#I haven't read the books myself this is from quotes and what some book readers have said

[alicentflorent]

What different side of Daemon was his relationship with Laena supposed to show?

According to what I've seen, He loved her in the books and was happy with their life and there were meant to be some nice moments of them. he is also meant to be a better father, not a great one, but a better one. it would have been interesting to see post time jump that he grew up and was happy with his new family and then going back to his old toxic ways after losing the woman he loves. Who was never meant to be a placeholder for Rhaenyra.

[almondcup]

Identity and Truth in Alias Grace

Although I haven't finished reading this book yet, I felt I needed to put some notes down unless I forget and before I procrastinate.

All the same, Murderess is a strong word to have attached to you. It has a smell to it, that word - musky and oppressive, like dead flowers in a vase. Sometimes at night I whisper it over to myself: Murderess, Murderess. It rustles, like a taffeta skirt across the floor. Murderer is merely brutal. It’s like a hammer, or a lump of metal. I would rather be a murderess than a murderer, if those are the only choices.

In one of the most elegant, violent, poetic quotes in the novel, we find Grace trying to adopt a word for herself. Murderess is how she has been described, at the time of judgement, and throughout history. Here she tries to identify with it, and make it her own. It demonstrates her attempt at maintaining some limited control over her identity, and her perception of herself, when society has already assigned her one.

And I wonder, how can I be all of these different things at once?

The quote refers to Grace’s musings regarding the various descriptions of her transcribed in the papers. From conflicting descriptions of "inhuman demon" or "innocent victim", to even basic misconception of physical attributes such as green eyes or blue eyes. She struggles to keep pace with an image of herself which is beyond her, and which she does not see in herself.

You should ask the lawyers and the judges, and the newspaper men, they seem to know my story better than I do myself.

A lot of this difficulty in maintaining control over her own story is as a result of how her case was sensationalised in the newspapers. Grace’s story is one that everyone believes they know themselves, thoroughly, as if they were present. We see this even in modern cases today, and perhaps it is even exacerbated as a result of social media, where even those completely detached from the situation claim to know the ultimate truth from the comfort of their homes.

When others are vehemently confident that their opinion of you (and your case) is correct, you begin to question what you know of yourself.

And that’s what it was like at the trial, I was there in the box of the dock but I might as well have been made of cloth, and stuffed, with a china head; and I was shut up inside that doll of myself, and my true voice could not get out.

However it was not merely the media who sculpted Grace’s persona for the sake of judgement. The lawyers too told Grace what to say, and how to behave. In this case, the lawyers also sculpted Grace’s identity, either to paint her as a manipulator or as a mislead fool - both being extremes in order to convince others of her supreme darkness, or else light. Identity in the eyes of the court was a picture to paint, more than a given truth.

Now, many years in the future, we follow Grace recounting her story before Simon. In this instance, Grace has full control over her own portrayal, and as a reader we are reminded of this multiple times. She continuously shapes her own identity in his mind based on what she chooses to show or say.

But I don’t say this. I look at him stupidly. I have a good stupid look which I have practised.

Because he was so thoughtful to tell my story, and to make it as interesting as I can, and rich in incident, as a sort of return gift to him

But in Grace’s power, we also must understand that her portrayal may also be biased, according to how she wishes to portray herself. We must accept there is no singular known truth in retelling.

Today when I woke up there was a beautiful pink sunrise, with the mist lying over the fields like a white soft cloud of muslin, and the sun shining through the layers of it all blurred and rosy like a peach gently on fire. In fact I have no idea of what kind of a sunrise there was.

I wouldn't describe identity as inherently fragile, but it is certainly elastic. It can be moulded, sculpted, and stretched. It can transform into unrecognisable shapes when travelling from mind to mind, story to story. It is an adaptive thing, and an uncontrollable thing. It is not always possible to choose how we are presented to others, and even when we present ourselves we do not often do it honestly. The theme of identity is in the name of the book: Alias Grace. Identity can be an alias we assume. There are many of them, and we can choose which to adopt, but be frustrated by the ones that are given to us.

[vianwrites]

Okay, so for some weird reason, Tumblr isn't letting my replies stick. So, I'm so sorry to the people who replied to my post about Fanfic commenting. I'm not sure why the replies are not sticking, but I've already sent a support ticket about this issue. Just know that I've read them and I'll just post my replies here for the meantime... @nic-stars It really is heartbreaking. I remember getting replies that even theorizes what would happen next in my stories. Those were really interesting and fun. There were even really great constructive criticism ones that helped me grow as a writer and ones where you can feel connected with the reader and really being part of an incredible fandom. @aconstructofamind I feel fortunate that I haven't gotten a mean comment since returning. I'm all for criticisms as long as they are helpful, constructive, and worded in a way that doesn't demean or belittle anyone. It's really disheartening if meanness is now the norm, even when it comes to comments in fanfiction (or any fanwork). Also, I LOVE your handle. :D @pippinoftheshire Your handle made me smile, haha, thank you for that. Anyways, this should really be something brought back, and not because like we're starved for it (but, yeah, we are. a bit. haha), but also because it's a way for us to connect with our readers, too. Like, tell us how you feel (but in a way that doesn't demean or belittle what we made and poured our hearts out, please); tell us if we wrote something wrong and how can we make it better; tell us why you hated what this character did in the story or why you agree with their actions. Connect with us. We are part of the same community. @typicxlcato Don't be scared to be the first! Comments are always appreciated by authors. Even just a single phrase or just giving a quote that you loved from the story and telling the author you loved that? That can make anyone's day. :) @amliza By all means, haha. I'm currently on a commenting spree as well on all the fanfic's I'm currently reading. :D @she-elf4 The thing about an author/writer answering their own posited question of whether what they/we wrote or not is good is that we (often) are biased about it. That's why we need comments to tell us in what area we needed improving or if we did well. It's the same reason why book reviews exist. It's not just to tell others of why a book is good or bad, but to give an author a sense of what they need to improve on. I've never heard of commenting rules before, so that's a bit shocking for me. The only rule I adhere to when writing comments/reviews it to be kind and if I want to criticize an author for something, to do so in a constructive, respecting manner because I have to remind myself (and know from my own experience) that whoever wrote what I was reading poured enough of their time and talent (and maybe even a bit of their heart and soul) into that work. Honestly, though, I am curious about what these rules you speak of are.

@13flags Who ever said I (or anyone who agreed with this post) am/are only writing for reviews? I don't know where you got that from? Haha. The post I made pointed out that the reason I would love to get a review is for feedback, to grow as an author. If you write with only your own lens to view your own writing with no one to critique or comment on it, how will you know you are doing well? The reviews/comments I had the honor of getting from my own fics were kind enough to provide constructive criticisms, which is always good for an author. Also, it's nice to get validation for your writing, even if your objective is to share your stories to the world. Comments/Reviews are like symbolic to some (maybe most?) writers that they had been heard and can even be bridges for found friendships (as is the case with me. I made good friends from them). So, it's really nice.

[bi-bard]

I Find Myself Running Home to Your Sweet Nothings - Dean Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: I Find Myself Running Home to Your Sweet Nothings

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader

Based On: Sweet Nothing

Word Count: 860 words

Warning(s): small mention of past trauma

Summary: Dean finds himself caught up in a soft moment with (Y/n).

Author's Note: He's soft. He deserves a little bit of fluff.

Also, the book quote is from Out of Love by Hazel Hayes. You should all read it if you haven't. I fucking adore it.

MIDNIGHTS - TAYLOR SWIFT WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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It was early.

Earlier than Dean usually liked to wake up when there wasn't a hunt of some form.

But when he rolled over and saw that (Y/n) was gone, he had no choice other than pushing himself out of bed and searching the bunker.

He started in the library. Then went straight to the kitchen. Nothing living was in either room.

He was kind of blindly stumbling through the halls, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes in between checking rooms with open doors.

Dean didn't find (Y/n) until his slow search made it to the Dean Cave.

(Y/n) was curled up on the little couch, covered by a blanket that they'd stolen from the foot of the bed they shared with Dean. The only part of (Y/n) that was still showing from under the blanket was their head and one arm so they could hold the book and flip pages.

Dean felt a grin form on his face as he looked at them.

They were completely absorbed in the book. Their eyebrows furrowed a bit as they focused on the page. They bit at their lip a little bit. Not enough to rip the skin, just enough to almost roll it between their teeth.

They were just so... precious.

Dean didn't quite understand how someone that could easily scare the crap out of him could so easily look like the gentlest being in the world. It simply wasn't fair.

"Morning."

Dean jumped a bit when (Y/n) spoke up. He didn't think they even knew he was there. They were a hunter, of course, they noticed when there was suddenly a new person in the room. It was part of the job.

"Morning," Dean grumbled.

He walked over to them.

(Y/n) looked up at him as he did, happily accepting as he leaned down to press his lips to theirs. Their bookmark slid between the pages as their other hand found its way from under the blanket to cup the side of Dean's face.

(Y/n) pulled away a few moments later, letting their thumb run over the scruff on his face.

The look in their eyes almost overwhelmed Dean. It was usually like that.

They always looked at him like there was nothing wrong with him. Like nothing about him was dented or bent or just plain broken. Around them, he wasn't a hunter or a soldier or a weapon or anything. He was just a person. He was just Dean.

He wished that he could know how they made it all seem so... simple.

He wished that he could find a way to explain that feeling to them without feeling like an idiot.

(Y/n) moved the blanket up, silently motioning for Dean to join them on the couch.

He was happy to do so.

He laid his head down on their chest and wrapped his arms around them.

(Y/n) let out a deep breath before picking up their book again. They were happy to quietly exist with him. Just being in each other's company was enough for them.

"Read to me," Dean poked (Y/n) side as the sentence came out.

"I don't think you'll like this book much," (Y/n) replied, chuckling at how his voice made him sound like a toddler asking for a snack. "Plus, I'm like 150 pages in, you might not know what's going on."

"I just want to listen to your voice," he explained, shifting like he was trying to get even closer to them than he already was. "Please?"

(Y/n) chuckled again before nodding. "Fine."

Dean hummed in appreciation, briefly lifting his head enough to press a kiss to (Y/n)'s torso. His lips brushed the spot just under (Y/n)'s ribcage. It made (Y/n)'s face heat up for a few moments. He had a way of making them nervous and flustered with small acts like that.

(Y/n) didn't find it fair that he could still do that after so long together.

They waited for Dean to get comfortable again before they started reading, "I woke up to a mammoth email from Ciara and spent the morning hunched over my laptop in a smoke-filled café trying to put together proposals for several different articles; she was meeting with her investors the next day and needed pitched from every department. I was now, I discovered, a department..."

(Y/n) continued reading paragraph after paragraph, page after page. And then, they noticed a shift in the quiet noise of the room.

They looked down to find Dean's breathing had slowed and snores were escaping him. They bit their lip for a moment and relaxed further into the couch.

Their hand found their way to his hair, quietly comforting him as they went back to reading silently.

Dean couldn't help falling asleep.

Not because he had woken up earlier than he wanted, but because (Y/n) made it so easy for him to fall back asleep. For just a few hours, he was able to feel safe. He didn't get that very often, so he was going to take full advantage of that feeling now that he had it.

And (Y/n) was more than happy to offer that to him.

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Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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[madarasgirl]

Thank you very much for the virtual hugs, all those compliments are a reality, you are simply incredible and so is your work! :)💖

I understand that you are afraid of "spoil" the story since I'm almost sure that most of us readers of your fanfic were looking for something a little spicy and romantic when we started reading the story haha, more than anything I was surprised by the level of crudeness in the one in which you wrote the chapter, I didn't expect it but that doesn't mean I didn't like it.

And yes you are right, although the world can be a beautiful place, it is also ruthless and cruel and in a war is where this dark and miserable part of the human being is most reflected, I love history in general and it is interesting study wars but it is still depressing to read all the horrible acts and consequences of war, that is something that hellsing executed very well. (Especially the Nazi issue) 😥

Wow, you really took the time, it shows that you are taking this seriously and it is admirable. I understand that it is stressful since there are many themes and historical references within hellsing, cheer up!

I hope I don't bore you with so many questions but I'm curious... Have you read the novel Dracula by Bram Stoker? I know it's a bit silly because you are literally making a fanfic of Hellsing and Dracula himself but maybe you haven't read it, I honestly haven't read it since I want to read it from the physical book haha.

Uhh last thing, I love that the reader does have a role in the story and is not just "in the way", I also like that the secondary characters also have a leading role, it was sad to read the death of the reader's bodyguard 😢, Thank you very much for answering my questions! 💖

I don't speak much English so I'm sorry if the question isn't very understandable. 😓

Never apologize for your English! I understand you perfectly well and in fact, you are more articulate than some native English speakers 😊! I think it's very admirable when people read in different languages, especially unfamiliar ones, to improve your language abilities. And I live for long questions/comments 😘.

Yes there is an element to not wanting to ruin the story when it is going well. I think the themes up until now have been generally 'safe' for a majority of the audience. However, another reader asked me sometime last year whether Millennium will feature and I decided to include them in this fic. Ever since I made this decision, the plan was always to go big with Millennium and have them do terrible things on screen. It just took awhile to get there. So the audience indeed got some of that spice and romance...and now MORE! The entire spectrum of feels! Muahaha. It probably was very surprising to see some of those less appetizing new tags, but this was how I envisioned the story going and I'm thankful for you and the other readers who are still here.

Sometimes I need a break from reading what war crimes happened. Or I do a double-take to check if I read correctly. People seriously do horrific things to each other, monstrous things. It'll be a reoccurring theme with Millennium. I also understand that some people wouldn't enjoy seeing the Reader sexually assaulted when it's technically supposed to be them. At the same time, I just can't see her getting out of this scot-free. It'd be unrealistic for nothing to happen to her as a Nazi prisoner.

Okay so funny thing is, I didn't read the Bram Stoker novel. I make fun of myself for exactly the same reason, but at this point...ignorance is bliss 😬. That saying where "the more you learn, the less you know" applies. I'm scared I'll learn something huge and feel like changing something this far into the story haha. Instead I just Google specific facts I want to know from the novel. Also, while the Reader can be interpreted as being like Mina Harker, I myself would rather not be Mina, a reincarnation of her, or any descendent of her. I am me (accidental Major quote) and I'd rather self-insert as myself. One day I'll read Stoker's novel and poke more fun at my fic.

Omg thank you so much! Technically, reader-inserts are supposed to be a 'less active' blank slate. At the same time, in a longer fic, it doesn't make sense to me for her to be completely passive with no personality, a passenger to her existence in her own story, so to say. That would make the story bland and uninteresting. It is also impossible to create a Reader who would behave as every single person who reads this fic would. Instead, I guess the audience can think of her as an OC without the physical descriptors and name? At least that is how I experience other writers' reader-inserts. She's still a little bit of a damsel in distress, but I like it and think it can be forgiven in her case, since she's just a civilian human mired in the world of the supernatural.

Gareth the bodyguard was a good guy. I'm not sure if you are familiar with the 2001 Hellsing TV series. That is where Captain Ferguson, Andrew, Gareth Henderson, and Chris Pickman come from. They are elites and 3 of them were great men. I liked how the Hellsing paramilitary from the TV series was an actual trained force that dealt with ghouls and vampires, unlike Ultimate where it felt like Hellsing's troops were all fodder besides Alucard, Seras, and Walter. It was a fun watch until the final villain, imo!

Thank you for such sweet encouragement! I do feel better about all of it 😁. Thank you so, so, SO much for these messages!!!!!

[kafka-ohdear]

MISC. TAG GAME!

thank you, @dontirrigateme @theflyingfin @executethyself35, @ronald-speirs and whoever tagged me in this game, it means a lot to me 🥹🫶💖

*

favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

- i'd say hanoi (not because of hoa lo prison trust me). half of the photos i have in my gallery is about hanoi. i just can't help but adore its beauty and culture 🥹

something you’re proud of yourself for?

- being alive lmao. other than that i think it might be the sChOLaRsHiP (i don't know what to call since it does get me a disconut for the tuition fees but not for studying abroad 💀) and prizes i've achieved. not really proud of them but at least i don't have to worry when my relatives ask about my education.

favorite books?

- i'm terrible at choosing so here are some of them: all quiet on the western front; carmen; thương nhớ mười hai; da vinci code; từ gác khuê văn đến quán trung tân; beyond band of brothers; munich: the edge of war and probably odyssey, but i haven't finish the book yet so we'll see.

have you read any of easy company’s books? if so, which ones were your favorite?

- i've read ambrose's and winters' book, but the misinformation was laying everywhere in the book, so i totally prefer winters' "beyond band of brothers" over ambrose'.

when did you join the hbo war fandom? what was the first show you watched?

- i think i first heard about band of brothers at 9, and started watching the show at 10. band of brothers is obviously the first show i watched, and from this show i discovwred about the pacific and generation kill.

something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?

- skinny sisk. if a bit more serious then it's probably this whole fandom (ily all so much 🥹🫶💖).

favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

- i can't decide on my favorite actor/actress so far, but i'm mostly interested in anthony boyle's role as harry crosby in masters of the air now, so i'll go with that.

do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

- SHITPOSTS 😭😭

favorite hbo war character and your favorite moment with them?

- obviously it's skinny sisk and i love every scene he is in 😋 lmao i remember there was a time when i got shipped with a boy in my class and my non-hbo war fan bestfriend literally yelled i got a boyfriend and he's skinny sisk 😭😭😭

random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

- i can play the piano, not too much tho 💀

favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

- my favorite one so far was "are you from the 1940s or what?". said by my friend to me one random day.

if you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?

- i'm too ashamed to publish my works anywhere but yes, if you don't mind reading cringy ass fanfics.

any nicknames you like?

- duck, because my viet name rhymes with it and my classmates & online friends call me duck more frequent than my real name so yeah.

list some people you love to see around on tumblr!

- literally every mutuals i have and people i follow, especially @mylastresortiswriting @lamialamia @murphyism @fkmylif3 @blvestxr @onehelluvamarine and @executethyself35.

what would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

- die, most certainly. maybe i can make myself some tea before doing so.

favourite movie?

- war requiem by derek jarman. i love every movies he has ever made.

do you like horror movies?

- probably yeah. depends on whose movie is that.

tags: anyone who would like to participate!

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

miscellaneous tag game

@xxluckystrike tagged me in one of the questions in this because Blu is LOVELY so now I'm doing it

favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

Iceland! Rome is definitely a close second, but Iceland is just such an unreal place, it almost feels like being on a different planet. Everything there is sooo beautiful, I honestly never wanted to leave, and as a huge Game of Thrones fan getting so see some of the filming locations irl was huge too!

something you’re proud of yourself for?

I've always been pretty socially anxious, so I'm really proud of myself for the friends I've made in this fandom - I was definitely a lot more shy when I first made this blog, so getting to know people has been great! I think getting into my dream uni has been my biggest achievement overall, and it's been worth all the hard work

favorite books?

Anyone who's been following me for a while knows I can go ON about books, so for the sake of brevity here's a short list of my highest-rated books: - Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom, Leigh Bardugo - The Secret History, Donna Tartt - The Poppy War, R. F. Kuang - My Best Friend's Exorcism, Grady Hendrix - Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn

something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?

One of my best friends lives in an old farmhouse and has a huge field that we all love to have massive bonfires and camp in during the summer, I think those nights are some of my favourite memories, it always makes me smile to think about

favorite thing about your culture?

I really love how much of a mish-mash of culture, tradition and language we have in England. As a big history nerd, I love tracing the origins of things we think of as quintessentially 'British' and being able to see where these things have actually originated from. England's multiculturalism is something I think is incredibly central to this country, and one of the only things I can genuinely say I'm proud of these days

when did you join the hbo war fandom? what was the first show you watched?

I started posting about HBO war on here in May 2021! My first show was Band of Brothers, but I remember starting the Pacific like the day after I finished BoB, so I was pretty all-in straight away

have you read any of easy company’s books? if so, which ones were your favorite?

I haven't, but I definitely want to! I've almost bought Ambrose's book sooo many times but somehow never gotten around to it. My mum's a big HBO war fan too, and it was her that got me into the shows - she preferred the Pacific to BoB, so she had Leckie and Sledge's books, but I haven't gotten around to reading them either

favorite hbo war character and your favorite moment with them?

Ron Speirs you will always be my best friend. I think my favourite moment with him is honestly the bit where he walks in on Janovec having sex and doesn't give a single FUCK because he's just trying to steal as much shit as possible. It's such an insignificant moment but it makes me laugh sooo much every time.

do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

Yes! HBO War, SAS: Rogue Heroes and the A Song of Ice and Fire universe are the only fandoms I've made content for - I'm a fic writer in all three!

favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

I worship at the altar of Florence Pugh she is my Jesus and my Princess Diana (definitely not making it weird don't worry). I think my favourite movie of hers is Little Women, mostly because I am so chronically Amy March coded

favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

"Thank you for the emotional abuse and the cheeseburgers" - Grover Underwood, Percy Jackson and The Olympians 1x05 (he has such a way with words xx)

random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

I tear up every time I think about the end of Paddington 2. It's fucking legit

if you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader?

I thrive off of the immediate dopamine release I get after posting chapters the minute I finish them. I live life on the edge and I have no regrets

three things that make you smile?

Shane Madej, stupid camp sci-fi from the 1960s, manipulating people into watching The Terror

any nicknames you like?

I have never been given a nickname sooo idk really

list some people you love to see around on tumblr!

@xxluckystrike @dcyllom @basilone @mercurygray @footprintsinthesxnd @trenchenjoyer @mads-weasley - you guys are all so great, I'm so happy to be in this fandom with you!! <3

what would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

off myself like. immediately. sorry but I've watched all 11 seasons of the walking dead and I'm not doing that shit

favourite movie?

Muppets Christmas Carol you are my number one bestie of all time, in the words of Mr Darcy, i ardently admire and love you

do you like horror movies?

yesssss I'm such a horror girlie I love it. The Conjuring movies are my go-to classic 'haunted house' horror movies but I'm particularly partial to a good bit of folk horror (Midsommar and The VVitch my beloveds)

Everyone mentioned above please consider yourselves tagged and feel free to do this!! If I didn't tag you, do it anyway if you want!! it's fun xx

[booksandwords]

100 Tales from Australia’s Most Haunted Places by Ben Pobjie

Read time: 4 Days Rating: 5/5 Stars

The quote: For as long as human beings have been dying, they have been turning into ghosts. Or maybe they haven't. That's the great thing about ghosts: nobody knows if they're real, so they are endlessly entertaining, like Bigfoot or Elon Musk. — Introduction

Warnings: We are talking ghosts here and it often takes bad stuff to create a ghost. So some warnings: death, murder, suicide, torture, racism, classism and ableism. Among possibly other things.

Okay, I should probably start with where I stand on ghosts real or not. My stance on ghosts basically comes down to a quote from a book "I'm not sure whether I believe in ghosts, but two centuries worth of suffering has to leave a mark." (Billy, The Little Wartime Library). In Australia's case, it's not two centuries our Anglo-Saxon history doesn't go back that far but the point stands. Essentially I'm not above believing in ghosts because of human suffering.

I'm very glad I read this. Ben Pobjie has a fantastic sense of humour (he is a comedian, so massive shock that), and that sense of humour lands in all the right places to keep the mood where it should be. Some of these tales are truly dark, the humour is necessary to lighten to mood. Though I did find myself wondering what was with the (joking) hate on Tassie, and to a lesser degree South Australia. Don't get me wrong I laughed but I found myself curious. I found this to be quite informative in its own way. I have an interest in anthropology and this scratches that itch. It tells stories of everyday people and even ghosts are a part of that field. Some warnings for content death and murder are possibly to be expected in a book about ghosts, it takes death to create a ghost and suicide and torture are others that may be unsurprising. Other warnings that might be less obvious include racism (because you know Australia), classism (because British Empire) and ableism (because 19th century everything). Ben Pobjie is not an author I'd read before, though I do want to read more.

I appreciate the introduction it sets the tone and engages the reader. Pobjie gives his potential reasons for the belief in ghosts. They're pretty on point. The first entry is important, it is the one that grabs the reader and sets the tone. Nurse Kerry, about Aradale Lunatic Asylum, is the right choice. She is perfectly distressing. Not that her patients are sunshine and rainbows. The Bushranger Hotel feels like an odd choice to end on. But it does reference something Australia is known for, Bushrangers (in specific Ben Hall and Jack Dunn) and leaves the reader with a friendly and helpful ghost in the Quirks. The two of them are the right kind of entries to bookend the book. They balance well asylums and pubs are both common in the book, even more so when you look at them as a place of incarceration vs a place of rest and relaxation. I did find it to be quite well organised. The places that had multiple entries were spread out, the types of ghosts are varied and not repetitive in their order. Each chapter is two or three pages long with a relevant title, either the ghosts name, the location or a joke, under that is the geographic location by town and state. If the location isn't in the title it is usually in one of the first two paragraphs. It all just works so well.

Some quotes and comments. It's not for all of them but there are quite a few.

• Frederick Carr was hanged in 1929 at Adelaide Gaol. He's an oddly jovial ghost despite the injustices against him. He was hanged for the murder of his wife Maud. He's presentation has changed over time. Going from faceless to having a face and no one knows why. I just like that he's not angry.

• There is an intriguing dichotomy to the young ladies of Young & Jackson's the nameless ghost and Chloé. One is highly celebrated and prized while the other is nameless, lost and alone.

• The former denizens of the old convict settlement close in around you, insistent and suffocating, as soon as you arrive. If you can't hear them, you can feel them: the souls of thousands of the tortured, the abused and the murdered. The very air is weighted and perfumed with the pain and anger and sadness of a place built specifically to inflict those things. — I love this quote okay it's just so visceral. I like the way Port Arthur is managed. There are only a couple of brief examples. It feels like a yeah of course there are bloody ghosts here. It was a place of death and misery. (p.11, Ghosts of Port Arthur). Much the same thing is done with The North Head Quarantine Station, though there the story of the Gravedigger's cottage.

• There is something highly amusing about Pobjie not rant exactly but a paragraph that could have gone there about darkrooms being extremely spooky. I had never thought of it.

• Late one night, early in his residence, Bishop Trower awoke to find his bedroom awash with an unearthly light. The illumination emanated from a man who had, rather impolitely, entered his bedchamber without so much as a by-your-leave. — In the same chapter but a different point. There is something highly amusing about a pearl, The Rosinate Pearl, having vaguely homicidal tendencies. That (perhaps fictional) pearl has quite a high body count. (p.17, The Pearl Buyer of Broome)

• The Liftman is written in an interesting way. It's the only one written from a dual perspective and I like it.

• Under the laws of the time, suicide, or felo-de-se ('felon of himself' in Latin) was a crime equivalent to murder, — I knew this law existed but I never knew the Latin for it. What I found more interesting was that being found guilty of felo-de-se allowed the state to seize your assets. Francis Grote also has a pretty good ghost. (p.26, The Huntsman of Rostrevor)

• Catherine Spense broke my heart but she is exactly the kind of woman you aspire for your daughters to be.

• And to this day, every November, Campbelltown celebrates the Fisher's Ghost Festival, an event which brings together the whole town to celebrate community and ghosts. — This celebration is kinda weird to me, and I'm guessing a lot of others. Fisher has only had one appearance, unfinished business and all that. He's a bit different among this collection. (p.35, Fisher's Ghost)

• It could be that the sandhills themselves are simply replaying their own memory of the nightmare that descended upon them that chilly autumn night. — The feel of the unknown in the sandhills. It's different, and I like the imagery. (p.38, The Murdering Sandhills)

• I adore Albert Ogilvie so much as a ghost. He was a legend as a man too.

• Even in the olden days, when hanging people was more a fun family day out than a law-enforcement technique, slipping the noose around a female neck was something not done lightly. — This is about Martha Rendell and my response was essentially Jesus Christ you what? (p.43, The Stepmother from Hell)

• Marybank's protective ghosts are great. Allowing themselves to be heard but not seen by the occupants of the house, the descendants of the first family, the Fox's. But more than willing to reveal themselves to guests. It's a bit of a quirk among the entries.

• the Miracle House of Guildford in Western Sydney is fascinating. If you believe the story (and this one I am sceptical of) Mike Tannerous fulfilled his life goal to help people. I had to laugh when I read this entry though. Just days ago my mother and I were talking about canonisation in the Catholic church.

• The fact that Old Tailem Town was constructed Frankenstein-style, from historic buildings from elsewhere, means that it occupies a unique place among ghostly locations. Rather than being haunted by those who died on the spot, spirits have been trucked in from myriad other spots to rub shoulders on the pioneer village. — They are some pretty unique ghosts though. I do like the idea of a Frankenstein-style construction of a town. (p.75-6, Terror of Tailem Town)

• I am absolutely unsurprised that the Old Melbourne Goal is in here. The ghost of choice is Cell 17, a notorious and extremely physical ghost. I do quite appreciate Ned Kelly's silence on spectral matters.

• Quinn's Light is fascinating. But questions... I have questions.

• Indeed, as there are plenty of other spirits haunting the North Kapunda Hotel — hence its 'most haunted' appellation — the Man in Black likes to keep busy menacing them as well. It's a rare and particularly obnoxious ghost who devotes his time to spooking other spooks, but that's the Man in Black all over: a total jerk. — The North Kapunda Hotel is the place with the most entries. Dr Blood (no seriously his real name), The Man in Black, Sarah and Emily and her sister. They are all different and I like that are all here. The Man in Black is a total jerk and I kinda like it. (p.102, The Man in Black)

• But seriously: if you want to know how terrifying an old maternity hospital can be, just think about babies. Lots of babies. Crying. Screaming, sobbing, wailing. In the night. — Nope, nope, nope. How about nope. (p.104, The Evil Matron)

• I'd heard of George Grover, convict and all-round toss pot. But I didn't know he went ghost.

• Adelaide Arcade has more than a few ghosts, but us was the family case that got me.

• I'm honestly not surprised Mad Dan Morgan has a ghost and a nasty one at that. And that is two headless horsemen in Australia. What does surprise me is the lack of bushrangers with ghosts in general. It kinda gives a beaten by the better men or death wish to their life choices/ actions.

• George Ferguson Bowen had a well travelled and illustrious career. That his ghost settled in Brisbane makes me wonder... why?

• I appreciate the inclusion of the modern ghosts in The Road to Capalaba. I wish we knew their story. But in a way not having it is even better. Because they could be everyone.

• There are three chapters on The spooks of Monte Christo, with Monte Christo being a Homestead in Junee, New South Wales. They are all very different ghosts. The maid that found herself in a delicate condition was completely unsurprising fukn men in power. But it is Harold, Harold that broke me. Instead, going by the most cutting-edge medical and psychological advice available at the time, they decided to help Harold to live a rich and fulfilling life by chaining him to a wall. (p.140, ) Hahaha... NO. He was chained to a wall for 40 years. 🤬 No wonder he became a ghost. It was horrifying. The only shock is that he's a friendly ghost. As in he just was to make friends 😢.

• Melbourne's Princess Theatre opened in December 1886 and has been haunted since March 1888. That's impressive. I didn't know about the vacant seat tradition. Though it is hardly the only theatre with that kind of tradition.

• How have I never heard Elizabeth Scott's story before now (Poor Elizabeth Scott)? Hanged at the Old Melbourne Goal in 1863 for conspiring to kill her husband. She was married off to her husband at 13 (a little young even for the time) and of course, he was an abusive pos. The shotgun blast to his head fixed that malady (good). And because I can't resist.

• But there's something sweet and hopeful about the sight of Blanche and Dave wandering St Mark's together, because that's exactly what they are: together. Being a ghost seems like a lonely lifestyle, and all the moreso for a child. If these two youngsters, talked by tragedy and separated by six decades, have in afterlife found each other, their friendship might b cause for uplift in that grim and sombre place. —(p.178, The Cemetery Children)

• Sometimes the presentation of the ghost feels like true indication of the rest of their story. Like the milliner mourning her own death in the fashions of the day and in the art (trade if you must) that was her life.

• All countries have ghost stories, but only one turned a ghost story into its most popular patriotic song. Of course, 'Waltzing Matilda' isn't just a ghost story: it's also a cheerful tale of suicide and depending on your point of view an account of either justice or injustice done. —I really like all the falsehoods in the song but that original story should not be forgotten. (p188, And His Ghost My Be Heard...)

• I'm pleased there are ghost animals in here. Animals may be more disconcerting than humans.

• The hangings at the Old Windmill (Brisbane) in July 1841 were horrifying. If you want to hang someone hang them, not whatever that was.

• The current proprietors of the Albany Convict Gaol have, in the interests of giving their customers value for money in the frights department, adorned the rooms of the old building with a variety of dummies of frankly nightmarish aspect. They set them in chairs to stare at you so that when you turn to go into a room, you jump out of your skin and let out an embarrassingly high-pitched nose because there's some kind of deformed evil gypsy watching you with one bulging eye. —The book actually contains an image of one of the mannequins and they scare me more than any ghost in that place could I think. (p.242, The Black Hole) There are baby cries... baby cries in a convict gaol? I think not thank you. It's just so very wrong. The title The Black Hole is a sensory deprivation cell. Again no thank you. And I'm pretty sure they are still used.

• Oh man, the ghosts in Steiglitz outnumber the people... by quite a way.

• I did not know that Australia even had a monastic town, let alone that it had its own guardian ghost. New Norcia in W.A. was settled by Spanish Benedictine Monks in 1847. The ghost, known as The Blue Nun, is that of Sister Maria Harispe.

• The best known and most seen of Gaiety's cast of spirits is Ava, the theatre's proud addition to the pantheon of little-girl ghosts. — Honestly Ava sounds kinda adorable. She just kinda ignores people and goes about her business. (p.261, Ghosts of the Gaiety) There really in a pantheon little-girl ghosts. I'm just going to put a couple of them here. The little girl at Larundel Asylum is so heartbreaking, her music box would be disturbing though. The young girls at Spook Cemetery are horrifying. As much as more of these places would be great to visit not his one. You need nice hands. The last little-girl ghost we meet is at the Coach & Horses, she just wants friends, appearing mostly to children.

• Determinig whether the Royal Derwent Hospital, popularly known as Willow Court is haunted is a relatively simple process. Just ask the question, 'Is Willow Court Australia's oldest mental health facility?' If the answer is 'yes,' then OF COURSE, IT'S HAUNTED, YOU IDIOT. I mean, surely we know by know: if it's old and it once housed the mentally ill, there will be ghosts fizzing about inside it. — There is so much going on at this place nearly all of it bad. 'Asylum's abortion chair' is just three words that do not belong together here, unsurprisingly that chair has its own ghost. (p.263, Winston of Ward 5)

• It's interesting The Poinciana Woman echoes a few female folk tales globally. A huge injustice was committed against her I'm glad that the tale exists. Like so many of her sister tales she has become both a caregiver and an angel of vengeance.

• And they stare at you with their lifeless eyes, as if you say, 'As soon as you turn your back is turned, we are going to jump you and sink our mannequin fangs into your tender flesh like those statues from Doctor Who.' — I really did not expect a Faraway Tree. Yeah, they are pretty damn odd. Oh and we get this Doctor Who reference in the same entry as a treat. What other Doctor Who monster are we going to reference other than Weeping Angels. (p. 93, The Grouch Major)

[vinca-majors]

Hi and Happy October! I remember you made a comment a while ago about not writing fic for few months. No pressure but I would hope to see you posting again soon! Best wishes and Happy Halloween!

hi there! happy october to you and everyone reading this 🎃 there are a few different layers to this answer:

i haven't done any intentional writing in the last few months. that includes both fic and the novel i hoped to write this year.

i needed a break from setting more expectations for myself and having to live up to them, which i do to myself even when i'm writing fic

not to mention having plenty of pressure coming at me from other areas of my life! much of which is also self-inflicted!

this is starting to sound dramatic and tragic, so to be clear, i am perfectly happy atm and am actually being very good at self care!

ao3 and i have been on a break for a while now and i currently feel no compulsion to return

that does not mean i never will

it also doesn't mean i will

ao3 has played a huge role in my development as a writer. school assignments aside, i had never finished a story before the first one i posted on ao3. it was, and is, a no-pressure playroom that gave me the space i needed to move from a mimic into my own writing voice. i discovered a lot about the sort of writer i am and what i'm capable of. i met a bunch of wonderful people whose encouragement gave me confidence, many of whom have tracked me to tumblr. i love that! it feels like a quirky little cyber-neighborhood.

unfortunately there are plenty of non-wonderful people who consume fic like locusts. to me, they feel like a cavity - no matter how healthy the rest of my teeth are, they're the ones that make me miserable and angry. these locust readers are not the reason i decided to take a break, but they are regular reminder of how toxic ao3 can be to my mental health and how little i need that in my life

and now, with time and distance, i keep thinking of the sayers/lord peter quote - that maybe ao3, kind of like a once-beloved book, is like a lobster shell, a place where i was able to develop then grow out of and leave behind. it's not a perfect analogy - i don't think you grow out of writing fic the way you grow out of reading level 1 'i can read' books - but i do think it might be time for me to move into the next thing. for as long as i can remember i've wanted to write a book. i do best when i only focus on one story at a time, and i want to use that focus wisely. it's easy for me to get sidetracked writing low-stakes fic and avoid the labor of creating a novel. nine years ago i discovered i could finish a 2k word story, now i want to see if i can write a book.

i love contradicting myself, so i will also tell you that i've expressed hopes to a few people that i'll finish one or two of my unfinished fics soon ("soon" is of course a moving target, as anyone who has been here a minute knows). this is something i do intend to do, so it could very well happen that now that i've waxed poetic about writing a novel, you'll see ao3 notifications at some point in december. or sooner! or not at all! i haven't been intentionally writing but of course i have been WRITING. it doesn't just turn OFF. but to actually finish anything will require intent, and to repeat myself just one more time: i am requiring nothing of myself with regard to writing at present.

tldr: what will happen is literally anyone's guess.

but it means a lot that you care. ♡

thank you for your patience, for being aware that life sometimes just… goes a certain way, and for your well wishes!!

[lizabethstucker]

Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin

A Song of Ice & Fire 1

4 out of 5.

All the Houses of the Seven Kingdoms are plotting as the winds of change and chaos being to sweep the Realm. Winter is coming, but as enemies gather ever closer to war, will they recognize the threat gathering north of the Wall in time?

It's taken me a long time to consider diving into this mammoth book and series. While I haven't seen the filmed series, I have seen enough clips on YouTube to be curious. Starting with a sample from Amazon and approving of the reasonable price, I finally gave in. Frankly I wasn't expecting much. I burned out on chunky fantasy novels back in the 1990s and haven't regained much interest in them since.

The introduction of characters and the world itself in digestible chapters, slowly building the story without overwhelming the reader was a welcomed and delightful discovery. I'm so tired of data dumps, particularly in fantasy. To my surprise, I was enjoying myself. I did began to falter a bit about 80% into the book, but persevered.

I will state, however, that this book is a CONTENT WARNING nightmare. Whatever type of violence you can imagine will be found within these pages, incest, rape, child abuse, animal abuse, domestic abuse, ableism, bigotry, corruption, misogyny, and so much more. I did recognize that, as a story set in an alternative Middle Ages, it was period accurate.

Now the big questions.

Would I recommend this book to others? Yes, with some caveats as mentioned above. And not to people looking for elves and noble quests and the like. If it wasn't for the more magical aspects, this book could've easily been categorized as Historical Fiction. In fact, I think Middle Age history buffs will recognize some of Martin's inspirations while reading.

Will I continue reading the series? Um, at this time, no. As much as I enjoyed the majority of this book and recognize the loose threads throughout that remain to be snipped off, I'm strangely satisfied with what I've read.

And, finally, does this make me want to watch the series? Honestly, no. I've always preferred the book over the film in 99% of cases.

Favorite quotes:

"If they want to give you a name take it, make it your own. Then they can't hurt you with it anymore." ~ Tyrion Lannister

"When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground." ~ Cersei Lannister

[cascadia-stack-blog]

Meanwhile, in Portland Oregon, it was like 101 degrees or something chaotic like that.

I went to Powell's to pick up my copy of this book. I had ordered it a few months ago and this week, it was finally released. It is written by a brilliant but very personable LaUra Schmidt. LaUra is one half of the duo called the Good Grief Network and the 10 steps of climate resilience-wait wait, don't quote me, I haven't started reading the book yet but I wanted to take a moment to actually let this moment sink in for myself.

How disgusting that it was 101 degrees today, in PORTLAND for fuck's sake.

so anyway, here I am, an adult of a "mature" stature in life doing dishes. Thinking, I have earned some respect with peers in the field of emergency preparedness and social & climate advocacy plus resilience. But I am so angry about climate change. And now I am on Tumblr tonight saying'for fuck's sake'. Yes, this is me.

My name is Drew and I am furious that this is the fate of our planet and yet the power and money hungry extreme capitalists continue to drill for oil and frack for gas. It is literally killing humanity. And then, still doing dishes, cussing under my breath, I just go into a full-on ugly cry. I am so sad that this is happening.

You see, it's not just the planet, the animals, but my adult kids. And now I have this grandkid. He is the most adorable and curious little boy, he just turned 2. My crying makes me turn off the water and just sit in front of the sink. What is his life going to be like when he is graduating high school, just 16 years from now?

Anyway.... I will end this here.

I am still reading Braiding Sweetgrass by the way... The one by Robin Wall-Kimerer and it is beautiful and I have been taking my time and writing my thoughts and notes in the margin. I am a terribly slow reader, ugh. Hopefully I can start my Climate Chaos book next weekend. Because. Well, apparently, I have some grief.

[canyouimagine-spn-blog]

FBI Fun

Pairing(s): Dean X Female!reader X Sam (no wincest)

Warnings: threesome, smut, polyamory, 18+

Author's note: I've been away for a while but I've decided to come back, so give me a while to get back into the groove of things. Anyway, I wrote this a few years ago and I'm pretty proud of it. Hope you like it. I do accept requests, so feel free to drop a dime.

I was sat on the edge of the motel bed that I've been sharing with the Winchester Brothers for the past few days on this hunt. Sam, Dean and I have been in a polyamorous relationship for coming on a year now; meaning I've been in a relationship, also having sex, with both brothers, but not at the same time. Only separate occasions. We haven't engaged as a threesome, I've thought about it, but never plucked up the courage to discuss it with the brothers, yet. Our dynamic works out well, we all respect each others boundaries. It's great, amazing actually. I get the best of both worlds; soft and gentle from Dean (I know it surprises me too) and rough and hard from Sam. But sometimes depending on their mood or how the day went, it can switch up. And its never without mine or thier consent. 

The bottom of my black pencil skirt rollled up my thigh as I slippped my knife into my stocking. I hummed along to the radio Babe, I'm gonna Leave You by Led Zeppelin played. I could sense the brothers gaze on me as they adjusted their ties in the mirror. I smiled to myself as I fixed my skirt in place, standing up tp slip on my stilettos, then I walked over to the brothers, standing in between them, to put on my lipstick. From the corner of my eye, I could see DEan struggling with his tie. "Need some help there, G-man?" I asked "no..." he answered stubbornly, "come here," I said and turned to face him, he faced me and I buttoned up the top button of his shirt, fixing his tie and pulling it up to fit snugly againt the neckline. "I'll be in the car" Sam said, kissing my cheek "Okay" I replied. I smoothed down this collar with my hand, then slid them dow nthe lapels of his jacket.  "There, all done Handsome" "Thank you" "You're welcome" he kissed my lips tenderly, pulling away slowly beofre we left and I followed hin out to his car. 

______________________________

After we played FED, we decided to go back to the motel room for some much needed shut eye. "So its definetly a werewolf" Sam stated the obvious as we walked through the door of the motel room, taking off his tie, "yup, but now we just gotta firgure out who it is" I replied, kicking off my shoes next to the bed. I slumped down onto the bed, picking up my book from the bedside cabinet, looking up for a moment to see Dean walking through the door, messily stuffing his face with a cheeseburger. "you're such a pig" I said in disgust. "I love it when you talk dirty" he spoke with his mouth full of chewed up meat and bread and cheese... and extra oninons. Great. "Did you just quote Grease to me?" I laughed "shut up"

A while later, Dean joined me on the bed after Sam entered the bathroom to shower, locking the door behind him. He placed his hand on my exposed knee and pressing soft kisses to my neck. "Dean, please, I'm trying to read" I sighed with my full attention on the pages. "Your book can wait, I, on the other hand, cannot" Dean replied, breaking away for a second before returning his lips to my freshly tanned skin, sliding his hands higher up my thigh. My breath came out shaky as I tried to resist him, but failed misrably as my desire for my lover took over. I threw my book to the ground and turned to him, engulfing his large form in my arms before kissing him passionatly, each of us caressing the other. We made out for a few minutes, he pulled me closer to him as I sunk into the mattress. "Dean wait what about Sam?" I asked pulling away from the kiss "Shit, I almost forgot about him," he replied beofre shouting to his brother, "Hey, Sammy!"  "Yeah" Sam questioned as he appeared from the bathroom wearing nothing but some jeans, hair damp from the shower. "We're gonna have sex, so..."  "Do you want me to leave?"  "No, I was thinking more like.... joining us?"  "You're joking right?" I asked, looking at the older Winchester "No, I'm being deadly serious" "It'll be fun, but you don't have to if you don't want to" Sam stated "Wait, have you two discussed this?" I quizzed, they just nodded "well, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it" "Really?" They said in unison "well, whatta ya say, sweetheart? Taking both of us at the same time?" Dean asked. "Fuck yeah. Come here Sam" 

Sam quickly made his way over to the bed, taking my mouth with his. Dean sat up, making quick work with removing my skirt while Sam unbuttoned my blouse as we kissed. He trailed down my neck to my chest as Dean removed my now soaked panties, his mouth intantly attatched to my clit, "oh fuck, Dean" I moaned, reaching down to tug on his hair, incouraging him. I quickly removed my blouse, allowing Sam to the unclasp and discared my bar, kissing and licking my hardneing nipples. I felt Dean shifting to undress, still continuing his assalt on my heat. I pushed them both gently away to move positions, Sam lay down on the mattress as I kneeled in front of him in between his long legs, Dean now off the bed, leaned over the edge, stroking my pussy.

I looked up at Sam as I unzipped his jeans, pulling them down slightly before he reomved them the rest of the way. I teased him over his boxers, his growing erection visible through the fabric. I gasped as I felt Dean slip two fingers inside me, streatching out my walls, pumping them, making a come-hither motion against my g-spot, making me quiver. Finally, I freed Sam from his confinment, taking his large shaft in my hand, the pre-cum dripped down from the head, and I used it as lube to help me pump him slowly. Dean removed his fingers from me, then began teasing my entrance with the tip of his cock, making me moan as I continued stroking his brothers cock. I slipped Sam's long shaft inside my mouth as Dean sunk into me, all three of us moaning out. Dean began fucking into me in a fast, hard pace, making me yell out around his brothers cock as he hit against my g-spot, every now and then hittong against my cervix. Sam growled, gripping my hair in a ponytail so he could watch as his cock disapeared into my mouth. I swallowed around his swollen cock head as he hit the back of my throat. I used on hand to hold up my weight and the other to rub at my clit. 

With how loud all three of us were moaning, I'm pretty sure the other guests at the motel probably though someone was watching porn, because it sure as hell sounded like one. I reached up and cupped Sam's balls, fondling with them and I could feel them tighten in my palm. "Oh, fuck I'm gonna cum" he panted "yeah that's it Sam, cum in her mouth" Dean commanded. The grip Sam had on my hair tightened as I took him further in my mouth, and he cried out as he finally hit his release, cum sliding down my throat. I drank down everything the hunter gave me, then slipped him out my mouth. Dean pulled me up by my arms, towering over his brother as he pounded into me harder, rubbing my clit. "Fuck, yes. Dean, I'm gonna cum" "That's it, cum for me, Y/N, cum on my dick" I couldn't hold it any longer and the tight knot in my stomach finally snapped, my walls tightened and squeezed his cock and we fucked me through my orgasm, I cried out in aboslute pleasure. My whole body felt as if it was on fire. My vision blurred and my head spun as I came hard. Dean then suddenly pulled out his cock, using my lips as stimulation before he moaned out, "ahhh, Y/N" as he shot out his load, it landed on his brothers stomach, much to his disgust. 

"Dude, what the fuck!?" Sam yelled, "oops, sorry Sam" Dean apologised,  "Don't worry baby, I'll clean it up for you" I said and bend down, licking over his abs, gathering the hot salty fluid onto my tongue and swollowed it down. "I'm gonna go shower" Dean spoke through heavy breaths before kissing my lips and entering the bathroom. I collapsed next to Sam and he pulled me into his side. "How was that, Sam?" I asked sleepily "Good. Really good. We should do it again some time" "oh definitely" I mumbled "if its cool with you two, its cool with me" 

FIN. 

[vikki-tikki-tavii]

hiii hi hi I was wondering if you could right some headcanons for viktor with an autistic reader? I haven't really seen that explored yet in the fandom and I'd be curious to see people's take on it since I myself am autistic :] (also hope you're having a good day I really love your work!!)

Aw this is really interesting and kinda sweet I’m flattered you came to me with such a personal request ( and tyms for your compliments!!🥹) Now disclaimer: i really don’t know all that much about autism, ik it effects people in different ways depending how far they are in the spectrum and all that. I tried to do a little research on autism so I can get an idea about how it could effect the reader, but I’m sorry if the examples in this drabble are inaccurate or if I’m at all insensitive. okie now let’s see how this goes :3 💙

Viktor x autistic!reader headcanons

Edit: reader has a broad Autism Spectrum Disorder

Viktor noticed how quiet you were today.

You didn’t want to talk to him. You didn’t want to help him out like you usually do. But he understood why and let you be.

Viktor understands. He always does.

Jayce had stopped by earlier to work a little before attending to his counselor duties. He greeted you with his usually smile and wave, like he normally does.

But you didn’t respond like you normally do.

He asked if you were feeling ok. You mumbled a halfhearted assurance that you were fine. You were “just tired” but you knew that wasn’t the truth and so did he.

“Jayce can I see you for a moment.” Viktor’s voice asks from across the room.

Jayce casts you a concerned look before heading over. The two talk for a moment before. They’re voices are hushed but you know what they’re talking about, but you don’t feel like worrying about it.

After a couple of minutes, Jayce heads out but not before sending an understanding smile your way.

You were grateful. You’re also glad Viktor is there.

Viktor understands. He always does.

Viktor makes his way over and asks if it’s ok for him to sit near you. You tense slightly, but take a deep breath to steady yourself. You allow him, but asks that he not sit too close.

He’ll gently smile at you and pull up a stool.

He suggests that you go home for the day. You don’t have to force yourself to be around him. But - for some reason - whenever you felt like this, having him around made you feel better.

He offers his hand. You refuse it. But it’s ok.

Viktor understands. He always does.

Instead, he offers to read you’re favorite story to you. One you have already read over and over a countless amount of times. One you could quote word for word. One that would always make you think of happier times.

You agree to the idea. You grab the small book out of your bag and hand it to him.

Soon, his soft, accented voice floats throughout your shared, quiet corner of the lab.

You feel yourself relax and let a small genuine smile overtake your previous downcast expression.

You were grateful to have Viktor in your life.

Because you know Viktor understands, and you know he always will 💙

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E6; Chapter Six, E Pluribus Unum - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Fem!Reader Series

𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘦𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘴. 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺/𝘯 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴. 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘹 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘰, 𝘮𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺/𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭'𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴.

⚠️: angst?? unrealistic bird behavior & likely inaccurate descriptions (bird enthusiasts & experts, please don't come for me, it's a metaphor. Same with all the baseball stuff :p), horrible cringy attempt at me writing comedy, and a long but necessary authors note

📝: nothing is explicitly confirmed so that anyone may interpret this however they want—gender & sexuality is different for everyone. R is not ending up with anyone but Will since you as a reader chose this book, but that doesn't mean I haven't gone out of my way to create instances that invoke possibility/interpretation. Like, if you think Y/n and Max or El or whatever have some flirtationship going on, they do! If you think they are strictly friends, correct! It's up to you and despite my previous a.ns, in the end, it's really up to you. This is meant to be an extension of you—a character you play in the show that I hope you feel you can fit into and relate to as much as possible. Everything here is for your enjoyment. All I ask, is you respect others' interpretations. Thank you for reading, I know I have long a.n's. I hope you enjoy it! (EDIT: Sorry, I genuinely meant this when I wrote it and then I realized, "hey actually things can be wholesome and gay in a harmless little fic without people bursting into flames" also I've been writing in will's sexuality anyway and we never see comphet represented in fics and I know that if I had exposure to such questions to ask myself at that age, it would have been extremely beneficial for me and I wouldn't have dealt with so much internalized homophobia probably (hence the once deeply closeted lesbian subconsciously picking the gay character for the LI) so let's put this fem!reader copy to good use, shall we?!)(and no, the he/him and they/them copies will be sticking to Will byers LI. Fem reader will be moving away 🎉🥳)

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

- 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟏𝐒𝐓, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟏 -

"You're such a jerk, Mike!"

"Yeah, well, at least I'm not a cheater!"

"--Guys!"

"Screw you! If anyone's cheating, it's you! You keep changing the rules anytime it's convenient for you,"

"--Guys, please!"

"Do not!"

"--Just stop!"

"Do too!"

The Henderson residence had played host to many of the Party's adventures in its day, but none in recent had been quite so tense as this summer evening. The sun was setting behind the tallest wall of timber and a curtain of clouds that set the shockingly secluded property aglow in a soft but vibrant lilac. The air was still very much hot though perhaps that felt the case to the young Y/n Henderson, all but absent of smoke blowing from her ears as she charged after her friend in a rage, baseball mitt chucked to the ground and forgotten.

Behind her on the sidelines, her brother, and two best friends desperately trying to put out the stoking fire between her and a young Mike Wheeler. The Wheeler boy in question stopped his angry pacing just steps from the extended porch to whirl on his feet, completely red in the face.

He threw his arms out in anger. "Guess what, Y/n?! Pointing out you can't play favorites as pitcher and actually have to pitch well to everyone isn't cheating or," he angrily got in her fuming face as he threw up air quotes. "'bending the rules'. It's enforcing them,"

"--Mike, lay off," Lucas eased. But Like Y/n, Mike wasn't listening. Both children were blinded by their anger.

Y/n let out a very loud, very obvious fake laugh. She was bitter and angry and at this point, didn't care. Mirroring Mike's exact actions from before she threw her arms out at her side before her hands landed on her hips. "Yeah?! I'm playing favorites? That's what you think, that I'm intentionally setting you up for failure-? 'Kay, and have you ever considered that—I don't know, maybe, I might still be learning how to pitch, jackass?! Our mom just got us this equipment cause she could spare to afford it with the extra hours she's been working—we've never had an opportunity to practice before,"

Off to the side, Dustin went quiet. His eyes curiously watched Mike as he dropped his angry stance a little in realization. The air had changed. The golden and lilac skies deepened and the hot summer air lingered, but a small breeze had settled in; sneaking in through the trees in this sudden silence.

It was often easy for Mike to forget the life his parents gave him differed in many ways from some if not all of his friends. He could feel the heat in his cheeks burning brighter as the anger fizzled into embarrassment.

"That's what I thought," Y/n glowered, turning away in a huff to retrieve the long-forgotten roll-away ball that lay nestled against the forest floor. "Go home, Mike. I don't need this,"

"Y/n," Mike sighed. He sounded more tired than sorry, still whirling in the aftermath of his dwindling anger. Off to the side, Will, Lucas, and Dustin shared anxious looks. "Come on, I didn't think about it like that--"

"--I said go home! I don't want you here!"

Mike stiffened, his chest thundering with a storm of conflicting emotions that were threatening to get the best of him. He could feel his fists tightening at his sides and the urge to apologize drowning in his urge to deflect his embarrassment was winning.

"Yeah?!" He practically stutters, completely pink in the face and his hands balled up at his sides. "Well, maybe I don't wanna be here! Like you're gonna hear me out anyway-!"

Y/n scoffed, crossing her arms. "Like you're capable of real apologies!"

"--You guys, please," Came Will's small and pleading voice. The young boy felt a sympathetic hand fall on his left shoulder, stopping him from going any further and getting caught in the crosshairs. He looked over his shoulder to see an equally worried Lucas. The two shared silent words before watching what the three worried would be the end of their Party.

"You know what?! Fine!" Mike hollers. "As always, it's what Y/n wants!" He stops only to look around at the others, his voice lowering in volume before he says what he is certain is his final goodbye to Y/n. "I'm leaving."

The small audience watched as Mike yanked his backpack off the back patio and stormed off around the side of the house. Y/n, despite the searing anger practically pulsing off of her skin in waves, was almost shocked to see he called her bluff. Mike, though she hadn't been part of the group long, had quickly become one of her best friends. And though they had a special knack for getting under one another's skin, they always had each other's back when it really mattered.

Was she really about to let that go? Was Mike?

Dustin, Lucas, and Will seemed to be wondering the same question based on their reaction; one by one their tiny slack-jawed faces trailed from the side of the house where Mike had disappeared over to where she stood. Still cross-armed and fuming, but relinquishing muscle by muscle as reality settled in.

Her brother and friends were the first on Mike's heels, snapping themselves from their stupor and calling after their friend. If they could just convince him to stay long enough for both of them to cool down and work something out. They feared just what might happen if he left now; that what was broken just might stay broken.

Y/n didn't quite understand what she wanted to do or say—or even if she had any intention of doing or saying anything at all—when she found herself reluctantly following after Dustin, Lucas, and Will. Maybe she was just curious to see if Mike truly had the guts to leave. Maybe some part of her was scared to know the answer, no matter how furious she still was with him.

When she finally rounded the corner, she had little time to wonder why her friends had snapped into action and joined Mike on the empty driveway in worried tones.

She had caught him just as he was pushing himself off his hands and knees and onto his backside, grinding his teeth in pain from where he now sat on the dirtied-up driveway. Blood was already seeping through the abrasions on his right knee, a mixture of pebbles and dirt wedged into his bloodied skin around the wound could be seen even in the dying evening light. The lip of the concrete driveway peeking out of the dirt just a foot behind him suggested he hadn't had such luck in the darkness.

Sensing the extra pair of eyes on him, Mike looked up with a small huff only to meet eyes with the very friend he was trying to escape. Both were far too stubborn to relinquish an apology, and Mike's sudden vulnerable state only made his humiliation double down. He thought for sure he'd seen the last of Y/n, or at the very least, she'd laugh and say something about him deserving it. But instead, she turned tail and stomped inside the house without another word.

Nobody said anything at first. And Mike made quick but clumsy work of dabbing at the blood with his hands as carefully as possible. The sooner he got up the sooner he was out of here.

"You okay--?"

Will barely had time to finish the words before the slam of the front door returned and Y/n's frighteningly stern voice rung out (unintentionally and unknowingly) cutting off Will.

"Don't be an idiot, Mike. Your hands are filthy," everyone turned to see Y/n marching down the brick steps, her trusty Crystal-and-Lockjaw-lunchbox-turned-first-aid-kit in hand. "Let me see,"

"I'm fine," he snaps, growing self-conscious and throwing himself on his feet. He fails to hide a wince at the sudden bend of his knee and Y/n pins him under a tired glare. "I said I'm leaving, so I'm leaving."

"Stop being a baby and just sit down, Wheeler," Y/n pressed, her voice climbing again as she subconsciously began backing him up and around to the front steps of their front door.

"No, alright?!" He tried again, looking over her shoulder like he was getting ready to sprint. "I'm fine! I'm fine!"

"Just shut up and let me help you!" She bellowed, jabbing a finger behind him on the front steps.

His eyes blew open wide in fear as he collapses on the front steps and did his best to ignore the slight sizzle in the air that carried along with the breeze. Thankfully he knew better than to say anything, and judging by the looks on their faces from where they stood behind her so did the trio of boys who had watched the scene unfold with slight shock. Y/n heaved a tired (almost regretful?) sigh as she rubbed at her temples. All before kneeling at Mike's feet and unlocking the tin lunchbox and sorting through to find the correct supplies.

"I thought you wanted me to leave?" Mike finally asked after a minute or two. The rest of the Party, having realized they had intruded enough, was promptly led inside by Dustin to grab their coats and things and call it a night. They were currently inside, getting ready to leave. Perhaps this is why Mike had the sudden courage to mumble out the first words he had spoken to Y/n in minutes. "Thought you hated me,"

She rolled her eyes in great annoyance as she discarded the last of the cleaning supplies off to the side where she would eventually dispose of them properly. As she fished for a big enough band-aid, she didn't bother looking up at her friend to grumble her answer.

"I don't hate you, Mike," she admits much to his surprise. "I'm not happy with you, and I don't exactly want you here right now, either."

There was a small pause as she plucked a square strip from the tin, her attention focused on peeling back the paper to get to the bandage.

"But I don't hate you."

Mike would be lying, even to himself, if he said he wasn't relieved to hear that.

"You're lucky I even bothered to waste my supplies on you--" she nods to her lunchbox, her first and favorite first aid kit from a lunchbox she loved so much she was too afraid to take to school at the risk of ruin. "Just because you fell doesn't mean I don't think you deserve it,"

He frowned at that. But any instinct to bite back died out when he remembered the guilt he felt minutes ago for his thoughtless remark on her pitching. And as he sat here now, watching as the seething glare she had him trapped in all evening had effortlessly turned to a laser-focused gaze, making sure she applied his bandage just right, he couldn't help but feel a change. The remorse he felt from earlier was growing heavier and heavier, bringing his shoulders down in a slump and turning his frown genuine.

He tried thinking back earlier on in the day, asking himself why they had even started fighting in the first place. But he didn't have one right answer. Not one that justified losing a best friend over. It was all silly, selfish, and ridiculous. He had been all those things.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," Mike admitted, his heart pounding a little in his chest. She looked up from her lunchbox, where she had been tucking any loose items away, and paused as she searched his eyes in return. "I shouldn't have said those things."

That pounding in his chest was turning into hard and thunderous booms. Mike wanted to ignore it but it was the only distraction he had as Y/n studied him for any sign of false meaning. She found none.

The question of whether or not Mike had lost one of his best friends—a question he had been dreading to ask—was finally answered when Y/n's lips slowly stretched into a thin smile of relief.

||𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

- 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘 -

"...you're jealous of me?"

Okay. Yeah, it was definitely time to leave the country. Leaving the country is a good plan. A great plan.

I don't know how long it actually takes me to answer. I just sorta... stand there. Trying to will my heart to start pumping again—it actually feels like all the blood has stopped pumping and my entire body is turning cold. Shit!

My eyes dart back over my shoulder through the screen door, but nobody—not even Will—seems to have noticed. I don't bother asking this time before I manage to bring myself to sit across from her on the steps without my knees buckling. My palms are clammy, my throat is dry and I can't even bring myself to meet her eye line.

This is totally ridiculous! I have to think about what I told Will that day—what she did for us. I know who she is. I have to remind myself who I'm talking to... But this is also the person I've screwed over for the past year and a half.

"Are you mad?"

Out of everything I could have said, I ask that?

Y/n scoffs, and my heart skips a few beats in fear. From the corner of my eye, I can see she's looking down at her lap and picking at the plastic seams of the comms as she thinks. She looks tired. Emotionally.

"I'm not mad, Mike," she admits. There's a small, sad smile fighting to stay on her face. It reminded me of that week we were looking for Will. "At least-- well, not about that, anyway,"

She chuckles a little, but I can tell even through her joking tone there's some layer of truth. Y/n sighs again, setting the comm on the steps at her feet, and glazing over the breeze in the trees before catching my eye for the first time.

"To be honest, I-- I'm not exactly surprised. Either."

The urge to get angry again creeps up but thankfully I'm just enough in my right mind to recognize I'm getting defensive. I'm embarrassed. 'How long have you known?' I'm not even sure the words left my mouth but she still answers me anyway.

"I've known you since the fourth grade, Mike," Y/n says. "Don't forget I spent a year on the sidelines. I saw how you two were—how you can be—around each other. Stuff other people might have missed... and I heard what you told him that night in the shed, about how you guys met."

My head is pulled over my shoulder without thought. Immediately, I catch sight of Will through one of the cabin's windows. He's standing in the kitchen, finishing off his stupid bowl of Lucky Charms by shoveling the last spoonfuls into his mouth like he always does. A few pieces fall from his spoon and his head falls with it, watching it slip away regretfully. He doesn't think anyone's watching him-- he's just Will, being himself.

The sight brings a similar, sad smile to my face when I recall the things I said to him that night. The moment Y/n is talking about.

'It was the best thing I've ever done,'

I'm broken from the memory when Y/n continues. Her tone suggests she knows what I'm thinking.

"What's between you and Will is something... I don't know," Y/n admits after a moment, shrugging and dropping her hands on her knees, unable to find the proper word. "But it's not nothing."

Y/n can tell I haven't said anything in a while. And she's smart enough to guess I'm not jumping to reply. I feel her gaze on me when my eyes fall to my shoes. I'm not sure whether to be relieved, embarrassed, horrified, or what... But despite what she's saying, I notice there's something still bothering her: I know this because her hands haven't stopped fidgeting, and they only got worse when she weakly—but playfully—nudged my knee with hers.

"Look, I-- " maybe I'm looking for things, but I swear she's trying to spit the words out. I swear the look she throws over our shoulders at the window and into the living room where Max, stood with Lucas and the others—not far outside El's door—lingered just a little longer than normal. But maybe I'm looking for things. "I get it. Believe me..." something somebody says inside has the pair laughing, and Y/n bows her head into her hands, rubbing exasperatedly at her temples. But maybe I'm not. "I get it."

The fidgeting got worse as she laid her eyes back on the forest. Two birds were meeting on a branch, cautious of one another, but neither of them willing to budge. I felt yet another small, playful nudge on my leg, and I nearly laughed upon recognizing her go-to weak attempt at lightening the mood.

It took me a moment to process her words, and when I finally registered I'm meeting her eyes I can tell she was waiting for a reaction of some sort. But really, there's nothing I can say that does justice to how I feel. But one look and I know—every suspicion I've ever had is gone. Y/n feels it too.

"But you know," she shakes her head thoughtfully, going back to those birds on the branch. They're scoping each other out. I'm surprised they haven't started fighting—gotten territorial or anything. It's almost like they're getting used to each other again. "I really don't think there's anything wrong with that. I mean, the connections we make with people, whatever they look like, are up to us. It's scary but it's true. But the feelings—not so much. Feelings just happen, and they can happen with anyone, and when they do they just... take hold of you."

The darker bird snapped its beak at the red one when it got too close. It cocked its head but didn't budge, only snapping back at it before hopping closer on the branch. In a lightning-fast motion, it plucked a twig from the feathers on its back, not without lecturing the black one for yelling at it as it did so. The red bird promptly hopped back several spaces, and the black bird quieted in guilt.

"I think you just gotta be brave enough to stick it out if you're willing," she shakes her head at the ground. "I don't think that makes anyone bad. And I don't know about you, but I'm pretty happy with how things turned out." I found myself chuckling noiselessly as I nod along. The road here was definitely long and winding and far beyond complicated. But there were some things I just wouldn't change.

As they always were, the army of trees was a tempting sight to turn back to in such a heavy realization, but I was too preoccupied with the flustered haze Y/n was beginning to fall into. It was curious to see.

"I'm..." a genuine smile I hadn't seen on anyone in days flashed over her face as she looked wistfully over her shoulder. "so happy with Will." She admitted. But that smile eventually fell a little. "And I know how happy you are with El—I have a pretty good idea of what she means to you."

We both hear chirping in the branches, and we pull our sights back on the birds. The black-feathered bird—who had flown off before—had returned. He seemed almost shy. But he had food. And he was offering some of it to the other. She didn't look like she believed him at first, but she must have been hungry. Or needed a friend. Cause she cautiously hopped closer and took some of the food with a thankful chirp.

Y/n turns back to me, reluctant to take her eyes off the sight. "But that doesn't mean you haven't hurt people,"

I'm pretty sure the look on my face said it all.

"I never meant it, you know. That stuff I said. At the mall. You know, about you being locked away."

Her head sunk a little lower and I swore I could feel the air grow hotter around me. Almost as much as it did when she cornered me in the storage room.

"I was just... I was just--"

"Jealous?"

"Yeah," I laugh bitterly along with her. It's the first time either one of us has successfully been alone in a long time, I realize. "Yeah, I was. I was also scared. But mostly, Y/n, I was really mad. I don't know what for exactly, but I was panicking, and jealous and of course I don't want you locked up-- and I should never have said that. Maybe I said it cause I wanted to make you mad. Like I was mad... But I shouldn't have."

I'm too embarrassed to fully realize the heat in the air cooling. All I know is I feel a bit more relaxed. But maybe that's cause she's finally meeting my eye again.

"So, Y/n, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. For everything."

Maybe it's because all of this feels familiar.

"No, alright?! I'm fine! Just leave me alone!"

Something in the way Y/n's looking at me tells me she's thinking the same thing.

"Just shut up and let me help you!"

Something like we've been down this road before. But that oddly puts me at ease...

Y/n's lips slowly stretched into a thin but familiar smile.

"I miss being your friend, Mike,"

Something about those words felt just as familiar: everything about this moment, including the birds, but I couldn't quite call it deja vu.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I shouldn't have said those things."

I don't think I've ever been so relieved to see someone laugh at me. It was just a small chuckle, I'm pretty sure out of relief. But a laugh. "Thank you," Y/n says. She winced as she stood first, then offered me a hand to my feet. "And me too. And I'm sorry I said, you know, that you were a jerk and, all that stuff about you being stupid. I was just angry, but that wasn't cool,"

"What?"

The look on her face didn't change, but she took a moment to gulp. "...did I not say that stuff out loud?"

I felt my eyes narrow at her. "You said I was a jerk, but you didn't call me stupid,"

"..."

"..."

"--truce?"

"--truce?"

We both laughed a little, and I knew I wasn't the only one feeling the last of the tension disappearing. Together, the two of us walked to the pile of bikes at the edge of the empty garage. I could barely make out the sound of Dustin hushing Lucas and Will from inside and I rolled my eyes at the thought of them all listening. I wouldn't put it past them. Knowing those three, if we both turned around to look we'd probably find them with their noses glued to the window.

"Hey, Mike?" Y/n asked, pulling my bike off the wall and offering it to me. I think she could tell despite our resolution, I was eager to make it home.

"Yeah?"

It had been a long day. A long week or so really. We hadn't been getting along since she's been spending more time with Will. The two of them had been running late working on building and leveling up her character, Y/C/N. And honestly, it's been hard without either of them.

Y/n opened and closed her mouth, suddenly embarrassed. She shakes her head finally. "...I don't know, I guess I just--"

I take the handle of my bike and she released her grip, looking over at me and offering a crooked smile in the process.

"I've missed being your friend,"

-𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞-

Something lifts in my chest and off my heart and lungs—something that's been weighing heavily for years. I actually feel myself smiling a little, and inhaling what feels like the first fresh breath of air I've had in a long time.

"I miss being your friend, too,"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Asian American's Advancing Justice:

"Fighting for civil rights and empowering Asian Americans to create a more just America for all."

AAPI Equity Alliance:

"AAPI Equity Alliance (formerly, A3PCON) is a coalition of community-based organizations that advocates for the rights and needs of the Asian American and Pacific Islander community in Los Angeles County and beyond."

Asian American Advocacy Fund:

"The Asian American Advocacy Fund's mission is to advocate for the civil and human rights of Asian Americans, Pacific Islanders, and Native Hawaiians in Georgia. Through a combination of policy advocacy at local, state, and federal levels, and by supporting candidates that believe in our values, we fight to create a better Georgia for us all."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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[studyinglogic]

What piece of art (book, music, movie, etc.) most influenced the person you are today?

I. A long prologue on the preconditions of an answer

Thanks for the great question: it's also a hard question to answer! (I've answered a similar question here, but this answer is quite different.) Already at the start, I have to avoid three traps in answering.

The first is including works I've been puzzled and fascinated by, but do not fully understand and so have not been sufficiently influential in the way I'm thinking of. (Examples: Jung and koans. I can talk about them with some plausibility, but do I really understand them? Being honest with myself, I don't.)

The second is including works which easily come to mind because I've enjoyed them, but which haven't been sufficiently influential either. (Lots of science fiction I've read fall under this category.) The third is making a list solely of classics, since I run the risk of making an uninformative list of what everyone already knows---or even worse, having classics simply because they are high-prestige. (Examples: the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Three Kingdoms.) Having said that, many classics have been genuinely influential in my life, and I'll mention some of them later. But I want to make sure that I include more than just classics.

Even while avoiding these traps, I find some difficulties in answering for two more reasons. First, because I haven't been influenced by any single piece of art in particular so much as I've been influenced by artistic works in general.

Second, because even more influential has been my general attitude towards art and culture (to go up a level) rather than any works of art in themselves.

To name some of these attitudes:

I think that the best way to experience artistic works is in their context, by seeing what they're reacting to and against; I think it's useful to see artistic works as part of a coherent tradition for that reason (and this is also why theory is useful).

I don't think you can get a pure experience of artworks, but that they're always shaped by (often invisible) interpretive lenses; I think the best art is transformative (a very Xunzian view); I think there are no compulsory works of art because of this. What transforms each person is different, just because each person is different.

One of my favourite quotes here is from Borges (quoted in the epilogue to Professor Borges; the original citation is to the 1979 interview Borges para millones):

I believe that the phrase “obligatory reading” is a contradiction in terms; reading should not be obligatory. Should we ever speak of “obligatory pleasure”? What for? Pleasure is not obligatory, pleasure is something we seek. Obligatory happiness! We seek happiness as well.

For twenty years, I have been a professor of English Literature in the School of Philosophy and Letters at the University of Buenos Aires, and I have always advised my students: If a book bores you, leave it; don’t read it because it is famous, don’t read it because it is modern, don’t read a book because it is old. If a book is tedious to you, leave it, even if that book is Paradise Lost—which is not tedious to me—or Don Quixote—which also is not tedious to me. But if a book is tedious to you, don’t read it; that book was not written for you.

Reading should be a form of happiness, so I would advise all possible readers of my last will and testament—which I do not plan to write—I would advise them to read a lot, and not to get intimidated by writers’ reputations, to continue to look for personal happiness, personal enjoyment. It is the only way to read.

II. Donald Richie's Japanese Portraits

Having given that very long disclaimer, if I had to select just one work which has been most influential to me and which isn't a well-known classic, it would be Donald Richie's Japanese Portraits. (If you'd like to read even more on this, @transientpetersen has reviewed it here and I've added some comments on its impact on me here.)

Richie's Japanese Portraits combines so much of what I like and has influenced my style (to the extent to which I have one) and taste: short vignettes with psychological insight, fragmentary pieces which add up to a greater whole even if there's never a unitary picture being painted. It led me to other similar authors (like Italo Calvino, Lydia Davis, Kurt Vonnegut, Sei Shōnagon and Yoshida Kenkō and the zuihitsu/xiaopin genre. . .)

And---most importantly---reading the book was one of the events in my life that taught me how to notice people, how to love them. (I can vividly remember a time when I was very bad at both, and it was only with great effort from those around me that I managed to learn to love. And, of course, the influence of the book pales in comparison to the influence of the people who loved me, loving people, lovely people. Love is both attention and action, and I'm still learning.)

Richie has a gift for encapsulating the universal in the particular. Reading the book made me a better person, and that's the highest compliment I can give any piece of art.

III. Other works

Having tried to pick a most influential work, I would be remiss not to mention the many others that have influenced me, often to the same extent. I'll name just a few which immediately come to mind rather than give a full list. Much like William H. Gass's list, I'd probably come up with a different list on a different day.

There isn't any visual art or music on the list---not because of their lack of worth (Philip Glass, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Nils Frahm, Ólafur Arnalds, Oasis, Mahler, and Shostakovich are all personally enjoyable and were influential at particular points!), but simply because I find it easier to cite, explain, and engage with texts, and so texts have been most influential for me. If you're interested, here's a bit on my musical tastes. Now, back to the list:

The Epic of Gilgamesh: Gilgamesh's faults are entirely human; it's a consoling book.

Sima Qian's Records of the Historian (read in the Yang and Yang translation): Ostensibly a book of history, but there's an entire ethos there of understanding the moments of rise and descent, of leaving when things are at their peak, of understanding the moment and waiting. I read it as a child and it was extremely influential in affecting how I behave up to now.

The Three Kingdoms (which I write about sometimes): I read this at around the same time as Sima Qian; the figure of Zhuge Liang exemplifies the tensions inherent when you try to combine the ethos of the Records with the actual prevailing situations.

Elizabeth Bishop's "One Art": There are so many times when I've reminded myself, "The art of losing isn't hard to master. . ."

Simon Leys's essay "The Chinese Attitude Towards the Past": It introduced an entirely new way of thinking about preserving history and memory to me.

Sociological theory, especially Weber, Durkheim, Goffman, and Foucault: They've all shaped my understanding of society and normality. I'm extremely sympathetic to the symbolic interactionists. Weber taught me to appreciate bureaucracy a little more, which has made me more patient while waiting on the telephone: now that's influential!

Key figures and texts within the various philosophical traditions: within the Chinese tradition, Xunzi and Dai Zhen; within the Indian tradition, the Dīgha Nikāya and Vasubandhu; within the Anglo-European tradition, Spinoza and Wittgenstein.

Gadamer's Truth and Method: I still don't fully understand it, but I was extremely influenced by his idea of the fusion of horizons. Some parts of it are pure poetry. When I read the passage where he says that nothing returns, I had a shiver down my spine.

Shen Fu's Six Records of a Floating Life: a depiction of love in a time very different from now, and all the more interesting and touching for that. My favourite passage is the part where Shen Fu and his wife Yün acknowledge the social pressures facing them, and talk about how they hope they can change positions in the next life to understand each other and to overcome these pressures:

Once I said to her, ‘It’s a pity that you are a woman and have to remain hidden away at home. If only you could become a man we could visit famous mountains and search out magnificent ruins. We could travel the whole world together. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?’ ‘What is so difficult about that?’ Yün replied. ‘After my hair begins to turn white, although we could not go so far as to visit the Five Sacred Mountains, we could still visit places nearer by. We could probably go together to Hufu and Lingyen, and south to the West Lake and north to Ping Mountain.’ ‘By the your hair begins to turn white, I’m afraid you will find it hard to walk,’ I told her. ‘Then if we can’t do it in this life, I hope we will do it in the next.’ ‘In our next life I hope you will be born a man,’ I said. ‘I will be a woman, and we can be together again.’ ‘That would be lovely,’ said Yün, ‘especially if we could still remember this life.’

There's so much encapsulated in this short passage: Shen Fu and Yün accept society's limitations while trying to transcend them within a framework they're familiar with, all while dwelling in the care and love and friendship between them. When I read this passage for the first time, I had to stop reading; I had started crying.

IV. On dealing with complexity

Most of the works which come to mind immediately are works of philosophy, theory, or nonfiction. This is no accident.

Life is complex, and there are at least two ways of dealing with the complexity of life. Philosophy tends to make it more explicit (although there are exceptions like Wittgenstein, where the very form of the Philosophical Investigations forces you to think in a particular way) and art tends to make it more implicit (although there are exceptions like programmatic music). In an interview, the philosopher David B. Wong recalls:

I remember taking a number of literature and mathematics courses, besides philosophy. Maybe philosophy combined the appeal of the other two fields for me—the clarity and systematic nature of mathematics and the focus on the human condition in literature.

I have a preference for the explicit, and so I prefer philosophy---but others with a different frame of mind may, for entirely valid reasons, prefer art.

For me, the one great advantage art has over philosophy is its greater pull on the emotions. Art helps build solidarity in a way philosophy doesn't (as Rorty points out). Philosophy does pull on the emotions: I've been happy or had shivers when reading philosophy, and sometimes I've been so excited that I had to get up and walk around before reading further. But I've never cried while reading philosophy, while I have cried before when reading literature.

Thanks for your question again!

[sadlysoulx]

Haikyuu boys going to IKEA with you

Bokuto, Kuroo, Kenma, Atsumu and Tsukishima

I know, I know the idea is so random but my head is full of ideas so please do enjoy😩💓 Go Stan the double post 😏😏😏 i need to post a lot bcoz I need to make over those 2 weeks when I haven't post

📜REQUESTS' ALWAYS OPEN📜

⚠️ Warning⚠️: not proofread

Bokuto

This guy has a weird case of touching anything and everything when the two of you pass by the shelves.💀💀💀

He always picks up those Ikea stuff- toys and bring them around while holding onto you.😩💖

But then he drops them sometimes because he's complaining about how they smelled like drools💀💀💀

Please he joins the other kids play in that one playground when you stopped by to eat😭😭😭

You have to feed him.

when stops playing, he comes over to you to open his mouth wide, letting you feed him and then return to play with the other kids.

He likes those kiddie meals where nuggets and french fries where placed in a colored plate.

Bo complained that he wants his plate yellow but instead he got purple😬😬😬

You returned back to stroll in Ikea, checking out the furnitures.

He likes that area in Ikea where there is full of lamps and light bulbs.

Bokuto keeps playing with the switches, continuously trying them and turning them on and off and on and off and on and off until he breaks one😃

He nervously walks up to you and said and I quote "Baby, let's go I need to go to the toilet,"

You suspiciously nodded and made him go to the toilet.

Once he got out, he said that he's tired and wants to go home.

He doesn't want to return to IKEA for a whole month, thinking he will get arrested if someone recognized him as the guy who broke the bulbs.🙂

Kuroo

I swear Bokuto and Kuroo share the same brain😭😭😭

Kuroo also touches everything he sees and picks it up and puts it in the cart😩

BASICALLY BUYING THE WHOLE STORE

He is the type to borrow a pillow in Ikea, hop in the cart and sit in there while you struggle to push the cart because of his hefty weight.

he collects Ikea pencils and paper rulers😭😭😭

Like everytime he saw one of those pencil and ruler stalls he walks over and take a other batch of those.

Kuroo likes to play hide and seek in Ikea😬

Like really, you were getting worried where he went and then suddenly he pops out infront of you scaring you to death.

When he sees those books displayed in the house models, he tries to read them and complains why are they in a different language or why r they blank😭😭😭

He likes the area where there are full of chairs.

Kuroo keeps on sitting on them and then spinning and spinning around.

(I swear why is the fandom making him like a Playboy and badboy. . . He is the hugest dork❤️)

When it's lunch, he likes to get a lot of those butter in small platic containers, saying how much he liked them☹️💓

He also gets those jams and takes a lot because he said:

"it's free so why not take many?"

Btw,like Bokuto, he likes those kiddie meals, where you are given a colored plastic plate filled with nuggets and french fries.

He doesn't want to go home and it takes a full hour to make him convince to go in the car.

Kenma

He doesn't want to go out until you made him dress up and shove him into the car.

He was all grumpy grumpy

But then he actually had fun😃👍

Kenma likes to throw himself on the couches and beds until you have to drag him out of it.

Please he likes that area where there is full of kitchen tools✋😭

He would pick up a weird looking tool and try to figure out how to use it😖

Until he used it wrong and a screw hit his eye😭😭😭

Mood😃

Mood😃

Mood😃

When you were in the bedroom section, he likes those double decks displayed

He curses at the people who ever put up those plastic stuff on the ladder to keep people from trying to get to the top👁️👄👁️

You see those yellow banners hanging from the wall where the prices are labeled?? Yeah that

He likes to jump and hit those with the tip of his fingers

And when he successfully did, he looks at you with a smug face look on his face.

He likes to impress you so husshh🤭

When lunch rolls by, he likes holding the food cart for you, for some reason it excites him when he controls the food cart👍

He always asks you what you want and that not to worry, he'll pay for it.

Kenma also likes those free butter in little containers because they taste good👅

Anywayss he likes the soups served in Ikea 🥣 (I did too, they r just tasty)

In the end, he enjoyed the day in Ikea with you✌️

I mean duuuuh reader-senpai is just irresistible✨

Atsumu

He was actually the one who dragged you in Ikea

Please he would pick up weird things and try to figure what is it for but then ending up hurting himself😭😭😭

(I mean c'mon when I was in Ikea there r a lot of weird things, and when I tried them, I ended up hurting myself💀)

He likes those small wooden kitchen toys for kids placed in the house model

'Tsumu would play for a while with that kitchen by himself.

He would also talk to himself as he cook a plastic egg✨

You: 👁️👄👁️

Atsumu: ✌️😗🍳

Everyone: 😕

Hotel: Trivago

You had to drag him away from the kitchen toy stall.

Atsumu really really likes to collect Ikea magazines, even tho you have one at home, he would still insist on getting 2 or 3 more

One time, he picked up a plastic flower from outdoor/garden area, placed it between his teeth and playfully flirted with you.

He took it out and gave the flower to you🌻(it's those ridiculously huge ones)

But then he snatch it back and out it on the rightful place saying:

"oh you want it? Buy it yourself,"

You spanked him with the broom beside you.

When it's lunch, he is ✨fancy✨

So he takes mushrooms, mashed potatoes, meat with some sauce in it.

💅💅💅

It was night time when you both went home.

What do you expect?😕

Tsukishima

Ohmaigawshhh, I don't want to be biased here and have favorites but here we go🤩

He wants to stay in the parking lot and make you go alone💀💀💀

But then he insists to go when you said "Huh? Fine! But what if a man asks my number and still insists 'coz he doesn't see my boyfriend around?"

He is just like a lost baby but in a tall boy's body, you have it hold his hand and drag him around.💀💀💀

When you stopped by to check something, he doesn't know what to do and stands there clueless like🕴️🕴️🕴️

Tsukishima really throws a tantrum saying he's tired and want to rest.

But reader-senpai needs to shop💅

He actually shuts up when you gave him an Ikea dinosaur plushie, so he's hugging it with his one arm and the other holding onto you hand.

The boi is so bored so he randomly glares at teenagers passing by😾😾😾

When you were in the bedroom section, things went out of control 😔😔😔

He was getting lazy to walk around the rest of the Ikea passage way so he keeps on laying down the beds.

But when you finally got him up, he would lay down again on another bed💀💀💀

He finally decided to listen to you and walk again (thank God 😌)

Saltyshima was so desperate to escape, he went out the emergency door and pushed it open

But when he did, the alarms went off🚨💀 (inspired by Jungkook)

He got real scared and ran back to you, hugging the dino plushie.

You were laughing your head off😭😭😭

You decided to eat lunch and you know he is a 👑Royal👑 so eats fancy foods like Atsumu.

And yeah btw, you ended up buying the plushie for him because he won't stop getting salty about it.

But he shyly said thank you atleast¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oof that was really long to writeಠ_ಠ

But I had fun bcoz I can literally imagine them doing all of those stuff, let me know if you want to have part 2 c:

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That's my best friend^^

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