#with edits (read: capitalisation)

[organised-disaster]

All my Snowbird playlists! The "rumi" one is the original "snowbird," but I decided to make snowbird the general one with rumi and sera combined

Ashamed to do this but tagging @randosfandos for the attention (they're the only person who'd be interested in this lol)

[polysprachig]

11.04.2024 | outrage and (/at) punctuation and crass editing

Currently writing translator's notes

When it comes to using different editions of classic novels in language and literature classes I am usually quite flexible. One of the benefits of one-on-one is that we can simply read the divergent texts, pursue the topic within reason and move on.

But when a poetic treatise has been gutted of its original context and its typographical origins so altered as to mar the syntactic relations between the very concepts being proposed, the end result is not a mere question of slight discrepancies but a devolution of the highest philosophical and linguistic expressions into complete and utter drivel.

[padfootastic]

Saudade

You can also read it on Ao3

x

Remus knew he was a coward.

It’s why he always preferred to blend in. He couldn’t afford not to. It’s also why, to his eternal shame and regret, he’d never bothered to even question the circumstances of Sirius’s imprisonment. His betrayal.

Because he knew if he looked even slightly below the surface, it’d shatter.

(He’d shatter)

Because he wasn’t just a coward, was he. He was also helpless.

No.

Powerless.

He was powerless.

It didn’t matter if he knew Sirius was innocent, if not of the murders then definitely the betrayal (because he knew, didn't he, that Sirius Black would never—as long as he had breath in his body, magic in his veins, life in his heart—do anything to hurt James Potter. It was a fundamental truth of life. There were five exceptions to Gamp’s law of elemental transformation, the sun set in the west, and Sirius was unfailingly loyal to James. Isn’t that how it's always been?)

Because even if the truth was not what it seemed, he couldn’t do anything about it.

So he lived his lie. Didn't bother to look past the newspapers blaring the inevitability of a Black turning to the dark side. It validated his own feelings, his mistrust, his circumstances.

It was a profoundly selfish act, but it was all Remus could do.

x-x-x-x

There was…one moment when he tried, just the bare minimum, really, in hindsight but it was enough to, if not soothe, then push down the constant guilt gnawing at him.

“Mr. Lupin.” Dumbledore looked down at him through his half moon glasses. “What can I do for you?”

Remus didn’t know whether to appreciate the even tone or not. In the past month, his entire life had collapsed around him. He’d gone from being part of a whole, one of four, to completely alone. Even putting one step in front of the other was getting too much for him and on some days, he forewent even that small action. Laying in bed, contemplating his entire life and how it went so wrong in less time than it took to blink—that was all he had the energy for these days.

So to hear Professor Dumbledore refer to him like that, almost pleasantly, as if they were still back in school and Remus had just bumped into him in the corridor—it was equal parts relieving and maddening.

He chose to ignore that for now, though. He had enough going on without discovering new things to be bothered about. Not like he had the energy for it, either.

“Headmaster, I—“ Remus gulped nervously. Now that he was here, it felt much more daunting than he could have imagined. What would he even say?

“Yes?”

Remus took a shaky breath and tried again. “Professor, are you—is it completely without doubt that Sirius—“ He couldn’t finish the sentence but he knew the other man understood what he was trying to say.

“Mr. Lupin…Remus,” Dumbledore started gently, and already Remus was regretting this little excursion. “I know the past month can’t have been easy for you. I wouldn’t even presume to understand how bad it must’ve been. None of us thought that Mr. Black could…” He trailed off, eyes staring at a door behind Remus. He didn’t think he’d imagined the sadness that flashed in his eyes, a meagre reflection of his own agony.

It was only a momentary slip, though, as his eyes hardened and steel coated his next words. “But what’s done is done, despite the tragedy of it all. Mr. Black made his choice, and now it is time for you to do the same.” He gave a sad smile, a damning one that spoke of his finality in the matter. “It is always harder to be the one left behind, Mr. Lupin, and your fate is one I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. I can only hope that you find the strength I know you have in you, and use it to move on from this episode.”

Remus could only sit there, stunned and numb and feeling like his skin was tearing itself apart from the inside, the way it did on full moons except worse.

An episode, Dumbledore said, as if he wasn’t talking about his family, his entire life. As if this was a schoolyard skirmish, an encore of that horrid ‘prank’ in fifth year, one he could forget if he so wished to. As if it was that easy to carve away the parts of himself that were entwined with the rest of his brothers (which made up most of him— mind, body, soul, and magic). As if he would even want to.

Remus didn’t try again after that, not with Dumbledore and definitely not with anyone else. If the man who was their leader seemed so sure, then who was Remus to go against his word?

(He’d never regretted anything more in his life, perhaps with the exception of the belief that caused this in the first place)

x-x-x-x

They didn’t talk about it.

At first, there was the whole thing with Pettigrew and being on the run and everything that came with it. Once that got sorted, though, there was no excuse other than it was easy.

Easy to ignore the ache in his heart when the distance between them reared it’s ugly head.

Easy to turn away when he saw the way Molly and Dumbledore treated Sirius in his own house, because isn’t that what he’d been doing so far?

Easy to stay away, altogether.

Sirius never brought it up either. Perhaps on purpose, too, because the pain in his eyes never lessened. Remus could pick out multiple instances where he opened his mouth to say something before abruptly shutting down.

That was another difference. Pre-azkaban Sirius wouldn’t have hesitated like that, not with Remus.

It only drove the knife further in. But did he have anyone to blame but himself?

It was just after Hogwarts had closed. Harry, who’d finished his fifth year, had gone back to the Dursleys but not for long because in a turn of events no one could have predicted, Sirius’ case had completely upended itself in the aftermath of the DoM debacle. Remus still didn’t like to think about it, how close he—they’d come to losing Sirius (again) and how it was only sheer dumb luck—a rock that made him stumble sideways instead of back—that saved him from falling into the Veil.

Perhaps the only positive of the evening was the Minister seeing Sirius Black fighting unequivocally for the Light and against the Death Eaters. In Remus’ opinion, it would be quite some time before anyone forgot the image of escaped inmate Sirius Black laughing at Bellatrix Lestrange in a strange parody of his actions fifteen years ago. The cold laughter juxtaposed with the deadly spells he’d been aiming at his cousin was enough to stun everyone not in the know and that was how an enquiry had been conducted into the case, leading to where they were today.

Remus, however, had spent every minute he could hiding away, even more than before. He couldn’t bear to show his face at Grimmauld Place—the idea of seeing Sirius actually sent a wave of shivers down his spine.

But, as he’d always known, his time did run out.

x-x-x-x

“So are we talking about this then?” Sirius’ voice is tired, perpetually exhausted as it seems to be these days.

They were sitting at the dining table, cups of tea long gone cold in their hands. It was the first time in months Remus has allowed himself to be in the same room as Sirius (it shouldn’t be like this. it never was before. how did it all go so wrong) and the other man wasn’t stupid. Even if Remus hadn’t initiated the conversation, he knew they’d have it. Of course it was Sirius who poked the sleeping dragon. He had always been the braver of the two. Of course, if it was a competition, then James Potter would’ve come leagues ahead of either of them, his passion and intensity unmatched.

(But James isn’t here right now and that’s really the cause of half their problems, is it not?)

Sirius was…quieter, more focused, but plenty brave enough. If Remus allowed himself to think about it, it’s no surprise he brought it up first. In fact, it’s more surprising that he hadn’t so far.

Still. “Talk about what?” he regrets the words almost as soon as they slip out of his mouth. Sirius only looks at him steadily.

Of course he knows what this is about but it’s easier to cling to what you’ve been hiding behind all this while, is it not? But is it fair, to him? More importantly, is it fair to Sirius? Does he not deserve an honest answer, an honest friend?

It’s that which pushes him to try again.

“I-I didn’t mean that.”

“Sure you did, Remus.”

“Alright,” he amended. “I shouldn’t have meant that.” And that at least is true. It gets a wry smile out of Sirius.

“There’s a lot I shouldn’t have done,” he continued, which neatly drives the mirth away. Remus looked down, at his fingers, the bitten down nails and ink stains, so he didn’t have to stare into the consequences of his actions.

‘I should—apologise.”

“Do you want to?”

His head snapped up, the sting of the comment settling under his skin like an itch. How could he think—? One look at Sirius’ face, however, devoid of any malice or cruelty, and the indignant feeling in him dies out as quickly as it rose.

It was a fair question. He hated the fact but couldn’t deny it.

How would Sirius know about the hundreds of hours he’d spent screaming and crying and begging someone, anyone to turn back time, to make things better, to give him a second chance?

Sirius couldn’t know about the time Remus hadn’t been able to get out of his house for seven months, two weeks, sixteen days straight, surviving only on dry crackers and tepid tea and stale bread and feeling guilty for doing so. He’d spent the entire time staring blankly at the sickly green wall of his bedroom, living in a haunting loop of his memories and wishing he was back in them.

Sirius hadn’t seen any of that.

(Would it have made a difference, if he had, Remus thinks. They weren’t indicative of anything but his own guilt, certainly didn’t stem from any moral conviction in Sirius—and what value did it have for someone who was being tortured day and night? living with the knowledge that he’d been left behind without so much as a second thought?)

It’s not something he’s thought about before—in those fantasies where everything is as it was before. Sirius apologises, Remus apologises, they hug it out and it’ll all be better again—but now, now he can’t help but wonder about the efficacy of platitudes.

He hated Sirius’ matter of fact resignation even more, like there was no other way for Remus to react except defensively. (It wasn’t always like this. The Marauders, James & Sirius, they’d always been his biggest believers. They’d made him capable of touching the sky and the stars and everything in between and Remus has been untethered ever since that fateful halloween. There was a time, when anyone expecting any less of Remus—even himself—than they should would’ve gotten all of Sirius’ hackles raised—‘our Moony’s worth a dozen of you and you should only be so lucky to get to see that’—so it stung particularly bitterly when it was the same man expressing this apathy.

The juxtaposition of the two Sirius’ in his head was enough to give Remus a headache at the best of times, let alone now.

So he takes a deep breath, lets the feeling wash away, and nods.

“You don’t have any reason to believe me, and I don’t blame you for it, but I do. Want to, that is.”

Sirius didn’t reply but Remus continued, undeterred.

“I didn’t for a long time. I didn’t want to, not at all. Because it would be my fault, you know? And I was so tired, Sirius, god. I was exhausted trying to keep up this pretense. I just needed to get the burden off.”

Sirius just looked at him, silent. Remus could see the way his eyes flick around the room, however, and how his fingers trembled ever so slightly. He might’ve been out of Azkaban but the signs would last a long time.

“What made you change your mind, then?” There's a note of curiosity in Sirius’ voice and Remus cannot articulate the relief that fills him at hearing it. Anything, even anger or blame, was better than that bland apathy that made his skin itch.

The question itself makes him pause, however. Because he’s guilty, nay, he’s ashamed of the answer he’s about to give. He contemplated shutting up, or perhaps leaving the room altogether, and it takes longer than it should for him to banish the thought.

“Remus?” Sirius asked again and it’s the knowing look in his eyes that made him close his eyes in defeat. He should’ve known he couldn’t have avoided this. This was a man who knew him better than anyone else who’s alive right now—how could he ever have thought he’d be able to hide things from him?

So he takes a deep, fortifying breath. Releases it slowly, grounding himself in the process.

“When I came to Hogwarts.”

“The time I broke out?

Remus tilts his head in the barest hint of confirmation. Sirius nods like he’d expected that.

Again, Remus wanted to be offended—but how could he?

“How’d you—“

—know?” Sirius finished. Remus nodded, a sharp, jagged thing that’s barely an answer.

Sirius smiled ruefully. It looked wrong on him, like a shirt stretched out and shrunk back down with a charm. “Because I know you, Remus. And though it hurt, I always knew you didn’t believe in me, at least not at the end there.

I’ve had nothing but time all this while. Time to think, to wonder where it all went wrong, what I could’ve done—time even to curse James out,” he lets out a hollow chuckle at that, one that Remus echoes because just the idea of Sirius cursing at James is so absurd, there’s nothing you can do but laugh at it, morbid though it may be in the moment.

“And the only thing I can think of is how bad we messed up. I don’t— you know the worst part about this, Remus?” Sirius asks, in his tired, broken voice. Just hearing it makes him want to flinch and hide away. Instead, he brings himself to give another shaky nod.

“I wouldn’t have cared one bit if you’d thought I was a mass murderer. Hell, even being a Death Eater could be believable under the right circumstances and you were away so long, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d entertained the thought.”

Remus waited for the ‘but’ with his heart in his mouth, tasting ash and regret and guilt. He knew what was about to come, had wondered the same thing hundreds of times, going round and round in circles with no relief to be found.

“But how could you ever, even just for a second let alone 12 years, think I could do that to Ja—“ here, his voice broke, unable to even finish the name. Sirius’ trembling hands clenched into fists, hard enough that he could see the knuckles losing color. The words were just as devastating as he could have imagined, if not more. Coming from another’s mouth and not just whirling in his thoughts, it seemed even more damning in the light of day.

And that was just it, wasn’t it. It was this that confirmed what Remus had known from the moment he’d been made aware of Sirius’ innocence.

There would be no forgiveness here. The most he could hope for was closure, perhaps a chance to clear the air, as it were, and that was only if Sirius was feeling merciful. Which, when it came to James, he seldom did. Remus would know; he’d seen the aftermath of what happened to those who dared touch James Potter.

And Remus? Ne hadn’t just hurt Sirius—that was almost inconsequential in the larger scheme of things—no, Remus’ biggest mistake was besmirching the legacy, the honor of James Potter.

Sirius had destroyed people for far less.

It was this realisation that weighed heavy on him, head bowing until his chin touched his chest, unable to hold it up anymore, not knowing what to say and unsure whether he should.

“I can forgive you almost anything, Remus, you know that. I wouldn’t have cared one whit about anything else but that you could think that—that anyone who knew us could—it was that, more than the dementors, more than the crazed prisoners, more than the taunts and insults and torture, that’s what almost broke me in Azkaban.”

A sob broke out from Remus’ chest, ugly and desperate and entirely unfair on his part. Sirius didn’t need his guilt, nor his despair. Remus didn't deserve to be unhappy in front of him. He had made his own bed and now he was to lie in it. He couldn’t even be happy about the hint of steel he could hear underlying Sirius’ words, a faint echo of his past self. Because the implications it held for him were devastating. Remus knew he wouldn’t lose Sirius completely—they had too much history for that, but he’d lose everything that made Sirius him. He’d been spoiled, allowed into the small, small circle of people Sirius truly let in, and he knew there would be no going back. There would be perfect civility, and amicable conversations, but he’d never have his Sirius back. He’d get the Sirius Black the rest of the world saw, the one with the impeccable masks, who was always in control—but not Padfoot, never Padfoot anymore.

And that was to be his penance.

“I am—I truly am sorry, Sirius. You’d never know how much. I just—I couldn’t—I don’t think I’ve taken one full breath since that night, everything was too fast and I couldn’t think and I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t used to being alone anymore,” he said, leaning forward desperately, wanting to explain (not justify, never justify), not wanting Sirius to leave thinking this was—this was what Remus wanted. because he didn't, never could’ve imagined things ending up like this.

It was almost humbling, this ignoble end of the Marauders. They’d considered themselves untouchable, rulers of the world, sitting atop a throne only they could see. So many promises, a seemingly unbreakable bond, the best of the best.

And look at them now.

All of them in varying stages of decay, dead and dying.

“And I know, dammit I know that doesn’t count for shite. But please, I just—you have to know—“ his hands pressed together, pleading, as the words came out in a defeated plea, “I never meant for it to be like this.”

“The worst part of that,” Sirius smiled, small and broken and not even worth a shadow of his usual brilliance. “is that I know you mean that, Remus. I believe it too.”

A second passed, then two, before he delivered the final blow.

“I just wish you’d fought for us the way we had for you.”

[facingthenorthwind]

AO3 tag capitalisation and why you can't change it

Have you ever tagged your fic in all Title Case and then discovered one of your tags has become all lowercase when you hit save? Or had it become title case when you tried to type it in lowercase? Does this offend your aesthetic sensibilities?

If you said yes to any of these questions, I would like to offer my deepest condolences. I, too, have had this problem. Unfortunately, you can't fix it (except in one very specific situation).

The first time a tag is used determines its capitalisation (unless it becomes a canonical). For example, I'm sure not everyone who tagged kylux au intended for it to be all lowercase, but the first user who tagged it capitalised it that way, and so it remains. This is because the wrangulator (the part of the AO3 backend that handles tags; yes this is what we officially call it) treats different capitalisations of a tag as the same tag, and isn't capable of having it display differently in different fics.

There are two situations where capitalisation can change: firstly, it could become the exact phrasing of a canonical tag. This is what it's called when a tag becomes filterable and multiple tags that mean the same thing (called syns) get connected together and all redirect to the canonical. For more info, you can read this post I wrote! All canonical tags get changed to title case when they're made canonical, because the tag edit page that wranglers can see enables wranglers to change the capitalisation of a tag (it also allows us to change the diacritics, but not anything else). If your tag is a synonym of that canonical, its capitalisation does not get changed, only if you've used the exact phrasing that later becomes canonical (for how to tell what kind of tag something is, please see the post I linked earlier). For example, if I was the first user of the tag "obi-wan on tatooine" and typed it all lowercase, it will remain lowercase even when the tag wrangler syns it to the canonical "Obi-Wan Kenobi on Tatooine". But if I was the first use of "obi-wan kenobi on tatooine" and typed it all lowercase, when it's canonised it will change appearance on my work to be in title case. Tag wranglers will never change the capitalisation of your tag in any other situation.

Secondly, if you are the only use on an unfilterable tag (which means it has not been synned anywhere), it is technically possible to change the capitalisation if you decide that you want to change how it looks later. In order to do so, delete the tag from your work. Then wait approximately 24 hours (give it a few more for leeway) and tag your work again. You should be able to now tag it with different capitalisation. The reason you have to wait 24-ish hours is because of a part of the wrangulator called the rake. The rake deletes any unfilterable tag that has zero uses (except if it's used in a tagset) approximately 24 hours after it's made. Notably, any tag that has been synned to a canonical does not get raked. If you want to check if your zero-use tag has been deleted yet, you can search for its exact text in tag search. If it still exists, it will be a search result and show (0) after it. If it's been deleted, it won't show up at all. It's important to note that just because an unfilterable tag shows up in tag search with (0) after it, that doesn't mean it will be raked in the future! These are usually tags in a tagset, which don't disappear. A tagset (example) is used by people running challenges for participants to have a pool of tags to choose from. There is no way to determine whether a tag is in a tagset, not even as a wrangler! You just have to assume it's the case if it never disappears. And remember, if anyone else has used the tag you're trying to change, it won't work!

So in conclusion: sorry about the tag that is the wrong capitalisation. You almost certainly can't fix it.

[writtenbygracewilliams]

Peerages & Titles: everything you need to know

[A heavily researched 6.5k+ hyperfocus from my Google docs, to help your fanfics]

Disclaimers:

Sources are not consistent. You’d think they would be. They are not. I’ve corralled several reliable websites and books into something that I think makes sense, is accessible, and fits [largely] with portrayals in Bridgerton/modern media.

That being said, Bridgerton/modern media make mistakes. You might notice in reading through all this that there is something different to how it is portrayed in media. Feel free to discuss with me, I could very well be wrong, but also know that you are consuming fiction and this is intended to be fact.

However, whilst trying to be correct, many sources are modern and it is difficult to confirm how titling and forms of address may have changed in the past 200–300 years. Though, I imagine not greatly given the peerage and aristocracy still exists.

Where possible, I have used Bridgerton characters as the examples so that it is easier to make sense/contextualise it. Names in red are not characters, just placeholder names. Hence I have reduced, reused, recycled these names.

On the note of using names from within the Bridgerverse, the Marquess of Ashdown was not married when we met him. I’d also like to know what Julia Quinn has against Earls and Marquesses, Marquesses especially.

Second note of using names in the Bridgerverse, I refuse to use Baron of Kent because it is a factual/historical disaster. More on that here.

This only applies to aristocracy of Britain/UK [minimally Ireland, read here], if I do more of Europe/anywhere else I will link it below but let me know if you want that.

All of these posts may be edited/expanded at any time as my research continues.

Further posts:

General info, start here!

Glossary

A brief history of the peerages/titles

The different peerages [England, Great Britain, United Kingdom, Scotland, Ireland]

How royal titles work

Peerage applications and functions in the modern day

Privileges of the peerage

How titles apply to the child of peers

Rank and precedence within the peerage

Titling rules for non peers

Other roles and titles I can give address information for

Female inheritance of titles

Territorial designations, and when the surname differs from the title name

Haven’t decided if I will do a post on grammar rules when writing peers because despite studying etiquette and titles for over a decade, and linguistics and grammar for seven years, the grammar/capitalisation rules of writing peers broke my final straw of sanity. Let me know how much you want it, or just drop any specific questions.

Put any questions about any of this in my ask :)

–GW xo

[webcomixwastaken]

Honestly, every time I see someone insist they need AI for writing, be it for getting an idea or drafting their piece or even basic grammar my instinct is to say:

"Just... GET GOOD."

Like, have no ideas? Then read more books in ALL sorts of genres, styles, and authors. Even read different age groups (if you only read YA but are over the age of 20, I promise you there is plenty of Adult out there you will love. Find it. You deserve it.) Do the same for movies, shows, and plays. Go to festivals and exhibitions and concerts. Dabble in different hobbies to observe and talk to people, all sorts of people. EXPERIENCE LIFE, that's how you'll be inspired to write about it. Know the world and how you feel in it beyond what the internet tells you to. (Also, you'll find out that your "brilliantly unique concept" has likely been done before and that your personal life experience will be the thing that makes it genuinely unique.)

Think your writing is bad? AI can't make it good for you. AI is a shitty writer. If you want to write I assume you like to read. (If you want to write but don't like to read then you have an incredibly tough, nigh impossible road to "being a good writer" ahead of you.) Again, read as widely as you can. Fanfic alone will not help you unless you only want to write fanfic which I do know applies to a lot of people. There's a fantastic thread floating around here that explains why writing for fanfic vs writing original work for publication are very different spheres. And as someone who reads a bunch of both, the best fanfic still has structure, character development, and actual plot, very similarly to books. (This is very much my subjective opinion, but I despise "no plot only vibes" -- to me both are integral to a good read. This 100% applies to tradpub too; the social media trope-focused marketing annoys me to no end. What is your story ABOUT?? If you can't tell me I have no interest in reading it.)

Instead of taking the shortcut that is actually sending you back to the start anyway, just... GET GOOD. And you get good by BEING BAD. Compose some trite purple prose nonsense rife with cliches. Have all your characters be shameless Mary Sues. Or, as I see the most often in early writers, be pedantic and repetitive as fuck because you don't know that you're doing it yet until after a year or so you look back and go "why the hell did I talk so much about this irrelevant thing? it totally disrupted the momentum of the scene and doesn't even develop character." And then, you'll realise that you've learned how to edit! Congratulations! You must understand that AI doesn't know this. AI is just plagiarising a couple hundred thousand people. AI has no brain. Don't trust it. Don't even play with it. It is a pathetic zombie concoction that only causes damage to others and the environment. Trust YOUR BRAIN. You are SO MUCH SMARTER. You KNOW what you want and like, you have way better ideas and images you want to convey. And in time you will know how to convey them accurately and compellingly in a way that sounds like you.

And finally, AI for grammar and spelling? Hoo boy do I have some opinions. Well, just one. Which is to simply GET GOOD!!

People bitch that English is a difficult language to learn but hey! All languages have their rules and nuances, so that's merely subjective! Whatever language you want to write in, learn those rules!! Seriously, just GET GOOD!! it's doable! I do it! In fact, many people do it and have DONE SO FOR YEARS.

Honestly, I don't use ANY kind of grammar software beyond the basic spellcheck automatically built into browsers and word processors nowadays (the ones that give you wiggly lines while you're typing and even then I rarely right click to accept since I find it faster to simply retype properly) because I KNOW MY SHIT. I know how to construct sentences, use consistent tense, punctuate properly, and capitalise or italicise or utilise any other convention of the English language I wish to follow or break because this is my craft, and I know how to shape it to become what I want my work to be.

So here is where I expect people to be all like "but what if I'm NOT a native speaker of the language huh huh??" Well, you're choosing to write in this language though. Do your level best -- and here is where I will say that this grammar stuff IS the most forgivable aspect anyway. Spelling errors or janky phrasing never hurt anyone when we can tell it's coming from a place of true diligence and effort, in fact one of my favourite fanfics of all time was set a summer camp and the NATIVE ENGLISH SPEAKING author wrote "councilor" until about chapter 20 when they asked us, utterly mortified, in the notes why nobody had corrected them (because the plot and characterisation were immersive AF and felt like it came from a real person with real experiences). Some of the most poetic syntax and delightful descriptions I've come across were from people writing in not their first language, or even second or third -- children and adults alike, still learning and still TRYING because they took this shit seriously and were putting in their all.

This is the part that I personally cannot comprehend (but in a practical way I do, only because I see it EVERYWHERE) of people claiming that they just can't "get" grammar and need some brainless software running on codes and algorithms to "correct" them - don't you want to be FREE of this dependence?? Wouldn't you prefer to write KNOWING that it says what you WANT it to say instead of hoping that maybe 30% will remain after a program strips it of voice and style (and then because you're no longer paying attention, it also makes your sentences just WORSE and not "succinct" at all)?? Don't you want to be grown and confident with SKILLS instead of whining for help (which just boils to someone doing it FOR you, not actual help) all the time???????? Like seriously!! Have some self-esteem!!!!! You deserve it!!!! GET GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have been teaching fiction writing as my day job for nearly a decade now and when my students fret over their sub-par skills I always ask them how old they are. Because they should know that 9 year olds aren't supposed to spell everything correctly. Instead, they're supposed to make mistakes so they can learn how to fix them. Then, they should practise and practise and practise until they're 19 and realise that the habit has developed so beautifully that they're finding it HARD to make mistakes!

And if you're 29 and still struggling, no it's not too late. The best time was to start 20 years ago but the second best is now. Writing is pretty much a lifetime gig so keep going, and GET GOOD!!

[s-grunge]

ok dang now im curious as for your reasons for disliking both sierra and sugar? im asking out of curiousity, not trying to start anything ^^

All good and to preface this, I don't fully dislike either, there's actually a lot to like about both, I just happen to be pretty uncomfortable with an aspect of their characterisation, or rather, their conceptualisation.

(Edit 31/7/24) Did some rephrasing, much more content with how the post reads now.

For Sierra.

It started as a kid watching WT for the first time. Traits of hers really made me feel like I was watching a twisted, distorted reflection of myself, both with neutral and negative similarities. For context, I was sensitive to and tended to internalise criticism towards my character and appearance.

She was obsessed with td, I was often called "obsessed" with my special interests.

Her favourite contestant was Cody as was mine, so I felt like I couldn't like Cody lest I be compared to her.

She tended to be depicted as out of touch with reality, I was often alluded to be "off with the fairies",

Other small similarities, like how I even often wore my hair in the same style that she did!

Of course, I didn't think she was a caricature of *me* specifically, but of people like me. Seeing this character, who was a very exaggerated embodiment of many of my insecurities at the time made enjoying the season very tough for me when I was younger.

Nowadays, that isn't so much an obstacle for me, and her objectionable traits can lend themselves to good narrative potential (which the show never fully capitalises on).

A lot of my grievances with her nowadays is more meta-contextual than anything else, but they are still grievances;

That she's a caricature of the fandom, but in a way that seems mean spirited as though it's punching down.

^She embodies too broad a range of things; She's a lovably cringey (in a good way) reflection of internet fandom in the late 2000s, but she also did some pretty heinous things reflecting the small but notorious percentage of people in fandoms who are genuinely creeps.

^^Because of that, it feels like her worst actions drag down the former demographic she's reflecting, who were (and are) constantly getting punched down on with these very loaded associations with the latter.

Her worst actions feel too heavy for the show to handle with tact, and the show makes no attempt to do so anyway.

More subjectively;

I feel like her actions impeded on Cody's arc, and pretty much any opportunity to show his capabilities independent of her (and how that contributed to the fandom's harsher perception of him post WT). "Sierra carried Cody through WT" she sure did, and it's a shame because I'm firmly of the belief that Cody could have done quite well on his own with a more fulfilling arc to boot.

To be honest, the humour she provides can be very hit or miss.

Sierra has a lot to like about her, but there's also a lot about her that makes me frustrated and uncomfortable.

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

For Sugar.

Literally just that she's an unflattering caricature of a real person (who was a child) and that makes me uncomfortable. That's it. Nothing the character did herself majorly contributes to any negative feelings about her. Divorced from real-world context, the character is perfectly fine.

[ryanyflags]

Mspec/multispec cenelian related vesil terms :> ✨✦

MspecCenelianVesi / VesiMspecCenelian : a term under the vesil umbrella, in which many or all parts of ones identity are affected/defined by being mspec cenelian.

BiCenelianVesi / VesiBiCenelian : a term under the vesil umbrella, in which many or all parts of ones identity are affected/defined by being bi cenelian.

PlyCenelianVesi / VesiPlyCenelian : a term under the vesil umbrella, in which many or all parts of ones identity are affected/defined by being ply (poly) cenelian.

OmniCenelianVesi / VesiOmniCenelian : a term under the vesil umbrella, in which many or all parts of ones identity are affected/defined by being omni cenelian.

PanCenelianVesi / VesiPanCenelian : a term under the vesil umbrella, in which many or all parts of ones identity are affected/defined by being pan cenelian.

AbroCenelianVesi / VesiAbroCenelian : a term under the vesil umbrella, in which many or all parts of ones identity are affected/defined by being abro cenelian.

MspecCenelianVesi can also be called MultispecCenelianVesi/VesiMultispecCenelian.

(The terms' names are capitalised like that for easier reading / making the names clearer. They don't need to be capitalised like that when actually using them.)

──────────✦──────────

The colours come from my mspec cenelian alt flags.

I edited the colours of the sparkles a bit to make them go nicer together / avoid eye-strain.

──────────✦──────────

Vesil Masterpost

[nikethestatue]

Any thoughts on the new website, etc? I wonder if there will be an announcement for a new book/series/or show?🫣🌸🌌

(Apologies if you already fielded this question)

I like the appearance of the site--it looks nice. I like the 'Here you are' -- makes me all soft inside.

So I wanna get all excited about the colour, the pinks and the blues, the lilacs and the pretty misty overlays and do I wanna scream 'Elriel!' into the Void. Yeah. Will I? No.

SJM did say years ago that BB would want to make a 'big deal' out of the ACOTAR6 announcement, do I dare hope that this is the first step? Maybe. We've been disappointed many times before, so I am very cautious about all of this, but I am optimistic.

She said months ago that she was in the throes of writing the next ACOTAR book, so I think she should be about done with it? Maybe already in editing?

Could they do something crazy and announce the book on January 31st? Who knows. But I think the turnaround time will be quicker, because I am assuming they'd want to capitalise on the success of HOFAS and keep the momentum going, if the info is really pertinent to ACOTAR. Selling two books back to back, and 'requiring' reading one series in order to read ACOTAR is pretty good marketing. So it would logically make sense.

[intheorangebedroom]

Pleased to meet you

The random HC edition!

Happy Frankie Friday, everyone!

I am very sorry this next chapter is taking so long. You can blame the fucking holidays that played with my mental health like it was a Kendama. It may not look like it, considering the length of this silly post, but I'm actively working on it.

As I've stated before, I have way too many HC about this story. Here are some, completely random, no one will care about. Enjoy!

[series masterlist]

(and please, why is his fucking belt UNBUCKLED)

Frankie

If you really want to know my Frankie, you can read this near extensive love letter, which was originally closer to a 10k ramble. Here's a few extra details (there are many more stored up in my sick brain).

Frankie will tell you that his favourite book is not The Master and Margarita. Don't believe him. That's a lie. Instead, he'll argue that it's In Cold Blood, by Truman Capote, All Quiet On The Western Front, by Erich Maria Remarque, a close second (which is a nod to myself about my next story). He also loves Gabriel Garcia Marquez. He used to read a lot more when he was in the Army, nowadays not so much, somehow.

His favourite movie genre is science-fiction, and his favourite movie of all time is Close Encounters of the Third Kind (can you guess why?) He also has a particular fondness for Solyaris, Sunshine and Monsters. And in a couple of years (PTMY is set in 2014-205) he will love Prospect (do I need to link that?). He also loves documentaries, especially the science ones.

His favourite bands are Jefferson Airplane (Grace Slick's voice does things to him) and, well, Fleetwood Mac, which is a sort of fandom consensus for P boys that they all like FM, right? His favourite song is Dusty Springfield's Windmills Of Your Mind, which he never told the boys because they would give him hell. It reminds him of his mother.

Izzy would like him to be more in touch, culturally speaking, with his Argentinian roots. But it's a very complicated topic for him. Argentinian cuisine is, however, by far his favourite (he loves good meat).

Frankie has a thorough, obsessive mind. When he gets into something, anything, he wants to know everything about it, understand how it works, break it down and rebuild it entirely, and he will spend months, sometimes years, fixated on the same book/movie/object/painting... woman.

Benny

Benny has never been much of a reader. But he's a music connoisseur with eclectic tastes. He's always looking to discover new music, and his favourite app is Radiooooo. Please don't talk to him about CDs, he will hurt you, vinyls are the only way to listen to music if it's not live. He has far too many favourite bands to list (and even I don't know most of them, they're too obscure).

His favourite movie genre is HORROR (capitalised because when he tells someone, it is always excitedly, and in a very loud voice) and his favourite movie is The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (close second: An American Werewolf in London). I have it down to his favourite scene, in case you're wondering just how crazy I am.

Don't let the golden retriever demeanour fool you, he's a very sharp, insightful movie watcher, he can break down any given scene for you and he has a passion for makeshift special effects.

He'll eat quite literally anything, especially if it has eggs or cheese in it (he's actually a very good cook, but you don't want to clean after him), but his favourite dish is his mother's mac & cheese, because he's cute like that.

Will

A word on my Will. He's a very refined, educated, sensitive man. A man of cold logic and rich inner world, complex thoughts and curated emotions. Will is an iceberg. We only see 10% of him. There is this original wound in his childhood only Ben knows about (it's a family thing), but one day in the near future he will tell Reader. He's a dreamer, and a romantic, as well as a very practical man, which in his unique case is not mutually exclusive. He and Reader are very alike and insanely close, I cannot stress that enough.

He enrolled after 9/11 because he thought it was his duty and he sincerely believed he was going to make a difference. He crashed so hard when he realised what was what. Still, he soldiered on, pun intended, because he had committed himself to the job. He is, as he himself puts it, a warrior, but he would have made a damn fine architect or artist.

When Jean left him, she broke his heart. It didn't make him bitter, however, on the contrary, he developed more empathy (which might come in handy... 👀). He is the only one who acknowledges the traumas they all went through and sought treatment for it.

He's not too big on movies, but his favourite is Citizen Kane (which Reader ADORES. I have so many HC about her, because I suck at reader's insert and she's a complete OFC without a name and a writer with the courage to formally declare her such). He likes classic rock and Debussy and trusts his little brother to make him discover new sounds.

ETA: His favourite novel is Anna Karenina.

Seriously? I've never loved a man so much while being not remotely attracted to them.

Santi

I'll be honest here, Santi is a bit of a mystery to me, and I spend just as much time trying to decipher him as I spend imagining Frankie's or the Millers' childhood (don't worry, I will spare you. For now).

We know what kind of music he listens to. Music for motivation, if you ask me. It's less about the tune itself than setting the mood in which he needs to be.

I believe he likes food. Good food. He will not, unlike Benny, eat anything, very far from it. His job is his life. But he does like to travel for leisure. Also, total lack of imagination on my behalf, here, but he's from Guatemala.

He and Frankie met first, at the very beginning of their military careers, but Frankie became very close with Will and even more so with Benny when they met later on. Santi and Frankie have a deeply rooted yet looser bond. They can go for months without talking to each other, but will very naturally pick up where they left off. Benny is Frankie's best friend. For now, at least.

Tom

Name one person who cares. Not me.

***

Now ok, I hear you, you're screaming at your screen "did I just read a shittone of useless stuff I never asked for in the first place???" And please, mind you, I'm sparing you the HC on Izzy, Rosie and Yovanna. I'd just like you to know that Izzy's bi.

So to atone for that, I will tell you how the PTMY boys fuck.

Frankie

Frankie fucks with a vengeance. It's an outlet. A necessity.

However, nothing will happen until he's got his partner's explicit consent. Another consensus about Frankie, he is very respectful of women. It's in his nature, and Izzy did a very good job educating her little brother as a feminist.

His first kiss was Brionna (you better believe he got the girl he wanted. And she never regretted having him as her first kiss either) and his first time was with one of his sister's friends, Selena. He was a scrawny 15-year-old, however already very... charming, and... motivated. She was 19 and slightly condescending at first, like “ok, you cute, I'll take your virginity.” Let me tell you, she was in for quite a surprise. She certainly didn't expect him to make her come. This hard. Twice.

Like I said, obsessive and thorough... When he started being into girls, he downright studied the subject so he could master it and be the best. Not competitively, though. He's too selfless. He's a very tactile, sensory person. He needs to taste, inhale, touch. When he cares, his hands are on his partner, always.

Oh and Izzy got super pissed at him for fucking her friend.

Yes, his favorite meal is 🐱 and yes, he will make his partner come multiple times before he does anything else, but when he's done with that, he will turn them over and fuck into them at a punishing pace. That's why, in the darkest period of his life, he favoured intercourses with professionals. Who he also treats with the utmost respect. Over the years, 🐱 eating has become a quest. He's always and forever looking for your taste. And as he does, he'd rather not see his partner's face, so he can forget he most likely will never taste you again...

But it wasn't always like that. In college, he was literally drowning in 🐱, as word quickly got out of his prowess. And he was exceptionally soft on Pilar, the Mexican girl, the only woman he really ever had a relationship with, and boy, did he break her heart when he left. He had no intention of hurting her, and he tried his best to be gentle, but he felt like staying with her was being dishonest.

And of course, there's you.

Ok, one more for the road, because it makes me sweat.

Benny

Benny's quick (compared to the other ones) but deadly efficient. He's got stamina. He's playful. Sex with him is simple, and fun, and good. Very good. He will make his partner feel soooo good about themselves and their body. He's talkative (likes to let them know what's on the menu before he starts), and he'll be into whatever they're into. He. Is. Game. Toys? Alright! You wanna be tied up? Why not! You want him tied up? Let's go!

Oh and he's a tits man. And he likes ALL of them. Any shape any size any colour.

Will

Ah. Will. Will would rather be in love. But, you know. You can't always be. This said, no matter the circumstances, he will be entirely cued in to his partner, careful to please and to pleasure. Completely selfless as well. Also great stamina. Guess it runs in the family. But when he's in love? Phewwwww... When he's in love, his moves belong in a museum. It is ✨art✨

Santi

Santi is in for the performance. He's a showman. Which at times gets in the way of the result, despite him being a very good partner. Yovanna exposed him, on this one, though. Saw right through the bs and told him as much. And thus made him a much better lover...

I mean. Look at him strut... 🙄😏

Tom

Has a micropenis.

Alright, that's it! Are you still alive? Thank you for reading!

Trying my best to have chapter 13 ready by next Friday.

Taglist (thank you 💕): @elegantduckturtle @mashomasho @lola766 @flowersandpotplantsandsunshine @nicolethered @littleone65 @bands-tv-movies-is-me @the-rambling-nerd @saintbedelia @pedrostories @trickstersp8 @all-the-way-down-here @deadmantis @hbc8 @princessdjarin @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos

[abandoned-as-mustard]

my current pet peeve, and especially the grammar autistic in me, is reading a second book published by the same author, but realising that in the one year between them, she decided to stop capitalising the 'G' in 'Oh my God'.

i know it's some kind of trend these days to not bother with it, particularly if you don't believe in God and don't see the need for it, but that phrase in particular, with correct grammar, recognises that the 'God' IS A PROPER NOUN SO CAPITALISE IT, DAMMIT!!!! Grammar doesn't change based on your feelings!!!!

the fact that editors allow this is particularly bothersome. As you can see here, my argument is not from a religious perspective, but from a matter of PROPER EDITING and this is why i should be an editor maybe.

[spell-cleaver]

The Protégé Chapter 35: Fighters Like You

Conversations are had, a truth is revealed, and... at least one person is forgiven?

When Leia was summoned by her parents again to a strategy meeting, she already knew what it was about. Every Rebel in the galaxy must have seen the Empress's transmission by now. She didn't bother avoiding the topic when she marched into her mother's study.

Breha was sitting behind her desk, staring at the datapad she must have watched the broadcast on. Bail was pacing. Leia took the chair he had vacated and got right to it. "How does this change our situation?"

"It doesn't," Breha said. "Not practically."

"Practically, no," Bail agreed. "But it does change it. The galaxy is in uproar about the news. If even a hint of suspicion is leaked to the holonet that Alderaan may have been the ones to kidnap the darling new prince, we will have much more to worry about than just Vader."

Hearing Vader referred to as just Vader really hammered the danger home. "Why?" she asked. "Why has her speech been so effective?"

"Her propaganda campaign is unyielding. She has heartfelt interviews, pictures of Luke edited to be as appealing as possible. He had already been a fairly popular figure as a senator; she's capitalising on that. The amount of references to her motherly love and how important family is, to her and to the galaxy… it's a potent mix for most citizens. We should know."

Read the rest on AO3 or on FFN!

[marietheran]

LotR reread - book 1, chapter 0 - the (three!) Forewords

Note on the Text:

My, the textual history is complicated even taking into account just the works published in his lifetime.

Tolkien's publishers pampered him tho, letting him revise and revise the book again and again.

Mmm... I remember being very fascinated by all the mentions of the earlier versions as a child. Now, I know some of the information relied here by heart, but I miss the wonder

Yes, I was the sort of person who reads introductions even at ten years of age; I will admit I'm flipping through now, though.

Note on the 50th Anniversary Edition:

"Personally I have ceased to bother about those minor 'discrepancies', since if the genealogies and calendars etc. lack versimilitude it is in their general excessive accuracy: as compared with real annals and genealogies!" Apparently he had visibly not "ceased to bother", but it's still a helpful attitude to try out as concerns such minor slips in the legendarium.

Hmmm... I kind of get why "Dark Power", "Dark Lord" etc. instead of "dark power", "dark lord" buuut I'm still rendered uncomfortable by those capitalisations. My language does not capitalise "devil" and I'm likewise of the opinion that evil does not merit capital letters.

Foreword to the Second Edition:

Yes! LotR is "an account, as it were, of the end and passing away [of the older world] before it's beginning and middle had been told"

"Foresight had failed and there was no time for thought" - even when writing of his own life, Tolkien takes on an epic tone...

Just - the mention of Christopher being sent chapters of LotR when in the RAF and my recent learning that life expectancy for RAF pilots was measured in weeks :( How Tolkien must have felt...

^Just more evidence for my connection of "We shall laugh together yet" and "If you ever return to the lands of the living... laughing at old grief" but that's book 2

Allegory vs applicability!

"To be caught in youth by 1914 was a no less hideous experience than to be involved in 1939" - well, for Englishmen. But I have long ago realised that Western Europe views WW1 which gave us independence as a catastrophe near that of WW2, and possibly with some reason.

I thought to include the prologue with this post, but it seems it must be a separate one, because this one sprawled out very far.

[succubusphan]

Two Man Team - Chapter 4

Summary: This is the story of two struggling friends who after many trials and tribulations find their way back to each other and build the life they've always dreamed of.

Or how Phil changed his life by talking to random strangers on the internet.

Rating: E

Tags/warnings: Friends to lovers, Friends with benefits, mental health issues (mainly anxiety), Slow burn, Dan is a psych student. Canon divergence (the timeline is altered and some things never happened), Slutty Phil, Angst with a happy ending. The fic spans many years.

Author's Note: Written for the OSPBB 2023 @oldschoolpbb. Thank you @effingmeteors for being my life saviour and beta as usual and to my artist Lin @anironsidh.

Edits and the art will be added at some point, we are busy bees.

POSTING EVERY DAY UNTIL IT'S COMPLETED.

Total Word Count: 75k ish

Read on Ao3

CHAPTER 4: We Should Be Friends

May 2010

After they’d posted their first collab a few months prior, their YouTube channels had started to receive a lot more attention. It was very evident that people preferred their chemistry and energy together rather than apart, so they decided to capitalise on that as often as they could. Why not? They had an amazing time filming together anyway.

During Phil’s first visit to Whockingham, he and Dan decided to give pinof (like everyone, including themselves, began to call it) a mighty counterpart, not a sequel, but… a different twist on the concept, this time on Dan’s channel. The questions were quite different from those they received for pinof, or as Dan put it, they were the same fans but they found it easier to express themselves on his channel. That might’ve been true since Dan received creepy mail from them often, while Phil got drawings and cute things for the most part.

A surprising aspect of sharing their friendship online was that people really shipped them. They didn’t say it out loud at first, but then the conversation started shifting from fans speaking to them to fans speaking about them, usually in places where Dan and Phil could easily see it, like Tumblr and Twitter.

It was no big deal at the time so they decided to carry on without paying the shippers any mind as long as they were not rude or super invasive.

---

January - June 2010 

Moving back home with his parents after his master had been good the first few months. He even felt that he had a better relationship with his dad. It’s not that he didn’t love Phil, but he’d had so many expectations that didn’t align with what Phil wanted whatsoever, so there was no way Phil was going to fulfil them. The cordless hammer drill he’d given Phil for his birthday was testament enough of it.

Phil could be many things but the so-called ‘manly type’ was certainly not one of them. He was sensitive and he wore skinny jeans and eyeliner - and he liked men. But still, he felt a bit closer to his father now that they had shared a home as adults for some time.

Phil threw himself back onto his old bed and let out a huff. He felt like such a couch potato but he didn’t want to see anyone or do anything. As of late, he just felt like sleeping all day and playing games all night. His family was not fond of the little routine he had going but at the same time he was 23 years old, it’s not like they could tell him what to do like when he was a child. On the other hand, they were still his parents and this was still their home so the situation was a bit strange. 

He was an adult, but he still wasn’t any good at it. It was as if he hadn’t fully developed yet and he often felt like everyone else had things figured out except for him. Anja had a good job and lived with her girlfriend. Most of his childhood friends had moved out and were able to support themselves - even Richard - and Phil was finding it hard to find a steady job.

He had a gig editing… “Adult videos” for the summer but then he was done. 

Phil’s stomach growled, reminding him that he had refused to go down to eat all day to avoid his dad and the talk he so eagerly wanted to have. He had managed to put it off for nearly 24 hours but if he didn’t eat something soon he was going to faint - again.

Huffing, Phil sat up and regretted it immediately when his world spun. He took a deep breath and got out of bed, making his way downstairs with one hand to the wall to avoid falling. He walked into the empty kitchen and thought luck would be on his side this time, but when the microwave dinged announcing that the leftovers were ready, his dad appeared seemingly out of thin air.

“I thought you were never going to come out,” his dad joked, making Phil feel like shit for avoiding him.

“Sorry, I was just sleeping,” he said, grabbing the plate from the microwave and sitting at the breakfast bar.

“Are you sure?” his dad asked suspiciously, eyeing him carefully. “You look pale and your dark circles are only getting deeper.”

“Jeez, thanks Dad.” Phil rolled his eyes, already angry, even if he didn’t know why.

His dad raised his hands and took a small step back. “I’m just worried about you, that's all.”

Phil let out a small sigh. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m still tired. I’m alright.” He pushed the rice in his plate around, not really eating anything. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Your mum and I were talking a few days ago and… we are wondering what your plans are - for the future,” he said, finally coming to sit next to Phil.

“I don’t know yet,” Phil mumbled, trying to make himself smaller in his stool.

“We think it would be best if you find a job and move out j-”

“You’re kicking me out?” Phil said, dropping his fork and looking at him.

“No, Phil. Well… we know that you don’t really want to live here, but you don’t seem to know what you’re doing. You can’t sleep all day and stay up all night playing games forever. You’re wasting away.”

“I can’t believe you are kicking me out,” Phil said, his voice shaking a little in a mix of anger and hurt.

His dad put a hand on his shoulder. “We are not kicking you to the streets, just giving you a little push. We will help you move and give you money if you need it. And you’ll always have a place to return to if anything were to happen, you know that. We are worried about you,” he said. “And we want to see you do well, living your own life as an adult.”

Phil looked into his eyes.“I guess… you are right. I just don’t know what I’m doing,” he mumbled.

“That’s normal. Nobody is born knowing these things. We have all summer to figure it out - together.”

Phil nodded and finally took the first bite. The rice was already a bit too cold.

---

August 2010

Moving to Manchester turned out to be a blessing. He managed to land a job at the Disney Store that didn’t totally suck, and he had his very own place. His flat was basically a shoebox on Jefferson Place overlooking a prison but he didn’t have to share with anyone for the time being. 

Well, he wasn’t officially sharing with anyone, but as Dan had promised in one of his YouTube videos, as soon as he started uni at Manchester, he “dumped all of his shit” at Phil’s and visited as often as he could. It was amazing to have his friend so close by, he was a great source of entertainment, and it kept Phil from going insane or staying in and getting cabin fever - if you could get cabin fever by living alone in Manchester. 

Dan had helped Phil so many times in his life, just being there, being his friend and listening to his weird rants, and Phil was glad to have the opportunity to pay Dan back by being a bit of the voice of experience when it came to uni matters, and to provide Dan with a quiet place to study, or to have a breakdown when he needed it.

One fateful afternoon, barely 10 minutes after Phil walked in from work, the doorbell rang and when he opened the door, he saw Dan, soaking wet with a huge pile of laundry in a trash bag, lips trembling and eyes filled with unshed tears. 

He knew better than to ask, so instead, he pulled Dan into a hug and grabbed the bag from him slowly, setting it on the floor. “It’s ok,” he mumbled into Dan’s hair. “Go sit on the sofa and I’ll make us some tea.”

“Thanks,” Dan said and made himself at home, taking his spot on the sofa, just like always.

Phil put on the kettle and set the cups on the counter before putting the first load into the washer; it looked like it would be probably three. “Are you having laundry problems again?”

“I’m having all sorts of problems… laundry is only one of them.”

“Anything I can do about it?” 

Dan let out a huff and stared at the ceiling. “I guess… I just don’t fit in - anywhere. I thought this would be different, no rocks, no punches in the locker room, but it’s still the same. I’m still too fucking lame to make friends, my roommates are insane, people still gossip about me and I hate most of my classes. What’s the point of studying psych if I can’t figure out my own fucking problems?”

“You are cool, Dan. If your roommates don’t like you, that’s on them. You are one of the kindest people I know, who wouldn’t want to be your friend?” Phil asked, pouring the hot water into their mugs and bringing them over to the coffee table very carefully before sitting at his side. “Just hang out with other people, you don’t need to be their friend.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you make friends so easily.”

“I don’t, not anymore, I think. It was easier when I was a kid and I didn’t realise people found me weird, and then I figured out I’m gay and nobody else was,” Phil said, thinking back to high school. “Well, Anja is a lesbian but I didn’t know that until much later. I’ve been awkward all my life, but I eventually learned to pick the right people and to leave the judgemental ones behind. If they don’t like me, I don’t like them either.”

“You have the best personality ever. Anyone who doesn’t like you is crazy,” Dan said after a long pause.

“Well, that’s how I feel about you too,” Phil said, patting Dan’s knee. 

“Thanks, Phil, really,” Dan said. “You’re a good friend.”

Phil nodded and tried to keep a straight face. “Now, about the laundry-”

Dan pushed him. “Shut up! Someone just took my load out and left it on the floor soaking, I’ve fucking had it.”

“That’s at least 3 loads, it won’t wash properly if you put too much in.”

“Your mum has too much in,” Dan retorted.

“Hey!”

“Fine, you have too much in!”

“Well, sometimes, but good friends keep quiet about it,” Phil said, giggling.

Dan blushed and hit him with one of the sofa cushions.

Their tea mugs sat on the coffee table, untouched.

-----

December 10th 2010

Phil sat on his bed staring at Dan through the pixelated Skype call, restlessly rocking back and forward, fixing his fringe and picking at his fingers absentmindedly. He wouldn’t have even noticed he was doing it if Dan hadn’t pointed it out.

“What’s with you, mate?” Dan asked.

Phil huffed at his computer and consequently at Dan’s smirking face on Skype. “I feel like I’m about to get sick. There’s something wrong with me.”

Dan’s face dropped. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just not normal,” he whined.

“Phil…” Dan said, his tone a clear warning.

“I just - Listen, Frasier got into a relationship, Mark is away chasing some guys from Essex and my other regular just stopped answering my texts. I haven’t had any sex in like two months and I feel like I’m going insane. Is that normal?”

Dan’s eyebrows shot up and he cackled.

“I’m serious! Sometimes I feel like there’s something wrong with me. I feel like I need to have sex constantly or I start getting in a bad mood. People can actually tell when I come back from someone’s house because I’m all smiles and I’m cheerful, then my mood drops as the days go by and now I think my friends are actually avoiding me. Am I sick?”

“I think it’s normal at our age. You got used to always having an option at hand and now your endless supply has run dry. You just need to get laid,” Dan said.

“Well, with whom? I don’t want to go ‘hunting’?” Phil said, meaning going out to a pub and meeting someone new. He was a bit over that.

“Ok, since you are not taking the hint, I will be more clear. I mean me. Do me,” Dan said with an awkward wink.

Phil’s mouth nearly hit the ground. To be honest, he had thought about it but only vaguely since Dan didn’t seem interested. “A-are you serious?”

“Yeah… if you want,” Dan said, scratching the back of his head.

“You don’t have to do this for me if you don’t want to, really. I don’t want you to feel pressured into it, I was just venting,” Phil said, feeling a bit embarrassed but also quite interested. 

“You would be doing me a favour. I am also out of options and we are friends, why not enjoy it, right? It would be fun.”

Phil contemplated it for a moment but smiled and nodded. It would definitely be fun, like everything he did with Dan. It would be great. “Ok, so… when. And Where?”

“Since your parents are in Miami, why don’t I come over tomorrow and help you desecrate your childhood bed?” Dan smirked. “Ever had anyone over?”

Phil shook his head. “Not for sex.”

“Perfect,” Dan smiled.

---

They met in Manchester Piccadilly once again and took the bus to Phil’s childhood home, no extra stops or sightseeing this time. They hadn’t agreed on when it would happen so the anticipation, the tension between them and the little smiles Dan was giving him were driving Phil mad. He wanted to take it slow but he also wanted Dan in his bed immediately.

Phil took a calming breath as they entered the house, taking their coats and hanging them. The silence was deafening. “Do you want to order pizza and watch a movie?” he offered, trying to cut the tension.

“Yeah,” Dan said, looking relieved. He dropped his bag on the ground and went about checking Phil’s new DVD collection while Phil ordered.

Once the pizza was safely on the coffee table, they plopped down on the sofa and pressed play. Phil smiled when he saw the title screen for Wall-e; he had been meaning to watch that movie but he didn’t enjoy movies as much if he was home alone so watching it with Dan for the first time was just ideal. 

The night was a bit of a rollercoaster. They commented along with the plot, marvelling at how cute Wall-e was, laughing at the jokes and nearly choking on the pizza when they thought Wall-e was dead. Dan was fully sobbing at that point but then… then Eva saved him, she helped him get better; just like Dan and Phil helped each other through the rough times.

Without giving it another thought, Phil wiped away Dan’s tears and pressed their lips together, pulling Dan into a hug and rubbing comforting circles on his back. It was a brief and sweet moment but when he tried to pull away, Dan looked into his eyes, buried his fingers in Phil’s hair and pulled him even closer, kissing him again.

Phil gasped and before he knew it, Dan was all over him, kissing him with more enthusiasm than anyone before. He ran his tongue on Phil’s lips, pulling at his hoodie and pressing him into the sofa, their breaths quickening.

Laughing, Phil pushed at Dan’s chest gently until the other paused, looking at him with wide eyes. Oh, how Phil loved those beautiful brown eyes. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said, breathlessly.

“Ok, yeah,” Dan said, helping Phil to stand and running up the stairs, but once they got to the bedroom door, he hesitated, not wanting to go inside.

Phil squeezed Dan’s hand in reassurance. “Hey, it’s ok if you don’t want to do anything. You know that, right?”

“No! I mean - I know that!” Dan said, biting his lip. “It’s not that, it’s just that… there’s something I haven’t told you, something big.”

Phil frowned, trying to guess what Dan was talking about. “What is it? You can tell me anything!”

“You remember my girlfriend, right?” Dan asked. “From high school.”

“Yeah, are you still together?” Phil asked, his stomach dropping. He had honestly no idea where this was going.

“No, no-no no,” Dan said, stalling. “I had a girlfriend but it was like only two months because I couldn’t do it with her,” he gestured vaguely. 

Phil cocked his head at him. Was Dan trying to tell him that he had issues getting it up? He didn’t say anything hoping that Dan would elaborate so he didn’t have to think of something to say without putting his foot in his mouth.

“I couldn’t because… for the last 3 years I’ve been fucking Emily,” he mumbled, trailing off as he went to the point where Phil could barely make out the end of that sentence.

Phil’s face dropped and so did his jaw, his stomach, his heart. “What!? Your ugly cousin???!”

“NO!” Dan said, his brow burrowing into a frown. “Oh, my god! I said EMILIO!... Emilio,” he repeated, this time lowering his eyes to the floor.

“Oh,” Phil said, remembering that name. That was one of Dan’s emo friends.

“It’s over, but I haven’t been able to be with anyone else,” Dan said, barely breathing as he continued to explain himself. “He manipulated me so much, that’s why I didn’t always reply. He was constantly checking in on me and he didn’t want to make it official, but he also didn’t want me to be with anyone else. I don’t even know if I’m gay or if he just damaged me that much. I never thought about it, he just offered sex and I said yes because why would I say no? I was just horny.”

“Oh, Dan,” Phil said, pulling him into a hug. “We don’t have to do anything, you don’t need to prove anything to me or even yourself. It’s ok to take your time to figure it out, you know?”

Dan pressed his face into Phil’s neck, making the next words that came out of his mouth sound quite muffled. “I know, but I feel like - like it’s different with you. I’ve always known you were hot. I don’t need to figure that out, I just didn’t want to keep that secret from you. Nobody knows, none of our friends.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” Phil ventured, letting go of Dan. He needed to know where Dan stood even if nothing else happened between them.

“No, I don’t think I ever did,” Dan said, letting out a frustrated huff. “It’s complicated. There was always so much drama. In the end he stopped texting me and one day he shows up at my door with a kid, because he had a girlfriend in another town and he got her pregnant and oh, and the name of the kid? Dan! He gave the kid my fucking name.”

Phil blinked and ran his fingers through his hair, not knowing what to say. “That’s a lot.” Fuck, that was a stupid comment.

“I know, that’s why I wanted you to know. Do you think I’m disgusting?” Dan asked.

“Dan… for having sex with a guy? I do that! Why would I think it’s disgusting?”

Dan shrugged. “I don’t know… It sounds stupid when you put it like that.”

“It’s not stupid. You’re not stupid,” Phil corrected himself, knowing what Dan meant. “I’m sorry that you felt so confused and manipulated by him. You deserve love and attention and an untainted friendship.”

“Do you think I will ever have that?” Dan looked at him as if Phil held the truth at the tip of his tongue and could simply speak it into existence.

“Yes, of course,” Phil said. “I would wait until you figured out how you feel about your own sexuality before you get into a relationship, but that’s it.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Dan admitted. “I don’t think I will figure it out anytime soon. I’ve been bullied for being gay my entire life when I didn’t even know if I was gay or not,” he said. “But I still want to try with you, if you want. I feel trust you enough to know that everything will be ok.”

“Are you sure?” Phil asked.

Dan nodded and pressed their lips together. “Please,” he mumbled against Phil’s lips. Somehow, after the difficult talk they’d just had, Phil could tell that Dan was more relaxed and confident, so he let himself be guided to the bed and undressed at Dan’s pace, trusting him to know what he wanted. 

Dan took a step back and looked at Phil’s naked body with hunger. “Do you have lube?” he asked.

Phil scrambled to open his nightstand drawer, making sure to put the different lube flavours and types as well as condoms at the top.

Picking one of the tubes, Dan stared at the label. “Cherry?” he asked, quirking one eyebrow.

“The flavoured ones are only for oral,” Phil explained. “Those don’t mix well with condoms.”

Looking at Phil’s cock, Dan smirked. “Actually, that’s an amazing idea,” he said, uncapping the lube, pouring way too much of it on his target and sinking to his knees. 

Phil felt a bit at a disadvantage being the only one naked, but once Dan’s lips enveloped him, all his hesitation went out the window. Once Dan started to bob his head and use his unfairly huge hands on Phil, he knew he was in trouble. Try as he might, it was embarrassingly fast, but it made Dan super proud of himself if his wolfish smile was any indication. 

Then it was Phil’s turn to undress Dan and explore his body, taking his time to learn what made him gasp and what made his toes curl. Feeling a bit competitive, Phil used every one of his tricks on Dan, pushing his buttons one by one until he was trembling, and only then did he take Dan cock in his mouth as far as he could take it without gagging and swirled his tongue around. Phil went tortuously slow, edging Dan until he was begging him and finally finished him off by hollowing his cheeks and taking him down his throat as he massaged his perineum, making sure to swallow every single drop.

Dan gave him a bewildered look. “You swallowed.”

“I did,” Phil smirked, rubbing his teary eyes with pride. It was the first time he had managed to deepthroat anyone without gagging, but he was not going to admit that to Dan.

“I don’t usually do that,” Dan admitted. “I don’t like the taste.”

“That’s perfectly fine. You don’t have to,” Phil said, his voice a little hoarse. “I don’t usually do it because it’s not ideal to do it with people you don’t know.” He lay down at Dan’s side and laced their fingers together. “It’s good to get tested every six months or so anyway, if you are active at least.”

“I never got tested,” Dan commented.

“You didn’t know, but now you do,” Phil smiled. “And you know I’m clean because I got tested last month.”

Dan nodded and turned towards him, laying one leg over Phil’s before leaning in for a kiss. It was sweet but deep and it lasted for what felt like forever. It made Phil’s head spin, reminding him of their first kiss, just over a year ago. The kiss that had definitely made an impact on him but left so many questions too. At least now he knew the answer to most of those questions, except for… what it all meant for Dan.

Phil turned towards him and pulled him closer, pressing their bodies together. He smiled into the kiss when he felt Dan’s hard on pressing against his. “Already?” he murmured.

“It’s your fault for being so hot,” Dan said against his lips.

Phil felt one of Dan’s arms reach for something behind his back but didn’t think much about it until he felt Dan’s slick hand wrapped around both of their cocks. Phil hissed at the cold feeling which felt strangely nice mixed with the touch and the warmth coming from Dan’s gorgeous body. He let Dan do as he pleased as their bodies moved in tandem, their kiss turning into a symphony of gasps and moans, the pressure slowly building within Phil as his orgasm surged. He tilted his head, kissing Dan’s neck and feeling him twitch as he let out a high pitched moan.

“Yes!” Dan hissed, as he began to tremble, trying to keep some semblance of a rhythm as he approached his orgasm.

“So hot,” Phil mumbled and bit Dan’s neck, perhaps a bit too hard. 

“Fuck!” Dan moaned, his back arching as he came all over their chests, his hand going a bit lax until Phil wrapped his hand around Dan’s and both of their cocks and thrust into the fist. 

Dan’s over stimulated whines only added to the fire. With a few more thrusts, he joined Dan, coming even harder than before.

“Lester,” Dan panted, a smile on his lips. “You’re a demon.”

Phil laughed, trying to catch his breath. “Maybe I am.” He buried his face into the crook of Dan’s neck and hummed, falling asleep shortly after.

The following morning, Phil woke up first and crawled over Dan, pulling a pair of joggers and a hoodie on before going to the bathroom to rinse his body and brush his teeth. He wanted to make Dan breakfast but he needed to look presentable; well, that and nobody likes to walk around with dry come all over their body. He made a mental note to avoid falling asleep without cleaning up next time.

It wasn’t anything fancy, just a bit of fruit and cereal. He was almost done and about to carry the tray up when he decided to add toast and eggs to the menu. It was fairly late anyway.

He walked into the bedroom and stopped in his tracks. He was shocked to find Dan gone and was considering checking the bathroom when he felt a pair of arms wrapping around his waist and something hard pressing against his ass, causing him to nearly drop the tray to the ground. “Jesus!”

“It’s just Dan, but if you want to worship me I’m in.”

Phil laughed. “I’ll worship your mum,” he said, setting the tray on the bed.

“I was hoping to worship yours.” Dan wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Actually, shut up!” He nudged Dan’s chest gently.

“Alright, alright. I’ll worship this gorgeous ass,” he said with a hint of a question in his tone. 

Phil could tell that it was a joke but perhaps also a request. “I’m in if you want.”

“Really?” Dan squeaked, his eyes a bit wide.

“Yeah!” Phil said with a smile.

“Ok.” Dan let out a happy sigh and looked much more relaxed after Phil’s reassurance. 

They sat sideways on the bed, resting their backs against the wall and started eating breakfast. Time escaped them as they sat there for three hours without them even noticing, eating and chatting about life, especially everything that Dan had been stressing about - and kissing. In fact, they kissed so much that their lips were sore and puffy, and Phil was sure they would fall off at one point or another, but that didn’t happen. 

An incredible feeling of happiness and inner peace filled Phil in such a way that he couldn’t stop smiling. He had honestly never felt like this, like his heart was going to crawl out of his chest. He briefly wondered if Dan felt the same, but even if he did, he knew that Dan was never going to admit it, not yet anyway. So instead of asking that, he decided to go with a different question. “Did you have fun last night?” He asked, setting the tray on the floor and scooching closer.

Dan got really quiet for a moment but his smile never dropped. “You know I did.”

“You know what I mean. Like, in general. How did you feel?” Phil pressed a bit.

“It was… the best. I could do that every day,” Dan said, being serious for only a moment before he smirked and continued. “So you better keep up, Lester. I’m going to wear you out.”

“We’ll see,” Phil said, smiling and biting into Dan’s neck without a warning. The whine Dan let out was evidence enough that he had won.

They eventually rolled out of bed and showered separately, so that they could actually wash up properly and go to the cinema. He scrolled on Twitter while Dan finished straightening his hair and saw the tweet from the previous night. 

@danisnotonfire: All I can taste is cherry, all I can smell is cherry, all I can hear is cherry and all I can feel is cherry. Can’t really see much though.

Phil snorted and shook his head, giving it a like before shutting his computer. They were almost late to see Paranormal Activity at the cinema. 

---

They talked animatedly about the movie as they made their way back home through the snow. It had been a freaky experience but still super fun. Dan had clung to him the entire time even though Phil was just as scared, but it felt good anyway. 

Phil hesitated before opening the door, Dan was giving him such an adoring look that it made him almost want to kiss him right there, in the street, where his prying neighbours could definitely see them. Almost. He shook his head and unlocked the door, letting Dan walk in first and watched him turn around on the spot and give him a look that made Phil’s heart skip a beat.

They threw the wet outer layers to the floor right by the door and sprinted upstairs. 

Dan didn’t waste time taking over, undressing Phil and removing his own clothes swiftly. There was electricity in the air, but this felt different somehow. 

Dan was in his element, all confidence and poise. “Suck,” he said as he made Phil sit on the edge of the bed and stood before him, and Phil did. He wrapped his lips around Dan’s half hard cock and used his tongue to tease Dan until he’d had enough. Dan pulled his hair lightly and climbed over him without a word. This was a side of Dan that Phil had never seen, he was almost feral yet methodical. He kissed every inch of Phil’s body that he could reach as he prepped him, using perhaps too much lube and pointedly avoiding any contact with his cock, but when Phil finally asked him to get on with it, Dan hesitated. 

“Everything alright?” Phil asked.

Dan nodded, blush creeping into his cheeks as he pulled his fingers out. “Yes, I just - I want you to ride me. If that’s ok.” 

“Whatever you need, just ask,” Phil said, pressing a kiss to Dan’s lips and letting him settle in the middle of the narrow bed. He made sure that the condom was probably in place and added more lube for good measure before pressing the tip of Dan’s cock to his hole, slowly taking him in, letting out a happy sigh as he bottomed out. He set his hands on Dan’s chest and watched his face intently as he began to rock back and forward first, teasing him a bit, relishing in the smouldering look on Dan’s face. “How’s that?”

“Good,” Dan said, letting out a snort that soon turned into a moan when Phil rose and let himself fall once again. 

Phil smirked and repeated the motion a few times until he got used to the feeling and there was barely any resistance. Once he felt ready to really go for it, Phil shifted his weight forward, resting his hands on Dan’s shoulders and began to ride him in earnest. Watching Dan’s face and hearing him moan loudly was almost better than the feeling of having him inside, he could’ve almost come just from the view before him.

The bed was creaking under the pressure, the headboard slamming against the wall and Phil was in heaven. He’d found the perfect angle, stars bursting in his eyes as the sound of flesh against flesh filled the room.

“Ah! Ah! Phil!” Dan whined, holding onto Phil’s hips, trying to slow him down. 

Phil slapped his hands away, he knew that scrunched up face Dan was making. “Don’t you dare hold it!”

“But I can last a bit longer, I- fuck! I can, I swear!” Dan said, but Phil felt his cock getting even harder.

“Sex is made to be enjoyed, stop trying to hold it!” Phil said, picking up the pace, his thighs screaming at him and his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he was also coming too close to the edge. “Yes!” He hissed through his orgasm and leaned down to bite Dan’s neck.

Dan set his feet flat on the bed and thrust up into Phil twice’s stretched hole before coming deep inside of him.

“That’s it,” Phil smiled, his mind floating. He pecked Dan’s lips. “Good boy.” He felt Dan twitch inside of him at the praise but didn’t mention it.

Laughing, Dan wrapped his arms around Phil and kissed his forehead as he tried to catch his breath. “That was so good,” he said.

“Yeah,” Phil said breathlessly. “We should clean up before we fall asleep.”

Dan hummed and rolled his hips only a little bit, dragging his soft cock into Phil’s sensitive walls.

Phil clenched around him wordlessly and watched Dan flinch. That was enough to make Dan pull out and dispose of the condom.

They awkwardly shuffled to the bathroom for a quick shower that turned into round two between laughs and kisses.

After a much needed bedding change, they got into bed and cuddled up together, showing each other memes and funny videos. 

Phil decided to check Twitter where he saw yet another picture of Stephen and Charlie together. They didn’t even look happy, but it made his mood sour anyway. Then he got a notification from Dan that put a smile right back on his face.

@danisnotonfire: Uma Thurman just watched me have sex.

The fact that Dan added a picture of the Kill Bill poster that appeared in many of his videos made him a bit proud. Dan was not hiding him, even despite all the fans already shipping them together. 

---

December 16th 2010

On a whim, they decided that Dan would stay back for a few more days even after Phil’s parents returned. It was exciting to have Dan finally meet his family after mentioning him so much. It went better than expected: Dan was a charmer, Phil’s mum loved him right away and his dad was friendly as well, although he kept a close eye on them both for some reason. Maybe he could tell, Phil didn’t know if he cared at this point; Dan was important in his life and it was time for some people to know. 

What was there to know? Well, things between them had escalated a bit from how Phil usually did casual sex. There were random kisses in non sexual situations, hand holding, and - most importantly - Dan started to “claim him” publicly. It was not just about the tweets with pictures that were very clearly taken in his room in the middle of the night, or the sexual replies to his tweets. Charlie, for whatever reason, was still an annoyance in his life, trying to make it seem like there was something between him and Phil when he was still with Stephen. Maybe they were no longer together since Charlie had punched him - totally not cool - but the issue was that Charlie wanted to get in between he and Dan at all costs, and Dan had made it very clear that Phil was his, telling him to back off and he even replied under one of Phil’s tweets “I think I have a crush on you.”

It was still very confusing for Phil. Dan didn’t acknowledge any of these things in person even when they were sitting together at the time, but he was semi playing a boyfriend role in his life. For once, Phil tried not to let anxiety get the best of him and went along with whatever Dan wanted, except for filming, he had plans of his own in that regard.

It was a very ambitious project to say the least. “The Interactive Christmas Adventure” consisted of a main storyline with Dan and Phil’s mum as characters in a ‘choose your own adventure’ format and many easter egg type of videos that people could find by clicking in different annotations. He and Dan had an amazing time filming and editing most of it, but Phil was left alone to finish the mystery gifts his friends sent him when it finally came the time for Dan to leave.

Of course, once Dan was on his way back home and the video was posted, Phil proudly sat his family down to watch the final result only to have his dad get the mini video called “Dan and Phil sex tape” on the first try. It was just them goofing around, but it was still a very awkward moment. 

Thankfully, that didn’t ruin his parents’ impression of Dan. They really liked him and Phil couldn’t be happier about that. The fact that his dad had only laughed about it had blown Dan away. He’d told Phil that he wished he had a dad so cool.

[findroleplay]

hello! im a 22nb looking for a (18+) rp partner! looking for someone who writes lit/semi-lit (i dont have a preference for exact reply length, i just prefer a 3-5 sentence minimum). i tend to prefer writing all-lowercase for myself (i use apostrophes when rping, my ooc writing style is very different from my rp style), but i am more than willing to use proper capitalisation for accessibility reasons/partners preference.

i am open to smut, but id prefer to build a story/dynamic around our characters first. angst, fluff, and hurt/comfort are also very welcome. i am open for cc x cc, oc x cc, and oc x oc, and i am open to any sort of pairing (m x m, f x f, m x f, etc.). i am willing to double up, and i prefer to rp in discord servers for organisation (i can make the server myself).

here are my fandoms/pairing preferences:

- chainsaw man: LOOKING FOR AN AKI!! specifically akiangel or aki x (nb)oc rps. i can play angel, galgali, and can also play aki for doubling up reasons/if you would prefer to play angel. HEAVY NOTE: I HAVE NOT GOTTEN TO PART TWO!!! i am reading the manga + ive watched the anime, just havent gotten to pt2 yet.

- death note: no particular preference for ships, open for anything, i just like writing for death note. i have death note ocs (m + f), and can write for light, misa, matsuda, or matt.

- pokemon: LOOKING FOR A GUZMA!! i am seeking guzma x (m) oc here. i can write for guzma (doubling up reasons) and kukui, but this list may grow since im playing several games at once. i am also open to pokemon-based aus for other sources!

- i am also open to original fiction oc x oc! as long as you have a description of your oc, that is ok. art/picrew/faceclaim would be nice, but is not required. i have m, f, and nb ocs.

i have a few plot ideas that i would prefer to discuss with whoever wants to rp, since the ideas are Very wordy and i dont know if tumblr asks have a character limit. again, i prefer to rp in discord servers for organisational purposes, and i can make the server myself (partner would also get admin roles to edit the server).

if youre interested just interact with this post and i will reach out!!

-

[laufire]

WTSA APPRECIATION WEEK (VII) – free choice.

Because WHEN THE STARS ALIGHT is just the beginning, I thought I'd recommend a few other stories by the author. WTSA is a great introduction, but once you've read it, you'll want to know more about the world of THE ESSENCE OF THE EQUINOX! Caution: one of this ("We Will Devour the Night") spoils WTSA!

-IN PURSUIT OF PERFECTION. Amira has always demanded perfection—of herself and those around her. Her quest for absolute control takes her on a journey to the hot deserts of Seraj where rumours permeate that humans may have rediscovered the ancient phoenix. Should its power be harnessed, the fire witches will be unmatched. Amira thinks it time they re-learn who the true supreme being on earth is. This short story, which can be found in the 2022 edition of "Fall into Fantasy", serves as a prequel tale to WTSA. It features Amira, the mother of WTSA's protagonist, and a toxic sapphic relationship that is very fitting for such a fascinating character. -THE SANGUINE SORCERESS. Centuries before the events of When The Stars Alight, Serafina Stilia prepares herself to be sold off into marriage. Descended from an immortal race of demons, their might is plentiful, but their lack of fertility proves to be a crippling weakness against other races in a cursed land of scarce resources. With territorial wars ongoing, the constant demand for fresh warriors weighs a heavy burden when failed births or excruciating death is an almost guaranteed certainty for childbearing. Unwilling to play the role of sacrificial pawn in her society’s imperial regime, Serafina continually strikes out against her violent father’s attempts to control her destiny and turns a lucrative suitor away at the door. However, the suitor is not so easily dissuaded, and her refusal only serves to embolden his determination to possess her. After her reputation is left in tatters by his unwanted advances, Serafina must carve a path to liberation from the fury of her honour-driven father, or die trying. A grimdark novella about one of the best characters in tEotE. Perfect story of rage, revenge, and corruption. -WE WILL DEVOUR THE NIGHT. Twenty years after the events of the first novel, Laila has been slowly prepping for her campaign to become the next Impératrice of Soleterea. Unfortunately, she must also contend with competitors who are attempting to wrangle the throne from her dynasty by capitalising on the negative repercussions caused by that fateful voyage to the north. In the meantime, Darius has settled into his new position as the Rex of Mortos, but his rule has not been without conflict and conspiracy.  When Amira suggests that Laila help herself politically by lending a hand to Darius, she finds herself once more crossing paths with her old lover and confronting the whirlwind of emotions that twenty years apart had done little to settle. Determined to put her feelings to one side, Laila throws herself headfirst into the pit of vipers that is Mortesian court politics in the interest of charming them under her influence. However, Darius continues to have an allure of his own - one that is not quite so simple to resist.  The author is currently posting the chapters in her ko-fi and substack accounts, as an early-release version you can access with a subscription. I recommend checking out her ko-fi, where you can find some additional scenes and short stories set in the same world. "Wasp Stings and Bee Pollen" is a favourite of mine.