paragraphs and I'm too lazy to change it. 😭

Warnings: 18+, angst, & cursing.

Pt1! Or pt4

Wattpad or Ao3

♡

Caught Ⅲ

The land around you briskly faced a blanket of darkness as the sun had just set, the colors had kept you busy for just a stint, longing for them as they faded into deep shades of gray and blue.

People were now rekindling their fires from the night previous, preparing for dinner, a preparation you didn't need to worry yourself with, as much as you wished you did.

Keiran was across from you, and despite being part of your gang, you hadn't exchanged many words. He never did seem too fond of the gang.

Neither of you conversed, not only due to the fact that he tried desperately to distance himself from being an O'Driscoll, but because everyone in camp would also be part of the conversation.

With Keiran ignoring you, and Dutch's gang shunning you, you may as well have been the naughty kid who sat in the corner with a dunce cap on.

The only thing that kept your sanity was finding out that, Arthur, so you came to know, had taken your horse with him that day.

With nothing to do but sit defeated, you zoned out, staring at your horse. The thoughts of escaping with her danced around in your head.

Revenge didn't even cross your mind, in fact, at this point you were willing to let it all go, so long as you had your horse.

Rival gang members came and went, gawking at both of you like zoo animals. At one point, a lady who seemed personally victimized by Keiran had come and dropped food on him.

You were slightly taken aback by her actions, you were hoping it wasn't just for the fact he's an O'Driscoll, otherwise you felt you'd be next.

It was clear you weren't welcome despite being forced to stay and by all means you were happy to leave if they'd allow it. You'd even take Keiran along as well, but they had no such plans.

Out of all the people who roamed before you, your eyes met with one, much to your despair.

You had had enough of the man over these past days when he would check on you, once or twice each day, occasionally giving you water but only teasing you with food.

He kept to asking you and Keiran both, where on earth Colm was, and on that earth, you couldn't give him the darndest of answers.

Each time threatening to rid of both of you right here and there every time you gave him the same answer.

He was no man to play games with, but you still played them. He threatened it but never did actually point the barrel of his gun at you again. You shivered as a small ache crept from your arm just thinking about it.

With the eye contact you regrettably made, Arthur finally decided he'd saunter over and have a friendly little chat with you.

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, your arms and shoulders hurting with every second you didn't stay still.

He seemed to have this look in his eye that you couldn't quite place.

"I reckon it's time to change that bandage of yours." He commented, half gesturing for your arm before looking down and reaching into his satchel.

You didn't want him to touch you, hell, you didn't even want that stinking man anywhere in your sights.

"No, please. I'd rather it get infected so god can take care of it instead." You dismissed, kicking out your leg in an attempt to wave him off since you couldn't use your arm to do so.

He snickered as he crouched down beside you, moving for his knife, and to your surprise, he started cutting at the ropes that kept you tethered to the tree.

"That'd be a good few weeks of worse pain before it finally took you, pain I can just save you from now."

"There's a lot you could've saved me from, not being a poor aim on the day you shot me would've been it." Jeering at him with sass.

Any relief you would have felt from the breakage of your bounds was cut short as you hissed out a gasp of pain.

His large, calloused hand wrapped and dug in just above your wound.

Your instinctual reaction had your right hand balled into a fist and swinging around into a hook that landed sweetly on the side of his face before you could do anything about it, or so that's what you claimed.

It caught him off-guard, taking him a second to react, by which he squeezed your arm even harder and reached for your other wrist in a tight, abrasive grasp.

You cried out while he manhandled you. "Fuck- quit grabbin' me like that, you big brute!" You stirred under him, but he kept you still in an almost a perfect manner.

The whole commotion caught everyone's attention, their turned heads held looks of confusion and surprise.

"Im tryna help your ass, woman." He snarled, keeping you from jerking around. "Hold damn still before I save myself the trouble instead."

You looked away, mumbling a curse under your breath. By no means did you relax, but you stopped fidgeting, he cautiously let go. His eyes burned holes through you as he did.

Suddenly, he reached for your buttoned shirt, you flinched back in befuddled surprise.

"Just what the hell do you think this is?" You demanded, fully desiring to line up another fist to his face, if it wasn't for the control he had over you with clasping your arm.

"Your sleeve doesn't roll up that far. Didn't I tell you to hold still?"

You felt overwhelmed with rage, and worst yet, you couldn't do anything about it.

"Don't look at me like that, how else do you think I took care of this for you before?" He adds, leaving you in silence.

A man undoing your shirt wasn't the problem. The man doing it, was.

"I was hoping you had left me in the care of one of the more dignified ladies here."

"You wandered off so far from where we camped, you would've died before then." He counters, shaking his head.

"And I would have thanked you, if you left it at that." You stayed arguing, but slighted your head up, giving him easier access to your buttons.

His eyes flickered from your face and to your shirt for a moment at your small gesture.

"Left it at that? Nah, I couldn't let you get away with all that money." He takes a moment, unbuttoning your shirt half way, exposing most of your bra.

It was enough to get your arm out but not leave much to the imagination.

"I was hopin you'd know more than your buddy, yet, neither of you annoying shits seem to recall jack all." He nagged, giving you a stern look before returning his gaze to your arm.

You couldn't say much in return when you felt him pinch and prod at your arm, needles running through your body.

You groaned your hurt, though he didn't seem to care much.

"Don't punch me again, y/n. I ain't beyond hittin' a lady like you."

You gave him a dismissive, smug look, shrugging your shoulder through the aching and burning he inflicted on you.

"I'll just skip that part and put a bullet through your other arm instead," he halts his medical measures and grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks in a firm grip. "You understand me?"

You shook your head away from his grasp, a small, childlike and petty desire to jab at him grew inside you.

"You sure feel me up a lot for someone who hates O'Driscolls so much." Your lips curl upward into a mischievous smile.

He raises a brow, leaning away from you, scoffing in disbelief.

"I'd prefer much anything over you, O'Driscoll." He gripes, returning back to your wound, unraveling the old bandage.

"Yeah, I can see that, considering you have me almost half undressed." You did your utmost to keep from looking at your wound, instead keeping your eyes on Arthur's face. His eyes kept strictly at your arm, never faltering as he lazily slathered on some sort of ointment.

"You're full of yourself. I wouldn't be doin' this if I didn't need to." He shakes his head.

As he finished with the fresh bandage, his hands finally had stopped poking you, leaving your arm in peace and an onset of relief.

"You know, I was thinkin' bout feedin you tonight," his words brought you back to how starving you were.

"Can't say I'm feelin' so kind now." His hand found the side of his face, his fingers inspecting the welt you had inflicted on his cheek.

Your stomach found his words utterly strangling, but begging him was out of the question.

"Dead people can't tell you where Colm is."

"So, the answer comes to you if you're fed?" His eyebrow shoots up, sarcasm plastered all over his freshly punched face.

"I can give you my best guess if you feed me." You explained, irritation being the entire undertone of your statement.

"You think guesses are gonna get you fed? Huh, girl?"

"That, or I simply wont have enough energy to think much on Colm." You cajoled, your smirk slowly returned.

"Careful with that mouth of yours, it's gettin' real tiresome." He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Yours reached that point way long ago." You fired back, his face now full of frustration.

"Glad to hear you're not hungry, O'Driscoll." He griped, returning rope to your wrists.

You full well expected it, but having them back on so soon displeased you beyond words.

Once he tied you up good, he got back up without a word and promptly left back to camp, leaving you alone on your tree once more.

You leaned your head back, wondering just how much longer they'd leave you tied up before they acted on their word of killing you both.

Minutes passed as you felt your eyelids get heavy, you didn't want to sleep, not until at least everyone else, but being tired, starving and having been shot only a few days ago left you exhausted.

"Don't you fall asleep yet, y/n." That man's voice chimed. You grimaced at his return.

The front of him was shadowed in contrast to his backside, which faced the camps fire light. You couldn't quite see what he held as he made for you.

"Couldn't get enough of me, huh?" You teased with a straight face, irritation filling you once more.

"You would like if I couldn't, wouldn't you?" A shit eating grin spread across his face at his own comeback.

You scoffed in response, staring him up and down as he got closer and to your surprise - the smell of food wafted into your nose.

Your whole body jolted with excitement, though, you couldn't tell just why he decided on feeding you.

He unties your wound-free arm, but hesitates when handing you the bowl in his hand.

"What?" You ask, looking up at him, his large frame towering over you.

"Say please." He demands, an evil look on his face.

"You're crazy. Now hand it here."

You reach for it but he pulls it away.

"Just say please, O'Driscoll." He laughs, taking a step back to avoid your waving arm.

"Quite actin' a fool and just give it to me." Your voice tightened with anger, your hunger almost possessed you into fighting him for it.

"Didn't anyone teach you manners? Please aint that hard to say."

"It is when the man you're saying it to is the same one that shot you. Now-" You reach again, your hand finally collecting the soup filled bowl.

You glanced back up at him, almost in shock that he actually let you grab it.

"Alright, alright, but next time, I expect some manners, O'Driscoll." He grins, knowing this set you off.

Next time? Next time, really? Your face furrowed with disbelief. "I'm happy you're an optimistic man, Arthur, but next time'll be in your dreams."

"Don't get too cocksure, darlin'."

"You know, you look pretty good when your face has a big red mark on it from my fist." You commented, shuffling in bites as you spoke.

"Really? Well, I think you also looked pretty good tied up all these days." He countered, the smile he had on his face ever growing.

That smile, on that nasty man. You hated it.

"Leave me to finish my food in peace."

He hums in consideration. "As much as I'd like to, you aint tied back to the tree."

You glower at him, desiring to eat slower so you could spend more time to rest your rope burned wrists, but ridding yourself of his presence felt more important.

You stayed silent as you finished the rest of your food, which didn't take long, tossing the dish to his feet and laying back on the tree so he could re rope you.

"That's what I like to see from you, O'Driscoll." He nods with approval.

You ignore him, your pride hurt with every moment more you had to give into this man and his crook gang.

He ties you back up and returns to the heart of camp.

It wasnt long before you finally dozed off.

-

(Set after the scene when Keiran gets interrogated.)

You sat petrified, still as the tree behind you, gelding tongs. They pulled down his pants for it too, if Keiran hadn't spoken up, you feared you'd be subject to it as well.

Goosebumps had crept up your back just thinking about those searing hot metal peices anywhere near your barren skin.

Keiran had finally come up with something.

Six point cabin.

You recalled having been there a few times, but was Colm up there? Your guess was as good as Keirans unless he actually was sure of it.

Arthur finally released Keiran from the tree, pushing him to the direction of the horses, then he came to you.

"You get to join us too, O'Driscoll." A small sinister smile creeps on his face, cutting through your ropes. "You better hope he's not trickin' us."

"Either way, if I'm rid of you, it's fine with me." He finishes, pulling you to your feet, guiding you to his mount.

"I'll get the most joy out of that, I reckon." You affirmed, somewhat stumbling as he releases you.

"Whatever you say, princess." He chuckles, closely following you.

Arthur calls out to a John and Bill, telling them just what's about to happen.

Keiran and a man with a nasty scar on his face were mounting, if you had to assume, the name John seemed best to suit him.

The other - Bill who had to be the man that threatened to 'geld' Keiran, coincidentally the one who also ratted on you that not so faithful day.

As you reluctantly walked along, you passed your steed you so woefully desired to mount instead, your ticket out of here. But Arthur quickly dismissed the thought for you, pushing you to his horse instead.

You gave him a hard stare in return, frustrated with his shoving.

"We're gonna pay your buddies our respects." He announces, entirely unconcerned.

"They taking us to Colm?" Questions John, steering his horse away.

"That's what he says." Arthur attempted to lift you up but you wave away his hands and pull yourself up instead, as much as your arm protested in agony.

Keiran stuttered out his assumption on where the cabin and Colm was, they pushed their horses in the opposite direction of camp.

Arthur mounted on after you, and for the first few moments you chose to hang on to nothing, however as if he knew, he kicked his horse to a trot, prompting you to grab at his sides.

Even underneath his layer of clothing, you could feel his heavyset build that helped keep you steady. Looking him up and down, a shiny metal caught your eye.

You were captivated at the sight of your revolver, missing the feel of it at your side and in your palm whenever you saw fit.

He had taken your gun as if you weren't still alive to be the owner of it.

You clenched your jaw, angry at everything and now finally riding to your more likely than not demise, worse yet, possibly executed with your own gun.

He kicked his horse into a lope, leaving you clinging to his sides firmly.

He turned to look over his shoulder at you, clearly in response to your tightened grip.

A small smirk crossed his lips before peering back to the trail up ahead.

The rest of the entire ride consisted of Keiran condemning O'Driscolls, bickering and directions shouted from you and Keiran.

It didn't take very long at the speed in which you rode, though you feared slipping off everytime you didn't have a good hold on Arthur.

You approached a small hill, Keiran confirmed the destination upon arrival.

"Okay, off your horses." Arthur draws back the reins. "Let's go." His voice now low in tone.

He jumps off and you follow suit shortly after, sliding off the back of his horse.

John reminded you and Keiran as you snuck forward, that he was keepijg his eye on you. Although you felt Arthur had beat him to it, he stared daggers at you as you crept along with the rest of them.

"I ain't gonna shop you now, come on." Keiran assures. "That'd be suicide."

"You'll die, boy. But you'll lose your balls first." Warned Bill, his gravelly voice blunt as could be.

Bill wasn't a man you wanted to be too close to with threats like that, so you kept closer to Arthur.

"Jesus christ…" Keiran murmured under his breath.

The lot of you kept low as you came to a ridge overlooking the cabin.

Keiran gave the rundown, confirming they were in fact armed, drunk and not fond of strangers.

Colm would be in the same way, just in the comfort of the cabin, which you agreed on.

Unlike Keiran's declared opposition, the O'Driscolls were a gang you rode with for a good while and despite Colm's nasty behavior, you felt a large sense of betrayal. Betrayal or your life, as it was now.

Your thoughts interrupted by three men emerging from the small cover of young trees, conversing about something miniscule and not far from earshot.

Suddenly Keiran was grabbed by John, a gun to his head and a hand over his mouth.

Arthur followed suit, pulling you into him, losing your balance with his sudden pull, your own gun held to your head and any potential cries for help blocked by his rough hand.

The now non existent barrier betwen your back and his chest was closed, you could feel each breath and each nervous heart beat agaisnt you.

[runabout-river]

Thoughts on Jujutsu Kaisen Chapter 227 (Spoiler)

We get reminded again that the crows are there and filming this entire spectacle. Sukuna's Domain and his inner structure are also still standing proud

We get another explanation on what a technique burn-out is. After last chapter I theorized that you can heal an innate technique with positive energy which meant that negative energy was that thing that damaged the technique in the first place. Yuta otoh explains that a burn-out is akin to a motor overheating where positive energy can't actually do much because nothing is damaged. But Yuta is definitely confused and has as much trouble understanding what he's seeing as we, the readers.

Sukuna is using both DE and DA. The line 'is he getting used to this' was translated differently in another translation. There it was sth like 'does he already know this'. This other translation would imply that Sukuna fought against similar opponents to Gojo in the past which would track with the saying that the Heian period was the height of Jujutsu. Imagine the four special grade sorcerers Gojo, Geto, Yuta and Yuki but dozens of them best exemplified by Yorozu. And Sukuna was still the King of them.

It's also funny that Kashimo called dibs on fighting Sukuna next which tells me that that won't happen anytime soon. My prediction on this fight is that Gojo will be handicapped for some time so that the others have to get in and continue the fight against Sukuna (and try their various ways in which they wanted to save Megumi)

Gojo's domain collapsed twice and he's now in his third attempt. This is extraordinary! Gojo literally has the power and understanding to activate his domain multiple times AND try new approaches to defeat Sukuna. And while Sukuna does counter everything that Gojo throws at him, it's Gojo who's learning all of this on the spot while Sukuna is falling back on his experiences from his past life.

(Uraume who)

Sukuna is surprised by this technique because Megumi didn't know about it and also because it seems to have been created after his time. This is important to note because while the Heian period was the height of Jujutsu that doesn't mean that everything that came later was useless. Falling Blossom Emotion is also another technique specifically made to counter domains which is another subtle part of Gege's world building which would explain why todays sorcerers fight differently to the sorcerers of the past.

We know why Megumi didn't learn this technique from the Zenin but Gojo could've taught it to him as well but apparently he didn't. I hope we get more info on how exactly Gojo raised or helped raise Megumi and Tsumiki.

Why does Kusakabe know so much? And to emphasize again, Falling Blossom Emotion is a Cursed Energy Reinforcement technique. It doesn't neutralize the techniques themselves so it's susceptible to the ones with wild abilities but good for the straightforward ones like Sukuna's slashes

Sukuna btw has still not used the 10 Shadows. He barely used any techniques actually. Up until now his tactic has been Domain Expansion, Domain Amplification, Cleave/Dismantle, hit/kick. The guy has still an entire reservoir of abilities to use against Gojo

Domains are not as static as we were made to believe but I did always wonder if that was even true. Now we know you can change the conditions of your Domain even while it's still active.

The Shrine inside Sukuna's Domain is finally gone but only because Gojo changed the dimensions of his own Domain. Don't forget that time dilation can be an effect of a Domain as well so while this mini barrier might break in the first panel of next week's chapter, we might still get 1 or 2 chapters of the fight inside the Domain that lasted significantly longer.

If we'll get a long fight inside the domain or not, the domain shenanigans themselves are most likely over with this chapter because Gege doesn't waste time by dragging out things that have already fulfilled their purpose.

The results of the popularity poll are in and my favorite Megumi is in first place 😬 I would've liked to see Sukuna in the top five but I can see how people might be a little angry with him possessing Megumi. But he is right beside Toji and I might have written one or two Tojikuna fics in the recent months so there is that.

What's your favorite JJK character and where would you've placed all of them?

[frogizz]

The Untamed Episode 32ish spoilers

I've been real quiet about my thoughts watching The Untamed. I haven't read the novel yet but I've been looking at the fan wiki so I know how different things kinda are. Anyways, I'ma list how I feel about the characters and what not. I am at episode 32 or 33 btw.

Yanli is a sweetheart, an angel, a gift to this Earth AND HOW SHE DIES IS HEART WRENCHING! She just gave birth a month ago, she just lost her husband to some stupid fight, her injury and death is blamed on her kinda innocent brother, IM FURIOUS. She deserved so much more than she got, I knew she died young but not like this!

I never trusted Jin Guangyao from the start, I don't like his face (It's the character, not the actor, the actor is fine). He is shady and from the looks of his wiki page, I was right about my gut feeling.

Jin Zixuan has been a tough guy for me to like, but honestly, as long as he made Jiang Yanli happy, he was decent in my book.

THE HYPOCRATES THE JIN CLAN ARE. Explain to me how they think they can do whatever they want just because they aren't the Wen Clan? Their mentality is that they can do what they want because they believe they're already incapable of doing or being bad, when they should really be having the mentality of avoiding doing bad actions and reflect. Jin Zixun annoyed the hell out of me because he was the main culprit of acting just like he was all high and mighty.

Jin Zixun and the other smaller clans just HAD to point fingers and antagonize somebody, didn't they? Like of course, the Wen clan did terrible things, but you don't kill innocent people! Wei Wuxian didn't need to play the hero, but honestly, who would've stepped up to save them? Everything would've been fine if jin Zixun didn't assume Wei Wuxian cast that spell on him and went for the violent route.

I know Wen Qing doesn't show up as much in the novel, which I'll be sad reading through scenes I expected her to be in after watching The Untamed, but she is one of my favorites. She is innocent, or at least mostly, in my eyes. Her actions were those of "I don't want to exactly get involved, and I also kinda think that my clan is doing some bullsh*t but I can't exactly rebel now can I?". I could be wrong, but she deserved a better fate.

Wen Ning, oh my gosh, he deserved better too, he was such a good kid, SUCH A GOOD KID, and he got abused and basically tortured. He deserves more than to be a ghost puppet.

WEI WUXIAN YOU IDIOT, YOU MADE A PROMISE TO YOUR SISTER, YOU TOLD HER THE THREE OF YOU WOULD BE TOGETHER FOREVER YET YOU RUN OFF SO EASILY TO SAVE THE WEN REMNANTS?! Of course, who would've saved them if not Wei Wuxian, that's not necessarily bad. But he just didn't think twice about the promise he made to Jiang Yanli when he just left like that. Not cool dude. Not. Cool.

I don't hate Jiang Cheng, and I don't love him either. I like him, his actions are valid and especially his thoughts are too. To me he is reasonable and makes judgement based on what the audience sees, so I think he is sometimes portrayed as some angry guy when really, he is reacting to things without knowing the full story.

OOH I JUST KNOW THAT MOFO WHO WAS MAKING THE SPIRITS GO OUT OF CONTROL AT THE NIGHTLESS CITY WAS JIN GUANGYAO. Now, I have no evidence, but hear me out, where TF did he go after all the fighting broke out?

I really wanna write some fanfics of 2-5 chapters of different "What if" scenarios regarding Wei Wuxian's decisions in his life and how things could've been better.

Wen Yuan is so adorable and I will protect him with my life. I don't know too much about how he is as Lan Sizhui (btw, I think he's only an adult in The Untamed because he's around 3 when he was Wen Yuan and 16 passed so he's older compared to the novel which makes him 16 years old as Lan Sizhui. Fact check me please).

The music has me in a choke hold.

I have no opinion on Lan Wangji besides he's cool and Wei Wuxian's biggest supporter.

I care a lot more for Wen Ning, Wen Qing, and Jiang Cheng, Jiang Yanli, and Wei Wuxian relationships being fine and healthy than I do for Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangi. Mostly because we don't get to see the romance in The Untamed but I hope to see that connection and care for their relationship more when I read the novel. Until then, the siblings are all I care about because they're family and they could've been so happy together.

The way I sobbed when the Jiang clan was attacked and the previous Jiang clan leader and his wife died. The way the Jiang siblings were now orphaned and Wei Wuxian was orphaned a second time. (I call all three of them the Jiang siblings, is there another thing I can call them that would make more sense? I know Wei Wuxian was a part of the Jiang clan but he doesn't have the family name nor is he part of the clan anymore.)

Lan Xichen is another one of my favorites. Never hated any of his actions or words for one second. He is so agreeable and likeable for me. Reminds me of how I felt towards Yue Qingyuan when reading SVSSS. 10/10 character, mwah.

Where TF are my Nie Huaisang scenes, he barely shows up and I kinda wanna see him more.

Jin Ling is so adorable as a baby but damn does he take after his uncle.

I find it sweet that even after leaving the clan, Wei Wuxian was still allowed to see Jiang Yanli's wedding dress and even name his nephew. So sweet, I cried at that scene. She was so pretty, she was so generous to give a portion of the soup to Wen Ning and I love her generosity and kindness to the heavens.

I'm not gunna lie, I wasn't expecting Jin Zixun's death to be like how it was but it was kind of deserved? I was a little sad when Jin Zixuan died though, only because Jiang Yanli would be a widow with a newborn. Can't hurt my girl emotionally like that, just can't.

Last but not least, I can't remember his name and that one chick, but that Young Master Wen, I hated his face, his smug look, I think his death was deserved. And that lady he had with him all of the time, so annoying, so pitiful, they did a great job acting because they made me hate their faces.

Oh yeah, and, Wei Wuxian is an idiot, but a thoughtful idiot. I say that affectionally and I don't think he's actually full of himself (my interpretation can be so wrong and I'll realize that later). He does things for others not to look good (or at least that isn't the main concern), but to actually do something that no one else does. He plays the hero because no one else will help. Although, yeah, he does take on big challenges to look cool but at the end of the day, It's not really all for his own gain.

Okay, that's it. See another post like this when I finish Ep. 50 and I can't wait to find access to the animated MDZS!

[xomoosexo]

you know I have mutuals that are into the q smp without being dream neg so I see some of it and the q smp meetup feels so weird to me. Kind of sad kind of happy weird. Like they seem so full of joy and I just hope they’re happy and they remain friends and I’m glad that some good came of this, even if it hurt us (which we didn’t deserve btw I’m realizing I’m sounding very q smp forgiving we didn’t deserve what we got but I’m happy some people are happy I guess). On the other hand, it feels like a strange wrapped reflection of d smp before everything. Like it’s all gonna fall apart. Idk. I guess part of that is q’s already done it twice and it’s not like the Sapnap Q George meet up was less happy, and yet. Anyways I wish them the best.

(To be clear I’m saying this on anon because I *don’t* believe it absolutely will happen and I will admit I have complicated feelings about all of this because of April. This is just nonsensical ramblings so don’t take it too seriously)

I think it's totally normal to feel happy when you see other people happy and wish them well (especially the people who aren't q, they didn't do anything and I'm glad they are having a good time) and it's normal for it to be bittersweet and kinda cynical about the whole thing seeing as we've experienced that before. that high high joy of the q meetups with snf and then the low low of him basically cutting all of them off. its almost like looking in this uncanny mirror reflection of the d smp, almost what could've been if lockdown hadn't been happening at the same time- if people didn't have to wait so long to see eachother in person. and also, we "know" how it ends, how q has met up with people and dropped them before. it's uncomfortable to see people so happy when you're pretty sure that's all gonna break down again soon. idk. I'm glad I was here to experience those meetups and streams with q even if it ended the way it did. I'm glad I experienced that happiness while it was there.

[dangerpronebuddie]

hi!! you said in tags on a recent post that they were foreshadowing something happening to eddie! could you pls tell me when you thought this, as i’m intrigued lol

Hello anon! 🥰

You're going to think I'm delulu by the end of this. If you don't already lol 😅

For starters, 9-1-1 loves playing the long game when it comes to foreshadowing. Eddie's shooting and the lead up to his breakdown started in his first episode.

I mean, we had "I've just done it while people are shooting at me is all" in 2x01 and "At least nobody's shooting at us" in the crossover. And! Eddie's insistence that the universe does not scream.

All the military related accidents and the entirety of the Shannon arc and 3x15 and... pretty much everything that happened to that poor man lead to his breakdown.

But the foreshadowing for what I thought was going to happen (which didn't 😕) started in 4x14 with none other than the legal guardian conversation.

I mentioned that I thought something was going to happen to Eddie and/or Chris. Like with the shooting, whatever that something is has been building for a few seasons.

Now, I love the legal guardian thing. There's so many layers to it, not to mention how they look at each other through the whole thing. It's a declaration of love. However! It's also a bad omen.

Eddie Diaz, Mr. Prove To Me Something Is Real And I'll Believe It, keeps jinxing himself. Even speaking the will into existence is a bad idea™. These writers don't normally bring something up and then forget about it. And I would say making your best friend the father of your child if you aren't there is a pretty big thing to just leave hanging!

Eddie didn't even plan on telling Buck about it until the shooting. He waited an entire year??? For something that important? In short, the writers included it for a purpose beyond an aborted love confession.

Anyhoo. That's sign one.

Season 5 we can put aside, because it was a whole other thing.

Season 6 was where the most foreshadowing came in. I think it all really started in 6x07. Even Eddie, by the like third(?) accident Felisha had, commented on the fact that he might be cursed. At the end of the episode, at the beach, he gets a call from Abuela. The framing of that shot (I really wish I could make gifs right now. Thankfully I found a set) shows Eddie in focus with Chris at the forefront. As Eddie asks "what does she say about my future?" in regards to Abuela's curandera, the focus shifts to Chris. To me, that meant something would happen to Eddie and have the guardian thing come up again.

Then, in 6x15, Eddie and Chris go to see Shannon (I thought that was really nice, btw, it was sweet). Then his mother is pestering him to come visit. He talks to her twice I believe (haven't rewatched that episode in a while, the cemetery scene haunts me 😅). Anyway, when he talks to her at the end of the episode, he says "we'll figure something out. Okay? We got time."

Refer to my earlier statement. Eddie keeps jinxing himself!

The entire episode, there was something ominous about it. The old lady, "we're all gonna die alone," Shannon, etc. It just felt... eerie, I suppose.

I expected the season 6 finale to satisfy the foreshadowing. I heard they rewrote the ending thanks to them not being sure if the show would be picked up by another network (THANK YOU ABC!) Anyway. Something tells me that the original plan was to severely hurt the fathers on the team. Chim, Bobby, and Eddie were all in serious danger.

The time jump at the end kinda sucked. To me, the finale felt a little... discombobulated. I think that maybe, even though 911 doesn't do this, they intended for season 6 to end on a cliffhanger. Any or all three of them could've still been in danger or clinging to life when the episode ended. It would've been more satisfying, honestly.

Anyway.

I just think they hinted a little too much at this. It could be that it just hasn't happened yet and there's still more foreshadowing to go. Maybe in season 7, Eddie could be missing and presumed dead or injured badly enough to have Buck step in for Chris (in a much more concrete parental role.)

[kahvilahuhut]

Find The Word Tag

got tagged by @autumnalwalker <3 thank you so much!!!

since i was tagged twice i have eight words to look for: nearby, wear, rest, maze, hour, went, common, & water

I'm tagging @artbyeloquent @emelkae @void-botanist @sunset-a-story @howlingbreeze to look for words break, burning, beach & sea

all text parts from planet alone. check out me trying out 1st person pov in some of them btw (i'm really bad at it)

nearby - Nathan's pov

Hearing footsteps from behind, I turned around only to startle Two and Five by my sudden turn. Both had barely managed to stop quickly enough to not crash into me. "What?" "If we can't keep you by the ship," Five said, glancing to the burnt metal part laying not far from them, "I guess we'll just have to follow you around." "Yeah. So what's the plan?" Two added quickly. "I guess we should go to a nearby village. They will-" I paused, slowly remembering the state of most population of the planet, "-probably have the tools we need. And it's also the most likely place Dana will go to once they return and see the state of our ship." If they return, that is. I definitely didn't want to think about the other scenario.

wear - Dana's pov

I felt like I wanted to run as far as I can. The lights, the hall, the people in it - I definitely felt like I don't belong there. I felt my hands shake, the fancy drink in my hand swaying in the glass. Parties are my thing, but not these fancy evening events with all the famous people in them. And the worst of all was the formal coat I had to wear. I felt it tight around my shoulders, and it had no pockets in it. Field uniform didn't sound that bad after all.

rest - Dana's pov

"How is minister?" Two asked, "Five doesn't answer my queries. I get that he's busy, but he could've at least answered some of them and not leave me on read." "He's fine." I sat down on the sofa and felt like melting on it. "Or, well, stable, as they say clinically. That's the word Five used." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This was a long day. "Don't worry about Five, he has had his hands full of things to do and just probably didn't have time to answer." "He did just now. Says I need to tell you to rest." "Don't need to tell me twice."

maze - not found

hour - not found (huh)

went - Dana's pov

She left early in the morning, even before the sun had risen. Dana knew that they would be unpleased that she went there all alone, but she didn't care. She had to do it. And she couldn't risk anyone else's life doing it.

common - not found :(

water - Dana's pov

He didn't seem to enjoy being here either, though I assumed he would have been used to these kind of events already due to his career. "What are you drinking?" I asked. Small talk about work or this event was the last thing I wa ted to do. "Uhhh...water..." Nathan answered, as if the question reminded him of the glass' existence. "They didn't have any other non-alcoholic drinks, can you believe it?"

[mtgpocketrealm]

Outlaws of Thunder Junction Opinions

Unrelated to the project, but related to mtg. Even though no one asked for it, I am very opinionated and thus, here we are.

That is my warning.

Blatant Lies from Customer Eyes

When we were introduced to the plane, we were told that it was devoid of life, at least sentient/sapient life.

Turns out that literal cactus men (should've been called cactuskin rather than cactusfolk, feels more prickly as a term to me, but that is unrelated) don't count as life. 'Oh, the people migrating to the plane didn't know' but guess who does know, the people making the game and going 'there is no life on Thunder Junction'.

Maro said something along the lines of 'every character there has a reason to be there even if not mentioned on cards or in the story'. No, that isn't how that works, if we don't see it, it doesn't actually exist. Multiple of the characters which have no reason to be on the plane are simply there because they are wanted to be there, not because it makes sense (rich coming from me, I know).

The story can't change

Jace and Vraska are uncompleted, which makes no sense, the had a significant portion of their bodies replaced with machinery. I have no issue with their minds coming back, but their bodies shouldn't come back, Jace using illusions to cover it so they appear normal is fine to me. To my knowledge btw, Jace's nervous system should be fucked along with Vraska's lower body and 'hair'. As far as I'm aware, Jace's mother isn't a literal god and is closer to a normal doctor, so they should both be omega dead with that logic of 'she gave them surgery'.

They should not be okay by any stretch of the imagination.

Speaking of Phyrexians, there is no remnants of Phyrexians on this plane, not even a field of rusted/decaying centurions, March of the Machines basically never happened except for the blurb mentioned on Eldraine of the sleeping curse.

Timeline Inconsistencies

The Atiim, a new nomadic people, are mentioned to have been on a number of planes before coming to Thunder Junction. I am making the assumption that the time between planes has become unified because there would be 'void omenpaths' where people enter but never exit due to being slower time on the other side. Which, unlike planeswalking time shenanigans, gets messy when everywhere is connected. As such, how many planes could these people have gone to when the omenpaths have only been around for about a year, maybe two. Like, the flavor text feels like it heavily implies that they know what they are doing hopping plane to plane as a group, moving around once, maybe twice or even thrice a year (one mentions 'a few seasons' as a frame of reference for how long they will stay at most). So like...when did they get their expertise? Where they a group of Planeswalkers who got desparked? That would help, but I do not understand that to be the case.

Missed Opportunities

In my humble opinion (humble because it doesn't matter, not because I myself am humble) there were two large missed opportunities.

The first, Jace and Vraska being uncompleated. It would be infinitely more interesting if they were compleated and seeking a way to New Phyrexia with this whole thing, their personalities slightly warped, using Jace's illusion magic to make them appear uncompleated in most situations, but still being compleated. Gives a better reason for this convoluted plot than 'I want to be able to go wherever I want and bring my girlfriend with me'. Though, that's fine, I just think it would be more interesting if they were evil for a while, avoiding walkers that could cure them (by stopping being walkers). Like, this mostly comes from 'cutting off norn stopped phyrexians' which I stand by is dumb, but this could've worked since the walkers were always more independent than actual phyrexians.

The second, was adding mystery to this card:

Change the name to something like 'Mind's Fear' or something and change the type to Jace Ashiok or Ashiok Jace, and finally, make the Jace half the completed version of him. That way he could look like CJace or Ashiok in the story with the logic of 'Ashiok is using the multiverse's fear of one of the most powerful compleated walkers who got away' or 'Jace is masquerading as Ashiok'. The mystery won't last obviously, but that would be a far cooler story beat, two walkers who would be equally bad to encounter and both being capable of masquerading as the other.

The Good

I like Jace and Vraska being an item, just feels correct given the obscene amount of time we've had 'will they won't they'.

I like the Formeri being a big thing.

I like that Loot, the Omenport, and the plane being named Thunder Junction, all imply that Omenpaths may have existed during the Coin Empire.

I really like the potential I see and that we will probably see some Formori in the sci-fi set.

But

I am extremely concerned that they will fumble the potential very hard as they did with WAR and MOM. It feels like they are doing things in the story 'because I said so' rather than 'because it could make sense'. Like, they sprint to the finish line of a plot and it has no lasting ramifications.

I'm not adding tags to these whenever I do them, but feel free to reblog with tags to have other people see this if you agree, or even if you disagree I guess. I may do this again if I feel strongly on another set, likely the conclusion ones because that seems to be where I feel strong feelings (strong feelings at how it wasn't a good conclusion recently).

[zaptap]

finally got our ethernet fixed today

forgot to mention it (because i hoped it wouldn't last long), but for the past 2 months i've had to play splatoon on wifi because we changed to a different isp and they moved the router and the ethernet cable we'd run under the house suddenly led nowhere

definitely noticed an increase in communication errors in splatoon (and i thought it was bad before). i rarely ever got "the connection is unstable" (where it locks your controls) on ethernet (it would just kick me with no warning), but on wifi i was getting that like every day (interestingly though they didn't give me timeouts from as many of them? used to be pretty much every one came with a timeout, on wifi almost none of them did. weird since that's a situation where you could almost argue i'm at fault, since i could've been on ethernet)

interestingly, i pretty much never got disconnected when i was going back and playing splatoon 1 during this time. i remember getting a lot of communication errors in 2015-2016, but that was all on wifi (in a different situation than i'm in now). i got a lan adapter for splatoon 2 and remember getting about the same amount of disconnects so i didn't really feel like it made a difference, but uh. i guess maybe they keep making it worse somehow (splatoon 3 definitely feels a bit worse than 2)

anyway, after dealing with this shit a LOT in the gold rotation--getting disconnected 3 seconds before finishing xtrawave, getting "the connection is unstable" at the very very end of wave 3 and praying it didn't count as a disconnect twice, and having the message flash by for a second and scare the shit out of me

...it occurred to me that throughout the splatoon 2 days, when i'd tethered my switch to my phone to play splatfests at work during my breaks/lunches, i don't really remember getting disconnected much at all?

so i tried that. zero disconnects for the whole 6.5 hours i used it. absolutely more stable than my home wifi. maybe even more stable than the ethernet i was on before (it'd be super rare--though not unheard of--for me to go that long without being disconnected), though now that we've switched isps i'll have to try the new one to see if it's any different

like... if my phone data is more stable than my ethernet... that's weird, right? you don't see people going around saying you should connect your console to your phone to get better internet, they say to use ethernet (btw, on the old ethernet, the wifi, the phone tethering, and the new ethernet, my switch always had nat type B. i know A is ideal, but i hear B is maybe close enough, and for the sake of comparing differences it's worth noting this wasn't one)

anyway it's about the end of the month (which i why i decided i might as well use my data, since i had plenty left), and i'd used 750mb. i have 5gb per month (actually thought this was 2gb until i opened the app to check what i had left? well if that's what they think i have and if it's the same price i was paying for 2gb then i'm not complaining)

which would leave, assuming my data usage for this month was average, 4.25gb/mo for splatoon if i decided i'd be better off using my phone for it. i tried to get some sense of how much it uses per hour, and i think it's less than 100mb? maybe like 75. that gives me like 56 hours per month, just under 2 a day. which is maybe about what i play it, but some days i play more than that, so it wouldn't really work to use it for ALL of my splatoon playing, but i absolutely should be able to if i'm trying to rank up in salmon run like last night

this is of course assuming the new ethernet isn't any better than the old one though

[theunexplainable]

This is set in season seven btw, anyway on to the story

_______________________________________________________________________

Scar looked around cautiously before heading into Grian's base, it had been days since Scar had last seen Grian and he was starting to worry. He knew that Grian could've been caught up with building or mining, but something in him knew something was off. So there he was, sneaking into Grian's hobbit hole in hopes of finding his avian friend.

"Grian?! Are you in here?!" Scar shouted, more worried about his friend then his own safety.

Scar continued further, before finding a short flight of stairs that he remembered led to Grian's living space. So up them he went, going down the hall way towards Grian's room. The door to the room was closed, but he could hear what sounded like a bird behind it, the birds gentle chirps calming Scar considerably.

"Hello? G-man, you in here?" Scar asked cautiously before opening the door.

"Scar?" Grian chirped from where he sat in what could only be described as a nest, it was made of blankets and pillows, and sat on Grian's queen sized mattress, he turned to face Scar, his lips upturned in a smile.

"Hey G, watcha doing?" Scar asked, relieved to find his friend okay.

Grian didn't reply, instead he stood and shuffled out of the nest before walking to Scar and grabbing his arm, beginning to pull him back towards the nest. Scar could feel how warm Grian was, and the light dusting of red on his friends face only served to make Scar question if he was sick. He had little time to think things over before he was unceremoniously pushed into the nest, his fall was cushioned by numerous pillows. Grian followed quickly after, sitting behind Scar's head and starting to run his fingers through Scar's hair, Scar's wizard hat seemingly long forgotten on the floor.

"Grian, is something wrong?" Scar questioned softly, not wanting to upset the bird man.

"Have you eaten?" Grian replied nonchalantly, lifting Scar's head up to place in his lap, before continue to stroke through his hair.

"I... Not since this morning, why?" Scar asked, trying to figure out why Grian would be concerned.

Grian hummed in response, thinking for a moment before moving Scar's head and making his way out of the nest, turning around and dragging Scar out of the nest and to the kitchen.

"G-Grian?!? What are you doing?" Scar yelped, having been pushed down into one of the dinning chairs that sat around Grian's dinning table.

"Making you food!" Grian exclaimed happily, chirping to himself as he got out spaghetti noodles and a large pot.

Scar watched curiously as Grian twittered about, seemingly very intent on making dinner.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ ≤time skip≥ _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

After the two had finished eating, Grian took Scar back to his nest, Scar laying on his back with Grian happily resting on Scar's chest. The avians wings were puffed up and his tail feathers spread, covering the most of Scar that he could.

"We should probably change into something more comfortable if we're gonna sleep here." Scar stated gently, trying to lift Grian up as slowly and calmly as possible, not wanting to upset his avian friend.

Grian chirped and twittered at him for a moment, considering the statement before lifting himself off Scar easily. Scar sat up quickly after, stumbling out of the nest to follow after Grian, said man stood patiently at the entrance of his walk in closet.

"You can borrow something," Grian suggested easily.

Scar walked inside, eyeing the shirts and finding a couple boxers his size and a pair of shorts. Although it made him wonder why Grian had something his size when he was twice the size of the small avian. When he came out Grian switched places with him, going into the closet and coming out in an oversized sweater and grey lounge pants.

They continued like that for about a week, having meals together and sleeping in the nest. Scar sat comfortably, looking back on the events that had happened, he noticed Grian had been having trouble getting around recently. Speaking of the avian, he was nestled on Scar's chest, it seemed he was having trouble getting comfortable. Scar could see why, the avians stomach had bloated considerably, about seven or eight inches from his spine to where Scar guessed his bellybutton should be.

"Grian we should really check your stomach out," Scar said, concern flooding his chest, his hands going to Grian's hips keeping him in place.

Grian chirped and twittered at Scar, ignoring his concerns and brushing his hair thoroughly with his fingers.

"Grian please, this could be hurting you!" Scar explained, moving his hands to the avians stomach, making Grian stop and look him in the eye.

"Leave my eggs alone hatchling." Grian demanded quietly, the smile on his face vanishing in an instant, the words made Scar pause momentarily.

"...."

"YoUr WhAT?!?!" Scar yelped, sitting up and shifting Grian to his lap, ignoring the nickname to focus more on what he had said before it.

"hush now hatchling, it's time to sleep," Grian soothed, brushing through Scar's hair and gently pushing him to lay back, before once again making himself comfortable atop Scar.

"Grian what do you mean eggs?" Scar asked astounded.

"Do you not know what an egg is hatchling?" Grian replied, fluffing his wings to cover them both, acting as a blanket.

"I know what an egg is! But, who's the father?" Scar countered, he had a few guesses but he had to make sure.

"They're unfirtilized my hatchling," Grian reassured, situating himself how he pleased,making sure both of them were comfortable before closing his eyes in content.

Even after Grian had long since gone to sleep Scar's mind swirled with thoughts and worries, everything had finally begun to make sense. The actions and nicknames that had seemed so friendly, now seemed motherly and caring. After hours of wakefulness, Scar soon drifted to restless sleep, the constant thought of bringing Grian to X only louder.

The next day Scar set himself on researching about avians, Grian seemed undisturbed by the questions Scar asked him when he couldn't find an answer in his communicator. Grian also brought him food as he worked, and occasionally he would sit in the living room with him, curled up on the couch next to Scar, peacefully sleeping.

"Hey Grian, can I uh... Look at your, um, your... eggs?" Scar asked timidly "if that's alright with you of course! I just, wanted to... Uh..."

Grian looked at him carefully, watching as the man fumbled over himself trying to not seem rude or weird. The two were in the kitchen, getting dinner ready when curiosity got to Scar. Grian chirped at him before stepping closer, he reached out and grabbed Scar's hand, moving it underneath his sweater and placing Scar's palm over where the eggs sat.

"I, oh..." He gasped, almost mesmerized at the feel of it, it was soft but hard enough to show there was something underneath, something special. They stood like that for a while, Scar just feeling the avians enlarged middle and Grian chirping and twittering at him happily, only separating when the oven dinged.

Over the next week and a half Grian only got bigger, making it difficult for him to do everyday things. Because of this Scar took up cooking, leaving Grian to rest happily in his nest without a care in the world. Scar also found himself quite fond of Grian's newly acquired roundness, he was happy to help the avian get where he wanted to be.

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[hey my dudes! This one is a little different then what I normally do, and it's a bit longer too lol! Hope you like it! Made this for @crystlewhitewolfbluie because I really liked their Grian egg preg ideas and the added touch of Scarien was too good to miss! I cut this off a little short because I didn't want to do anything that you guys might be uncomfortable with, anyway, I'm out!]

[liyuesbian]

✧ pygmalion!au [ningguang]

notes: btw idk how commissions from museums work i just made the process up LMAO and this one's kinda angsty? i mean, it is the pygmalion greek myth so iykyk. also, i describe this figurine of ningguang here but w/o the colour... i've linked it in case any1 needs the reference. (btw, this is not set in ancient greece specifically)

only yesterday had you been commissioned by an art gallery in the capital to create a piece for their up-and-coming collection titled desire, love and identity. yet here you are, slaving away to make the perfect image you had in your head come into fruition. your vision is exquisite once sketched on paper—you can't find any faults in it so you take the risk.

as soon as your chisel meets the marble, a feeling so invigorating dominates your body. no further references are necessary as you place your trust entirely on your hands, coarse from the labour. you find such mindless toil addicting and you work day and night, only stopping for a half-baked meal and the odd collapse into bed.

for months, love streams out of the tips of your fingers and through your sculpting tools to arrive at the stone figure. you sincerely hope the intimate emotion has been reached.

when you finish, you wipe the bead of sweat running down your forehead, rest the other palm on your hip and take slow steps backwards all while maintaining eye contact with the statue. a wave of sweet relief hits you and you fall to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing into tired hands that still grip the hammer and chisel.

it's beautiful.

you stagger, struggling to get up with your bruised knees while clumsily wiping the tears off your stained cheeks. setting the instruments aside, you lift your head to admire your handiwork up close. a woman made of stone sits elegantly atop an oriental chair, crossing her smooth, white legs over each other. her left elbow is propped on the arm of the chair while on the other side, a long smoking pipe is balanced between gloved fingers. around her lies an assortment of objects: a vase containing scrolls, a floor lamp, and a charmingly decorated folding screen.

you see, you had already thought it all out. you'd imagined ningguang's preferences for a life of luxury, her affinity for constructing and sprucing up interiors. she would be a master of the trades and a woman who likes to keep an air of mystery around her. and like how you increasingly project her to be more of a person than she ever will be, there is a creeping concern in the corner of your mind that you will lose your rationality just as quickly.

the sculpture's body is clad in a qipao with a slit that reveals alabaster skin below the waist. the dress—embellished with patterns and neat linings—hugs her figure and shows off a lean build. the extensive train and sleeves of the fabric are shaped curvaceously to mirror the flow of a waterfall. and her face. the section you strived so hard to refine. she stares at you with an imperious expression and a hint of a smirk. her gaze, so piercing, makes you avert your eyes in shyness but you find yourself gravitating back to her profile.

you muster up the courage to draw closer to your creation and unconsciously stroke her cheek with your thumb, captivated. if she were an empress, you'd be a common peasant—undeserving of setting your sights on such a goddess. you can feel your soul being sucked into eyes devoid of emotion—of anything, actually. after all, the woman sitting before you is not a person but an inanimate object.

the weeks following the completion of ningguang—which is the name you've picked up the habit of calling her—are spent in said lady's company. every minute of every day, you surround yourself with her presence as if she is your closest friend. you eat with her, tell her your troubles, even going so far as to decorate her with various types of jewellery and bringing her gifts you think she'd like.

"thank you," you whisper. "for always listening to me." in truth, you're always so immersed in your work that you forgot what conversations could feel like. though, you fear your art would never be on par with something so transcendent ever again.

you become curious, wondering what she would be like if the nymph in front of you were not just a figment of your imagination.

you perch yourself on top of ningguang's stone-cold lap and trace the contours of her visage. you inspect each crease on her lips and the minuscule crinkles in her eyes, applauding yourself for the well-crafted details. you don't know what possesses you but you close your eyes and press your lips against hers, hoping that once you open them, a living being would erupt from underneath the marble. but, of course, as soon as the light hits your retinas, ningguang is as unmoving as ever.

realising what you've just done, you drop off of her thighs and laugh anxiously. however, you could've sworn that you had felt warmth in the lips of your beloved muse.

"i've finally gone mad!" you cry aloud.

hell, you say to yourself, is it even possible to fall in love with such an... an artefact? you dismiss your glaringly obvious infatuation.

"nonsense," you mutter under your breath, sensing your heart breaking slightly. how can something so painfully humanlike also not be human at the same time? you must've caused a tremendous atrocity in your past life to have made the gods harbour a grudge against you. of all things, you'd never have guessed that a lifeless piece of art would be the object of your desire.

you can't bear to look at the handcrafted lady any longer and with an anguished face, cover her with a large cotton cloth. the plan was to wait until you could hand the statue over to the curators and try to ignore its existence until then.

for a few days, you act according to the plan, going about your daily routine but eventually, your stoic demeanour crumbles. you lock yourself in your room refusing to eat or believe that your affection would never be returned.

during the hours of sunlight, you weep under your sheets, drowning in self-inflicted sorrow. and at night, you do the same, lamenting over the loss of what could've been your true love. she would've been so perfect in your eyes, your other half, and the only one who could calm this growing turmoil!

the reality pains you. hence, you do the only thing you can do: you pray. you pray to the gods for a miracle, that the light of your life would stride into your room and pull you from the depths of despair... but she never does.

your last day "cohabitating" with the sculpture has arrived and for the first time in—what felt like—an eternity, you open the doors to your workshop. taking a deep breath, you unveil the stationary maiden.

it's still as beautiful as you remember.

you give it a sad smile, wanting to get its departure over and done with. you manoeuvre about the room to prepare the things for the movers who're due to come in a couple of hours. while you go down your little list of errands to be done, you cough and bat away the smoke—wait, the smoke? frantic, you spin around, eyes darting everywhere in search of its origin until they land on the smoking pipe you so intricately moulded for the commissioned piece.

it's strange, you don't recall colouring the statue. and how on earth is smoke coming out of the pipe? suspicious, you approach the motionless entity and almost stumble when you spot its chest rising.

oh lord! — i really must be descending into madness! you clutch your head, clawing at your hair in hysteria.

"stop, please don't hurt yourself." the sound of a low, worried voice penetrates your ears. you shut your eyes tight.

"no, the gods have cursed me! i mustn't listen to your poisonous words!" you exclaim. your state of agitation is alleviated when the woman caresses your tensed arm.

"what has happened to you? i haven't seen you lately either." the tone is more soft and more tender than you had imagined. you release your grip.

"is it really you, ningguang?" your voice cracks at the end, and the woman you sought after witnesses your features twist into an expression of longing and hope.

"yes, my darling. i dare not go anywhere else."

helplessly, you rush to cup her face to check for heat, for the blood traversing under her skin—anything that would prove that your sweetheart is truly alive and breathing. and when you do get the confirmation, you beam, trying to withhold tears born from elation.

you bend down to kiss ningguang, who is still seated on the chair, once, twice, and three times to rid your scepticism. oh, deities! she's real.

"i love you," you declare.

"i know." you watch as the same creases you'd etched on the corners of her eyes spread into a loving half-moon shape and you kiss her again.

you reach a conclusion: you couldn't give away your lover—let alone a live person—to be displayed as part of a museum exhibition so when the workers arrive, you hide your muse away in another room. you apologise profusely and spin a lie, rambling on about how you had nothing to relinquish for the piece you had prepared had been oh-so-viciously stolen by a mob of trespassers!

the movers share with you their sympathies and ask what the work of art looks like and maybe they could sort something out with the authorities. nodding, you recount—so ardently—the details of your divine maiden. you feel heat rush to your face, chuckling when you realise that you'd run your mouth for too long.

in response to this, the two labourers exchange dubious looks as they peer at the static sculpture standing in the middle of the studio—its appearance unmistakably matching your elaborate description.

[spade-snax]

Alright! Here goes my Bugsnax Grumpus last name headcanon!

(This ended up being way longer than I thought it would've been, oh god-)

I think we all can agree that the headcanon where a Grumpus child has their parent's combined last names as their own last name is a very common headcanon people share. It's a good one! Even I like it a lot. And when applied to OCs or fankids it makes for some hilarious names.

It'd make sense in-canon and I feel like it gives the Grumpus world more depth as their own little tradition. (Honestly give me ANY culture/tradition headcanon for Grumpuses PLEASE THOSE ARE MY FAVORITEEEE I even had one for teeth a while ago that I may share publicly one day!!)

But I've been thinking about this, especially because of Cromdo and my own OCs - Neddy and Rason Honeyfidget. With Rason being Neddy's dad, if we only used this headcanon then Neddy shouldn't have this last name... Well, there's a lore reason why he doesnt and that is that his mother has died while he was still an egg, a while before hatching. Rason made him take on "Honeyfidget" only.

But that's just the backstory that got me thinking at the name traditions as a whole, so I'll try to avoid OC talk any further to make this friendlier for others who do not know about my OCs and are just interested in reading this headcanon.

Another headcanon I want to mention as I apply it to my own is the headcanon that Triffany changed her last name to Bronica's last name as a way to honor her. You can definitely change your name to anything you want in the Grumpus world, but changing your last name to a relative's like your grandparent's last name is possibly quite common!

And now I want to bring up Cromdo and the fact he is divorced. It has been confirmed that Cromdo is divorced and that his name may reflect that. (Though originally it was answered in the AMA that "Cromdo Face" just sounded funny at first and that it is possible that he did loose a half of his last name this way!)

Also I want to say that he wasn't abusive to the child mentioned! I remember there was a small confusion and drama about that. And I believe one of the devs on the YH discord mentioned that the 1# tie was a reference to Octodad. I do not remember if that confirmed that he is a father or if this answer by Sage was possibly wrong. He cannot see the child because he lost custody of them and lost in court. I do not have screenshot evidence of this. On a side-note I believe this could be one of the reasons he grew to be so money hungry. He didn't have enough money back then to keep his child. Again I want to say it could be ONE of the reasons and not the exact reason why he is this way.

This is more so of an ramble about my headcanon and what I want to say rather than some comprehensive thing, I am so sorry dfwergeg it's just how I write and explain things and I gotta mention it ALL (Great addition to "Guzma, your ADHD is showing")

Anyways, back on track with my HC.

But in this/my headcanon - Cromdo is divorced, he has had a child, and lost a part of his last name because of the divorce. I do not know how human marriage last name and stuff works properly so uh, see this as just speculation about a fictional species' culture rather than a carbon copy of our own. Which it clearly isn't LOL

I personally think that you can do multiple things with your last name when you get married! (And how it can affect the child's last name!)

Let's use Chandlo and Snorpy as examples, because I think they make great last name combinations. (And Snorplo is HELLA !!/pos)

- You can change your last name to your partner's last name, like we do commonly. (At least, with all the cultures I'm aware of and how marriage works for us.) Examples: Snorpy Funkbun, Chandlo Fizzlebean

(This one isn't very common to do!)

- You can change one half of your last name to a half from your partner's last name. Examples: Snorpy/Chandlo Funkbun/Fizzlebun

(Not as common either, but it still happens. It is actually more common than the first example. This was the case for Cromdo. I'll get back to this later. Grumps usually reserve this for their childen, which is the most common way of naming your children!)

- You keep your last name after marriage! Example: Snorpy Fizzlebean. Chandlo Funkbun. Canon examples would be Wambus and Triffany as well!

(Most common one to do as many wear their last names with pride or for other reasons - such as Trifanny when she changed her last name to Bronica's last name in this headcanon.)

Before we get to the kids again, I'm gonna go back to Cromdo and what can happen during divorce.

During divorce you can simply change your name back if you changed it, or keep the last name you took from your partner. Many simply change their last names back to what they were originally. Some, if they went by the half/half method, take away the half from their ex-partner only. This leaves some Grumpuses with one worded last names, such as Cromdo.

I think he changed a half of his last name during marriage. After the divorce, he didn't want to "wear" his partner's name anymore and changed his name to Cromdo Face only as Face was a part of his last name he was given at birth. This is most often the default for Grumpuses who have been divorced and took only half of their partner's last name.

If Cromdo - (or any Grumpus with a one-word last name! There's certainly rare cases of Grumpuses who have one word that didn't go through divorce. Possibly Grumpuses with bad attachment to one of their parents - so they change or remove that half of the last name they got from said parent. If their last name was a combination.) - were to re-marry he could take one half of his new partner's last name, or not change his name at all.

I want to get onto how naming a child would work with this situation, so I will talk about ways of naming children before I get back to this! And by naming I of course mean the last names only, lol.

(One rule is that, unless you change your name later in real life for any reason, it's gonna have to be one of these otherwise! Your Grump parent cannot make you up a new last name. It is just a part of the tradition they have. Though re-naming isn't looked upon in any way by the majority of Grumpuses as there are many reasons to do so!! Unless you're a jerk or you value your last name TOO much.) (Also when I say "you" I don't mean YOU as the reader literally. I mean a hypothetical Grumpus child!! It's just how I like wording things.

(...I've been writing for almost an hour, brain scrampled eg)

- Your last name is the combined name of your parent's last names. Examples: Fizzlebun, Funkbean

(VERY COMMON! Most Grumpuses will do this when first naming their child!)

- Your keep one of your parent's last name! Fizzlebean or Funkbun.

(This all works if you have multiple parents btw! Can make for SUPER crazy long and funny last names. This *all* applies to marriage, too! I hope it is easily applicable. I do not want to go in depth on that. Feel free to hit me an ask about this if you want me to explain it more in depth!! I wouldn't want to exclude polyamorous relationships ^^ )

(Also yes, last names that are just the same word repeated twice/multiple times are possible too. Fizzlefizzle, Funkfunk... How fun are these to say? Gives me Grumpus OC name ideas already.)

But yes! Back to Cromdo! Or any Grumpus in the same situation, but as I've stater earlier, Cromdo is just an example here. If he were to re-marry and NOT change his name, there's two posibilities:

His new partner has a full last name.

In this situation, if they have a child they can keep the full last name from Cromdo's partner. Or they can have one word from his partner + Face. For reasons stated below the child cannot have "Face" as their only last name.

His new partner has a one-worded, short last name like he does.

In this situation, if they have a child they have to name it a combination of their last name's. No exception. Having a short last name is a sign of something happening in your life, and it is traditionally not put onto a child, unless they are adopted with no last name. That still counts as something that happened in their life, as their birth parents possibly just gave them away with no care in the world.

------------------------------------------

At this point I am almost completely off track, so please do ask me questions as I am not sure where I completely left off - Or rather if there is something I forgot that I wanted to mention.

By the way, for combining last names and such, you can also mis-match! Doesn't even have to be combinations. This applies to everything, even for (Full last name + one-word last names) where it makes sense the most. Examples: Beanfizzle, Bunfunk, Bunbean, Bunfizzle, Beanbun, Beanfunk. I'm personally a big fan of Bunfunk and Beanbun :P)

And this applies to siblings, too! It isn't uncommon for parents naming their children mis-matched last name combinations if they have multiple ones. (This ties into my headcanon for Filbo's many siblings and that he isn't a single child. He's in a big household and has at least 2 siblings. ONE OF WHICH I want to make into an OC! This requires me to make the parents, too, but I am not so bothered about that :P)

I'm out for now, all my brain power has left me a few paragraphs ago and I've got to go eat lunch

But again I encourage people to ask me questions (If anyone was brave enough to read through this!!)

And if I got anything wrong, do let me know! I am not all-knowing and I could've missed some VERY OBVIOUS mistakes.

And sorry if the writing is wonky at times! Sometimes it is done on purpose but sometimes the fact I only pretend I know how to write + the fact English is my second language IS SHOWING

(Also I sometimes just write how I think, without much thought put into the sentence if I don't proof read, so HSDFWERGRGT)