#I always get frustrated when people act like the game being slow is a flaw of game design

[pumpkinrootbeer]

silly joke about cozy games being boring whatever yes but when Rover said I seemed familiar and asked how I'd been, during the worst year of my life where I had lost everything? "Life can throw a lot at you sometimes. But it's not all bad! Today, it threw us together"

yes it's all just a game, and yeah it's "boring" but so many people are lonely and want a community and friendship and the knowledge that no matter how long they're gone, they're still going to have something there waiting for them.

that's the huge secret appeal of animal crossing. a game that promises you friends and companionship and the freedom to have a house however you like and to dress however you want. a mom who will always love you. it encourages you to slow down, to take it easy, to appreciate the little things. that's why people like these games, because they're cozy, because they're boring

[bluefirewrites]

T.Rex, Velveeta, and Other Fun Names

A one shot I made, thanks to @lydias--stiles and @blush-and-books. 

We were talking about what Luke’s middle name could be and it sparked an idea for this quick little one shot (which is neither quick or little actually.)

Could also be read on AO3. 

ENJOY!

____________

Lucas T. Patterson

The madness of this week all started when Julie thumbed through Luke’s journal and found her songwriting partner’s messy scrawl inscribed in the behind the front cover.

Yeah, it was his name, Julie would have griped about how illegible it was and moved on to whatever song she and Luke had been workshopping the day before and thought nothing of it-

If it weren’t for the fact that there was a flurry of deep inset scratches of pen scribbling out the space where his middle name was supposed to be, leaving only the ‘T’ unscathed…

“So I was thinking, maybe we change the key. I thought I was feeling A Major,” Luke rattled off, playing the aforementioned series of chords on his electric, “But now, I think we could really intensify it by flipping to a minor key-”

“What’s the 'T' stand for?”

The ghost looked up, confused, “Huh?”

Julie held up the inner cover of the journal, pointing to his name, “Lucas T. Patterson. The ‘T’- what does it stand for?”

It was a simple question, but all color drained from his face.

“O-Oh. Oh that?” Luke stammered through, struggling to rid himself of his guitar, the skull and rose strap kept swatting his face in his hurry.

She nodded.

He was across the room in seconds, back facing her, pretending to fiddle with the amp settings, even going as far as inspecting Alex’s drums. Thank goodness the drummer wasn’t there right now or else he would be getting a thorough lecture. ("Tell him to stop touching my drums!" extended to his bandmates as well).

“It, uh, stands for my middle name,” he said, still not looking at her.

“I get that. So what is it?”

“It’s nothing,”

Julie rose from the piano bench, traversing the studio until she was right behind him. She forced him to pivot and face her, “No, it’s clearly something.”

Luke gave a dismissive wave and a weak nonchalant laugh, “It’s not a big deal,”

“It clearly is if you won’t tell me,”

Then his head cocked to the side. He cupped his ear, “Uh, what’s that? I think I heard Carlos!”

“What?” She couldn’t hear anything.

“Oh, you need help, Carlos? On my way!”

“He can’t even-”

In a flash of light and warp of reality, Julie was alone in the studio.

“- hear you...”

Oh boy.

Now what was that about?

________________

Ever since then, Julie’s curiosity only grew. Why was Luke so evasive when it came to his middle name? What could possibly be the reason?

With all the secrecy and going great lengths to omit it from his journal, she was betting on it being insanely embarrassing.

Which made Julie want to find out even more.

Luke didn’t get embarrassed so easily, not much to weaponize against him whenever they all made playful jabs at each other from time to time, like the friends they were. Really it was stuff like ‘Beware, Luke this shirt has sleeves’ which basically translated to ‘Haha, you’re attractive’.

Which did not pack quite the punch.

She was determined to decode Luke’s middle name, if not to quench her curiosity then to humble the guy.

He couldn’t be attractive and talented. Something’s gotta give.

(And no, she didn’t often think about how attractive and talented he was… Nope. Not at all).

“Tristan?” she threw out while they were backstage at their next gig.

Luke tuned his guitar, “Nope”

“Thomas?”

“Nuh-uh”

“Terrence?”

He finally looked up, smirking, “You will never find out.”

The tech burst in, phasing through the ghostly forms of the boys, to lead her out onto the stage.

She inwardly cursed. Saved by the bell.

“Break a leg, boss,” Luke wiggled his fingers at her before she was practically pushed past the curtain.

Even when she sat down to play the piano, Julie could not get the image of Luke’s smug face out of her mind. Oh, he probably thought her attempts were just so cute.

Yeah, cute for now.

But she wasn’t done yet.

____________________

“Alright, guys. Help me solve the mystery. What’s Luke’s middle name?”

It was one of those rare occasions where Luke was out of the house, leaving her, Alex, and Reggie alone.

The boys had been present for her previous tries to weasel Luke’s middle name out of him, and they were amused for the most part- Well, never as amused as Luke ‘Thinks He’s All That’ Patterson (not a serious contender in her guessing, by the way).

With their reactions, and however many years of brotherhood shared among the three of them, Alex and Reggie just had to know.

They were all chilling in the kitchen, Reggie perched on top of the counter and Alex lounging at the table. Julie poured herself a juice, waiting on the answer.

The bassist straightened up, “Oh. It’s-” Then he stopped, face scrunched up in a frown of concentration.

Julie directed her gaze at Alex, who was ready to jump in.

“No, wait it’s…” He faltered.

The two boys’s heads snapped to stare at each other as they pieced it together.

“Dude, I don’t think-”

“No. He had to have. I’m just blanking,”

“Guys?”

“Oh my god,” Alex uttered, pushing his golden locks back into his cap, “It took us this long to notice?!”

They were now on their feet, sandwiching Julie.

“We... don’t...know,” Reggie winced, admitting it out loud.

“How could you not know?”

“I don’t think he ever told us!” was the bassist’s defense, “He’s Fort Luke when he wants to be!”

He made the gesture of locking his lips and throwing away the key to which Alex nodded.

“Now I wanna know!”

“Me too!”

Now this was a development. If Luke’s boys had no clue, then it must be really juicy.

Taking a sip from her cup, Julie was all ready to recruit two new members for the noble cause…

_________________

Julie, Alex, and Reggie huddled in a circle at the studio, all bearing notebooks and furiously whispering at each other and scribbling away when Luke decided to make an appearance.

They dispersed, making their collusion all the more suspicious.

“Luke,” They all greeted, with the same level of enthusiasm… at the same time.  

The guitarist eyed them skeptically. Then he took in the notebooks, “You’re having a band meeting. Without me?” he asked, hurt flashed in his hazel eyes.

“No, silly. We’re having a band meeting about you,”

“Reggie!” Alex and Julie hissed.

That only added to Luke’s hurt and confusion.  

Sending him a reassuring smile, she guided him to an empty chair, placed right in the middle, just beyond the coffee table, “Sit down. Please.”

“Okay?” Slow steps and weird stares later, his butt plopped onto the seat, “Can someone tell me what’s all this abo-?”

“Lucas Theodore Patterson?” Alex leapt in front of Luke, reading his guess off his notebook.

Luke’s shoulders slumped, seeing where this was all going.

“Guys, really? You too-?”

“Is it or is it not Theodore?” Julie backed Alex up.

“God no,”

Reggie was up next, “Lucas Timothy Patterson?”

The nose scrunch answered for them.

“Lucas Tyrone Patterson?” as was Julie’s turn.

“No flow,”

And so they were stuck in a circle for the next 20 minutes, everyone taking turns guessing Luke’s middle name, their lists growing more desperate and random as they continued, even going as far as borderline yelling the names at him- that was how frustrated they were.

“Lucas Troy Patterson,”

“No”

“Lucas Trixie Patterson?!”

“That’s not even- that’s not even a guys name-”

“It’s Tyrannosaurus Rex. I’m telling you. It has to be!” Reggie slammed his notebook down, poking Luke hard in the chest with his index finger,  “Admit it! LUCAS. T. REX PATTERSON!”

“Boy, I wish,”

Their guessing game, once the last of the names have been recited, left all of them breathless (even though two of them were ghosts!).

On any other occasion, Luke would have been sympathetic, especially seeing how broken up and defeated they all looked collapsed onto the couch, glaring at him like he was the enemy.

But their fruitless attempts only made him all the more victorious.

“Nice try guys,” he patted each of them on the shoulder before heading out.

Best to give them a break.

Ya know, to deal with the defeat.

____________________

She was nothing if not persistent.

But Julie knew she might have been taking things too far when she had made the trip to Emily’s.

Look, she thought she could just pay the woman a visit, to check up on her, catch up-

Maybe ask leading questions in order to trick her into telling her her son’s middle name?

Yeah, the plan was flawed from the start because how could she so subtly direct the conversation to her dead son’s middle name.

Maybe get her to tell a story about Luke getting in big enough trouble that would have warranted the whole ‘yelling-out-your-full-name’ treatment? Which was a total stretch.

But she didn’t expect it to be the complete and utter disaster that it was.

If Alex and Reggie hadn’t gotten impatient and started snooping around Luke’s old room and digging through his things to find some sort of sign for his name, and if Luke hadn’t decided to intervene, creating all kinds of ruckus in other rooms for his mom to stop and check-

Then maybe they wouldn’t all be sitting on the Molina living room couch hours, getting read the riot act by Luke Patterson of all people.

“I had to tip over my aunt’s vase!!”

“Well, if it's any consolation, your mom always hated that vase?” Reggie chuckled before being promptly silenced by one look from Luke.

Alex spluttered, “But, like, you didn’t have to break it??”

“I did what I had to do,”

“Your mom was so freaked out!”

“Well, that’s on you guys,”

Julie just about had enough with all these games, she pushed herself up from the couch, squaring up against Luke’s unwavering gaze, “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Me?” he yelled, taken aback, “ You went to my house!”

“We just wanted to know!”

“Oh my god!” His hands gripped at his hair, “Why do you wanna know my middle name so badly?”

“I like knowing stuff about you, okay!”

Luke stepped back. Eyes wide.

That-

That wasn’t meant to come out.

Especially in the booming, shrill tone she used.

“Oh…”

Luke was playing with the sleeves of his oversized flannel, the air between them thick and brimming with awkwardness. It didn’t help that Alex and Reggie took this as the opportunity to flee.

Now it was just the two of them in the living room.

Breathing deeply to collect herself because it finally hit her- they were in a screaming match all because of a middle name . Like, Luke wasn’t the only one being ridiculous. It was her too. This whole quest to figure out what the T in his name stood for was so pointless.

They were fighting and Julie didn’t like it.

“And,” she cleared her throat, dislodging the unpleasantness, “there’s something clearly bothering you about it. Just… maybe thought I could help?”

Julie had been kidding herself. Messing with Luke might have been her initial goal, but what bugged her most about not knowing his middle name was the fact that even after all the time they spent together, there were things that Luke still wouldn’t tell her.

He was entitled to keep his secrets, yes, and she still felt bad for spying on him on his birthday. But, they were bandmates, writing partners, friends . She had confided in him a lot and he with her, and they just…

They always had this closeness. A closeness that she appreciated and didn’t take for granted.

And she had acted so recklessly because of it.

Luke nodded, taking it in. He didn’t look mad, but he understood. Julie could tell he was able to get more from her than the words she spouted at him.

“It’s, just,” his voice lowered into a self-conscious whisper, “It’s just something I don’t like a lot of people knowing...”

“I’m sorry. I pushed,”

“It’s okay,” the left corner of his mouth twitched, “You wouldn’t be Julie, if you didn’t” he playfully punched her shoulder.

She gaped at him in mock offense, “Hey!”

“Just saying. Tt’s not the first time you showed up on my doorstep, digging up my past,” she instinctively grimaced but Luke reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, “But I know it’s coming from a good place. Thanks.”

He really shouldn’t be so forgiving, Julie thought. But she was just happy that they could just leave this mess behind them.  

“I’ll get the guys to drop it,” she offered.

That made Luke laugh, “Good luck with that. Reggie’s wearing Alex down. Now he’s seriously considering my middle name to be ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’,”

“If it was that embarrassing, I’d see why you’d keep it a secret,”

It seemed like Luke wanted to say something but shook his head and thought better of it. Instead he tugged her by the hand to the door, “Come on. You never did give me your opinion on the key change…”

_______________

It was months later when it finally came out. 

They were in her room. She was doing homework and he was getting a jump start on their newest song, working side by side on the floor.

Her laptop was open, some randomly chosen Spotify playlist streaming in the background. All was well when the familiar chords of ‘Get Lost’ started playing, causing Luke to visibly tense up.

“Trevor,”

“Right. Sorry, I’ll turn it off-”

“No. That’s…” He sighed and moved into a kneeling position.

Pushing his already opened journal to Julie, Luke flipped it to the cover, where his name was written.

He pointed to the scribbles over his middle name.

Where only the T was exposed…

Trevor.

“Lucas...Trevor...Patterson?”  

“My full name. Ba-da?” his jazz hands fell flat, betrayed by the quiver in his voice.

“Oh,”

“I, uh, never liked how it sounded. And you know how I feel… about things that just don’t flow right”

Julie did. For sure. Scrapped lyrics and melodies were often what happened. Never to be brought up again.

He continued, “My mom would insist on writing out my full name on my notebooks for school- Luke Patterson is already so generic,” and the first genuine chuckle of the night huffed out, “Never used them for class of course. Just to write songs.”

“Tre-Bobby,” she corrected herself “He would have needed proof that he wrote everything...”

“My old notebook. That had ‘Get Lost’ and ‘Crooked Teeth’. Made the mistake of writing it in pencil. It’d be so easy to just-”

Slamming the laptop closed, silencing the song, Julie enveloped the ghost in a hug. He melted against her, hands gripping onto her shoulders from behind, for dear life, the weight of the reveal finally taking its toll.

“I didn’t like my middle name before. Now, I just- I just can’t stand it,” he whispered into her shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Luke”

“Were the songs not enough? He had to steal my name too?”

The ache carried by his voice made Julie squeeze tighter.

She had no words.

What Bobby did, what he took from Luke, was more than she could ever fathom. She didn’t know what to do, what to say to him to soothe the pain.

She only held him.

For as long as he needed.

___________

"How come Alex and Reggie never found out?" she would ask him later.

"Didn't make it habit to show off my journal"

She frowned, "But you let me read it."

Luke, too, had no words in response.

____________

“Hey, wanna go on a walk with me?” Julie asked him out of the blue one evening.

Luke could definitely use a break, especially from whatever row Alex and Reggie had just gotten into. He nodded and took her offered hand.

They took a stroll down her street, hands still joined but hidden in Julie’s hoodie pocket (as to not make it seem like she was grasping at air). The sun was beginning to set over the hills as they could see from their vantage point in the park, their set destination.

Julie seemed to have some purpose for this random walk because she was leading him around until they reached a tree in a more secluded part of the grounds.

Whipping out a pocket knife, Julie replaced her hand in her grasp with the odd tool.

“What’s this?”

“For a while, I lost all sense of what music meant to me. I thought music was my mom. That if she’s gone then there’s no point in going on,”

“Aw, Jules”

Her sunny disposition shone through in a smile, “It’s okay. I had to redefine music for myself. Give it new meaning. Music is not just my mom. It’s my family and Flynn. It’s you and the guys” she shrugged, “It’s me.”

“I would have told you that,” A tender touch to her forearm coaxed an even bigger smile from the girl, “You definitely are music.”

Momentarily distracted by the compliment, it took a moment for Julie to get back on track.

“What I’m trying to say is. I think it’s time for you to redefine yourself. There’s stuff in your old life that you miss, but there’s also stuff you want to leave in the past…”

It dawned on Luke what Julie was referring to.

“That ‘T’ is a placeholder. You could go by a different middle name. You could do whatever you want. You’re a ghost now. You can… move on. So,” she revealed the blade and placed it in his palm once more. She nodded at the tree.

“Go ahead. Go give your name a new meaning, Make your mark,”

Grinning, Luke picked up on her plan and began carving into the trunk, his initials, all three letters representing his name, with each mark easier to craft than the last, imbuing more love and meaning into them, just like what Julie said.

Once done, he admired his handiwork, floored by how cathartic it was, to have his name on something that was gonna last.

L.T.P

He was taking back his goddamn name.

He beheld it with pride.  

“I’ll ask again,” Julie leaned against the tree, tracing the letters with her fingers, “What’s the 'T' stand for?”

With no hesitation he said-

“Thundercat,”

“W-What?” Julie choked.

He lost it at her reaction, “You said whatever I want. I loved that show as a kid!” he giggled.  

“Lucas… Thundercat… Patterson,” Julie so badly wanted to make a comment, Luke could tell. But she changed her mind, “You know what? If it makes you so happy then go for it. Who am I to stop you?”

“Nah, I’ll think of something else later on. But it’s my afterlife. I could go through as many middle names as I want, right?”

“Exactly,”

Luke returned her knife and thought she was going to slip it back into her pocket. Instead, she strode up to the tree and proceeded to carve her own initials right below his.

“There. So your name doesn’t have to be lonely up there,” she folded up the blade and put it away.  

“You know that, uh, couples usually do that kind of thing,” Luke couldn’t help but notice that, with the way their initials were oriented on the tree.

A rosy hue graced the girl’s cheeks, “Oh...yeah.”

A beat of silence followed, just the two of them staring at the tree.

“I like how our names look next to each other though,”

Luke nodded, a warm feeling settling in the pit of his stomach and rising, “Me too.”

Squinting, he read Julie’s initials, “ J.V.M. What does the ‘V’ stand for?”

A devious glint sparkled in her eyes,  “Maybe you’ll just have to guess.”

“Aw come on!”  

She raised an eyebrow, “Oh as if you made it easy for me?”

Ok. She had him there, “Fair enough.”

The whole walk home, Luke ran through all the ‘V’ names he could think of.

“Julianna Valeria?”

“Nope,”

“Julianna Vanessa?”

“C’mon, songwriter. Where’s the flow?” she teased.

Luke snapped his fingers, believing he cracked the code, “Victoria. After your aunt,”

“No. But imagine how mad she was when she found out,”

“Venus, Vanilla, Vaseline-”

“Vaseline?”

They were at her doorstep, and he bounded in front of her, blocking her path, “I won’t give up.”

“I don’t expect you to,”

“Velveeta. Like the cheese”

“It’s Valentina,” she finally said, pushing him aside, fishing through her pockets for the keys to open the front door.

“You got Valentina while I got stuck with Trevor?” She lucked out in the middle name department, that was for sure. 

Of course someone like Julie got shacked up with a beautiful name like Valentina…

“I could change mine too. In solidarity,” she said offhandedly.

“If I go with Reggie’s suggestion: Tyrannosaurus Rex then would you be Velociraptor?”

“T.Rex and Velociraptor?” she laughed in disbelief, finally walking through the threshold of her house. Thank goodness everyone else was already upstairs.

“From this day forth, I will be known Lucas Tyrannosaurus Rex Patterson!” he confidently declared

“And I’ll be Julianna Velociraptor Molina!” she repeated, taking much pleasure in the absurdity of it.

“Were you a dinosaur kid?”

“You saw my slippers and my PJs...”

“True,”

_______

Luke didn’t expect for them to take the whole new middle name thing so seriously.

But if they so happened to greet each other next time with prehistoric roars and with him tackling her onto the studio couch and pretending to bite her like the carnivore he was, then that was for them to know…

And for Alex and Reggie to remain confused about.

__________

Bonus:

And after some years down the line and one magical reincarnation later, Luke decided to change his name again.

“Patterson’s okay,” he said to Julie, “But I think I need something new.”

“Oh yeah? What are you thinking?”

Luke went down on one knee, in front of the tree they marked up when they were teenagers, ring in hand.

“Molina sounds pretty good to me…”

[neonponders]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for tagging me @lazybakerart 💗💋

I’ve got two big writing projects on my plate this week lol but one thing I’m kind of indulging is a break-up/getting back together fic that I actually started in this post, but I’ll share what I have so far underneath the cut ~

(and excuse me while I overshare, because I’m still stupidly proud of this The Mummy_au post that I made if anyone wants a taste of that)

Tagging (if you want) ✨ @ghostofjellyfishforgotten , ✨ @smashmouth-hargrove , and ✨ @withoneheadlight 

(also just a heads up for the wip below: it’s once again me exploring my own asexuality through Steve, but I don’t know how far I’m going to go into it. Still, that might be a content warning people may need if they’re sex-repulsed 🌹)

Ch. 1

Sex with Billy was fine. Good, even.

When they finally moved past every look and touch being a threat veiled in a tease, Steve enjoyed looking at Billy. He enjoyed looking at Billy and discovering those California eyes already on him. He liked Billy’s hands. The man had beautiful hands; strong, thick fingers but...somehow elegant.

He liked Billy’s body, even though he sometimes worried that the guy seemed determined to break it ten different ways. Cigarettes, alcohol, excessive working out, and sometimes all at the same time.

Sex didn’t always mean Steve got to cum. Usually he didn’t, actually. But he enjoyed Billy’s kisses on his neck, and the taste of his tongue, and - admittedly - he loved just having all of Billy’s attention enraptured on him. Steve didn’t mind taking his dick inside because once he got used to it, that felt surprisingly good. When he managed the pleasurable sparks and sensational tingles that mounted into something explosive, he understood why sex was great. But for the more frequent, calm nights, he’d come to think of it as a weird yet pleasant massage.

So he took it. Because it was easier on his hands and knees, for one, and because Billy had a control complex. And Steve could hide his lack of enthusiasm.

Not to say that Billy was selfish or careless. Far from it, Billy Hargrove was an incredibly doting lover. Big surprise, there. Considering how the guy

Well

Existed.

Steve couldn’t really blame Billy for never noticing that he could go a long time without sex. Because Steve liked resting his hand on Billy’s chest while they watched a show or movie. It didn’t matter how much bare skin he had access to. In fact, the more coverage, the better. A clothed body is better to cuddle with than skin that can get sticky or irritated.

Steve liked kissing. He’d always liked kissing. Kissing was the reason he’d assumed he was like everyone else: the desire to kiss, crushes and girlfriends, masturbating, even the giddiness of sex with someone new.

But something fizzled out very quickly in Steve’s brain. Once hands and intent started moving beneath clothing, Steve just...didn’t want it. Suddenly a lot of things popped into his brain that he’d rather be doing. But he persevered because he loved Nancy, and her blooming sexual prowess and bravery was sexy.

Fun.

Billy was a whole big bag of new with an edge of scary that turned out to be more endearing than Steve thought possible. So it was easy to go like that for a while.

Normal.

Eventually he had to admit to himself that he didn’t like taking showers at 1am because he didn’t enjoy being covered in his own, and Billy’s, sweat. He didn’t like feeling the drips on his skin or the tackiness of too many skin oils on his hands.

He hated admitting to himself that he felt relief whenever Billy went out of town for work. He missed Billy, of course, but a lot of things had begun to snowball together in Steve’s life: changing jobs, managing bank accounts and savings, and there were a lot of truths Steve was facing outside of his relationship.

He was tired. Damn tired. He spent many days off wondering if people in their twenties feel this tired all the time or if it was just him. It must just be him. Because Steve sees Robin just as much as he doesn’t. She’s got goals.

And Billy

Billy has big dreams. He’s ready to work damn hard and already is. That’s why he uses his hefty gas money funds, to travel around. Scout the areas. Steve even drove him to the airport once, so Billy could really gain some distance over the weekend. Expand his network.

As if the universe knew, some bigwig passing through Hawkins on their way to Chicago ran right into Billy. A bigwig looking for a handsome, charismatic, young guy to mentor. It really couldn’t be more perfect than divine intervention. They’re Billy’s inlet to the business. Modeling, acting, freaking UNICEF ambassadorial work if he wants to feel extra important. If he gets big enough to have his face mean something around the world.

Within one conversation, he’s got a business card, and an appointment in a Chicago skyscraper next week to take measurements and do a rudimentary photo shoot. The manager warns him that it’s the agency getting to know him, but like any job interview, it’s his chance to interview them right back. Billy likes that a lot—feeling like he has a stake in something instead of just being a corporate pawn. And maybe he eats right out of the manager’s hand, but it’s still a shot. And he’s taking it.

He immediately goes to Steve’s work, fired up from seeing a future for the first time like he finally got the right prescription glasses. The only caveat is that Billy has to move out of Hawkins, which isn’t even a flaw, really. It’s as close to perfect as life’s ever been for him.

Steve can only listen quietly as he sits at the table in the break room. Because Billy’s got big dreams that are already coming true. Every detail of his enflamed speech is given over pacing feet; he can’t even bother to sit at the table. Billy’s got so much energy he’s already mentally and emotionally out the door.

Steve…isn’t. His mental health has been on a downward slope since before they graduated, and it won’t allow him to reach anywhere. He doesn’t have any dreams to steer him in any direction anyways.

Billy’s rant begins to wind down about what he wants to do; his fire about his dreams and his motivation simmers down to an even boil. Steve’s impressed and already proud of the person Billy will become, but Steve can also hear Billy’s frustration with him and their relationship.

For not keeping up.

Steve’s…kind of never been able to keep up. In bed or in life.

And perhaps the saddest part is that Steve doesn’t even have it in him to fight for it. For them. He doesn’t feel worthy enough to hold Billy back. So he doesn’t.

Billy snaps a little, “Why aren’t you saying anything? I’ve been talking about this for the last two years! Steve?”

He’d gotten distracted by looking at his backpack hanging on the wall. Steve’s throat hurt. Two years? God, it’s really been two years already…

He pinched his fingertips over the table as he began, “Billy, I support you. I know you can get there—wherever it is you want to be. I’m not going to tell you to stop or slow down. You’re going somewhere. But I’m…”

He took a breath to finally say it. “Not. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t think I have the energy to figure it out any time soon. You should go.”

Steve can see the disappointment sinking through Billy’s features. And the anger that he’s so used to throwing up as a shield. Billy has so much energy coursing through him as it is, Steve can’t blame him for swinging right into the direction of livid.

The real surprise comes from how soft he speaks. No yelling. No hitting the table. No wrenching Steve up by his green uniform vest. They were long past those outbursts. Which…really just confirmed Steve’s decision. Billy had come a long way. He could go so much further.

“That’s what you have to say? Just like that…you’re really giving up on us?”

Steve knows he’s gaping like a stupid fish. But it isn’t just like that, is it? Billy’s been revving his engines to get the hell out of Hawkins ever since he got here in the first place. Steve tries to say as much, but Billy cuts him off.

“I thought you’d be excited for this. You should be hauling me out of here to pack my bags.”

Steve tries to offer a small smile, but his voice betrays him. “I thought I kind of am? I didn’t take you for the long distance type.”

It’s not the response Billy wants. That should make Steve feel better than it does; the blatant display that Billy wants more of Steve. His excitement, his attention, maybe his companionship…

Steve doesn’t know what he wants—or rather, he does. That’s the issue. Billy’s wants and Billy’s problems can all be resolved by leaving one critical piece behind.

Steve.

Some more things are said, but Steve doesn’t do well on the spot. Especially when the limelight is Billy. Steve fails the tests and he fails the interview. Billy storms out, leaving Steve at the table, pinching his fingertips white before he unconsciously glances at his backpack again.

The backpack full of apartment lease papers. The papers Steve’s already signed because even with his insecurities, the mornings he woke up to discover Billy spooning him after having returned in the middle of the night were his best days. Because Billy’s silly insistence on hand poured coffee was his favorite drink. Because Billy was funny and weird like an artist and loony like a nerd with his video games, and Steve knew—or at least hoped that—Billy loved him the day he started holding his hand while driving that stupid, loud, beloved Camaro—

Because Steve’s heart was a magnet. It stayed where it landed and tugged back even when pulled away.

All he’d needed was Billy’s autograph to be given the keys. Keys to the rest of their lives, if Billy wasn’t already so far away.

Ch. 2

Robin gripped Steve’s arm, hard. A gargled sound escaped him as he grimaced and tried to pry her hand off. Her other hand pointed at one of the catalogues on the store’s many counters. When he invited her with him to pick out glasses, he hadn’t expected to walk out of the freaking optometrist’s office with bruises…

Nor had he thought he’d see a familiar face in the catalogue. Plenty of models were looking editorial chic, advertising that anyone could look as good in whatever glasses they chose.

Except Billy really did look good. The picture was just a vague image outside, the camera focused on Billy’s three-quarter profile gazing off past the photographer.

“I didn’t expect him to actually be working this fast,” Robin admitted. “It’s been…what? Seven months, give or take? I thought casting calls for models were competitive.”

“Not if you look like Billy,” Steve huffed with a quiet mixture of humor, sadness, and just a sprinkle of spite. A sprinkle of jealousy, if he was being honest with himself. The self-help book tucked under the covers of his bed talked about honesty. So he admitted honestly, “He looks that good and knows how to stand out in a room…good for him.”

He could see in his periphery Robin looking up and scrutinizing him. “Really?”

Steve shrugged with a nod. “Yeah. What’s the other option? Him struggling for work?”

Robin sighed and plucked a display set of glasses at random to try on and occupy herself. “That’s big of you, but everyone wants something cathartic. It’s annoyingly impressive that he landed the front cover of a magazine in less than a year.”

Steve opened the catalogue to give them both a reprieve. “You wanna get food after this? Take your mind off the audition?”

For all the good being a band geek did, Robin had experienced her own humbling experiences over the last few months. Like failed auditions to be in city orchestras. She and Steve were feeling very stuck in Kansas while Billy gallivanted around Oz.

• • • • • • •

The plot gets messy because years will actually go by, and Steve and Robin get married so that they can share insurance benefits (and be safe in their bi/lesbian open relationship, buy a house together, etc. It’s the life/happiness security Steve wants but obviously there aren’t any romantic feelings).

Of course this is when Billy happens to reenter Steve’s life. He’s got some hot-shot model he’s been seeing, and apparently Steve is married so there’s the added dash and twist of ~ cheating ~

I’ve been in some kind of mood, all right.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading lol.

[bltngames]

Review: Hotshot Racing

(For this review, Hotshot Racing was played on the Nintendo Switch and the Personal Computer)

If you were to ask me what the most important features of a racing game are, somewhere near the top of the list would be artificial intelligence. Racing games are one of those genres, like fighting games or shooters, where simulating how real human people play the game is vital to the experience. They are inherently multiplayer concepts, even if you’re playing by yourself.

Focus on multiplayer artificial intelligence has waned over the last 15 years. With the rise of the premium multiplayer subscription, it’s more important than ever before to drive players to play matches with flesh-and-blood human beings online. Thus, advancements in “bot” (simulated human player) development hasn’t just slowed down, but in some cases actively regressed. Epic Games, once home to some of the smartest, most robust first person shooter bots in Unreal Tournament, now features bots in their popular Fortnite Battle Royale that fumble around the map with low attention spans and aim like they're blindfolded.

Humans are hard to simulate. The basic functions of a player are easy to emulate -- navigation, aiming, and so on, but it’s the organic logic underneath that proves to be the primary challenge. Humans have lapses in judgement. Humans make mistakes. Mistakes compound on other mistakes. A person wins or loses a given game because of a constantly cascading sequence of decisions, all feeding in to and out of themselves. Whether they realize it or not, every individual person is their own infinite web of chaos. For a computer, which operates in a binary of either perfect success or total failure, no amount of processing power can make for an accurate duplication.

As such, artificial intelligence has to “cheat.” Flaws are introduced into the simulation in order to throw the player a bone. Intelligence almost doesn’t even enter the equation; instead, it’s more about developing a bot that the player simply believes is human, like some kind of a magic trick. It’s a tight balancing act -- if the bot is too good, it looks like an unfeeling terminator. On the opposite, well… compare my Fortnite example up above. There’s a sweet spot that must be hit: smart, but not too smart. Dumb, but not too dumb. It’s easier said than done.

Racing games are a special category here. On top of simulating a human, they must also simulate an automobile, with all of its physical interactions. Tire friction, suspension bounce, weight distribution, and horsepower efficiency just to start. I’d argue that this lends to a much greater tendency for natural mistakes to occur, as the two different simulations (vehicle and player) interact and bounce off of each other. This has led to racing games relying on a handicap known as “rubberbanding.” Essentially, if the player is doing a little too well, the game will start giving tiny advantages to the computer-controlled racer. A boost to top speed, a reduction in weight to improve handling, whatever it takes to ensure the player does not remain unchallenged for very long.

Which finally, at long last, brings us to Hotshot Racing. Developed by Lucky Mountain Games, with assistance by Sumo Digital, it attempts to capitalize on the growing faux-retro-3D trend. It promises visuals to remind you of Sega’s Virtua Racing or Namco’s Ridge Racer, but with decidedly modern vehicle physics and a bit more content than any of those old games could muster.

It honestly makes for a weird first impression. This is a retro-looking game that does not feel like any retro racing game I’ve ever played. Some would undoubtedly argue that’s for the better; like with most sports games, there’s this sense that more simulation is always better. Even modern “arcade” racers like Need for Speed or Wreckfest run pretty robust physics simulations under their hoods, even if they do not necessarily adhere to the rules of reality. But I’ve honestly never seen a problem with this -- I will readily go back to something like Daytona USA or even Stunt Race FX on the Super Nintendo, and never feel especially bothered by their primitive simulations. To me, racing is often more about the sense of speed, how well the controls respond, and the track design than any notion of feeling “realistic.”

That’s not to say it’s really a negative that cars in Hotshot Racing have some vague facsimile of modern weight and “realism” applied to their driving physics, I guess. It’s just something that takes a little bit of getting used to, because seeing these cars drift and sway like the racing games of today is a little anachronistic to the era being called back to. If you still burn a candle for the eventual release of the long-lost Kickstarter darling “90’s Arcade Racer,” know that this isn’t that game. I think it’s fair to say it’s trying to scratch a similar itch, but it’s doing so in a very different way.

One of the more important things Hotshot Racing brings to the table is a roster of personalities to race as and against. When you think of characters in a racing game, your mind probably more naturally gravitates towards something like Mario Kart or some other similarly kid-friendly cartoon racing franchise. For most "serious" racing games, your opponents are unknowable, faceless competitors, but Hotshot gives them voices and identities. Every character in the game has a garage of four cars unique to them, in addition to having their own story to tell. It’s nothing especially deep; most plot manifests in a single cutscene played at the end of a given grand prix, sort of like what you'd get for finishing arcade mode in a game like Street Fighter 2. It’s just a snippet, a taste of what motivated these people and what they’re going to do after winning, but it’s enough.

It goes back to what I said earlier, and how it’s important for the player to believe the artificial intelligence is more than just a computer. Making the racers into characters, with identifiable personalities, faces, and dialog goes a long way to fleshing things out and makes you connect with what’s going on just a little bit better. Or at least, that’s how things would work in theory.

The problem is… well, none of that matters. Put simply, the actual artificial intelligence you race against kind of sucks. In fact, it’s hard to even call them competitors, because your opponents seem to be running a different race where you straight up don’t exist. During any given event, your rival computer drivers seem to be totally blind to your presence, as they will spend the entire race trying to drive straight through you. I don’t know how else to explain it. This isn’t a simple case where the computer drivers are a little aggressive, because they usually aren’t racing to be destructive. They never seem to specifically go out of their way to attack, they just don’t seem to be able to see where you are, and make no effort to react to your presence. You happen to be in their way, so they plow through from behind, ram from the side, and generally just knock you around as if you were invisible.

A side effect to this is something I’ve started noticing in games that bear the Sumo Digital name: computer drivers can hit you way harder than you can hit them back. Whether rubbing against a rival car or engaging in a full-on collision, computer drivers always seem to be able to overpower player vehicles no matter what. In Hotshot Racing, I’ve encountered multiple scenarios where a computer driver shoves me around with little effort, but any attempts to return the favor and my car may as well be made out of styrofoam for how little impact there is. I know Sumo Digital only assisted Lucky Mountain Games on the back half of developing Hotshot Racing, but this has been a consistent element I’ve noticed in Sumo’s Sonic Racing games, too. The computer can be as aggressive (or as blind) as they want, but human players are never allowed to retaliate in a way that feels meaningful.

The worst, by far, is what I mentioned earlier: rubberbanding. “First place” in Hotshot Racing is an often endless war of attrition, where no matter how fast you drive, there are always cars nipping at your heels. Hotshot Racing has a boost system, wherein by drifting or drafting you charge up a segmented meter. Once a segment is full, you can burn it for a burst of speed. I’ve spent 2, 3, even 4 consecutive boosts in a row and the same three opponents were still right behind me, aiming to blindly smash my car out of the way. Hard, medium, or easy mode, it doesn’t matter. They are always there, just a few feet from your rear bumper, magically closing the distance to constantly steal your lead.

From a game design perspective, I understand why rubberbanding exists. It’s to keep the player feeling challenged and engaged. Spending too long in first place going unopposed can start to feel boring. Some game designers view that as a turn off. Races are meant to be battles. At the same time, being able to totally shut out my opponents and gain huge leads makes me feel good. Hotshot Racing robs you of that sense of total domination because of some artificial rule of competitiveness. It’s not that the computer-controlled racers are better than you; they don’t seem to race with any sort of great care or skill. Instead, they catch up and pass you strictly because the Hand of God bends the rules to accommodate them. That doesn’t feel very challenging and it certainly doesn’t feel fair.

That being said, the pseudo-realistic physics mentioned earlier do have their own downside: I found it a little too easy to lose control of my vehicle and spin out. If you brush against a wall wrong or get bumped by a rival during a drift, you often find yourself in a tailspin and unable to recover. Combined with the blind artificial intelligence and the rubberbanding, you have a recipe for getting frustrated. I want to feel confident in my losses, not because I couldn’t predict what Mr. Magoo was going to do next. To add insult to injury, the rubberbanding only gets more prominent as you move up in difficulty, so expect to get spun out more and more as you progress through the game.

There also isn’t a lot to do with your vehicles, either. For many, tuning is an important aspect of racing games, going all the way back to 1989’s “Super Off Road” in the arcades. No upgrade path is available for any of the vehicles in Hotshot Racing, with a basic unlock system geared towards limited cosmetic tweaks. There's tons of tracks to race on, and you constantly earn currency for winning races, but I never cared about spending any of it, because there wasn't much worth buying. Arguably the specific mid-90′s era that Hotshot Racing is aiming at wasn’t really heavy on upgrading or modifying around vehicle stats, but neither were they focused on visual customization either, so it does feel a little arbitrary what they chose to modernize about this experience and what is intended to be a retro tribute.

Beyond standard racing, Hotshot does offer a few alternative modes, but none of them are spotlight features. “Barrel Barrage” has you earning an explosive barrel to drop behind you at every checkpoint until the track becomes a minefield. “Drive or Explode” takes the concept of 1994’s “Speed” and straps a bomb to your car that will explode if you slow down for too long. Finally, “Cops & Robbers” is a confusing push-and-pull where you must steal money as a robber and alternatively wreck other racers as a police officer. Of the three modes, “Drive or Explode” is the clear winner, as it most easily fits into the standard three-lap structure the game centers around. “Barrel Barrage” is merely okay, and benefits more from an increased number of laps, as things slowly get more and more dangerous as you progress. These modes would also benefit if I didn’t get thrown back to the menu after every race; they really needed some kind of Grand-Prix-style playlist.

“Cops & Robbers” deserves its own entire paragraph for what a weird idea it is. It’s less about stealing and arresting and has more in common with the “zombie” modes seen in other games, where everyone gets converted to a specific team until there are no more players left. The idea is that you start with a pot of money that slowly depletes, and you have to race to the next checkpoint to cash out. The faster you get there and the higher amounts you cash out with, the more the cops specifically will target you. Once they wreck your car, you become one of the cops, and it’s your job to wreck the remaining robbers until they all become part of the cop team. Once all the robbers become cops, winners are tallied based on who stole the most money. On paper, this works, because it plays into the game’s slap-happy nature, but in practice I would find myself miles ahead of my fellow robbers and once I finally switched over to a cop, I had to slam on my brakes and wait for everyone else to catch up. By then, the computer-controlled cops had usually done most of my work for me and I lost for... being a better robber than a cop, somehow? It left a lot to be desired.

All of these modes can be played online, where presumably human players would make them more balanced and fun, but finding random pick-up games proved difficult in the time I spent with Hotshot Racing. Now, to be fair, I didn’t try especially hard -- racing games have always been a single player experience for me, as should be obvious by my spiel on artificial intelligence. But I did spend a couple nights trying to match into an online “Quick Race” on the Switch, where I universally came up empty handed. On the PC version of Hotshot Racing (which I received as part of a Humble Bundle), the application completely froze upon trying to start a “Quick Race” lobby, forcing me to ALT+F4 to close the game. For what it’s worth, the Switch version does also include a “local multiplayer” option for playing wirelessly with friends in the same room, and all versions support traditional split-screen.

Despite all of these shortcomings, I just can’t bring myself to hate Hotshot Racing, and it’s hard to pinpoint why. I’m definitely in love with this aesthetic -- the retro visuals, the upbeat music, the blue, blue skies (that I see), it all appeals to a certain part of my brain that likes razor-sharp, ultra-clean polygons. The introduction of named racers with backstories and character-specific “endings” is a really smart, fun idea. I just wish it was more fun to actually, like… run a race in this game. I understand the necessity behind concepts like rubberbanding, but it feels like the artificial intelligence cheats just a little too much, and as a player I don’t feel like I can do a lot to fight back. Running a good race isn’t always good enough.

Some games deliberately incite a feeling of disempowerment in their players, and that can be a totally valid design decision. But should that really be the goal of this kind of racing game? I guess I don’t have an answer for that, but I do know that I probably won’t be going back to Hotshot Racing very often.

[dizzydennis]

Sonic Unleashed on Wii... woof!

Sonic Unleashed is one of my favorite games of all time. It’s flawed, but I really do love everything it has going on... that being on the 360 and PS3. The Wii/PS2 version is an absolute mess!

The game starts with terrible, annoying tutorial stages that are segmented into literal 10 second stages. Chip constantly pops in to teach you about every, single mechanic of the game. It is maddening and he does this all the way up to Shamar!

Boosting is not the same as the 360/PS3 version because Sonic can only boost in small fractions. It’s so annoying and a useless change. The boost also doesn’t go in the direction Sonic is facing, but rather where the camera is pointing which makes it a chore to use it; especially because the game just expects you to not boost on certain sections with no warning. Moreover, boosting into walls gives an admittedly comedic animation of Sonic getting squished. It’s funny like... twice. It’s then aggravating. Does anybody remember that this was intended to be a feature in Sonic 2, but they took it out because it was dumb and not fun? Oh and don’t you dare attempt to boost when you don’t have one of those sections of your boost gauge filled. Because Sonic will stumble and it will slow you down!

The town stages are total jokes and a huge waste of time! Instead of a gorgeous hub world that is fun to explore for each zone, you get these terrible images of a map that you decide where to go. All you have to do is go to specific sections that are marked “New” to progress the story. However, I saw this screen of Chip telling me nobody was in a section more than 10 times. It’s a huge waste of time and gets annoying! This completely kills the impact of the plot and I love the villagers in the 360/PS3 version, but I felt absolutely nothing for them here. There was nothing to enjoy about the town stages. Despite being single images, they were even clunky to progress to the right icon! Progression was clumsy and annoying. There was also a moment when the Dark Gaia creatures attacked Amy and it was like a PowerPoint presentation with really simple quick time events. How embarrassingly crude! You would enter stages and do something only to be tossed back to the map screen with no story consequence. It felt ridiculous.

The Werehog combat is incredibly dull. Credit where credit is due, I love how if you die, the Werehog will be revived instantly. That’s a good change. But the combat is absolutely brain dead in this version. Just mash the L and R buttons on the Gamecube controller. The enemies never, ever makes you think about what you’re doing. It’s just a constant chore and every single time a battle arena spawned, I groaned.

The boss fights are also so lacking. When playing during the Day Time stages, the pace of the boss fights felt broken and sluggish. The werehog boss fights felt clunky. There was no satisfying rhythm to any of them. Even the Egg Dragoon is broken because you can get him into this loop where he can’t even attack you. The one exception is the Dark Gaia boss battle. While I prefer the Super Sonic section in the next gen version, the fight on display here with Chip’s boxing section, the good flow with Sonic’s sections, and even the end part with Super Sonic were enjoyable.

Some bizarre things are also the language options. I am playing the Japanese version, but there is NO English language option. That’s fine because I know this game like the back of my hand and can understand Japanese, but even Sonic and the Secret Rings and Sonic Riders: Zero Gravity had language options. Plus, the amount of cut content is ridiculous. Especially when you consider that the extra missions (which are not fun at all) are just the previous stages being recycled.

The game isn’t complete garbage. As it goes on, it does improve. Some of the stages provide thrills and decent little layouts. However, they’re still marred with the issues I have mentioned. Moreover, it just feels draining and too long. One thing I want to give credit for is the actual aesthetics of some of these stages both for the Day and Night outings. There are some really great environments and displays found through out. These areas feel like very expanded versions of what we saw in the 360/PS3 versions. I also like how each act gets a neat little title like: Scorched Rock or Altar of Oblivion.

Did I have some fun with Sonic Unwiished? Yes, I did and I was smiling during those times. However, it was buried deep under disappointing design decisions and a game that felt more cumbersome than fun.

I stand by this! The fact that this version received much better scores from critics back in 2008 is extremely frustrating when it doesn’t come even close to the achievements of the real versions of this game. I honestly never want to hear people believe this version is better because I am flabbergasted at the idea that anybody would truly believe so! I don’t like this game on Wii/PS2, but I will always marvel at the 360/PS3 version.

[mesaprotector]

I finally finished the Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni VN today after three-plus months of inching through it!

I'd already watched the 2006 anime (as well as every OVA I could find - yes, including Kira). I've also been intermittently watching the new anime, Gou, but with close to no knowledge of Umineko or any other related series.

My thoughts under the cut.

In short, the VN was absolutely worth playing even having seen the anime. While I still do love it, the shorter time it has to spend on comfy slice-of-life scenes and character backstories mean it does suffer a little bit, in particular:

Keiichi is so much better in the VN. In the anime he had his moments, but I almost felt like he was mostly there to make the cast into a pseudo-harem. In the VN, he's just great, right up there with all of the other kids (well, except Rena, but more on that later).

Meakashi was already my favorite arc in the anime, but in the VN the tragedy hits so much harder, especially with Shion's final line, "I wish I hadn't been born".

The Keichii/Rena fight in Tsumihoroboshi felt weirdly offputting in the anime, and I felt the VN did a much better job of slowly shifting from the dark mood of most of the arc to its almost-happy ending as Rena relearns how much she loves having fun with her club.

Irie's behavior is pretty concerning in the anime, but in the VN he feels a lot more like a genuine good person who just jokes around a bit too much.

I remember already feeling that Miyo was a kinda compelling villain, but the part in the VN where she just grabs all of her pain and hurt and channels it into an incredible drive to excel and succeed (Matsuribayashi, Chapter 4) is freaking amazing, and thanks to that I'm always going to associate its BGM with Miyo, even though it's also played when Akasaka rescues Rika.

There were a few pretty small things I felt the anime improved on:

The anime-original "Reunion" episode and the Yakusamashi-hen arc were really good, and in particular the latter has my favorite Ooishi scene when he just freaks out in frustration over how powerless he was to stop the disaster. I really like Detective Delicious in general, but that one scene, even more so than any of Rika's, was really the moment I felt most "God, please help these kids".

Some of the perviness is slightly toned down in the anime, or rather, confined to the fanservice OVAs. (The exception is Irie, as mentioned above.) I did start to tolerate the story's humor a little better as time went on, but it's still a little much on occasion. 

The VN getting more in-depth was generally good, but there were certain parts where I felt it could have been condensed. Like, instead of cutting repeatedly to Akasaka during Matsuribayashi, just have him show up and rescue Rika (it's set up well enough with the fragments mini-game).

Speaking of the pacing, I initially played the Steam version but at a friend's recommendation installed the "07th Mod" with full voice acting and updated graphics for Himatsubushi and Meakashi. But I switched back to unmodded afterwards, since while the voice actors do a really good job, it slows the story even more, which is generally fine during dramatic scenes but causes the comedic ones to be something of an ordeal (the mahjong chapter of Himatsubushi, not least since I have no freaking clue how to play, was slightly torture).

I also feel that having voice acting changes the atmosphere to something much closer to that of an anime. If you're planning on only playing the VN, I'd recommend doing it all with the VAs, but as I'd already heard Rika say "Nipah" about a million times I was looking for a bit of a different experience.

===Some Thoughts on the Whole Story===

Higurashi's overarching message - that all that's needed for a happy ending is for everyone to come together - is something I often disagree with, and a lot of my other favorite stories take almost the opposite perspective. One anime whose ending I absolutely adore has the main character go off by herself and talk the main villain into a puddle of tears, winning the "final battle" of the entire series thanks to character development gained mostly from introspection.

But in Higurashi, for all that, it really, really works. Ryuikishi07 absolutely goes the extra mile, and as idealistic as it often feels, you can't help but come out of the story feeling that just about everyone deserves more trust, compassion, and understanding. One of my favorite quotations, from a book I read in middle school about a rabbit, is "things only seem impossible before they happen". Maybe it feels like two people, or a village, or a nation couldn't possibly meet in the middle, but they actually can, and they can accomplish things nobody would dream of with their shared will.

(I guess you could nitpick and ask "hey, when does Teppei show up to help defeat the Yamainu"? - lol - but I think the story does a really good job nevertheless.)

One other thing I just have to praise Higurashi for is that it actually resolves nearly all of its mysteries with a minimum of hand-waving, which is pretty uncommon for a mystery story, and I know that at least when I first watched the anime I was sure it would kind of invent an ending out of nowhere. There are magical elements, but they're pretty well set-up, and the one "miracle" that occurs feels very natural.

Rena is still my favorite character, even though Tsumihoroboshi was middling as an arc (meaning still amazing). When she’s sane, she’s the best friend anyone could ever have - Mion and Keiichi try, but their specific flaws mean that they’re dumbasses sometimes when they just want to help. It takes a lot of skill to write a believable, super emotionally intelligent character, which is what Rena is. That - and the scene where she hides in her happy place in the car during the rain was atmospheric as all heck. Being all by myself somewhere out on a rainy night is my comfort and my healing. Fortunately my own problems are more manageable than what she had to deal with in Ibaraki.

Overall: 9.5/10, whatever you might imagine that number means to me. The anime gets one point less, but it's still really good.

[fiore-rosewood9]

14 and 23?

Thank you for the ask kind tumbrl-er. Before I start I would like to mention that anything I say is related to personal experiences in a fandom and there is no right or wrong answer. People come in all shapes and sizes and that also means - Different sets of experience.

TRIGGER WARNING - Mentions of slurs, r*pe, p*dophilia, creepy behavior, mentions of psychological analysis on a character, personal experiences with fandoms and a long rant. If any of these disturb you, please refrain from reading this and skip this post. This is not meant to cause drama, but I had to involve them to explain my point. I also mention sensitive topics like the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, 9/11 and the r*pe of Nanking, if you are related to any of these or have someone you know who died during this time, please refrain from reading, because I was extremely emotional and cried a bit while I wrote these, because what I wrote still has an effect on me.

Again, this is not meant to bash/hate on any ship mentioned here.

This is not meant as a personal attack for anyone who ships these. Also this may be a rant, I apologize for writing a whole novel and not a short answer, but I feel passionate about what I write here. This is going to be a really long post, so I do not blame you if you don't read all of it. I am going to mention a lot of things that are not related to the ships, but they do have significance in my mind and are related to my rant. With that out of the way, my answer is under the cut -

14 - Has a fanbase ever made you ship or not ship something? Why?

Yeah, I have been forced and threatened to ship certain things, via texts which made me leave certain fandoms. Hetalia is a cespool simply because I have been in it 8-9 years and can speak confidently about what happened to me. I thought the hate and immature fans in hetalia all left by the time it was 2016-17 but nope, there are still bad apples here and there. I just try to tell them I am not here for childish games and I am not here to debate which ship is the ''best'' since that is what certain people did all the way back in 2013. I am here just to enjoy my self and reblog fan art and headcanons and talk about hetalia and other fandoms and appreciate the manga/anime.

- Ciel x Sebastien (Sebastien is just there for Ciel's soul) I mean he does care for him in some aspect and I think he said something like - "I will always be with you til the day you die, my lord". There is a normal age gap between adults, and then there is lowkey p*dophilia. How old was Ciel anyway ? 12-13? Even though he is a teen, at this age people are not really mature in many aspects. I have collegues who have what you may call ''Sugar daddies'' in the west and let me tell you, they don't really act nice to their sugar babies. Unless it is some sort of consensual sex roleplay and you are living in a fantasy with your partner, most girls and boys I see feel ''trapped'' by their words.

The sugar daddy (In rare cases mummy) exploites them for attention and tends to lash out if the baby looks at their phone and doesn't pay 100 percent attention to them and tries to buy their attention which is simply wrong. Okay, I moved way offtopic, but certain ships kinda remind me of this unhealthy dynamic in a way. I know my opinion isn't worth shit since this is the internet and everyone thinks they're the next new hot thing around here but I just see them as servent and master and more like frenemies where Sebastien would do anything for Ciel, but you see, that is kinda his job. Just like how doctors act professional and it is their job to cure/heal you if you have some sort of pain.

- Izuku Midoriya x Bakugou Katuski - (I was in this fandom for a short time and only watched up to a certain season so please excuse me if I what I say is not accurate, this is also a long rant so you can skip if you want, in the last two paragraphs I explain about the pairing speciffically) So like from what I remember Katsuki is a bully. I really despise this ship, purely because bullying to me is not something cutesy and fun that people do. It makes you wish you kill your self faster because self harm no longer works. There was this weird person on tumbrl that sent me hate through tumbrl and I made a post about them, how I was a ''bad person'' for hating on this ship. I mean, I am allowed to dislike and even hate what I want. It is not you who has went through trauma and has CPTSD is it? In my high school, even though it was an economical one, except learning Economics, Accounting, Finances and other stuff I also got to learn things like Psychology, Ethics, History and Geography.

And each subject is tough, as in - You can't pass high school if you don't know the details. Except the book that we used in school that we learnt our lessons from, we were also made to carry two other books that we used for exercises, and other than that we had books that were by different authors, we had to read, but they didn't lift our grade in any way. So I have learnt psychology and world history for 4 years in high school and I learnt world history and world geography for 3 years in middle school. And now the first year in Uni, I got to learn psychology for year too. They also made us buy 9-10 books by different psychologists and write about them. From what I hear from my americans friends and collegues, they kinda don't teach you world history, it is like unless you know all of Thomas Jefferson's favourite foods you will be failed. I don't know if this is true, but judging by how they teach what Communism and Socialism is, in the american schools, I am kinda losing hope for what americans actually know about the outside world, aka, anything that is not the US and Canada.

I am not a psychologist and I have never studied to be one, but my own problems and the problems of my family and friends made me start reading even before high school in order to self improve as a human being because I have - Fatal flaws. I also have a few mental illnesses whcih have been diagnosed by psychiatrists, but where I live, mental health and the lgbtq+ is extremely shamed. This is why I never tell anyone I go to a psychologist, because people don't understand you and laugh at you and shame you. The lgbtq is harassed and can't marry or adopt children, however, this somehow is not a hatecrime. Which extremely frustrates me since this is against human rights in my book. You can't just harass a person for their sexuality. I may not have a phd in psychology but I naturally tend to help people and listen to their problems. It seems that I also give good advice and help people well, so sometimes in friend groups I am know as the ''heart'' and the ''psychologist''. I say that because I know a lot more than 4-5 articles that I read on psychology today, healthline or verywellmind, while people nowdays read a few articles and call them selves a psychologist. I am not one, but have the skills and knowledge to be one and can spot articles with old outdated information that hasn't been relevant in the past 30 years or so.

But that is the majority of people, who concider it a mental illness and base the lgbtq on what stereotypes they see on TV and what their parents told them. The internet is made for global use and that means that anyone can write all kinds of shit and use it. However there are a lot of problems with this when it comes to psychology and psychologists and psychriatrists. Many people still believe myths and things that were proven to be wrong. For example, in my country the word - Autist/Autistic, can be used as a slur, it is similar to what the Americans have in the - N and R words. And this is extremely upsetting, because while I am not on the spectrum, I don't think anyone should be degraded and be shamed of this label. Autism is a spectrum, but here it is used to signify that someone is slow. They're not slow, their brain just works differently. But that can be used for other illneses too. I think anyone suffering from mental illness deserves the support of family and friends and a normal life. I think anyone who is a decent and kind human being deserves a peaceful life.

So in real life Bakugou x Izuku would be a crap pairing. Because bullies x their victims do not mix well. Bullies in real life are cowards. They're like predators in the jungle. They are not real leaders. They always settle for someone who is clearly weak and vulnerable (This case - Izuku has no quirks and is useless in their world) so being beaten up, emotionally and verbally bullied isn't really fun. On top of that, when a bully develops an unhealthy dynamic, other people of the group, who never oroginally bullied the victim and were neutral or even friends, go and bully the victim, because they can and they will. Usually victims are powerless and telling the teacher and sometimes beating up the bully doesn't really make the bully leave you alone and respect you. And sometimes, you end up in the hospital with a broken leg and an arm and small injuries in your chest because bullies can't handle anyone standing up to them and ruining their status. Bullies have extreme, neurotic fear of being alone, so they find other assholes and bitches like them and attack always people - Who never did anything to them to insult them.

The bullies create it them selves. No one is an easy victim, not the person who wears glasses, not the anorexic girl that sits on the first desk, not the boy in a wheel chair, not the man with a stutter, not the woman covered in scars, no one. It is also a fact that schools profit from bullies since bullies usually have rich parents that think their child is somr sort of angel when in reality their child loves to make others cry and hits them when they don't get what they want. The problem with bullies is that they are hard to stop. Sometimes telling them off works, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes punching them works, sometimes it doesn't. Etc. We can't predict which bully is bluffing and which bully is serious and will beat you up. They do not realize or care that they hurt their victims, even if the victim becomes a millionaire, to them, this person will always be inferior weakling that they need to torture psychologically and make them cry. They're sadistic. Bakugou from what I remember became jealous and only stopped bullying Izuku when he became ''strong'' that means strong physically. And for boys, it is generally easier, you hit the gym and no one bullies you. But what if you are a girl? I don't see girls being more respected or feared for being muscular. It is kinda like the jock x nerd. Cute in theory, but in reality it is beyond abusive. Even if the victims kill them selves bullies do not care. They just move on to another victim and are proud that they broke someone and are not as weak as them.

America x England - (OOOOH BOY, HOW MUCH DO I WANT TO BE CANCELED, HAHA) Well, as someone who has been 9 years in this fandom, I have a long history with this pairing. I do not know if I ever explained why do I hate it so much? I have a long and complicated history with it. This where my inner historian comes in. My uncle is a professor in history, but not in our city and we are not very close but I was always interested in history, but now I am a bit skeptical when it comes to history, because you never know how someone can twist it since history is written by the winners. Whatever I say in this post, is not meant to cause drama or offend anyone. From now on I am going to use, vulgar language and this may not be suitable for some readers

This is not meant to be hateful towards people who ship it, but I hate this ship, with passion. This has to be the worst ship, in the fandom history, ever. If you want, feel free to block me if that triggers you. I don't know from where to begin, since I am going to get canceled if I speak my own personal truth and my experiences. I have read the manga when I was 13-14 and have matured since then. The hetalia fandom in the past was more different than in 2021. So like there were ship wars, fan arts, roleplaying, everyone cosplayed hetalia and homestuck since they were the biggest fandoms, Carley Rae Japsean's song Call me maybe was blasting on the radio, Gagnam style was the shit and life was good. I was young, naive, full of hope and looking for fandoms to join in, since it is was a relativly new concept for me. I did not know what these cutesy boys I saw on deviant art were so I decided to scroll down through the comments to see what it was, and I read the name - Hetalia. If you then pay me one million dollars/euro and tell me that Hetalia is going to be my favourite anime and the fandom I stay the longest in - I would have rejected the money and not believe you. Pshht, Hetalia? What does this anime about personification of countries has that the other animes don't? Well, to that question, I can't answer and still ask my self.

When I first came into the fandom I only knew about it from deviant art and from a site called - Shamchat. This site no longer exists and has a site specifically made to fill the hole of it. I roleplayed and I think my happiest years in the fandom were 2013-2015. Those were the years where I met really, really kind fans. It is like everything else went downhill and the kind and sweet fans left one by one. And I was just left with hateful immature tweens and teens who only cared about their OTP and didn't care about other fans's emotions. I apologize if this sounds like a pitful story and I am pitying me, I did not mean it to sound it this way, or as a whining. I do not like whining.

They also seem strangely neurotic if you ask them why they ship UsUk. I can perfectly tell you why I ship anything without being mean. They just straight up insult you and send you passive agressive smileys - : ) - like this and never explain why they insult you, they just curse you. I do not understand why you make America to be the top? When he is clearly a power bottom?????? I mean, if you ever look through canon manga England and him as a country in a history book you wouldn't think he is a ''uke'' (I really hate the little girls who use japanese and think they kniw the language just cause they watched the anime and think they're quirky if they saw kawaii out loud). In fanfiction he is not fleshed out, he always seemed to blush and say baka and be a boring character over all. While Alfred is this dumb himbo/bimbo character that can't put 2+2 and laughs at everything like a small child. He is 19, for fuck's sake.

He is still a child and people can mature up until 25-26. But these ages are not real ages. For example Germany is 20, even though Bismarck unites Germany in....1871 if I remember correctly? Don't quote me on that and the americans have freed them selves in 1776. So technically Germany as we know it, should be younger but isn't. And they're both still awkward babies. America doesn't have a concrete religion but from what I know, Christianity seems to the most popular religion there as for now. I don't know if Alfred (Even though he is fictional) would identify as a catholic, protestant, puritan or some other stuff but he is awkward, he has a boyish charm that Ludwig does not have. So I can't imagine these good bois being tops with experience. Usually tops/doms come with lots of experience behind their back, or at least this is what people say whom I know who are also part of the lgbtq and bdsm community. Alfred just doesn't have the vibe of a top, he is more of a switch to me, or at best a power bottom. Ludwig has a dom/top vibes but he is extremely awkward in all senses of the word. America doesn't have a concrete religion but from what I know, Christianity seems to the most popular religion there as for now. I don't know if Alfred (Even though he is fictional) would identify as a catholic, protestant, puritan or some other stuff but he is awkward, he has a boyish charm that Ludwig does not have.

So UsUk was forced down my throat ever since I can remember, I have been insulted, threatened and took 2-3 hiatuses purely due to bullying. I Really HATE, HATE, HATE - feminine Arthur. I do not know why this is the fandom's fetish, or at least used to be even though some fans still draw him that way. I really love art, I used to draw and still do. I went to classes through out almost all of my life and I know my proportions. Whether you look through normal fan art or hentai manga (Arthur has the most porn idk how or why) he always has these weird proportions.....of a malnorished tween girl. There is some porn of him either as a child (A toddler by the judgement of his body) or of Alfred as a child, and they fuck. How is this supposed to be hot for anybody? I also remember (Which is why I left amino) on amino that users were extremely childish and lied about their age. Like no, you're not 17 and a half and are ''too mature for your age'' you are 17 and that still is a minor in my book. Also in one of the translated hentai comics there is this...idk how to describe it, there is this shaving scene where Alfred becomes a man and has his first boner from what I remember, the artstyle is great, but the scene can be described a child grooming. England lies to America how boners are a horrible disease and it can only be cured if he stays next to him. He then goes to France who tells him that boners are healthy and normal at this age and is upset at England for lying to him. Then when he frees him self America smiles, laughs and pisses on top of England I think he later fucks him. Like people can try to force their weak argument over england being a uke somehow now, but Pirate England is a top, how in the hell would anyone think he is a bottom?

UsUkers also love weird fetishes and force them down your throat, and not only shame you when you don't ship the ship, they shame you when you don't have their fetish. So like people go to my dms and ask me if I want to MPREG with Arthur beign the ''woman'' in the relationships, and golden showers. I also remember leaders acting unprofessionaly towards me. Some user was sending me child porn and when I told one of the leaders they just told me it was my problem and to fuck off. It deeply upset me so I took a hiatus and when I returned I was just met with another shit wave. I think I left last year because some girl was harassing me and constantly wanted attention. I told her to leave me alone since I have lectures and can't speak to her right now and she told her friend I was ''mean'' to her and her friend started insulting me in every comment on every posted I posted, be it fan art or fanfiction I wrote. Also they can't roleplay properly. I feel like I am in 4th grade where children used to insult each other. Like what stupid (probably american white girl) thing going to tell me this time ? Hmmmm option A - Alfred says that Arthur has horrible teeth, option B - Alfred says that Arthur has horrible cooking, option C - asks for sex and wants to impregnate him even though they are both males, it seems to be quite jokes among them. I get that americans want to see their country as this buff, strong, brave, macho type, but real people have strengths and flaws. In my opinion no country is dumb, they all look after their personal interest and empires love to exploit others, it is just how it is. They basically use english stereotypes and call it a day.

Before leaving I went to another ''better'' amino where I blocked one of the leaders. I don't remember if their name was Alfie or something else but it was something like that. And another leader asked me to unblock her, mind you. I was hesitant but I did. I usually do not block people unless they share content that causes negative reaction out of me - panic attack/rise in adrenaline/shaking/desire to puke/anxiety/etc or they have been a total asshole/bitch to me in the past. So I don't have the screenshots, since I changed my phone a few months ago. I used a Lenovo one and now I have an old huawei I used to have since we don't have money for a new one. So I saved the screenshots where they started saying how Francis is a rapist and I thought we passed this phase. I told the original leader and they all seem to not speak english well but she told me that this leader thought I was mean. I mean...she joked about rape, am I supposed to text - XD LMAO YEAH THE R WORD IS FUCKING FUN, YEAH DUDE YEAH! XD LOL LMAO. From what I see, if I have explain his behavior, he just has a high libido, which is nothing to be ashamed about.

There are also different types of attraction - Aesthetic, Romantic, Sexual. And he appreciates anything beautiful. He also says that ''You can't force love on anyone'' and is generally a really sweet guy. Also from what I see he copes with his loneliness by having casual sex while Arthur copes by abusing alcohol. People cope with loneliness in different ways, for him LOVE is important and he craves intimacy. He is suggestive and says sex jokes which is relateable. He also has moments of walking around naked, and while that may be perverted, far more people have done more perverted things than him. Also Greece and Turkey have a lot more sex than France has ever had. I don't know if it is canon or fanon but I read somewhere that Greece loves sex without a condom since it excites him. France is perverted but so are many other people, if a person is assertive towards such personality he will respect the other person's wishes and not force the issue, because he understands the concept of boundaries. It seems that some fans are either too young or too stupid to understand what is common sense and boundaries. Some couples in real life suffer from mismatch in their libido which is why they go to a couple therapist and ask how they can revive their sex life.

He is not a creep. I have met old men stalking me around after school and I have had a guy at a bar putting something in my drink not knowing that I saw everything so I just left. Real creeps do not understand the concept of boundaries and the fact that people are not their sexual slaves, they crave power and dominance and love ruining people's lives, it doesn't matter who their target it, as long as they are depressed and on their knees crying and shaking in pain and fear. So yeah, rape is not something to laugh at but it seems the shitty girls that got into hetalia think it is peak comedy. With Antonio it is different, I do not like throwing the term - P*dophile around because that is a harsh accusiation but from what I remember from manga...didn't he try to steal North Italy who was a child...to marry him? He never wanted South Italy but got used to him at some point, so I am sorry for ruining all of the Spamano shippers's fantasies. He also raised him. Which brings me to the second point.

England raised America. Period. It is canon, it is in the manga, he found him as a child. England loves America because he is the first thing that did not hate him, for him. Europe in the past hated England, this is why France jokes that he is the - black sheep of Europe. He was abused by his brothers, especially Scotland and threw things at him and chased him away. Scotland is not only an abusive alcoholic though. He is more complex and loves his brother in his own way but historically England was not kind at all to Scotland. So these people were telling me that I am a wh*re because I don't ship their precious UsUk? Well guess what honey, England isn't a useless girly bottom, America is neither a top, nor a dumb guy and England most likely changed his diapers. Also why would America blow his revolution if he wanted to be free? I mean England taxed the hell out of him and was a bit of a narcissitic asshole, so why shouldn't America want to be free from tyrany?

Also for people who bring the - BUT FIORE, ENGLAND KILLED JEANNE'DARC SO THAT MEANS FRANCE SHOULD HATE HIM, YOU'RE A HYPOCRITE! - well hun, France held a grudge for centuries until he got even by helping America with Spain and Prussia to free him self from England's grasp. America was the only thing that didn't hate him because he didn't know him. He was an alone child and he finally had someone to take care of him and listen to him talk, that wasn't a human, that didn't die (Davie) and England is an introvert but he has many issues which is why to him the loss of America hurt so much. Because everyone else hated him, or at least in his mind it looked that way. Portugal was always his friend and in a rare case lover and France had a love/friend/hate relationship with him. People can make the argument that France took care of him but France was probably around 12 in human years and England looks to be around 10 when he wore that blue dress of his and when England had a bow and green cloak and shaggy long blonde hair. France still cuts off his hair to this day. While England was in his late teens 17-8 when he found America who was clearly around 5-6. Their pairing doesn't make sense from a psychological point. So I would love to not have any usuk shit in my feed. I have enough abusive people in my life who treat me like a punching bag, I don't need to get upset online too.

Alfred looks 5-6 years of age and believe it or not some children piss them selves even to the age of 10. Some have medical problems but that is not an issue for now. I have been a nanny. I have taken care of children of all ages, and they're telling me? That I should ship a ship where some guy changed another's diapers but the other guy grew up too quickly and now they are dating? IN WHAT WORLD, I REPEAT IN WHAT WORLD?Does that mean I should feel some sort of sexual attraction and would like to bang children I took care of, because they went to the gym and have what society conciders the perfect body? I guess in their mind I should. In reality somewhat every country is related to hetalia so the boundary between what is incest or not is vague. But even when usukers bring the - BUT THEY ARE NOT BLOOD RELATED? - so what, incest is still taboo and some say that since they don't have blood relation it is not incest, but this is why stepbro/sis memes are so prevelent. Since it is a taboo and taboos get some people excited sexually. Whether they are blood related or not is out of the question, Arthur did take care of him as a child.

This is not meant to cause the old FRUK VS USUK wars, but in my experience USUK fans are extremely harsh and cold, at least to anyone who doesn't ship their precious ship. It is like they can't stand anyone who simply objectivly says - I do not like this ship. Bruv, do you know how many other ships I don't like in other fandoms, and no one has given me shit or threatened to hack my computer and send people to beat me up, simply because I DON'T SHIP USUK? maaaan-Let's not forget that these hypocrites also spread lies and said that ''Himaruya said that UsUk is canon'' and there was this black and white fan art that rolled around Twitter, Facebook and other social media for a while and people believe it. I think Hetafacts or some other youtuber debunked that it was nothing but a pure lie. It should not matter what ship is canon, what should matter more is fans being civil and kind to another but no, let's insult other pairings and make people hate ships they didn't originally hate just because.

Here is another ship I don't like - Russia x China. Also another ship - Russia x Prussia, also another ship Russia x Lithuania, or Russia (Romantically) x Latvia, or Prussia x Liechtenstein (Romantically). I even met one person who shipped Sealand x England lol or England x Seychelles x France or Belarus x Liechtenstein (Romantically) I dislike all of these ships. Do you see the word hate anywhere? No, because I don't hate them? Do you know why? Well no one told me - ''I hope you die raped in shit'' and told me that I am ''r*tarded'' in my comment section on youtube because I said that I do not care about certain ships. You see I used to feel this way about UsUk too. It was meh, I don't care, I see them as father and son, because England literally raised him. Also England is proven to be a horrible neglectful father and a workholic and alcholic. This is the reason why Sealand is taken care of by Sweden and Finland.

I always saw him this way so I don't know how the new fandom just started seeing him as the gremlin that he is when he was always a fucking old grandpa gremlin, not a soft uwu useless femboy that loves sex and screams BAKA every 3 seconds and blushes for no apperent reason whatsoever. I have many things that I don't ship. For example I feel conflicted towards pairings like - China x Japan or Japan x America because the r*pe of nanking is a thing and Japan denies and while Japan may have attacked America, americans kinda rationalize the two bombs and laugh at it while if anyone mentions 9/11 they freak out. So they can joke about other countries's misfortune but if it theirs - NO,NO,NO! I think global issues should be adressed in hetalia and people should make vent/rant art. If you are an indigenous person and a white guy comes to you and asks why you wear normal clothes and he says that indigenous people only wear feathers and all, this is why we need to speak to children about racism. Or being told that being latino/a makes you ''Inferior'' somehow (IT DOESN'T), or you're black and you get told by a white person how you should go back to your home land ''with the bananas''. I can joke about my own country's problems but it feels extremely offensive if the country that did the crime (R*pe, destruction of religious monuments, statues of popular poets from my country, more r*pe, stealing boys and babies and forcing other religion on them so they can kill and r*pe their own mothers and sisters. )I do not blame their descendents for what their grandpas did to us, what I can't stand is the superiority complex they have and how they insult this country and speak in their own language like we don't understand them and pretend like nothing happened, which is why I hate a certain hetalia country with passion.

It really sucks how due to Covid the hate against asians has risen, I heard from my favourite youtubers how certain people harassed them and hurt them for ''spreading covid'' or something. Well this just horrible and we really need to re-think how we treat people who were not at fault for a fucking global pandemic. I don't know where Yao Wang would stand, since he is a fictional country but unless somebody projects their homophobia and xenophobia through roleplay or art and send me hate art, I don't really care who they are as long as their are respectful. I can't stand usuk, and I can't stand the fans. I try to block every account that has this content which sucks ass since they look like cool people but no, it has to be fucking ew ugh usuk they draw. I sometimes feel like a bitch for blocking them since they're not the same fans that have insulted, threatened and harassed me but I would like to not blow my chances and risk ever talking to them. If you want to, you can call me a hater, a basher or anything, I don't care.

In a way everyone in hetalia is related but lets say that I do not have concrete hate over this ship but the serial bullying I received from fans over the years. Which is why I ship things like Seychelles x Iceland or Hong Kong x Iceland and I can't choose. Usually when UsUk fans ''defend'' their ship they have two arguments - It is cute and - the revolutinary war and how much england missed him. Two people may look cute together but would their emotional maturity and personalities match? These are important questions, which is why for me Gerita personalitywise, matches but the emotional maturity gap is way too much. For UsUk America lacks basic emotional maturity, raises his tone, cuts off people when they speak, weird obsession about being a hero and a tiny bit of narcissism here and there, he overly trusts him self which can cause as much problems as someone who doubts them selves. England is in another place mentally is honestly much better off with anyone else that is not America or Canada. Portugal, Spain, France, Russia, Japan,etc. America also has more developed friendships with countries like Russia, France, Siciliy and probably Japan and Vietnam. I think he can date Lithuania for me their dynamic is so wholesome and pure and everything click together. Russia also works but some people are put off by it due to the cold war. RusAme/UkFr is much more than just love/hate relationship, I don't know why people have the impression that they constantly fight and make up. Normal couples don't do that. Whether it is incest or not it is debatealbe. I have seen dynamics like theirs and let tell you that these people always ended up divorced.

I will share some quotes from people on different social medias I have found that describe it better than me -

Quote number 1 - from fanpop

"USUK is actually one of my most hated anime pairings followed by Spamano a few places behind for the same reason. The thought of raising a child as a son/brother only to bang him when he's older is nothing but disgusting and makes England seem like a pedophile for "falling in love" with the child he adopted and raised. I honestly can't understand why so many people insist that America and England aren't brothers and that the pairing isn't incest when Himaruya, the anime director and characters in Hetalia have confirmed that America and England are indeed brothers. Some USUK fans claim that America's independence makes them non-siblings. That's just ridiculous. Even if America would say "I don't want to be your brother anymore" directly to England, it still won't make any difference and it certainly doesn't change the fact that America was adopted and raised by England. If the USUK fans want to ship this pairing, it's fine, but denying that the pairing is incest is just annoying. It makes it seem like they think incest is gross, but desperately try to deny that USUK is incest only to continue shipping it or to keep telling themselves that USUK will be canon, which will never happen just like (unfortunately) every other Hetalia pairing except (possibly) AusHun.''

Quote number 2- from deviant art

''t's this reasoning that made me think back to all the Journal reads, essays and editorials many of the Anti UsUk fans write about why they hate the pairing. They usually mention about the pairing being incest, pedophilia and/or not cannon. While all of those might be true, I think there's more reasoning to why UsUk usually never works. It isn't to say those shouldn't be mentioned, because they should be, and I will mention them. First off, incest. Yes, UsUk is incest, but not because they share blood, but because they're BROTHERS. The fact that England adopted America should not be anyone's excuse for why it's not considered incest. Incest means sexual relations between people classed as being too closely related to marry each other. The definition of related is belonging to the same family, group, or type. Neither of these say anything about sharing blood, or having to be born from the mother's womb. If your parents divorced, and your father married another woman, who becomes your mother, she would be considered related to you, since you both belong in the same family. America and England are brothers, they're family, they belong in the same family, and even share the same family name (Don't believe me? Britain's full name is United Kingdom of Great Britain, just like America's full name is United States of America, which was declared by Acts of Union in 1707 before the Revolutionary War. Coincidence? I think not 📷). No, I do not count their human names, since they're mainly names used for the fanbase to use. Now, for pedophilia, that's the one that can be questioned. On one hand, if England and America are shipped when both are adults, then it shouldn't be considered pedophilia. On the other hand, they are about 800-700 years apart. Though, the same could be said with America and other countries like Japan, Ukraine and Belarus. While America may not be the youngest country, technically speaking, he's certainly the youngest most powerful country. So, if anyone in the fandom is going to pair up America with anyone, male or female, that country is most likely going to be thousands of years older than him. So, do I consider UsUk pedophilia? Well... not if America is already a grown adult. So, unless there are fanart or fan fictions with England being sexual or flirty with kid or youth America, pedophilia isn't really the big issue (especially since I haven't seen pictures or fanart of England being sexual or flirty with kid America, and are perhaps the only brotherly pictures and/or fan fictions I can find of England and America). Being that everyone knows that UsUk is CERTAINLY not cannon, I want to go more deep into why I feel UsUk doesn't work. Let's set aside the fact that it is incest, and look at this pairing from a realistic standpoint. I want to start from the bottom up, which would be the back story of how England's and America's relationship started. Why is this relationship so memorable, and considered adorable? Why does it work so well? To put it simply, the relationship between England and America is very relatable. They both reminded me of my two brothers, and my dad and my uncle. It's the story of the little brother, who looked up to the older brother as the greatest thing on earth; the most perfect person in the world. He could never think of anyone else that could be compared to his older brother. Then, suddenly, that little brother grows up and realizes that his older brother is a compete jerk, or isn't as perfect as he originally thought. Usually, this is hard for any little brother to grasp, and, once he does, the relationship between him and his older brother starts to friction. They no longer share the same relationship they once had. Little brothers can relate to America in trying to grasp and understand that his older brother wasn't the big, perfect person he once thought, when he says, “you used to be so big.” At the same time, older brothers can relate to England in losing the innocent little brother that thought he was the world, then having to watch him grow up, and turn into a complete

jerk himself, or lose his innocence. It isn't that England never saw any flaws in America, even as a little kid, but it's hard for him to watch those innocence and naiveness suddenly flushed down the toilet. Now, America is surpassing England, and England now needs America to help him at times. From what I've seen from my brothers and uncle, it's very hard for an older brother to admit he needs his little brother's help, that there might be things his little brother knows more than him, and to actually call or go to little brother for help. This is continually seen with England and America during World War 2 where America volunteers to help, and England continually refuses, but yet seems to need the help (this is especially seen in the Blitz series). When anyone takes these two characters, whose relationship represents and older and younger brother of our generation, then turns it into a gay relationship, it completely ruins the amazing buildup that Hidekazu Himaruya was intentionally going for. It's not that gay relationships are not relatable, but the one that's made in the UsUk fandom isn't something that gay couples can relate to. Turning something that was never intended to be a gay relationship into one is actually the reason why there are gay men and women that dislike yaoi. It's not only a misrepresentation of England and America, and their relationship, but it's a misrepresentation of gay relationships in general. That's mainly where it boils down to why I dislike UsUk. Yes, homosexuality is one of those reasons, being that homosexuality was VERY looked down upon back during World War 2, especially during the colonial days (if you were caught in the act of homosexuality, you'd most likely be kicked out of the city and, if not, be beaten by countless cowboys, then killed, and those cowboys would get away with it, not being punished for said act even if they were caught). More than likely, England and America were homophobic back during those days, since many Americans and Englishmen were completely against homosexuality. It wasn't until around the Cold War, or during the 1960's, when the world started changing their viewpoints. Though, with that aside, UsUk, to me, just can't work with the back story and buildup of the show. Though, the same should be said for many yaoi fandoms in general. Many of them just don't work with the cannon buildup set for the two male characters. If people try to pair America and England up, keeping the cannon story line of their relationship, it comes out as unrealistic, and a misrepresentation of gay relationships, the relationship between England and America, and history in general. It isn't to say that nobody should write UsUk. In my opinion, whatever shipping you want to use is completely up to you. Though, if you want to write a UsUk fan fiction, it needs to not ruin the cannon relationship buildup set for England and America. In other words, I don't want a UsUk of any type to use the same cannon back story from the Hetalia series, otherwise it just becomes very unrelatable, and ruins the intended relationship buildup between England and America as older and younger brother. Anyways, those are my thoughts on UsUk, and why I don't like the pairing in general. You can agree or disagree, but I wanted to get my thoughts out. You can let me know in the comments about your thoughts on UsUk. I'm interested in knowing what your thoughts on the fandom, whether you're a UsUk fan or completely against the pairing, like me.''

23 - Have you ever had a ship become canon, but you didn’t like how it was portrayed?

- Korra x Asami (It looks rushed and I think Asami deserves better, in my eyes Korra constantly changed relationships and has immaturity issues, I watched the show a long time ago tho)

- Light x Misa (Misa deserved someone who cared for her)

- Erza x Jellal/Gerard (Erza deserved better, the guy looks like he is an extra or made of plastic)

- Ban x Elaine (I really dislike this ship, I read some articles about Japan and I do not know if this real/legit and please excuse me if I spread misinformation, but from what I read, some people said that Japan has p*dophilia problems. Certain mangaka or their word for the comic/manga artist, put loli characters on purpose to please a certain fanbase that likes this type of content. I look like a loli somewhat because I have small frame while other girls matured on body way too fast, I remained skin and bones up until the age of 19, after that I somehow started to gain some weight on my legs but that doesn't mean I am still not short and skinny on my upper body. Old creepy men, asking where you live and asking you sexual intimate questions when you just want to buy you self some dinner after school, isn't my idea of fun. Which is why - 100000 years but has the body of a loli is bullshit. There are older women who have smaller bodies but no matter how young you look, every human being starts developing wrinkles and hair falling at some point in their life. They may be small, but they surely don't look like lolis.

[herinterface]

> # @itsasset:  [LOOK] your muse is caught looking at my muse > # ask meme: this was from months ago 🤷🏻‍♀️

she remained tucked away   behind the crowd backed up in a booth along with her company,   her fingers pressing into the stem of her glass.         she’d noticed her the minute she’d walked in,   she’d been waiting after all.          it didn’t matter that there were groups of people obscuring her slightly,       or that her hair was still down from her shift;     she was as familiar with the way she carried herself,      assured,   light on her feet as she weaved effortlessly through the crowd,      how she held herself,   the straightness of her back,      just as she was with just the  language of her body when it was completely exposed beneath her,       shaking    &   tensing as it simultaneously begged her to continue as it did to stop.          she knew her better than anyone else,    &   so she knew what some people might call a   coincidence,   them winding up at the same bar on the same night, she would call it memorising shaw’s unconscious rotation of dives to visit on the shadow map,   &   calculating the one she was most likely to visit on a friday night.  

she could see why she liked the place.    it was simple,   no fancy drinks,       busy but not overcrowded,    though the menu comprising of only peanuts and chicken wings she’d have to call into question.        she supposed  it got the job done,   considering she was currently letting her eyes run down the outline of shaw’s back,      where she sat at the bar near someone trying to play his cards right with her.         her access to shaw’s expression was cut off from the angle so she occupied herself with analysing him instead as her own date droned on.           he was handsome,  objectively.   short hair, faded cleanly across his head,          strong enough that it was visible under the tight shirt he’d worn just for this purpose,       if one was into that.            there was a confidence in his eyes that no doubt would cause her to bite.              she could just imagine the look on her face,       the curiosity sitting underneath,   the slight tick of interest,   that to her always seemed to beam right at her,    like a  blinding signal to press forward when it was directed at her.       &  she was sure it helped that it had been over a month since she’d been in town to occupy the position he was currently trying,    &   would inevitably fail,    to fill.       it would be cute to see him try,   though,   especially with the parting gifts she’d left her with   (  welts  &   bruises covering the surface of smooth skin she was currently gazing at, recalling exactly where she’d left them  ).  

she’d been kept inordinately busy by her last two identities,       busy enough that she could ignore the occasional tightness     in her chest that came from living through a war without the right tools   (   the assurance of Her voice  )    to keep up to date with the others.            most of the time,   her identities changed quick enough to fill slow forming hole of negative emotions-------- loneliness,   concern,   the utter pessimism that washed over her  ------   &  then she had other things to worry about.         it was easier sometimes,   staying away,   letting herself be absorbed into her persona rather than her own concerns,   needs.             that way she could simply take glances at the others,               easing the dread off her shoulders she hadn’t noticed was there by bringing up footage     of the police department       on the taxi ride from her flight, dropping by the subway where harold was for a quick change of outfits,      something befitting of her character’s date.           she’d left a confused harold gaping,  confused at her attire,    the low cut silk shirt,         completely backless but for a tie across the small of her back,   tight jeans  &  heels,   --------------- finished with a glittery gloss that tasted like strawberries    &   reminded her women she’d spent the night with,    who had been so irrelevant       she’d deleted their names from her mind the second she’d left their hotel room.      she felt like nobody too,   that night,    the silence in her ear creating a cold emptiness she couldn’t dismiss.     nevertheless,   she’d let harold go on about their current number,        offering her two-cents before she smiled,      waved her fingers in the air      &       called back,   “  oh,  &  tell sameen i said hi. ”

but of course she had her own plans to do that,            or at the very least check in in person,    from a distance.    it was nice,       to pretend this was all some game rather than just an attempt to lay eyes on her,   alive   &   in one piece   (   not that they didn’t both see through it by then,   it just remained unspoken for a reason  ).          but from the moment she’d walked into the bar,       no doubt motivated by her extra long shift that day  (  from open until a late close,   they were short staffed  ),             her tongue had drawn across her lips at the thought of getting her hands     on some of that pent up frustration.     it had always been a talent of hers,    along with lovingly tending to that frustration herself of course.      she’d had a visceral reaction to the idea of her hot skin pressed against hers,           her breath almost stalled at the idea of her nails digging into the skin over shaw’s heart,                feeling it   beating wildly as she manipulated it to her will instead of worrying endlessly about the way their enemies might,    how they might end its unforgettable rhythm completely.         but she had work to do,    &   it was surprisingly easy,     to keep her distance           (   it was easy when she knew shaw,        knew she wouldn’t need to be the one to approach  ).   

the night crawled along slowly,    but even with her eyes cast directly at her company she could feel it  the moment she was spotted.        it was effortless,   the way she hid her smirk behind her glass,     not making eye contact with her as she continued her ruse.        her perfect act was never dropped even as she watched her date down his fourth drink with disdain for the smell of the beer on his breath.         she could tell all the physicals signs of his slow but sure inebriation,      but who was she to complain when it made her part easier to play                human vices had a way of doing that.  so she tipped her face down to smile,   taken with something he’d said but appearing to try to hold it back.                &   when he asked her the inevitable question,    the one she’d been waiting for,   she tried to play at momentary reluctance about going home with someone after the first date,            so that it seemed like she was breaking her rules for him.          making someone feel special when they were nothing but another sheep in the flock was a surefire way of forcing their guard down.

that was what brought her to the bathroom before they made their exit,        knowing from the sharp tension she’d noted in shaw’s spine,       the way she’d avoided looking over again after the first time,      the grip around her glass,          that she’d played a perfect game.          which was why it was no surprise to see shaw walk into the women’s room after her,          her form appearing in the corner of the mirror she was currently staring into as she fixed her lip gloss.               the clipped way she said her name,        the way her frustration protruded from her seemingly calm demeanour as she questioned her presence here shot heat throughout her body instantly.         she revelled in her surprise     &   confusion,   of catching her off-guard,    soaked up the moment of bliss where everything aligned perfectly,    because she knew her so well,          “  hi  to you too,   ”   she sung back,      responding with an almost irritated quirk in her lips as she held the brush to her lips.

when shaw pressed the question again,       she slid the applicator back into its case,    lips sliding against each other as she refrained from turning around,    “  i’m not here to ruin your date, sameen,   if that’s what you’re worried about, ”        a truly amused smile was brought to her lips at the thought,           “    besides,   we won’t be staying much longer.  ”         she could feel the tension  that existed,       a silence befalling them.        it was strange,     going from appearing at shaw’s apartment every week or so to weeks of silence on all fronts.         it had been as freeing as it was suffocating,    being herself finally in the privacy of shaw’s apartment,                  in the midst of her whirlwind identities.       now she just felt utterly untethered,   lost.        the strawberry taste on her tongue was unpleasant,    as it whispered to her that she was no different to the rest of them out there,   flawed,    irrelevant,     &  sickeningly powerless to stop what was inevitably coming for all of them.  

but it was fun pretending that she wasn’t here for her.   that shaw,   storming her way into the women’s bathroom while in the middle of a promising exchange,     was the one who had orchestrated this meeting.       it must be fun for her too,   to ignore the fact that she cared,            or at least,    that after all these weeks leaving the space in her bed empty,        that it bothered her to see her back in town the one night she’d decided to do something about it.         she wouldn’t be the one to burst the illusion,      especially when  they were holed up where even god couldn’t see them,         Her divine light barely faint enough to make out,     seconds away from death if they were caught,   if there was one glitch,     if they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.    

“ we should double date some time,”      she called out before she finally looked over her shoulder,    a wicked look in her eyes.                         &    when the question of her appearance here  of all places,          came out again she finally turned around slowly,      her bare back hitting the cold sink        as she levelled her with the same question,   “  what brings you  here,  sam ? ”       &   she was curious as to why she’d followed her in here,         even if she knew they operated like magnets with ever changing polarities,      sometimes skirting around each other,        as close as they could while forces kept them apart,   while other times  they collided without hesitation.    it was all about the timing.      their answer to the question was the same,    she was almost sure,   so she decided to answer it for her.

a glittering smirk lifted at her lips,   as she stepped forward,    off the sink,     exposed shoulders shrugging,  “   did you come for my  approval  ? ”           arms crossing over her chest as she meandered forward, the delight in her features only brightening at a different thought,   “  or disapproval  ?   ”   she said,  her eyes meeting hers with a perverse interest in the idea. 

her show of disappointment cast a thin veil over her         obvious enjoyment as she leaned closer,    “    unfortunately,    i don’t have time to play the jealous ex right now,   as much as I’d love to make an appearance,  ”   she sighed,       &   she left it to shaw to imagine what that might look like,        while also happily supplying breadcrumbs from the twisted idea that had formed in her head,                      “     i  haven’t  gotten to incapacitate someone in a while.         &   it’d be fun,    tying him up,   making him watch,       letting him see all the ways you’re still mine,  ”   she offered with a logical tone,      but it was hard to see the distinction between the act she was proposing   &   real life,  “  don’t you think ?  ”

she was seconds away from tilting her head,  deploying a pout as she proposed a rain check when she realised how close she’d gotten.        she’d naturally filled all   &   any space shaw had to herself,    gazing down at her .              despite the act,   she knew was still exposing parts of self around shaw,      she couldn’t help herself ------  bone tired,   weary from her guard always being up,     &   with a longing she couldn’t get a hold of as she stared at her lips.              without Her around,   she felt so purposeless,   powerless,     just like the rest of human kind.            she couldn’t do this alone,   as harold had pointed out,        &   she wanted her,    needed her,    so why shouldn’t she take what she wanted  ?    what they both wanted.  

she could practically feel shaw’s eyes as they all but glared up at her.         she might know her inside out,    but she had let shaw in too,    &   she knew enough,       maybe enough to know she was afraid.           she was desperate for a place to work through things,    to centre herself again so that she could keep going as someone else,    to feel more in control of the chaos,       to feel safe,     if that was even possible,   for one night.         so when she leant down   &   reached for the door shaw was blocking,  she just decided to give in.        her mouth found her ear as it always did,    her fingers climbing their way up her spine instead of reaching for the doorknob,       “  later,    at yours.    whenever you’re finished playing,  ”       &   her finger caught a strand of her hair,   twirling it before pulling just gently,       “   wait for me,     with your clothes off,   sameen. ”

although she begun leaning back,        her face dipped forward again with sticky lips parted into a smile,          her hand pressing against her waist as she spoke,        “    &  think   about me,  ”       speaking with just the right amount of command as there was the insufferable pleasure she took from infecting her thoughts before she was about to go to bed with someone else.      she curved her body around shaw’s, purposefully brushing skin against skin on her way out, &  personally clinging onto the hour where she could break into her apartment.

[theadmiringbog]

I had a fragile but agreeable life: a job as an assistant at a small literary agency in Manhattan; a smattering of beloved friends on whom I exercised my social anxiety, primarily by avoiding them.

--

I wanted to make money, because I wanted to feel affirmed, confident, and valued. I wanted to be taken seriously. Mostly, I didn’t want anyone to worry about me.                

--

Conversation with the cofounders had been so easy, and the interviews so much more like coffee dates than the formal, sweaty-blazer interrogations I had experienced elsewhere, that at a certain point I wondered if maybe the three of them just wanted to hang out.                

--

They wore shirts that were always crisp and modestly buttoned to the clavicle. They were in long-term relationships with high-functioning women, women with great hair with whom they exercised and shared meals at restaurants that required reservations. They lived in one-bedroom apartments in downtown Manhattan and had no apparent need for psychotherapy. They shared a vision and a game plan. They weren’t ashamed to talk about it, weren’t ashamed to be openly ambitious. Fresh off impressive positions and prestigious summer internships at large tech corporations in the Bay Area, they spoke about their work like industry veterans, lifelong company men. They were generous with their unsolicited business advice, as though they hadn’t just worked someplace for a year or two but built storied careers. They were aspirational. I wanted, so much, to be like—and liked by—them.                

--

It was thrilling to watch the moving parts of a business come together; to feel that I could contribute.                

--

What I also did not understand at the time was that the founders had all hoped I would make my own job, without deliberate instruction. The mark of a hustler, a true entrepreneurial spirit, was creating the job that you wanted and making it look indispensable, even if it was institutionally unnecessary.                

--

I wasn’t used to having the sort of professional license and latitude that the founders were given. I lacked their confidence, their entitlement. I did not know about startup maxims to experiment and “own” things. I had never heard the common tech incantation Ask forgiveness, not permission.                

--

I had also been spoiled by the speed and open-mindedness of the tech industry, the optimism and sense of possibility. In publishing, no one I knew was ever celebrating a promotion. Nobody my age was excited about what might come next. Tech, by comparison, promised what so few industries or institutions could, at the time: a future.                

--

“How would you explain the tool to your grandmother?” “How would you describe the internet to a medieval farmer?” asked the sales engineer, opening and closing the pearl snaps on his shirt,                

--

Good interface design was like magic, or religion:                

--

The first time I looked at a block of code and understood what was happening, I felt like nothing less than a genius.                

--

Anything an app or website’s users did—tap a button, take a photograph, send a payment, swipe right, enter text—could be recorded in real time, stored, aggregated, and analyzed in those beautiful dashboards. Whenever I explained it to friends, I sounded like a podcast ad.                

--

four-person companies trying to gamify human resources                

--

... how rare the analytics startup was. Ninety-five percent of startups tanked. We weren’t just beating the odds; we were soaring past them.                

--

While I usually spent sleepless nights staring at the ceiling and worrying about my loved ones’ mortality, he worked on programming side projects. Sometimes he just passed the time between midnight and noon playing a long-haul trucking simulator. It was calming, he said. There was a digital CB radio through which he could communicate with other players. I pictured him whispering into it in the dark.                

--

At the start of each meeting, the operations manager distributed packets containing metrics and updates from across the company: sales numbers, new signups, deals closed. We were all privy to high-level details and minutiae, from the names and progress of job candidates to projected revenue. This panoramic view of the business meant individual contributions were noticeable; it felt good to identify and measure our impact.                

--

Was this what it felt like to hurtle through the world in a state of pure confidence, I wondered, pressing my fingers to my temples—was this what it was like to be a man?                

--

I was interested in talking about empathy, a buzzword used to the point of pure abstraction,                

--

The hierarchy was pervasive at the analytics startup, ingrained in the CEO’s dismissal of marketing and insistence that a good product would sell itself.                

--

He just taught himself to code over the summer, I heard myself say of a job candidate one afternoon. It floated out of my mouth with the awe of someone relaying a miracle.                

--

As early employees, we were dangerous. We had experienced an early, more autonomous, unsustainable iteration of the company. We had known it before there were rules. We knew too much about how things worked, and harbored nostalgia and affection for the way things were.                

--

The obsession with meritocracy had always been suspect at a prominent international company that was overwhelmingly white, male, and American, and had fewer than fifteen women in Engineering.                

--

For years, my coworkers explained, the absence of an official org chart had given rise to a secondary, shadow org chart, determined by social relationships and proximity to the founders. Employees who were technically rank-and-file had executive-level power and leverage. Those with the ear of the CEO could influence hiring decisions, internal policies, and the reputational standing of their colleagues. “Flat structure, except for pay and responsibilities,” said an internal tools developer, rolling her eyes. “It’s probably easier to be a furry at this company than a woman.”                

--

“It’s like no one even read ‘The Tyranny of Structurelessness,’” said an engineer who had recently read “The Tyranny of Structurelessness.”                

--

Can’t get sexually harassed when you work remotely, we joked, though of course we were wrong.                

--

I was in a million places at once. My mind pooled with strangers’ ideas, each joke or observation or damning polemic as distracting and ephemeral as the next. It wasn’t just me. Everyone I knew was stuck in a feedback loop with themselves. Technology companies stood by, ready to become everyone’s library, memory, personality. I read whatever the other nodes in my social networks were reading. I listened to whatever music the algorithm told me to. Wherever I traveled on the internet, I saw my own data reflected back at me: if a jade face-roller stalked me from news site to news site, I was reminded of my red skin and passive vanity. If the personalized playlists were full of sad singer-songwriters, I could only blame myself for getting the algorithm depressed.                

--

As we left the theater in pursuit of a hamburger, I felt rising frustration and resentment. I was frustrated because I felt stuck, and I was resentful because I was stuck in an industry that was chipping away at so many things I cared about. I did not want to be an ingrate, but I had trouble seeing why writing support emails for a venture-funded startup should offer more economic stability and reward than creative work or civic contributions. None of this was new information—and it was not as if tech had disrupted a golden age of well-compensated artists—but I felt it fresh.                

--

I had never really considered myself someone with a lifestyle, but of course I was, and insofar as I was aware of one now, I liked it. The tech industry was making me a perfect consumer of the world it was creating. It wasn’t just about leisure, the easy access to nice food and private transportation and abundant personal entertainment. It was the work culture, too: what Silicon Valley got right, how it felt to be there. The energy of being surrounded by people who so easily articulated, and satisfied, their desires. The feeling that everything was just within reach.                

--

We wanted to be on the side of human rights, free speech and free expression, creativity and equality. At the same time, it was an international platform, and who among us could have articulated a coherent stance on international human rights? We sat in our apartments tapping on laptops purchased from a consumer-hardware company that touted workplace tenets of diversity and liberalism but manufactured its products in exploitative Chinese factories using copper and cobalt mined in Congo by children. We were all from North America. We were all white, and in our twenties and thirties. These were not individual moral failings, but they didn’t help. We were aware we had blind spots. They were still blind spots. We struggled to draw the lines. We tried to distinguish between a political act and a political view; between praise of violent people and praise of violence; between commentary and intention. We tried to decipher trolls’ tactical irony. We made mistakes.                

--

I did not want two Silicon Valleys. I was starting to think the one we already had was doing enough damage. Or, maybe I did want two, but only if the second one was completely different, an evil twin: Matriarchal Silicon Valley. Separatist-feminist Silicon Valley. Small-scale, well-researched, slow-motion, regulated Silicon Valley—men could hold leadership roles in that one, but only if they never used the word “blitzscale” or referred to business as war.                

--

“Progress is so unusual and so rare, and we’re all out hunting, trying to find El Dorado,” Patrick said. 

“Almost everyone’s going to return empty-handed. Sober, responsible adults aren’t going to quit their jobs and lives to build companies that, in the end, may not even be worth it. It requires, in a visceral way, a sort of self-sacrificing.” 

Only later did I consider that he might have been trying to tell me something.                

--

Abuses were considered edge cases, on the margin—flaws that could be corrected by spam filters, or content moderators, or self-regulation by unpaid community members. No one wanted to admit that abuses were structurally inevitable: indicators that the systems—optimized for stickiness and amplification, endless engagement—were not only healthy, but working exactly as designed.                

--

The SF Bay Area is like Rome or Athens in antiquity, posted a VC. Send your best scholars, learn from the masters and meet the other most eminent people in your generation, and then return home with the knowledge and networks you need. Did they know people could see them?                

--

I couldn’t imagine making millions of dollars every year, then choosing to spend my time stirring shit on social media. There was almost a pathos to their internet addiction. Log off, I thought. Just email each other.                

--

All these people, spending their twenties and thirties in open-plan offices on the campuses of the decade’s most valuable public companies, pouring themselves bowls of free cereal from human bird feeders, crushing empty cans of fruit-tinged water, bored out of their minds but unable to walk away from the direct deposits—it was so unimaginative. There was so much potential in Silicon Valley, and so much of it just pooled around ad tech, the spillway of the internet economy.                

--

Though I did not want what Patrick and his friends wanted, there was still something appealing to me about the lives they had chosen. I envied their focus, their commitment, their ability to know what they wanted, and to say it out loud—the same things I always envied.                

--

I wanted to believe that as generations turned over, those coming into economic and political power would build a different, better, more expansive world, and not just for people like themselves. Later, I would mourn these conceits. Not only because this version of the future was constitutionally impossible—such arbitrary and unaccountable power was, after all, the problem—but also because I was repeating myself. I was looking for stories; I should have seen a system. The young men of Silicon Valley were doing fine. They loved their industry, loved their work, loved solving problems. They had no qualms. They were builders by nature, or so they believed. They saw markets in everything, and only opportunities. They had inexorable faith in their own ideas and their own potential. They were ecstatic about the future. They had power, wealth, and control. The person with the yearning was me.                

--

could have stayed in my job forever, which was how I knew it was time to go. The money and the ease of the lifestyle weren’t enough to mitigate the emotional drag of the work: the burnout, the repetition, the intermittent toxicity. The days did not feel distinct. I felt a widening emptiness, rattling around my studio every morning, rotating in my desk chair. I had the luxury, if not the courage, to do something about it.                

--

As I stood in the guest entrance, waiting for the stock plan administrator to collect the paperwork, I watched my former coworkers chatting happily with one another in the on-site coffee shop and felt, wrenchingly, that leaving had been a huge mistake. Certain unflattering truths: I had felt unassailable behind the walls of power. Society was shifting, and I felt safer inside the empire, inside the machine. It was preferable to be on the side that did the watching than on the side being watched.                 

[whatadaze]

day 4: favorite ship: noah boom + liv reijners

warning: this will be long and chaotic and 98% of it probably won’t make sense

I thought about not writing this but I started a couple days ago and just couldn’t stop myself. And yes, I made two posts for today but that’s how passionate I am ya know? lol...and if it isn’t obvious by now i literally have no life + post shit no one cares about :-) 

This will be long so viewer discretion is advised.

Noah and Liv are good for each other. 

That isn’t to say they don’t have flaws, but overall they just work. In OG skam, it was emphasized over and over again that William and Noora were very different, but it’s those differences that drew them together and for them, that worked. In the case of Noah + Liv, if they were too different from each other I don’t think their relationship would have the same dynamic as it does now.

I mean, this whole season starts off LITERALLY showing the viewers how similar they are with their morning routines. The clip feels cohesive and whole, nothing seeming out of place and as they flip back and forth from liv to noah, everything transitions very smoothly. So in a literal sense, noah and liv are similar in their ~aesthetic~ (lol), with very vintage-y, hipster styles. 

But it’s so much more than the physical stuff!!! 

Here’s what I mean: 

1) Liv and Noah are both artists and musicians. We haven’t seen Liv draw much in season 2, but it was shown in season 1 that she can draw (look @ her insta for her sketch of imaan <3) + she’s also musically talented. Noah has a guitar so it can be assumed that he can play (unless that really is a tool to get girls lol) + he’s an artist. They both have similar interests and I’m looking forward to seeing how their passions intertwine in the future because i stg if we don’t get SOMETHING where they are using their talents together in a clip, I will riot. Also, an interesting thing to note is that when Liv is stressed or upset, she seems to push music away. It causes more stress for her. But with Noah, he seems to immerse himself in his art even more. We see that when Liv finally sees him in the funeral clip. He hides himself away in his room + sketches while the guests are all downstairs for the viewing. (don’t know how that fits into this but i always thought that was interesting) 

2) They are both lonely. Yes, they both have their own group of friends but we’re all familiar with the phrase “you can be in a crowded room full of people and still feel utterly alone”. We see Liv isolate herself a few times throughout the season. The first, when she steps out for a bit during Jayden’s welcome party. Then again when she leaves Isa with the boys and goes to her room. Another when she calls her dad and gets upset in her room while her friends are out in the living room. We can see her feel alone when she’s with her friends—when she finds out about Noah’s mom, when their getting their nails done, and during the benefit—her mind is not where it should be as it continues to drift off to Noah. She’s alone because in this moment, she has no one to confide in. Noah has his friends, Gijs and Micha, but we rarely see them together. In fact, most of the times we see Noah is when he’s alone (or with Liv :-)). One thing I actually enjoyed about OG skam was the friendship b/w penatrator chris + william. Yes, they were both two fuckboys but you just knew right away that they were best friends. With Gijs and Noah I don’t really get that vibe (but maybe they’ll explore that later??? although i doubt it bc we running out of time :( ) And we see Noah isolate himself even more after his mother’s passing—literally—by closing himself off from Liv and holing himself up in his room.

3) That brings me to the third point: they both avoid seeking help. Liv is the mother of the group. She takes care of them, gives them advice, and is always looking out for them. But rarely do we see her be the one to ask for help. She doesn’t tell her friends what’s really bothering her and when Isa notices that she’s been acting weird lately, Liv tries to brush it off. Liv’s way of coping is to simply hide her true emotions, put on a brave face, and wait until she’s alone to really act on her feelings. She doesn’t express frustration to her dad even though we see her visibly upset. She writes in her journal about having a shitty day and then steps out of her room with a smile on her face. It isn’t until she begins worrying about Noah that she finally asks for help. We can see that it’s hard for her to do so, but she finally does! Noah is the same way. When he finally needs someone to lean on, he isolates himself. When Liv finally goes to him, he pushes her away and tells her he doesn’t need her pity. His first thought is that Liv isn’t there to be with him but because she feels bad for him. This shows that he’s not used to people genuinely being there for him + caring about him. Liv sees through that BS and stays by his side, and the look on Noah’s face when he realizes she’s staying is enough proof that he needed someone by his side all along. 

4) And my final point is the way both communicate. I’d say both are pretty outspoken individuals and they don’t really hold anything back. From the very beginning, it’s very clear that Noah is interested in Liv and he has always been honest + open with her about that (even though she wasn’t too happy). He had never tried to trick her or blackmail her (and no, i don’t consider the date a blackmail). Noah never used Engel (no, i don’t consider that phone call as him using her) and he tells her that he wants to know what would make her believe that he is serious about her. He directly tells Liv that he is tired of the game between them and even GIVES UP. ANDDDDD MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL he IS HONEST ABOUT HIS BROTHER!!!! Liv is also pretty outspoken and from the very beginning, we see that she isn’t afraid to speak her mind. She tells people how it is, makes it clear to Noah when she doesn’t want him pursuing her the way he did (going by her house which BTW HE STOPPED RIGHT AWAY) and went to noah’s house ON HER OWN with the sole purpose of seeing him AND STAYED WHEN HE PUSHED HER AWAY. So we have two characters who are very open about what they want/don’t want, and like to express their opinions (i.e.: conversation during their first date) and what i LOVED is during the clip w/ their first kiss, liv doesn’t list all these things she didn’t like about Noah. She knew that what she was feeling was true, but she didn’t think that what she felt was the right thing (going back to the whole liv being the mom and looking out for everyone else). And what does Noah do? He says he understands. Because he does. And from their first date, I think Liv knew that Noah was able to read her in a way even her close friends couldn’t. 

YOU KNOW WHY!? 

BECAUSE THEY’RE THE SAME.

So what makes them work? 

Liv helps Noah learn that not everyone that cares about him is doing so out of pity. That there are people who care and want to help him. We see that especially during the funeral clip. Before they go to sleep, he asks Liv if she likes him, and he has this faint smile on his lips when he realizes that she really is there because she wants to be. Liv learns to ask for help from others because she wants to help him but doesn’t know what to do. And in the next few episodes, we will see Liv being the one to push Noah away (*cries*)  when she needs him most and she will have to learn to accept help during a time when all she will want to do is be alone. 

Another important theme in their relationship is trust. From the very first date, the topic of trust has been brought up over and over again. Noah tells Liv that he doesn’t know her well enough to trust her, Liv responds with “Maybe” when he asks if he can trust her. And after they get together, he tells Liv that he can’t wait until she can trust him. I don’t think that was his way of saying “i want you to trust me so that you have sex with me” it was a genuine desire on his end for her to fully trust him. And so when that trust breaks, it will cause a huge rift between them (*cries again*).

Anyway, that was me going off topic for a bit. 

IN CONCLUSION, Liv + Noah challenge each other. It’s what draws them to one another, whether they like it or not. Noah’s life seemed pretty mundane before Liv and even as a character I have to admit that he was kinda dull and I was initially indifferent about him when he was introduced. But after Liv went off on him and we begin seeing a different side of him (someone who is playful, makes jokes, and obviously doesn’t know how to flirt), we start to view him as more than some fuck boy who wants what he seemingly can’t have. And it was a good decision on skamnl’s part to slowly develop their relationship because we know that Liv is not the type to quickly fall for someone she was not into just one season ago. This slow development is what makes us as viewers also fall in love with Noah, grow attached to Liv, and witness these two beautiful people open up to each other and fall in love 

(*bawling now*). 

People usually say opposites attract, but I think that what Liv and Noah share in common is what pulls them towards each other. Liv is used to being alone, being the one who takes care of others, and doesn’t like being a burden to others. Noah pushes his way into her life, and when she needs him most, he will be there for her. Noah is also used to being alone, and before Liv, I think he liked it that way. He had an indifferent attitude about everything and when he wanted something, he usually got it. Liv challenges him, and I think he sees a bit of himself in her. When they’re on their date, Liv asks him what he thinks of her. He says that he thinks she’s reserved, likes to be in control, and doesn’t trust people easily—and all of this is true—but as we learn more about Noah, we see that he’s the same way as well. 

When Liv + Noah are together, they express their true feelings + emotions, which is why their interactions seem so raw and genuine. They get mad and frustrated at times, but they’re also genuinely happy. The emotions they’d usually push aside come out whenever they are with one another. Liv doesn’t hide how she’s feeling + Noah doesn’t either. Liv doesn’t feel the need to be in control around him because the moment she tries to be, Noah challenges her back (and vice versa). And although neither of them have verbalized it yet, we as viewers can see how much they trust each other already. They’ve seen each other in their most vulnerable states and that wouldn’t have occurred if there was no trust involved. 

also, side note:

i’m not saying that liv + noah are mirror copies of each other. of course they have some differences (i.e.: see example of their reactions to music/art when stressed) and while liv + noah are both outspoken, I’d say the way they choose to express themselves differ as well. liv is loud—whether it be through her voice or body language—she just has this strong, bold presence about her. noah seems more reserved (vocally and physically) so when he does say something, it’s usually super impactful. there are probably a lot more similarities + differences but honestly i don’t have all day so i’ll end it here lol 

OK WOW. 

So if you actually read all of this, I apologize for anything that didn’t make sense (which was probably all of it tbh) and I owe you a huge thank you and a gold star. I just have a lot of feelings and used this challenge as an excuse to write it all down.

noliv4ever 

[thedenofravenpuff]

2, 4, 6, Greaaat - Episode Reaction

More foreign early releases, I guess! I just wanna catch up before people give in to the inner spoiler imp inside them, so read these episode reactions at own risk if you still wait for the proper American release schedule.

Now let’s see what this one is about.

SPOILERS!!

Jocklestia is now canon.

Twilight’s face at Pinke XD

With as much extra screen time Snails now gets as a athlete, I always wonder about Snips. Then I remember how he acted last time he showed up to abuse his slow friend’s fame for profit and I care less.

Overly excited pegabirb enters stage.

Twi... Twi... you picked the jockiest of jocks among your friends to ever have jocked, for cheerleading? I’m kinda amused by this actually. Especially with cheerleader prof Pinkie cast as the coach instead.

Audio issues during themesong, and I’m not talking about my usual complaints about the visuals of the new intro never truly sync with the song’s pace. Hopefully it’s not a repeat issue through the episode beyond the themesong.

Also, another addition to the School of Friendship that kind of excludes non-pony students when you think about it.

I’m both surprised and accepting by Rainbow’s reaction to be declared cheer squad coach. Of course she appreciates cheerleaders more than let on now, she lives for attention and appreciations of her accomplishments. But as she said, her focus have always been on the accomplishments on the field, obviously never put much thought into the work cheer squads put into what hey do. Whiiiich still spells her as bad choice for this, beyond the joke. Twi, she can’t coach what she has no clue about.

Oh, there’s Snips.

At least they are consistent with his newfound hunger for profit, I can respect that. Dude got business sense.

Don’t lie, Smolder. You know you’ll look hella cute in a cheerleader outfit.

Awwwwww, Ocellus~

Aaand we got Dash phoning it in.

Yes, Dash is obviously being selfish on this, but it’s hard for her to fake interest in something she has no, well, interest in. It’s true to her character although definitely put in thick for this. Usually Dash would hate to let down other people needing her, but again this cris cross a lot against her actual interesting distracting her.

But also, really gonna go cliche with only female cheerleaders (Snips just on the side for merch)?

Aaand there she tries to smear it off onto somepony else.

Oh Snails.

Snails is killing it, going full guru. He gonna ascend!

I definitely like those new outfits rather than the dirt brown only the two ponies were wearing.

Still same day? How many hours already used on this!? Tho I dig Smolder’s frustrated expression with that line delivery XD

Yap, Smolder definitely looks hecka cute in a cheerleader skirt.

Damn, Rainbow.

Ya know things fiicked when Ocellus actually raises her voice. Except Dash.

“You are the most enthusiastic pony in all of Equestria, when it’s something YOU care about!” AAAAAND there you have it.

Behind upskirt view for Snips, I’m expecting pervy fan works of that, and you all know you do too.

I do wanna see Snips actually got himself a permit for making and selling this merch, but he sounds deep enough into it to made sure of it. I like he gets a chance too to show he’s not just a locale dumb redneck like in his first appearance, just like Snails.

I do like the dragon smoke machine thing they got going. Only drawback being it’s obviously not water based vapor.

OoOoOooooooooh.. I was wondering about a school for Gifted Unicorns were gonna make a diverse buckball team, I thought they (the writers) were just gonna fudge it and pretend out of nowhere they school also have pegasi and earth ponies studying different kinds of magic. But silly me, that would be too heavy a concept of diversity that the school could offer more than just unicorn lessons. But I do adore to see magic cancelling horn rings are now official canon and to see the return of those magic wings from the first season.

Jocklestia, we need a character blog of her being a real sports nut Chad.

Really do dig they made good use of Yona’s stomping powers instead of just telling her to stop stomping.

Very cute show ^u^

Unicorns really did out maneuver natural earth pony and pegasi? Okay it did beat the cliche of letting the side of the protags automatically win, but I got harder time buying this. Of course we don’t know how much extra time they been practicing before Celestia suggested a friendly game between the schools, only giving the Friendship team two weeks to catch up.

Yes, Imma be digging this new canon of competitive Celestia. She gonna make a cheersquad of her own now just to beat Rainbow Dash’s team.

Twilight, Rainbow caused two students to run off CRYING from failed practice because of her lack of care, before she learned her lesson.

Still a fairly cute episode, Dash was pouring it on a bit thick to a point of hurting others. But still somewhat true to her character that she can dismissive to a point of cruel when not interested in something she gets forced on her. Easy flaw for most, Dash can just be a bit too oblivious about it for her part.

I like they keep expanding the buckball concept, it’s an official sport now and now also got official schools teams competing outside the official leagues. Still got rules that although they can twist around them to allow a full unicorn team to play a three tribe role team, it still seems to exclude non-ponies. We need a sport that can be played across the boarders too.

Anyways, cute episode.

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Devil’s Temptation pt9

Warnings: Mob Styling Warlords

Masterlist

---

Chapter 9 – Ghost

The sound of purring filtered through the air of the room. [Name] lay on the bed stroking the cat while watching as the clock on the wall slowly marched forward. This was exactly how she felt back home. The Princess in the ivory tower surrounded by everything but bored out of her mind as she waited for someone else to make a move. To think I would willingly put myself back in a situation like this. If things weren’t like this would I have made the same choice?

The door opened without so much as a knock causing the cat at her side to jump and disappear under a chair in the corner of the room.

“We’re going out” Takahiro announced with as much consideration as a tornado making its path through the world. Seriously he was taught manners just like me and yet he manages to act like that.

“The royal we?” [Name] calmly enquired as she altered herself from laying on the bed to sitting on the edge of it instead.

“The we as in you and me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Asking too many questions has a way of being unappealing. Just be a good girl and get ready. Here’s a dress put it on and meet me downstairs.” Takahiro threw a hanger with a clothes cover on it on the mattress next to her and swung back out of the room as quickly as he had entered it. Of course, why not? Not as if I had anything else to do anyway. But I wonder Takahiro if it would kill you to attempt to be a little more considerate?

---

Takahiro slid into his home office letting out a small sigh as he realised, he was not alone. It was inevitable that in their shared home that the other person should be present but right now he wanted to just sit alone for a few minutes and try to ignore the world around him.

“Who do you think called it in?” Shin was waving around some paperwork that was a couple of different copies of the same article they had managed to intercept and prevent going to print. “CEO Fake news propaganda plot.” The boldly printed title flashed around like a red rag before his eyes and Takahiro could only see one person pulling this stunt.

“Do you really have to ask?” His stony expression was not lost on Shin as he looked over and watched as Takahiro took one of the printouts. Lowering himself into his leather desk chair before slouching.

“Would Azuchi Corp., would Oda risk a lawsuit for deformation though? It seems highly unlikely its too much of a risk however calculated.” Shin enquired attempting to stay level headed about this. He had never seen his partner so visibly shaken before. Is it because of her or is it Oda?

“Who knows what he would do?” Takahiro ran his thumb over the edge of the paper before tossing it on the desk in frustration. “He is the only one to approach me with deals and issue warnings since arriving in this city. I can feel his eyes on me, that silent tug on each plot of land we acquired telling me he is still there.” He spoke as he gazed out of the window at the horizon line that was starting to fade into twilight.

“Well, he was the one that brought all of it together under one banner.”

“Yes. Nobunaga Oda the man with the impossible dream.” There was a wistful tone in Takahiro’s voice. His charcoal eyes reflecting the smokey lavender tinted ebbing clouds in the sky.

“You admire him.” Shin muttered slightly as he watched. He was not what you would classify a jealous man, but when it came to Takahiro something riled up the monster within him. How many heads must you turn? How many must you turn to? Am I not enough?

“I admire the idea. The man himself … not so much. You’ve seen him. He is self-righteous, imperialistic and infuriating.” Takahiro’s cold gaze turned from the horizon to look at the piercing blue eyes that were looking at him so fervently.

“Mm, all good qualities in a leader who gets the job done.” Shin was a master of self-control even at times like this. But the little telltales were there. The light in the eyes that miss very little. The way he tensed as he brought his natural impulses under control.

“Are you trying to tell me that I am like him?” Takahiro smirked as he gave a deep throaty chuckle.

“Like him? No. But there are times you appear cut from the same cloth. Your passion and drive were something that attracted everyone to follow you. Your ideas and mind were something that made them want to be closer to you.” Shin masked his uneasy feelings as he mentally worked his way down a list of observations. It was something of a mantra he did over the years. Detachment from a situation when you thought your emotions might override your training. It could get you killed. No remain calm. Cool, Calculated, efficient… that is how it is done no other way works.

“And what about you?” Takahiro playfully dragged his hand over the armrest of his chair in a suggestive manner. Those long dexterous fingers moving languidly as if they were caressing something lovingly.

“You know the answer to that question already. I see no benefit in answering.” Shin suppressed the gulp he felt rising in his throat.

“How about I want to hear it.” Takahiro smiled smugly as he rose from the chair and painfully slowly approached like a prowling lion.

“I fell in love with you. You. Not the son of a cartel, not the CEO of a large company. You Takahiro, just you. For all your faults and flaws You were the man I fell for.” Shin sighed knowing it was a pointless argument to waste energy on. You always were the skilful hunter you even caught the assassin sent to kill you by your own brother.

“You’re a sentimental idiot.” Takahiro forcefully grabbed Shin’s chin gently guiding him closer.

“And you aren’t playing fair.” Shin rolled his eyes lightly. He felt the thrill of the game of push and pull. It was familiar to him, to them.

“Perhaps. But I do know one thing about this failed press release.” Takahiro took the papers Shin still had a hold on barely glancing at them as he tossed them to the desk to join the others.

“Someone is rattled?”

“Precisely.”

---

The shadows of the day were starting to lengthen their grasp on the world around them. The street lamps in the newly renovated area of the city flickered into life illuminating the area in pools of light. Mitsuhide had parked his black salon in the shadow of one of the old factory buildings. It had taken very little time to locate the address he had wanted. I suppose if you are claiming to be an innocent businessman you have no need to hide the location of your residence. Then again there is always the chance this is a fake and you are actually living somewhere else.

It had been a few hours. The rage he felt inside had become a slow burning pain generating a smokescreen in his mind. The more he tried to push through it in search of some semblance of clarity the more he felt lost in the swirling emotional nightmare.  

Movement from the building he was watching called his attention back to the present. A set of men dressed as they had been outside that hotel emerged followed by the man of the hour, Takahiro Yasui. Clearly, it is dangerous to make assumptions. Oh, little boy. To think I nearly gave you credit for creating a false location. But you make this… child’s play.

As Mitsuhide watched his hand twitching near the gun he had hidden beneath the folded newspaper he had left of the passenger seat next to him, [Name] left the building and joined Takahiro’s side. It was like magic, just the sight of her seemed to be enough to blow away the fog clogging up his mind. 

He pulled his hand back, he would not risk a gunfight around her. He was a crack shot but there was no telling how skilled the other men were. He had thought that if she looked happy, he would leave. But her downcast face resembled that of the one she showed at his funeral all those years before. She wasn’t happy. She was standing at another man’s side and she was far from happy. No this is not happening.

---

The limonene was ostentatious. Looking back on it [Name] felt sure the only time she had ever been in such a position was at her graduation formal and when she was being kept by Nobunaga. The memory of that time sent an old pain surging through her chest again. Time doesn’t heal like they tell you it does.

“So, I presume this “date” is a set up then?” She asked after the door was closed and the car had started to move.

“What makes you assume such a thing? I might have wanted to take out my beautiful fiancé and show the world how happy we are.” Takahiro joked as he poured himself a glass of bourbon from the decanter in the back of the vehicle.

“Uhuh. And that is why you got me this dress and hired a limo and tipped off a lot of paparazzi before we left the apartment.” [Name] raised an eyebrow sceptically as she looked at her “fiancé”. Do you think I don’t know this has something to do with rumours?

“Naturally. Remember… Dear. If you want extra power in business you must harness every resource and let people see you.” The way Takahiro called her dear sent shivers up her spine. How on earth am I going to prevent my face from showing the fact that this guy makes my skin crawl so that the photographers get a good shot?

“You mean see what you want them to see?” She leaned back in the seat watching the scenery outside flit by the window.

“Smart girl” Takahiro chuckled thoroughly amused at the keen-witted woman sitting next to him.

---

The route they were to take to the arranged destination involved travelling through a tunnel. City lights that flashed past in a stream of colours in the darkness like a neon morse code suddenly changed to longer strips of pure white light as they entered the tunnel. The dark sky replaced with concrete as they zipped through the man-made passageway. The once quieter sound of the engine now roared with the acoustics of the tunnel.

“In just a little while we’ll be at the restaurant and I expect you to play your part perfectly.” Takahiro who had been quiet for a lot of the trip now focused on [Name].

“Yeah, I know. Loving, devoted fiancé right?” [Name] straightened in the seat and returned his look coolly. Honestly, if anyone believes this “act” it will be a miracle. You don’t love me, I don’t love you. This whole thing is a big joke!

“Exactly” Takahiro smirked in agreement tilting his glass in a mock cheers gesture.

– Rumble, Screech, BANG, BANG!! –

The limo felt as if it had fishtailed on the road as it came to a halt causing Takahiro and [Name] to be jostled around in the back so hard that they fell together in a tangled mess.

“Ouch…”

“Are you ok?” Takahiro’s voice was right in [Name]’s ear when he spoke. The sensation of his breath was enough to make her tense without the realisation that they were so close that she could feel his body heat through their clothes.

“Think so…. What the hell was that?” [Name] recoiled from him and pulled herself free from him as she tried to look around but the lights in the tunnel were flickering ominously plunging the world around the car into intermittent darkness.

“No idea.” Takahiro righted himself and pushed a button on the car console to speak to the driver. “Go and see what is wrong.”

“Yes, Sir.”

– Bang, Bang, B-Bang –

“Was that gunfire?” Her eyes went wide as the all too familiar sound reached her ears. Memories of a not too distant past flashing through her mind like a badly edited movie. Her chest tightened as the memories surged. Keep it together…

“Sounds like it. Grr… How annoying. Stay here and don’t move.” Takahiro flipped a cushion on one of the seats and retrieved a couple of handguns, pushing one into his belt and clicking the other out of safety position, holding it in his hand as he left the protection of the car.

The gunfire outside echoed all the louder without the sound of anything else to disrupt it. Sitting in the back of the car it felt like time was slowing down. Seconds turned into minutes that felt like hours. I can’t just sit here. Come on legs time to go. [Name] opened the door slowly realising just how much protection must have been put on the vehicle as the sounds outside were now so loud it felt like her ears were popping with each gunshot.

Whatever had been used to cause the disruption had produced a lot of smoke. It swirled around her feet as she stood on the road, reminding her of a smoke machine you see used on stage or in a music video. The metallic smell in the air mingled with the smell of gun powder leaving a nasty taste in her mouth. But there was no time to worry about that. If I am going to get out now is a perfect time for it. I’m sorry Dad… I just… I can’t do this…

Willing herself forward she pushed through the fear of the noise behind her. The lighting was not helping to alleviate her growing anxiety. If I keep moving away from the guns, I’ll find the entrance and then I can…

– BANG! –

Sparks sprung up like firecrackers on the wall next to her as a stray bullet scrapped past her and collided with the concrete.

“Eek!”

“We always seem to meet when it’s raining bullets.”

[Name]’s head jerked violently in the direction of a voice that should not have been there. The swirling smoke and flickering lights shrouded a figure that was moving towards her. It… It isn’t possible…

As the air cleared a little a pair of luminous golden yellow eyes and a shock of white hair came into view. That was the last thing she saw before her vision went black. Spinning…. the air is… no, the whole world is… what? She was floating in the dark, it was warm. It can’t be…

---

[nicoleknows-nothing]

PUCKS DEEP - CHAPTER 4 (Mark Scheifele Fan Fiction)

WORDS: 3641

That night after my lunch date with Mark, the team was on a plane heading to the west coast. The Jets’ first game of the season was in San Jose the next day. I decided to stay up late to watch the game, illegally streaming it on my laptop because it’s pointless to have basic cable in this house. All we ever watch is Netflix or Youtube, and if we’re extremely bored we bus over to Polo Park and spend our banked Scene points on movie tickets and popcorn.  

It was halfway through the first period; the score was already 2-0 for the Sharks. Me being an idiot, I originally thought hockey was played in quarters, like football and basketball. Upon further review--and by that I mean I Googled ‘Hockey for Dummies’ and found a cheat sheet--I discovered that hockey was played in three twenty-minute periods.

Heather walked into my room to find me sitting on my bed, concentrated on my laptop, eyes darting back and forth watching the movement of the puck on the ice.

“Hey.” I glanced up to acknowledge her existence for a second and promptly got back to watching the game. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” She leaned against the door frame, her voice was still raspy. “Actually, I was coming in here to check up on you.”

“Why?” I slightly raised my voice, irritated over the fact that the puck got overturned and the Sharks gained possession, again.

“Because you haven’t stopped yelling for the last ten minutes. What are you watching anyway?” She came over and laid down beside me.

“I’m trying to follow and understand how the heck this freaking game works!” My voice got louder when seeing #9 of the Sharks take a shot at our goal. Fortunately, the puck flew over the net and bounced off the glass before landing back on the ice. #27 on the Jets took control of the puck and shot it to the other end of the rink. The play was stopped by one of the referees, the commentators mentioning something about icing.

“What the heck is icing?!” I cried, quickly skimming through my cheat sheet. The stupid term wasn’t included in the stupid article; back to Google!

“Well, they’re not skating on a cake, that’s for sure…” Heather cheekily remarked, covering her mouth to cough. I intensely glared at her; If my eyes had the ability to produce laser beams, she would have been dead.

“Funny…” Finally, I found the definition on the internet. “Icing in hockey occurs when a player shoots from behind the red centre line across to the opposing goal line and the puck stays untouched.”

...What? The words were crystal clear coming out of my mouth, but they mushed together in my mind. Heather's grimaced look on her face made me realize I wasn't the only one confused.

“That didn't register in my head at all,” She blinked.

“Uggggh, why is this so confusing?!” I groaned in frustration, softly hitting my head on the screen. “Sports are supposed to be easy to follow!”

“I think you’re focusing too much on the technicality of the game rather than, you know… enjoying it?” Heather analyzed, I could hear the difference between her regular voice and her ‘I-studied-Psychology’ professional voice; it was a lower tone, and she enunciated more than usual.

“It's hard to enjoy when they haven't scored yet…” I anxiously played with the drawstrings of my grey hoodie. “I guess you're right. I figured if I was able to follow the game better and know the ins and outs that I would have something else to talk to Mark about.”

“Newsflash, Nina! You already talk to him about stuff! You were glued to your phone for a good two hours when you got home from work today! Plus, he already knows that you’re not a hockey expert so I don’t think he expects you to spit out stats or remember all the mumbo jumbo right away!”

Even though Ruby wasn’t home, I could hear her voice at the back of my head. Once again, I’m overthinking everything. I needed to stop stressing about learning everything right away and let it come naturally. Just enjoy the game.

All of a sudden the commentator’s voice got loud and full of energy. I looked up to see Mark with the puck, speeding down the ice past the Sharks’ defence and advancing towards the goal. He took a shot, the puck ricocheted off of the goalie’s padding and flew up in the air. In a swift and effortless motion, Mark lifted his stick and tapped the rebounding puck past the goalie and into the net.

SCORE!! Mark Scheifele bats the puck mid-air into the net for his first goal of the season! The Jets are now on the board; it's 2-1 with the Sharks still in the lead!

“He got a goal...” It took a moment to sink in, then the astonishment turned into excitement at full force. “Oh my God! He got a goal!”

My cheeks hurt so much from smiling, I couldn't stop clapping or squealing or bouncing on the bed. They replayed the goal from multiple camera angles, and each time the puck flew into the net I felt more and more elated, cheering each time even though I knew it was a replay. I could feel Heather's eyes on me, watching Mark celebrate his goal with his teammates; I was admiring the screen so closely that I could have gone cross-eyed.

“Look at you! You are smitten!” Heather chuckled.

“What! I can't admire a good goal?” I began to babble, trying to justify my behaviour. “It was a really good one! I KNOW I wouldn't be able to do what he just did! I can't handle a stick or hit a puck so fast like that! And yeah, maybe it did attract me to him more knowing that he's disciplined in a sport he plays professionally but it's mostly because of the goal! It looked awesome! I'm in awe! That's all it is…”

Heather rolled her eyes at my sad excuse of an explanation. “Neens, just admit it! You’re falling for him, he’s basically your boyfriend already!”

“Yes, I like him. A lot.” I sighed. “But he's not my boyfriend. We don't have an official label, not to mention we just met less than a week ago. Right now, we’re friends that are still getting to know each other and that have also kissed once or twice. I don't plan on rushing into a relationship anytime soon.”

“But you definitely wanna get into his pants…” Heather’s eyebrows wiggled up and down, a sly smirk spreading on her face. The thought of being intimate with Mark quickly processed through my mind and instantly my cheeks felt flush. I threw a pillow at her in retaliation.

“NO! Shut up! I have a hockey game to watch!” I faltered, trying to be serious but the muscles in my face betrayed me, forcing me to smile and giggle like a big dork.

Has the thought of being intimate with Mark run through my head before? Kind of, but not really. They’ve been innocent thoughts; very tamed, nothing remotely close to being pornographic. Like I’ve mentioned before, I have flaws; I’m insecure when it comes to my body and I’m scared that If I get too close too soon, I’m going to end up hurt. It’s happened before, and it’s messed with my self-esteem ever since. Therefore, I don’t want to put myself in that situation until the time is right and we’re both ready. Thankfully, Mark doesn’t seem like the ‘hit-it-and-quit-it’ type. His heart seems to be as gooey as a marshmallow, however, people can change as time goes by.

Heather left my room after the first period and I watched the rest of the game by myself, or at least I tried to. As much as I wanted to tape my eyelids open, I succumbed to my drowsiness at the beginning of the third period. All of my energy was sucked away during the second when the Jets came back in a big way from the deficit. Ruby came home from work and thought I was being murdered because of how loud I was freaking out over #13's goal. Heather had to reassure her that I had been acting like that all night. When I passed out, the score was 4-3; the Jets had the lead. I was optimistic about a win.

I woke up to my alarm on my cell the next morning. One of the girls must have been in my room; my laptop was set on the side table and my blanket was tucked tightly around me like a burrito. I unlocked my phone and saw that I received a text message at 2:30 AM. It was from Mark:

Hey, beautiful :) I know you're sleeping but I just wanted to tell you that we won! Got tied up in the 3rd and were about to go into OT but we got the game-winner just before the horn. I'm heading to bed now. I'll text you when I'm back in the Peg.

I miss you.

Although I felt restless, seeing that text from Mark revitalized me in an instant. Not only was I thrilled that they won their first game of the season, but reading that he missed me had me walking on air. And he called me beautiful again! If only this exhilarating, floating feeling could last all day (but it won't because I have to go to a job that I hate with every fibre of my being!) If only he was here, lying next to me in bed…

Remember, take it slow.

I replied back, telling him that I saw the game and congratulating him on his impressive goal. Also…

I miss you too.

It’s Wednesday. It’s the day of the home opener, and I’m freaking out.

“Nina? Simon is on his way. Are you ready?” Ruby asked as she walked into my bedroom to see me, wrapped in my housecoat and staring at the mountain of clothing I accumulated on my bed.

“No…” I huffed, lost in contemplation. “What does one even wear to a hockey game? I’ve gone through everything in my dresser!”

I couldn't believe this was happening. When it comes to plans made in advance, I'm usually the one that's punctual. I'm always ready before everyone else; my outfit is coordinated the day before, my hair and makeup are done hours prior to leaving, and I'm the one helping others and rushing them out the door to show up an hour early.

Right now, I'm all over the place; nothing in my wardrobe seems like it's fitting, my hair is half done and my makeup looks like, for lack of a better word, ass. At this rate, I'm not leaving my room. My chest was feeling tight, I felt nauseous and short of breath. This isn’t like me; I am always prepared!

I flopped onto my bed, burying my head under the pile of clothes like an ostrich. “I need help! I need an adult!” I whined loudly.

“It’s okay, I will help! Don’t worry!” Ruby reassured. I pulled my head out to observe her looking over the many options I had laid out. Surely, she would be able to find something. She dresses better than Heather and I combined. However, the expression on her face turned sour, her head shaking in disapproval as she threw clothing off the bed piece by piece.

“No, this won’t do...” She muttered under her breath. “Not this… Definitely not this… Gross… Plaid? Seriously? That’s a no!”

Deep breaths, close your eyes and take long deep breaths. Everything is going to be fine… I hope.

Finally, a saving grace. Ruby picked up a white turtleneck and a light bulb flickered on in her head.

“Good. This is good, We can work with this…” Ruby searched through the rest of my clothes and in no time, she was throwing an outfit at me. “Get dressed.”

She paired the turtleneck with a pair of high waisted denim jeans and a black belt. She ran out of my room and came back shortly with my black Chucks and the leather jacket I wore the night I met Mark. Once everything was on, I looked in the mirror at my makeup. I had no time to start over, All I could do was fix the smudged eyeliner that turned into eyeshadow and dab my face with the leftover foundation on my blending sponge. My hair was half straight, half wavy; no use in trying to salvage it at this point so I threw it into a ponytail.

“How do I look?” I looked towards Ruby, letting out a loud exasperated sigh and my shrugging arms falling to my side. On a scale from one to ten, my self-confidence was at a negative two.

“You look great! Very stylish!” Ruby complimented, trying to get my spirits up. It wasn’t working; I could feel my hands getting clammy, my mouth drying up.

“I am so nervous...” My voice croaked while fidgeting around with my sweaty palms. My head was overwhelmed with worse case scenarios. “What if Mark gets hurt tonight or if their team loses or both? What if I become some sort of jinx and he performs badly?”

Ruby cupped my cheeks in her hands and lifted my head up to look at her. “Tonight is going to be fun! There is no need to be nervous! It's as simple as going to a hockey game with your friends. You look fantastic and when Mark sees you cheering in the stands, he is going to feel so lucky! And if we're being honest, if you weren’t like a sister to me, I would bang. One hundred percent!”

I rolled my eyes while trying to stifle a chuckle, my frown breaking down into a straight, awkward grin. “You and your words of encouragement.” Weird enough, her idea of a pep talk did help a little bit.

Ruby’s phone buzzed. “Simon’s here!” She asked me one more time. “Are you ready?”

I took one more look in the mirror. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

“This. Is. Nuts.” Simon's mouth dropped, his eyes about to pop out of his head as we were escorted down to the Jets’ locker room at Bell MTS Place. “I can't believe we're down here!”

“Whatever you do, don't go wandering off like you did at the Iceplex,” Ruby warned, her eyes following Simon's every move. “We don't need you getting banned and making Nina look bad. We're her guests and we should be thankful that she can bring us along.”

“Right! By the way, have I said 'thank you’ yet?” Simon put his hands on my shoulders, he was so excited I could feel him vibrating.

“Yes, about fifty times on the way here.” I let out a chuckle. Seeing Simon hyped up and Ruby discipline him helped calm my nerves. He was like a little kid at a toy store, wanting to touch and play with everything. We passed by a rack of hockey sticks and Ruby had to grab on the hood of his jacket to pry him away.

“Don't!” She scolded him in a deep, motherly tone. I bit down on my lip trying not to laugh but the staff member with us couldn't help but crack a smile.

“We do have a cleaning closet nearby if you need to put him in a time out,” They joked.

“Thanks, I'll keep that in mind.” Ruby pulled Simon away from touching a photo on the wall. “Apparently, leaving his harness and leash at home was a bad idea…”

We turned a corner and my stomach fluttered. There was Mark at the end of the hall, leaning against the wall waiting, hands tucked into his pant pockets and looking down at his shiny black dress shoes. He was wearing a dark navy suit, paired with a white dress shirt and grey tie. He looked like a different person compared to when I saw him on TV a few nights ago; his hair was freshly cut and styled to the side, and his face cleanly shaved. He glanced up and saw me, his crystal blue eyes and smile looking brighter than ever. My heart went rapid as we approached and Mark went in for a hug. His cologne was sweet smelling, like a flower garden after a spring shower.

“Hi,” We greeted in unison, both of us giggling at the coincidence afterwards.

“I like the suit. Blue is your colour!” I complimented.

“Thank you. What do you think of the baby face?” He asked. I gently touched his right cheek, his skin was so soft I was envious.

“I miss the scruff, but you look much more handsome.” Our eyes connected for a moment before I broke contact to look at him licking his lips. The urge of wanting to kiss him grew exponentially. However, the moment was quickly ruined by Simon, whose arm was frantically waving to the extent of producing a light breeze behind me.

“HI MARK!” He shouted in my ear, I winced.

“Hey, Simon. Hey Ruby,” He laughed. With her fast reflexes, Ruby grabbed Simon's arm in mid-wave and linked her arm with his.

“By any chance, you wouldn't happen to have duct tape lying around, do you?” Ruby inquired.

Mark shook his head.“No, just grip tape. I don't think it will help in restraining him.”

“That's okay. I'll just keep a close eye on him.” Ruby pulled Simon close to her. It was like watching someone trying to keep a hyper Cocker Spaniel puppy under control.

“Come on, I'll introduce you to the guys.” Mark grabbed my hand, his fingers interlocking with mine, and led me to the locker room.

Of course, the first thing I do when I walk in is almost break the most sacred rule in a hockey locker room.

“Careful!” Mark politely placed his arm in front of me, pointing at the carpet. “It’s a thing not to step on the logo.”

I look down to see my feet an inch away from the gigantic Jets logo on the locker room floor. I immediately distanced myself from it. “Oh, crap-- I am so sorry!”

“Scheifs! Did your girl step on the logo?” One of Mark’s teammates playfully chided, walking up and messing up his hair. I could hear Simon squealing like a girl behind me. Ruby covered his mouth to mute the sound.

“Nina, Blake. Blake is the captain of the team.” Mark introduced, I shook Blake’s hand.

“I didn’t do it, I swear.” I nervously smiled.

Blake laughed. “It’s all good, no worries! I heard it’s your first game tonight. Have fun!”

We continued around the locker room and I met more of the team. I couldn’t remember all of their names because there were so many people and they were all really tall. I felt like the only gnome on a lawn covered with garden flamingos. The only people I do remember were Andrew (because he’s Mark’s roommate), Tyler (because he was the tallest out of everyone I met), Patrik (because I couldn’t stop staring at his beard), and Dustin (because he recognized Simon as the guy who snuck into the locker room at the Iceplex and threatened to kick his ass if he didn’t leave).

“I’ll get him out of here,” Ruby agreed, pushing Simon towards the door.

“I’ll come with.” I took one last look around the locker room. “Everyone seems to be getting their stuff on, anyways.”

“Before you leave…” Mark walked over to his gear and came back with a light blue jersey, different from the typical dark blue and white ones I usually see around the city. “This is the new alternate jersey. I figured you would need something to show your newly found team spirit.”

I turned the jersey around to see his name and number on the back. “This Scheifele guy, is he a good player?” I teased.

“The best! Even better than me!” He quipped back. I took off my jacket and Mark helped me put the jersey on over my turtleneck.

“How do I look?” I modeled the oversized sweater in front of him. He gave me two thumbs up.

“Blue is your colour!” He praised. I looked down to admire the jersey. Compared to what I felt like earlier, my self-confidence was now at an eleven.

“It’s really nice. Thank you,” I hugged him one more time, I didn’t want to let go but he needed to get ready. “Good luck out there tonight.”

I stepped back to leave the locker room when I felt Mark’s hand squeeze mine. “Hey...”

I looked back at him and he pulled me close again, our noses brushing against each other. “Don’t I get a ‘good luck’ kiss?”

“Maybe…” I smirked, my hands resting on his chest. Mark lifted my chin with his finger and leaned in, his soft lips touching mine in a gentle, sensual kiss. Once again, our moment was ruined. This time by Mark’s teammates jeering at us to get a room, throwing their towels at our heads.

“Hey! Those better be clean!” Mark shouted. I gave him one more peck on the cheek.

“Get ready, please. Before they start throwing jock straps.” I ordered, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll see you out there.”

I left the locker room and made my way upstairs to my seat, which happened to be a few rows behind the Jets bench. Ruby and Simon were sitting down, beers and Jets Dogs in hand. Ruby handed me a beer as I sat down beside her.

“Feeling better?” She asked.

“Yeah, definitely.”

[shazzeaslightnovels]

Konyakuhaki Kara Hajimeru Akuyaku Reijou no Kangoku Slow Life Review

Official English Title: Slow Life of a Young Lady in Prison, Triggered by Breaking off the Engagement (On the Japanese cover)

Author: Hibiki Yamazaki

Illustrator: Tetsuhiro Nabeshima (Illustrator of Magdala de Nemure)

Release Date: 18 January 2019

Note: Because this is more like a one-shot that was cut into two volumes due to length (and both volumes were released on the same date), I’ve decided to read and review them at the same time.

Note 2: This seems like it was published as a regular novel, rather than a light novel but the books are full of illustrations and they read more like a light novel to me.

This was really funny! There wasn’t much story to it and not all of the jokes worked but it was a really fun experience overall and it managed to stay entertaining all the way through. Rachel is a very entertaining protagonist and it was always fun to see how she would troll with people next. I ended up liking it a lot and I’d recommend it to anyone looking for a fun comedy novel.

Story:

Genre: Comedy

The story begins when the Prince Elliot cuts off his engagement with Rachel at a party under the pretense that she bullied the girl that he had grown fond of. She refuses to acknowledge or apologize for this act and is thus sentenced to a life in prison. Suprising everyone, she simply smiles and decides to take this oppurtunity to enjoy a vacation. Thus starts her slow life in prison.

There isn’t much of a plot to this. Most of it is really just about Rachel finding new ways to troll Elliot and the other characters. This one-sided mind game is surprisingly readable but, at some point, you can’t help but think “Is that it? Is that all these books are going to be about?” And, yeah, that’s all they’re about. Yet, it’s still a really entertaining and funny series that never quite becomes boring or repetitive. It’s always fun to anticipate what Rachel’s going to do next and the final arc really ties everything together and ends in a satisfying way.

I laughed a lot while reading this. Not every joke works but most of them do and the ones that do work are really funny. It’s a good small comedy series that ends up being very entertaining, despite it’s non-existent story.

Character:

Rachel is a hilarious protagonist. It’s always fun to see her come up with new ways to screw with people. She’s not very flawed as most of her plans to mess with people do succeed but she’s still a very entertaining protagonist. As for Elliot’s, he’s an idiot prince and there’s not much more to him than that. It’s fun to see Rachel mess with him but he really doesn’t stand out as a character but I think that’s a good thing. It’s because he’s so simple that it’s fun to see him get frustrated about Rachel. If he was more complicated, I don’t think it would be nearly as fun to see.

The rest of the characters are alright. There’s no real apparent depth to them but they work well for the gags and have a consistent personality and some of them end up being quite memorable. Some of my personal favorites include the nameless prison warden, Rachel’s maids who call themselves “The Dark Night Black Cats” and Alexandra, Rachel’s friend who doesn’t show up until late in the first volume but makes an impression, despite her small screen time.

I should mention that the majority of the male characters in these books are shown to be idiots while most of the female ones are shown to have a few screws loose. I think this works for comedic purposes but I can see it bothering some readers.

Adaptation Notes:

A manga adaptation has been announced with art by Miya Taira and is currently being published. As far as I know, the first volume hasn’t been released yet and I haven’t read much of it myself. From what I have read, it cuts out a lot of the gags that are just Rachel trolling with Elliot and co. but what’s kept in could probably be a considered a kind of “greatest hits”. It works well, though it cuts out some of my personal favorite scenes, like Rachel playing the trumpet at night to mess with Elliot’s sleep, but it’s good stuff. I think that it’ll likely all be adapted into one volume, judging by the pace of what I have read but I think it’ll work well as a short gag manga and I’ll probably be buying the it when it comes out.

Recommended for:

If the premise of “girl in prison screws with ex-fiancee/prince who put her there” sounds like a fun time to you, then you won’t be disappointed. If you’re looking for a short comedy series, I’d recommend this one.

Overall, I enjoyed this series a lot and if the author gets any more books published, I’ll likely be reading them.

Next up will be the first volume of Mahoutsuki Reimeiki

[funkymbtifiction]

Si-Fe-Ti-Ne or Ne-Fi-Te-Si? (non- stereotypical)

Hey mods! 

I would like to ask an unusual question.

Could you please help me to determine if someone is an enfp or an isfj? I am astonishingly lost.  Both personalities are perceiving dominants, so they prefer to collect information, and are therefore not quickly to judge or form long term decisions fast. Both are feelers, so they judge by a value system first. They both have F/T in the middle of their stack, so they back up their feelings with logic and switch between both easily and fast. 

They both use Ne, so their ideas are multi-focused not single focused like Ni. They both use Si so their memories are self referencing and smells, touches, sounds, remind them of personal times.  If the person is not well balanced they might get into a grip, so the isfj will act like Ne, and the enfp will act like a Si. But if they are balanced they won’t show the typical stereotypical behavior of their inferior function Ne/Si. 

Looping they have SiTi and NeTe, which are different, one is extroverted and the other introverted, but both have a perceiving and a detached function operating, one would be more focused on understanding systems and the other on creating, but how can you know if the person is looping or if they are just using their entire stack?

To me those are the two more similar types and I just can’t determine which one fits accurately.  I do know that Te is different than Ti and Fe is different than Fi, but together Fi/Te and Fe/Ti they seem the same somehow. I have read extensively about each function and each function in characters, but an isfj and a enfp both healthy are too similar in my mind.

Could you please contrast a 2w1 6w7 1w9 so/sx isfj and a 2w1 6w7 1w9 so/sx enfp? ( I know enneagram is not something we should use to compare types, but otherwise they would be too different)

I appreciate the help. I know it doesn’t make sense to mix the both of them up, but I am just stuck in it.  Thanks.

ENFPs and ISFJs are really… not alike. At all. Their blind spots are way different. Even when healthy, you’re going to see the areas in which they make consistent mistakes and cause conflict with others.

In a nutshell, an ENFP reacts quickly in the moment, needing no down time to respond to things going on in their environment. They can come up with things on the fly, they have no trouble adjusting their plans at the last second (may even do so voluntarily), and they have excellent short-term foresight. By that, I mean their Ne/Te can see how doing THIS will play out and resolve THAT PROBLEM within a relatively short amount of time. Nip it right in the bud. And because they’re a high Intuitive, presuming they are healthy, it works, because the idea is “good.” The area in their life, however, that causes them the most frustration, anxiety, and even conflict lies with… Si. Details. They’re dreadful at it. Things like remembering people’s names, remembering details of things they have created, retaining information and, above all, route learning (so as to become an expert, and not just a “fill in the blanks and hope for the best” person) is hard for them. Where will they screw up at work? Details. Where will they screw up with friends? Details. What’s the biggest source of their frustration? Details. Their biggest single problem is rushing to implement their new ideas, without stopping to consider the plausibility or work involved – in other words, the details necessary to make it work.

Details are what the ISFJ excels at. No problem. They know how to memorize and learn. More than that, they have the patience to learn things properly. To spend hours and hours practicing their technique and honing their skills. It’s the difference between a Ne-dom who says, “I want to become an expert pianist,” and buys a keyboard, but finds the basic books they have to practice with boring and gives up after two weeks because they haven’t become an expert overnight (unrealistic Ne-dom expectation, accompanied by grand dreams of playing in front of a massive crowd and being marveled at), and the patient Si-dom who starts out with the beginner book, masters that, moves on to the next book, masters that, moves on to the next, masters that… and winds up a flawless pianist, because they did it right. They followed the tried-and-true method they knew would lead to success, if you followed each step. And they did each step. Over and over, until it comes second nature to them.

The Ne-dom has trouble finding the patience for that. An ENFP will only do it if it’s absolute what their Fi values and desires – if their lifelong dream is to become a pianist, they will learn, force themselves to take the “slow path” (unlike the speed train they’re usually on); but in general, slow and steady brings success route does not come naturally to them. So, they’ll be an expert, detailed pianist… and in all the rest of their life, back to half-assed fast.

No, where the ISFJ fails is in abstract concepts. Seeing what is possible with a positive attitude, and believing it can and will happen; being excited for it (instead of fearful). Inferior Ne misreads situations – badly. It attributes the wrong motives to things, because it’s out of touch with the environment. That “see the problem coming and head it off” that Ne/Te is so good at, inferior Ne can’t do. You will see the difference, because strong Ne resolves issues in the present and near future skillfully, whereas a low Ne’s hasty impulsive “fix” may worsen the problem and/or underestimate the severity of it. High Ne is better at accurately evaluating genuine threats; low Ne may choose the wrong threat to focus on, and miss the actual one, because of Si/Ne’s tendency to build toward something, rather than Ne/Si’s tendency to be “drifting” in possibilities.

And, of course, FiTe and FeTi’s methods differ. FiTe never mirrors people’s feelings and does not engage in messing with people for fun; sooner or later, you are going to see tert-Te come out and shove people out of the way to get something done, with an attitude of “either help or move.” FeTi does mirror people’s feelings, with the result that the FeTi can lose a sense of their own feelings and what they want, while being better at reading other people’s needs. Fe will try persuasion and organizing others to accomplish, at times (not always, sometimes ISFJs want to be left alone to work), but it’s focus is always on what others want, need, and how they’re feeling. Fi’s focus is always on being “true to myself” (but with a healthy Fi, “but also kind to YOU”).

A 2 fix isn’t going to magically make a Fi able to mirror people; they will simply do kind things for others, using their Te to accomplish it, and crave love. Think about Arwen in The Lord of the Rings. As a Fi, she wanted to keep social harmony with her loved ones. She tried to please her father by leaving Middle-earth – and then returned, because it wasn’t true to herself, to her Fi, to what she wanted. Despite being devoted to Aragorn, and a “helper” (2) who motivated, encouraged, and pushed him to be all he could be, she still felt a strong need to be true to herself. She helped, but it was what SHE thought he needed (Fi detachment from Other). Compare that to a 2 Fe, who will ACTUALLY FEEL what people need, and use that to give it to them.

Margaery Tyrell in Game of Thrones is a core 2 and a Fe. She knows what and how to appeal to others, how to seduce them, make them like her, how to smooth things over with them. It’s all about being whatever they need her to be, and in so doing, advancing her own cause (to become queen). But it’s still instant and fully aware of what they want; no guessing.

A 6 anywhere in a stack will make an intuitive more risk-prone than the stereotypes for their type; it will bring out more of a tendency to play it safe and even stay home / not go wandering in an ENFP, but their Si will STILL be awful. 6 doesn’t repair the speed train. They will still make it all up as they go along, and have unrealistic expectations for themselves, and make mistakes based in not thinking through the details. The 6 and Si-dom is pretty much stereotypical 6. Worst-case scenario prone. Risk-adverse. A fear of the unknown. But they will still be good at everything the ENFP isn’t, namely… details. Learning. And repeat, repeat, repeat to reach perfection. A 9 fix will further make the ENFP want to “suppress” their Fi, to get along; make them shut up to be liked and avoid conflict, but there will still be bursts of tert-Te bossiness and bluntness (control freak, and over-using Te, poorly – like a bull in a china shop) you’ll never find in an ISFJ.

Their flaws: the ENFP moves too fast, because they didn’t stop to collect details and everything they needed before they speculated; the ISFJ processes things more slowly and sometimes misses out, because it took them longer to reach a (more detail-accurate) conclusion than the ENFP (but the ENFP’s Ne might have been bang on, it’s just a vague / half-constructed argument).

- ENFP Mod

[safeforwark]

The Sun Chases the Moon [SFW]

A romance fanfiction set in Final Fantasy XIV. When I saw these two interact in post-Stormblood I knew I had to write about them becoming a couple!

Magnai has long searched for his true love, his Nhaama. An encounter with Y'shtola Rhul leaves him certain (again) that the Sun has found his Moon. After a swift rejection however, he is left to think about what could have been, or perhaps what could be...

Contains spoilers for a post-Stormblood scene. I hope you enjoy kupo!

“Nhaama’s power is yours to wield!”  Sadu, Khatun of the Dotharl, spoke in euphoric glee after extended battle with the Warrior of Light.  “What does the Sun say to that?”

“Hmph. The Sun is not driven by base motives such as yours.”  Magnai’s breath was labored, having just crossed blades with Lord Hien and Y’shtola.

“But aye, they have been judged…and found worthy.”  Magnai stood and expressed his recognition of their strength.  “The Sun shall answer you call.”

As soon as the affirmations of alliance were clear, Magnai wasted no time in turning the gaze of his brilliant yellow eyes to Y’shtola. Her face was new amongst the people not of the Steppe. Her skill was astounding, and her grace unlike anything he had ever seen. Her platinum hair framed a sharp, learned gaze from eyes of pale silver. He had not imagined such profound power from so scholarly and beautiful.

“You. By what are you called?”

Y’shtola hesitated to answer.  “Y’shtola. Why?”

“Are you…” Magnai mumbled to himself. Unable to break his gaze from the cultured conjurer. His mind swirled with revelation. He wondered if it were not possible that his destined meeting, the introduction to his Nhaama, could it not be here and now?

“You shine with the full moon’s light, your healing touch as gentle as Nhaama’s love…”  Magnai’s voice grew louder in excitement at his proclamation.

“Beholding you, I am all but certain! My Nhaama is no woman of the Steppe!”  Magnai stepped forward, his intention clear to all at this point. He stepped close to gaze into Y’shtola’s eyes.

“Now, look into my eyes. Could it be…? Could you be...?”  Magnai smiled, his stalwart confidence allowing him to be overjoyed in the moment of his union.

Y’sthola smiled sweetly at the Au Ra man.  “I am…” Her lips became straight and serious as before, her words plain and direct.  “…not interested little sun. Try again when you have become a man.”

Magnai was slow to react, his mouth falling open in shock. He had suffered countless insults from Sadu’s sharp tongue, and had admittedly been rebuffed by those who had turned out not to be his Nhaama many times. Yet somehow Y’shtola’s rejection cut him unfathomably deep.

“Little…?”

A burst of laughter followed from Sadu, who began to chide him relentlessly. Suffering such grievous insult after being rejected set Magnai’s blood to boiling, and he drew his axe without hesitation. Scarcely had the battle begun that Y’shtola elected to depart, scoffing at the asinine nature of the Xaela ‘diplomacy’, or lack thereof.

After extended battle, which did little to provide succor to his wounded pride, Magnai returned to the Dusk Throne and retired to his chambers. He wished to channel his anger into breaking something, to splitting a rock in two or crushing Dzo bones into dust. Yet something strange happened when he lifted his axe or clenched his fist. He felt blocked. The Miqo’te woman’s words rang as clear in his ears as when she spoke them.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, frustrated and defeated. Her smile was so beauteous, she had shown it to him just long enough for him to remember, yet it was gone just as swiftly, and replaced with her stern face as she rebuked him. As angry as it made him, the Oronir recognized the strong, and strength she had. How could he dismiss the admonishment of one such as her then? She had shown her wisdom to be beyond her years, there were no flaws with which to tarnish her image. And her image was indeed burned into his mind…

---

The sun was setting on another day in Mor Dhona, and the Rising Stones had grown quieter as the hustle and bustle of scions and adventurers died down. Save for Tataru’s work station…

“I’m not sure I understand…” Tataru looked wide eyed at the towering Au Ra before her.

Magnai shook his head, annoyed.  “What is not to understand. I am here to join the order, this is the fold that calls themselves the Scions of the Seventh Dawn is it not?”

“Well yes, but, you’re…” Tataru stammered, she had dealt with questionable applicants before, but dismissal based on a lack of experience or credential would probably only serve to stoke this one’s anger more.

Magnai clenched his hands into fists.  “I have journeyed far little one, do you mean to play games with the Sun?!”

“Eep!”  Tataru jumped out of her seat and shuffled towards the door to the back room.  “I-I must consult a senior member you see, er, we will get back to you, terribly sorry!”

As the Lalafell vanished into the back Magnai sat down with his arms folded. The pure ridiculousness of the lengths he must go to. For her though… it would all be worth it to win his Nhaama…

After several minutes Alphinaud emerged from the back with Tataru in tow.

Alphinaud approached and extended his hand in greeting.  “Magnai was it? It is an honor to speak with the khatun of the Oronir. I am given to understand you are quite the magnanimous leader on the steppe.”

Tataru eyed Magnai sideways, leaning shyly toward Alphinaud as she tried to whisper to him. “Alphinaud that’s not what I—"

“It is the duty of the Sun to shepherd his people.”  Magnai hesitated, but then grasped Alphinaud’s hand.  “This land is far from the steppe however, and I am come to learn of its ways, of you Eorzeans.”

Alphinaud tilted his head a little, but still wore a diplomatic smile.  “Full glad are we to have your interest, let alone your presence. Pray tell though, why do you wish to become a Scion? Certainly there are other ways to learn of this land and its people.”

Magnai’s stern face clearly became focused on something altogether in his mind. He tilted his head back and folded his arms.  “Because the moon herself is of your fold, and of your people.”

Alphinaud and Tataru stood with slightly confused expressions, unsure of how to respond.

Magnai returned his gaze downward to the extant world.  “If this is the way of fate, than it is the responsibility of the Sun to shine for all his people. I must act not for the people of my blood alone, but hers as well. I would honor the moon in this way.”

Tataru tugged on Alphinaud’s sleeve, attempting again to deliver her words in a hushed tone. “This seems rather suspicious, I don’t think—"

“Very well!” Alphinaud smile as he boldly raised his voice.  “I would normally think to cross examine you more, but your passion as a defender of the people is plain. Your willingness to incorporate a larger body of people not your own is truly altruistic, and will serve you well.”

Tataru’s jaw slowly dropped open, she looked at Magnai, and then back at Alphinaud, and back at Magnai.

Alphinaud continued, “You see I am also not of Eorzea, in fact a great deal of the senior scions hail from the shores of Sharlayan, including the likes of myself, Urianger, and Y’shtola.”

Magnai’s expression changed upon hearing Y’shtola’s name. The change was ever so slight, but Tataru raised an eyebrow, noticing his widened eyes and retraction of his scowl.

Magnai nodded, slightly more enthusiastic for dealing with him.  “I am… grateful… for your acceptance. I would be happy to stand beside these… senior members.”

Alphinaud put a hand to his chin.  “Well, I certainly needn’t question your strength. I received a first hand account of your prowess during the Naadam from the Warrior of Light themselves. If you are truly willing to put yourself into potential danger for us, mayhap you could greatly aid some of our senior members…”

Tataru folder her arms and narrowed her eyes as she sat down, watching as Alphinaud chattered away with Magnai.

“It sounds as though stealth does not suit your skillset, and Urangier would not have much use for your axe… One of the members I mentioned, she is a healer. She is powerful in her own right, but having a warrior such as yourself would ward her from danger, and her skills would no doubt bolster your own battle capability.”

As they begin to walk away, Tataru silently shook her head. This could not possibly end well…

---

The sun was shining brilliantly over Vyllbrand.

“My… companion and I require passage across.”  Y’shtola passed a purse of gil to the ferrymen. She glanced back at Magnai. He was staring at her again, a small smile on his face. Rather he was almost always staring at her, which incidentally seemed to be the only time he saw reason to smile about anything. In her opinion the entire situation was as unwelcome as it was unnecessary. She sighed as the pair stepped into the small dingy.

Alphinaud had foisted it upon her without much choice. She remembered the conversation between them, how Alphinaud had seen ‘great potential for an ally’ and ‘a chance to diversify the scion’s staff’. While the order had decided on a loose structure, he was being awfully presumptuous to make such a decision without consulting anyone. Then he had brought him all the way to her with no warning! Y’shtola furrowed her brow. She had nowhere else to send him, he hadn’t the first clue about Eorzea, and Alphinaud had quickly managed to wash his hands of all responsibility.

“What troubles you, my… ah… Y’shtola.”  Magnai caught himself, she had put a swift end to being called the endearing title of Nhaama.

Y’shtola swept a hand through her hair.  “Nothing of consequence…”

She gestured to the approaching isle of Umbra, and the grand lighthouse skewered with corrupted crystal. “The Pharos Sirius, it was once the grandest single structure on Vyllbrand.”  Y’shtola had already quickly adopted the habit of explaining visible points of interest as if a common tour guide. This was often the only thing that would break his gaze away from her for a time.

Magnai took in the structure, thinking that from the very top it must be much taller than even the Dawn Throne.  “It is impressive to reach to the heavens so. Yet now it is…”

“Derelict, aye…” Y’shtola stared at the enormous shard that pierced the tower, clearly seeing it’s outline because of the corrupted aether within.  “This but one of many things destroyed in the calamity, and it is not the worst of it.”

Y’shtola looked toward the mainland coastline.  “For one who knew the lay of this land, it is a constant reminder. Where you now see barren bramble once stood verdant grains. Where you now see cliffs and peaks once lay fields and streams. Where you see rubble stood homes, and the families that built them…”

As Y’shtola’s voice faded from a hush to silence, the boat rocked gently with the waves, its small splashes in the water the only noise to break the silence. Magnai crossed his arms and looked at all he could see around him, noting every uneven break in the terrain, every set of decayed foliage, and finally the giant crystal shard that pierced the pharos.

“…To have the very heavens fall around you. The people of this land have suffered greatly.” Magnai’s tone was heavy.

The distinctly emotional response surprised Y’shtola. He seemed to truly take the gravity of her explanation to heart. She found herself staring at him for a change, watching his stern expression as he seemed to reflect upon the perspective she had presented him. They had only been traveling together a few days, mayhap she needn’t be so quick to judgement, her lack of patience with people these days was reminding her too much of her old mentor…

Magnai stood as the dingy approached the shores of Umbra, rocking the small boat with his size. His grip tightened on his axe.  “This place is abandoned then? Will there be aught to fight?”

Y’shtola gripped the sides of the rocking boat and flattened her ears, thinking that on the other hand she shouldn’t forget all she had witnessed on the steppe.

As the boat moored itself against the sand beneath it Y’shtola hopped over the side with Magnai following close behind. The waves lapped at her boots as she walked ashore. As they approached Y’shtola’s senses could make out the worn stairway leading up the Pharos. The scene was quiet, which would be conducive to her work, had she not a curious and love-struck follower ilms away from her at all times.

“Alright, I need to examine the crystals. It is dangerous to linger about them for too long, so keep your distance for awhi—”

Both heard the soft skittering in the sand approaching. Magnai raised his axe as several mantises appeared from the rocky terrain.

“Seems my quiet was not meant to be…”  Y’shtola sighed.

---

Though their pairing was farcical to Y’shtola, she did not dismiss Magnai, assuming he would tire of his duties or of her before long and return to Othard of his own volition. Days turned to weeks however, and as their time together stretched into months Y’shtola started forgetting to wonder when he would leave. It started to become all too second nature to plan accordingly for having him travel with her.

Much of her time was devoted to research, trying to understand the changes in the aether around the world. Magnai was a useful protector if naught else during such times, clearing hostile beasts and saving Y’shtola the trouble. Any other time he was simply observing her or asking questions about the world around them. Familiarity made his gaze less and less bothersome, and she began to enjoy teaching him about Eorzea, wondering if the self-satisfaction of enlightening such a wild and uncouth individual was how Matoya had felt teaching her.

On a typical overcast day, Y’shtola and Magnai set out for Oakwood. She had been asked by Limsan officials to look into the local fauna behaving strangely, with no naturalist able to discern why. They walked in quiet along a gentle stream as Y’shtola tried to spot any unusual patterns in the aether. Suddenly the sound of splashing water and screams broke the silence.

“Please!! Help!!”  A child’s voice, panicked and sobbing.

They both spied the young girl immediately, running across the shallow stream ahead of them. A group of three coeurl’s darted about on her sides, making ready to pounce on the child. Both Y’shtola and Magnai sprinted forward without hesitation.

Y’shtola shouted, “Magnai, the right!”

As Y’shtola jumped directly in front of the child Magnai flew passed them, bringing his axe down as quick as lightning on one of the coeurls, cleaving it against the ground before it could react. The other coeurl leapt at him with fangs bared, but was met with the flat side of Magnai’s weapon as he absorbed the force of its leap, and then threw the beast to the side. By the time it pounced back onto its legs, Magnai was bearing down on it, one slash of his axe leaving it bereft of life.

The third coeurl sprinted directly at Y’shtola and the child. Y’shtola conjured a flurry of biting wind that assailed it from the front, causing the beast to flinch and redirect its course. Before it could make another attempt Y’shtola focused on her staff, and a strong line of white light sliced through the air. The beast took only a single step before falling to the ground, thereafter motionless.

With the threat removed they turned their attention to the whimpering girl.

Y’shtola kneeled down in front of her.  “You’re alright now little one. What were you doing out here?”

The girl sniffled as she spoke.  “I… I jus’ wanted t’ fish… My da’ never lets me…”

Y’shtola nodded. “Mayhap for good reason, this place is not safe for a child on her own.”

The child whimpered, “E’ says… the wolves tha’ take our livestock would get me… but I ‘ate stayin’ inside the fence all day…”

Y’shtola shook her head. “It is for your own safety little one...”

“Nonsense.”  Magnai stepped forward toward them. Y’shtola looked at him in surprise, confused as to why he would interject.

The intimidating Au Ra stood dauntingly high over the young hyur girl. The shaken child looked at him anxiously, fearful of his intimidating presence. Magnai pulled a hatchet from his robe, presenting it to the little girl.

“Take it in your hand.”

The girl nervously reached for and put her hand on the handle. As Magnai let go the heavy hatchet fell to the ground with her fingers still around it. The girl put her strength into lifting it back up, the tool clearly being unwieldly in her hands.

Magnai addressed her sternly.  “Do not dishonor your family by becoming food for the beasts. You must find the strength to protect your land and your people. Thus do we earn the right to take of its bounty. Do not venture forth again until you can split a stone as big as you with your swing.”

The girl stared at him wide eyed and nodded. After it became clear Magnai had nothing else to say to her, she pointed down the path.  “My ‘ome is there…”

Magnai crossed his arms. “You set out on this journey by your own will, you must be able to complete that which you begin. Go forth, we shall follow.”

The girl nodded nervously. She turned around and began walking down the path, stopping and turning her head to look back at them every few steps. Magnai’s piercing gaze would drive her to take another few steps forward before having to look back again to ensure they were still there. As she forged on Y’shtola stood up and walked with Magnai as they trailed behind her.

She had not expected someone who had shown such disregard for simple diplomacy to have such a way with children. She felt remiss in calling him uncultured, even if she had found the Xaela practices oafish and savage. Now as she looked at Magnai she saw the aura of his aether differently, in a way she somehow never noticed before. His aura always looked so fiery and intense, she thought his ill-tempered and capricious nature to be the cause. Though as intense as it could be, she now observed how gently it glowed, so bright yet… a warm, welcoming incandescence.

“I am surprised at how well you handled the child. A bit blunt, but you gave her direction while warning her of the danger.”  Y’shtola’s tone belied her curiosity.

Magnai kept his gaze fixed on the young girl walking ahead of them.  “Children are not beasts to be tamed. They should be guided to reach their own heights, with their own actions, that is how we Oronir teach the value of strength.”

Magnai smiled to himself. “I can tell you were not brought up on so different of lessons, your will is like that of the steppe. I imagine they who raised you knew well the value of strength.”

Y’shtola’s ears perked up, her lips parting without sound as Matoya flashed through her mind. To think that he of all people could have such insight. She chuckled quietly to herself and smiled.

“Perhaps…”

---

The sun was already sinking below the horizon as Y’shtola and Magnai stepped onto the docks in Kugane.

Magnai looked around at the Hingan city.  “It has been a long time since I set out from this land to find you.”

Y’shtola scoffed at him. “Perhaps had you thought to investigate my identity rather than blindly asking everyone my name you would have found me much sooner.”

Magnai furled his brow. “Hmph.”

“Come.”  Y’shtola began walking along the pier.  “The Ruby Sea will be easier to cross by day, we’ll resume our journey to Othard tomorrow.”

As they crossed the city Magnai looked to the sky. The paper lanterns were hardly needed this evening, their soft glow outcompeted by the brilliant light of the full moon. He took a deep breath, gazing at its luster.

“Are you coming? Or do you intend to take in the night life?”  Y’shtola’s voice called out to him.

He looked back down from the heavens to see her standing in front of the inn. A sweet smile on her face. The same smile he had seen so long ago, on the day he first met her. He smiled himself, and then followed her inside.

---

“It has been too long since we were able to bathe and have a proper night’s rest.”  Y’shtola mused as she closed the door, returning from the baths. Y’shtola had donned a pure white yukata, beautifully complimenting her fair skin, much of which could be seen as the garment barely draped around her thighs. Magnai’s red skin conveniently masked the flushing of his face.

Y’shtola sat on the edge of the cot, looking over at Magnai, who sat at the window looking out over the inn’s moonlit garden. Tataru’s frugality was beginning to become extreme, one of her demands being that those afield together share lodgings. By now Y’shtola had become far too used to the company to complain.

“How does it look?”

Magnai turned to look back at her.  “It is lovely. The moon shines in great splendor tonight. It is… a shame you cannot behold it.”

Y’shtola shook her head. “I am still blessed to see a great deal. In ways I might never have imagined.”

Magnai stood and faced her, dramatically holding out his hands.  “Just as well, the sight still pales in comparison to your own radiance.”

Y’shtola tilted her head, letting her smile show as she did.  “Now on that I will simply have to take your word.”

Magnai walked over and kneeled down in front of Y’shtola.  “Tell me, long have I feared asking one who truly sees all as it is. What do you see, when you look at me?”

“I see…”  the strange mixture of emotion in his voice struck a chord with Y’shtola. She reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.  “A brilliant glow, it is bright and passionate enough to stand out among many, almost overbearingly so. Yet it shines softly, with purpose on all it touches. It is warm and welcoming, like the daybreak after a long night.”

Magnai nodded slowly, then reached to take up one of Y’shtola’s hands.  “Your words are succor to my heart. Though all my time with you has been a blessing. To be the Sun, yet see so little beyond thine own radiance is folly. You have been as my moon, showing me that the Sun’s brilliance is naught without aught to shine on.”

Y’shtola was taken aback by Magnai’s uncharacteristically eloquent speech. Squeezing the hand that held hers.  “I am moved that you would credit me with such. The… Sun, should be proud of his own accomplishments. Though I cannot help but wonder If he’s been listening to Thancred spin words for passing beauties.”

Magnai shook his head. “The Sun shines for all, but chases only after his moon.”

His free hand gingerly touched Y’shtola’s cheek as he leaned in toward her. Y’shtola looked at him softly, without speaking a word in response. As his face neared hers, he pulled her in until their lips met. His gentle demeanor didn’t surprise Y’shtola so much anymore. As their lips held together, she wondered if she just hadn’t been able to see it at first, or if their time together had brought out a different side of him.

The side of her yukata slipped down over her right shoulder as they kissed once more, and again, and again…

Outside their window in the garden it was quiet, with only the glowing moon as witness until it sank from the sky to give way to the dawn.

---

Y’shtola woke first, her unconscious stretching waking Magnai as she moved in his arms. They wearily opened their eyes and met each other’s gaze. They smiled at each other as thoughts of the many months leading to previous night drifted through their mind. Unusual for him, Magnai felt himself at a loss for words. Holding Y’shtola in his arms, feeling affection and warmth from her embrace, he finally felt… content.

Y’shtola sighed softly, speaking in a hushed tone, her normally strong words hinting at embarrassment. “I suppose this makes me… your Nhaama...”

They hugged each other a little tighter…

---

Magnai walked down the trail ahead of Y’shtola, his axe sitting on his shoulder as he took long, energetic steps. He reached the crest of a hill overlooking the valley path towards the Azim Steppe.

“Ah, we are so close to the Steppe! I can smell it’s familiar air on the breeze!”

Y’shtola chuckled as she walked up beside him.  “I’ve not seen you so giddy since we found that Wind-up Sun in the markets.”

Magnai nodded.  “It is momentous for the Sun to finally return to the Steppe, and when I tell them I now have my Moo—OOMPH.”

A stiff arm to the stomach cut Magnai short, as Y’shtola stared sternly.

“and I told you not to call me such til we are behind closed doors.”  Y’shtola gave him a coy smile.  “My dearest Sun.”