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#we all know what's going to happen next

golannie · 9 months

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The latest chapters are so cute, funny and lighthearted....definitely not a good sign😀

#19 days #we all know what's going to happen next #old xian is distracting us #angst is coming

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douwatahima · 2 months

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hey do you guys remember when nbc cancelled hannibal after three seasons even though the creator said he had a seven season plan and due to circumstances no other network could/would pick it up but the fandom continued to thrive and due to their continued support and the love the creative team still has for the project there's still talk about a season 4 revival almost ten years later?

anyway just something to think about

#tv: our flag means death #ofmd #for all we know max could go under next month and have to sell off all their properties for cheap ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#we simply have no idea what the future holds #and even if nothing else ever happens officially you have this fandom until you decide to be done with it #fandoms don't die man none of them do

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completeoveranalysis · 3 months

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[7]

Fai breaks the tension by teasing Kurogane and Mokona immediately joins in, giving Lava Lamp a silent moment to internally process what’s just happened and how big this is for him. How he’s finally had his lifelong trauma listened to by the people he thought would judge him most, and instead just been openly accepted by them and shown genuine affection.

GOOD FOR HIM. HE DESERVES IT.

AFTER ALL THIS TIME, THIS POOR GUY.

And then he turns his thoughts to Watanuki, his other self, and hopes that Watanuki gets to have the same thing happen to him as well. Which is very loving, but rest assured Lava Lamp! Watanuki has his people too.

SHOUNEN PROTAGONIST: RESTORED

Oh but this is such a good summary, bringing it all back around to The Core of all his flashbacks. Now that he's confessed his greatest mistakes and everything he knows, he's been accepted and forgiven and can now finally move forward, continuing on to complete the actions he began so long ago.

This moment here in the Reservoir completes the circle of his life that has happened since his deal with Evil Wolverine: he's fully paid the price, lived out all the missing time, and has returned to the exact place and time he was in when the deal was made.

From here his plot to save Sakura can finally continue, after all this time!

And: END OF CHAPTER!

#Oh but WHAT a chapter!#This chapter is: LOVE #Now we know his whole story and get to see what happens next!#THEY ALL GO FORWARD TOGETHER AS A FAMILY #Liveblogging the reservoir chronicle #Vol 203 #Tsubasa #Kurogane #Fai #Mokona #Lava Lamp Guy #Watanuki #(Presumably) Arc complete!#Next: WHATEVER HAPPENS NEXT #Big climax time?

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marragurl · 1 day

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Saxaphone player Gallagher has not left my mind since the jazz night art dropped AND THEN Robin saying Halovian’s innately have good voices and Sunday used to hum lullabies to her as kids happened in the 2.2 special program, and I’m sure you guys can see where my unfortunate Galladay heart is going with this.

Whoever decided to make this art, I love you. I hope your pillow is cool every night, you’re never stuck in traffic, and your water is refreshing with every sip.

Also the art of Sunday with the White Gentlemen drink in the S.P.A.R.K.L.E jazz night event has also spiraled into me delusionally thinking that’s his go to drink. Which is hilarious since Robin has hinted before that he seems to have a massive sweet tooth in her letters.

(Sunday how do you even make holding a drink menacing, Sunday please get some therapy-)

So imagine this:

Pre 2.0 Galladay, where they’re both wary and suspicious of each other but didn’t do anything outright. Sunday slowly began to visit Gallagher’s bar whenever he had time to observe the Hound, initially on the down low just to get a sense of what he was working with and what to keep an eye on. He always gravitated to that one corner booth that every bar had with the most privacy, and just stalked there for a few hours before leaving. (Smol menacing birb in a tree vibes)

Gallagher obviously knew that Sunday was doing this (even though everyone else seemed to somehow completely miss him, Gallagher wouldn’t be surprised if Sunday was doing some weird Harmony mind tricks), and after the first few “stakeouts,” he bit the bullet and actually approached the table to engage with Sunday, on the off chance this was some weird “test of loyalty” by the Halovian to see if the Hound would swallow his pride to serve his so-called masters.

Nothing terrible happened, but he remained passive-aggressively polite when serving him, and Sunday remained passive-aggressively cool-headed in response. There was some snark of what dear “sweet-toothed” Sunday would want at a bar, and an icy reply of “aren’t you the master drink smith? Why don’t you show me those skills you boasted about?” which led to Gallagher being petty and giving Sunday the White Gentlemen drink, both for the story behind it being such a metaphor for Sunday, and because it was on the more bitter side of alcoholic drinks.

Sunday wasn’t too against the drink; it wasn’t something he would have ordered if it had been his choice, but it wasn’t a bad drink by any means. He couldn’t help but continue to drink it even after Gallagher left his little hidey booth to go back to the main bar, but he’d never stoop so low as to complement the Hound. Of course, he never ordered anything else from then on, only White Gentleman. In fact, over time it seemed to slowly get better, the flavors grew on him, and he couldn't help but look forward to it during difficult nights in the Dreamscape.

If Gallagher tried to needle him into a different drink, Sunday just bit back a “oh? Admitting defeat? I thought this was your best drink for me?” with a little smirk while Gallagher had to use every bit of self-control to not punch him in the face.

As time went on, the bar slowly became a place Sunday frequented to not quite relax, but to get away from the hustle and bustle of Penacony and his duties as one of its main faces. The stresses slowly started piling up, especially with the Charmony fast approaching in a few months and all that came with it.

Gallagher didn’t seem to loosen up regarding his attitude with Sunday, but he did get better at shoving down the visceral hatred he had for everything to do with The Family and Sunday as time went on. He didn’t get soft with Sunday per se, but he definitely kept an eye out for him, and definitely knew when to cut off his drinks on days where it seemed that Sunday wasn’t all that there for their usual veiled comments towards one another when he went to serve him his drink.

It started small, with Sunday staying later and later until sometimes he was the last one to leave the bar to return to reality. Gallagher wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, still wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t some weird long-term test Sunday was devising, especially since he still seemed to be the same ruthless Family member, the same Head of the Oak Family, when Gallagher was working as a Bloodhound outside the bar. For some reason though, within the enclosed space of this strange sanctuary, it was almost peaceful between the two.

One night, there was something wrong when Sunday entered the bar during Gallagher’s shift. He saw a bit of a crowd near the small stage that was within eyesight of his little hidey booth, it seemed some of the musicians of the live band were arguing? He watched as Gallagher came over, seemed to try to speak with the group before honing in on one of the musicians who had been making the most noise and seemed to be about to get physical with the rest. Sunday watched as Gallagher picked up the musician by the scruff of their suit with one hand and carried them towards the doors and lightly tossed them out.

(It was the first time Sunday had actually seen Gallagher perform anything resembling the actual duty of a Bloodhound. It only hit him that he’d only ever seen the other when giving reports, orders, or at the bar. Why was this so shocking to him, he’d seen the man’s arms before, hard not to with his slovenly dress and messy clothing style, as if he couldn’t bother to hide away his imperfections from the world, not like Sunday who refused to be seen by the world, to dare to show one thing off about himself despite his countless failings- he’s getting far too distracted by one meager showing of strength, focus Sunday)

There had always been a live music segment. Sunday was curious to see what would happen with the band missing a member, but was distracted by Gallagher placing his usual White Gentlemen in front of him before heading back to the musicians without a single word to him. Gallagher took a moment to speak with the rest of the band, who seemed to be coming out of their shock and took on worried looks. Sunday could only watch in muted shock as Gallagher went behind the bar and came back with a case, opening it to reveal a saxophone. He then went on stage with the rest of the group, positioned himself further to the side and in the back amongst the shadows within Sunday’s line of sight, and played with the band for the rest of the night.

Sunday couldn’t look away.

He was frozen as he watched Gallagher seamlessly transition from song to song, taking only small breaks to continue serving the other patrons before heading back in. Sunday only remembered about his own drink when his gloves began to get wet from the ice melting into condensation on his glass.

Something felt off within Sunday, and for the first time since Robin’s debut, he couldn't help humming to the music of the band, music that wasn’t of his own sister’s making. He couldn’t help but remember those little concerts the two would have, taking care of his little sister, his only world. He would do anything to keep the Harmony, to keep their family going. When was the last time they truly spent time together? Before he became the Head of the Oak Family? Before he couldn't recognize his own smile?

He was so lost in his thoughts, in memories he thought he buried, that he didn’t realize that it was once again closing time, and he was once again the last one left. He only snapped out of it when Gallagher came by to grab his empty glass, only quirking a questioning brow at him before heading back to the bar.

Gallagher had been keeping a quiet eye on the Halovian that night from the back of the band, in the shadows he felt the most confront in when in the Dreamscape of Penacony. He had watched Sunday’s eyes glaze over, and the only reason he hadn’t felt offended by the seeming disinterest was the look in the other man’s eyes reminding him of his own when he looked in the mirror. The same look of shame, regret, loss, longing, of the wishes to regain everything he had lost. The same look he strove to hide under every bit of the facade he had crafted of this new self, but came back all too often with every reference of the Family found within his prison in the Dreamscape.

Maybe it was the shared nostalgia within his own heart, that little bit of his true self that he thought died when the Family tore out everything that made him who he was, that made him return behind the bar and begin making Sunday another White Gentlemen, giving Sunday a small nod to beckon him over. He wasn’t expecting anything from it, and he masked his own surprise when Sunday actually left his little shelter to come and take a seat in front of him at the bar. Even while out of it, Gallagher made note of the quiet confidence the other still carried himself. Nothing seemed wrong to anyone else looking at him, only for the lost look in his eyes.

The first time in the many months that they’ve been skirting around each other, and finally they seemed to be face to face.

It was quiet as Gallagher made Sunday his usual drink, a drink he had been slowly changing over the months to be sweeter and sweeter that Sunday never quite seemed to notice, or if he did, he never said anything, only seeming to savor it more each subsequent night. Maybe not even Gallagher noticed his own changes to the drink, subtle as they were.

It was quiet as Sunday took the finished drink, and it was quiet as his eyes slid over the bartop to see the saxophone case laying open with the instrument inside. It was quiet as Gallagher followed his eyes, as he came out from behind the bartop to take the saxophone out and take a seat in a chair only one seat down from Sunday’s. It was quiet as Gallagher began to play to his audience of one.

It was quiet as Sunday quietly hummed along.

It was quiet as they both knew that it would not last.

OK yea so this was all because I heard ‘La vie en rose’ at the end of the Jazz night event and went “Damn I wish that’s Gallagher playing on his Sax” and then we spiraled.

Uh. Idk what it is with me having a small ship moment which then spirals into a full blown writing session. My mind blanked out and as I came to I find out that I made a whole ass little one shot over here then completely forgot about it WHOOPS

So yea, hope my fellow Galladay enjoyers… enjoyed! I think I’ve slowly begun to crave… not domestic or fluff per se from these two, but after every AO3 fic being super dark between them (which I get! They are the toxic yaoi kings of Penacony as of writing this, no one is denying that!) I think I want to see them be explored in a more melancholic sense. Not quite the “forbidden” love angle, but in the “damn we kinda have some parallels, and maybe in another life we could have gotten along but there’s too much baggage and anger, both historically and currently to really even try anything”

I have this feeling this may not be the last time I write about these two… is Galladay going to be the ship that gets me to actually use my AO3 account?

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr gallagher #hsr sunday #galladay #idk what I’m doing anymore #they’ve kinda taken over my mind #shoutout to that one ao3 fic where both of them go “’this wasn’t supposed to happen’ as they’re making out #that’s the exact vibes I’m feeling when I think about these two pre-relationship #of course we don’t run away from angst in this ship #everything follows exactly up until the 2.1 end credits scene #let’s see what happens in 2.2 #I NEED ANSWERS #ALSO MISHA #I WANNA THROW GALLAGHER AND MISHA’S KINDA WHOLESOME RELATIONSHIP IN HERE TWO #idk wtf is going on there #but until 2.2 explains #Gallagher is misha’s weird drunk uncle/dad figure #it adds more comedy to Galladay whether Sunday knows of/can see Misha or not either way #oof new writing idea #next time #I need to work on tagging #this is just another post all on its own

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wigglepiggle · 3 months

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hi phighting community. I had a interesting dream last night with medkit and subspace

it's not really long I just spaced it out so this post itself is long

so subspace and medkit were in white void hell and they're arguing but idk what they said

and then subspace throws his. little pink thing he holds (sorry I'm new here idk what it's called) at medkit

and medkit turns into. a cat.

still had his gear on and everything his gun and med kit were tied to his back

subspace cracks up and this. happens

[MEDKIT]: GOD FUCKING DAMMIT SUBSPACE YOURE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE AGAIN I CANNOT GET A JOB NOW I NEED TO GO TO THUNDERCLAN SO I CAN GET A FUCKING JOB AS A MEDICINE CAT FUCK FUCK!!!!!!!!! I HATE YOU YOU COULDN'T HAVE STOPPED WITH MY EYE? YOU HAD TO TAKE IT EVEN FURTHER? I HOPE YOU DIE I HOPE WE BOTH DIE

[SUBSPACE]: (has the awesome face expression) HAHAHA IT WORKS!!!!! YOU (unintelligible)

is this in character I have no idea probably not be cause I don't really know either of them that well. but anyways the white void gets brighter as subspace was talking there and it was making this high pitched noise so loud you couldn't hear subspace anymore.

and then it got so bright it burned both of their surviving eyes out and they died. their bodies were in the phighting lobby for some reason and vinestaff was there. when medkit died he wasn't medkittie anymore he was just normal :(

I don't know what happened for my brain to make this

#this brainrot is literally insane i have never touched a match in this game yet and ive ALREADY DREAMED ABOUT IT #ITS SO OVER FOR ME this is going to be my next hyperfixation i can feel it happening by the second #it all started because i thought biograft was a cool design... and then i found the wiki... which i then read the dialogue for a couple cha #and then SUBSPACE MEDKIT LORE HAPPENED.#phighting!#phighting #what is the tag. i dont know whats going on here im not even officially in this fandom #do we call it the fandom or the phandom /j #medkit phighting #subspace phighting #my phighting sideblog will be named after this dream hehehe

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coquelicoq · 1 day

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In talking about Chaucer (p. 74), I said that, in general, puns and verbal connections of sound were unimportant and not to be sought out; and now, you will say, I have been using them to explain cruces in Shakespeare. Alas, you have touched on a sore point; this is one of the less reputable aspects of our national poet. A quibble is to Shakespeare [Johnson could not but confess] what luminous vapours are to the traveller; he follows it at all adventures; it is sure to lead him out of his way and sure to engulf him in the mire. It has some malignant power over his mind.... A quibble was for him the fatal Cleopatra for whom he lost the world, and was content to lose it. Nor can I hold out against the Doctor, beyond saying that life ran very high in those days, and that he does not seem to have lost the world so completely after all. It shows lack of decision and will-power, a feminine pleasure in yielding to the mesmerism of language, in getting one's way, if at all, by deceit and flattery, for a poet to be so fearfully susceptible to puns. Many of us could wish the Bard had been more manly in his literary habits, and I am afraid the Sitwells are just as bad.

William Empson, 7 Types of Ambiguity, ch 2 pp 100-101

i'm sorry this is so fucking funny. that pathetic loser shakespeare who loved puns so much it cost him everything, except of course his status as the most famous, most read, most immortal english-language author of all time. but everything else, he lost and it's all because of how weak he was to resist a pun :/ pouring one out for my sad little girly man who could have had it all if only he was better at writing, the thing he is the most famous guy in the world for.

even empson, who disagrees with johnson that shakespeare "lost the world", is like, too bad our favorite poet is susceptible to the thing that made him famous :/ really tragic that the guy whose wordplay we've been talking about for 300 years likes wordplay :///

also i can't get over writing a book about the types of ambiguity and NOT INCLUDING PUNS?? sorry but puns are ambiguous! that's where their juice comes from! imagine liking ambiguity so much you write a book about it but never mention puns except to dunk on them. imagine being a POET and POETRY CRITIC who looks down on sound-based ambiguity! could not be me!!

#puns are a device just as much as any other kind of ambiguity! this value judgment is hilariously nonsensical to me #why are puns bad but other ambiguities aren't? you can't just call them feminine and expect me to be like oh okay in that case #next time my dad makes a pun i'm just going to sigh sadly about his lack of decision and willpower #what a feminine pleasure in yielding to the mesmerism of language i will say. not very manly of you dad :/#i'm annoyed too because one of the types of ambiguity he respects is when one word has multiple meanings possible #in the context of the text. but that is in a sense a kind of pun. he says puns are homophonic but guess what #when one word has multiple meanings another way of saying that is that those are different words that happen to be spelled the same #that is then homophonic ambiguity! aka a fucking pun!!!!#i'm not just quibbling over the exact definition of a pun. i'm saying the boundaries are THAT porous i don't see how you could possibly #like semantic ambiguity as long as the spelling is identical but suddenly think it's facile when the spelling/etymology is different #that's not at all based in rational thinking but he's over here like 'the mesmerism of language is for girls'#pot meet kettle much???#poetry #ambiguity #puns #shakespeare #my posts #there was one other thing i was gonna say what was it. OH YEAH. he also was saying a few pages back that spelling was completely #unstandardized in shakespeare's time...so then why does it matter???#okay and one more thing. he keeps trying to convince me that various verses are syntactically ambiguous if you ignore the punctuation #okay. if we're ignoring punctuation we must be hearing it orally. which means we also don't know what spelling was used!!!!#i think probably he would say he cares more about etymology than spelling. words with different meanings that are etymologically #related are allowed and manly but words with different meanings that came from different roots are a weakness to be avoided #like i'm sorry dude but that is so arbitrary. and you are just cutting yourself off from an immensely rich body of possible ambiguities #by disallowing that kind of wordplay. why would you want to do that????

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