#I like to switch from fiction to non-fiction every other book

[randomnon911stuff]

9 books I want to read in 2025

tagged by @saintmoss, @zahlibeth

tagging: @bestbuddybobby, @boasamishipper, @jtownraindancer, @fear0phobia, @constance-dartagnan, @boopynash, @fandominstability, @lets-turn-silences-into-words, @toughpaperround

[kay9leo]

It's hard being the new kid...

Sort of "modern" HL AU

Meet Iñaki "MC" Martinez Cariaga! She's the new transfer student from the United States. She was late for the sorting ceremony so she's currently houseless right now, hence the gray tie. Unfortunately for MC, her ancient magic is a magnet for attracting trouble and getting her into situations she rather not be in, sort of like Percy Jackson.

Fun Facts:

Normally her eyes are brown, but ever since she ended up in the UK, if she's around the presence of high Ancient Magic activity, her own ancient magic activates, turning her eyes a magical blue. They also turn that color when she's using it. At the advice of Prof. Fig, she tries to keep a small flow of it running consciously if she's not at a nearby ancient magical source.

She's also big runes fan! Since her family comes from both Central and South America, she has a big love of studying Mayan glyphs and Incans quipus (they use that instead of runes to conducting their magic). She also knows some indigenous words in Kaqchikel and Quechua; some for fun and some for spell casting. Seeing Norse runes in person was the one thing she was definitely looking forward when going to Hogwarts.

While she doesn't originally goes by MC back in the States, it became her deferred nickname/shorten version of her double surname Martinez Cariaga to use at Hogwarts. She's gotten tired of both professors and peers taking too much time to say it or have them accidently butcher her surnames (or first name even). Her nickname of MC is used so often that it gets to the point that barely anyone remembers that her name is Iñaki 🤣

Ancient Magic & Hogwarts Castle

I headcanon that the Hogwarts Founders were ancient magic users who build Hogwarts and never told anyone about their abilities. Since the place is humming with Ancient Magic, MC's eyes are always a constant magical blue. It's when she leaves Hogwarts grounds that she has to focus on maintaining that magical flow.

The Big Move, Fourth Year & the Reserved New Girl

Unfortunately, Iñaki's dad lost his job during the first layoffs of the Great Recession in early 2008. Thankfully, he had a buddy who hooked him with a new temp job in London, causing the Martinez Cariaga family to move across the pond from New York to London during the end of summer. While she loved the idea of traveling and going to Europe (and maybe even learn more about the different ancient runes used there), she wasn't too pleased at the idea of moving abroad and leaving everything she knows and loves.

Instead of starting her freshman year with her close friend group at Excelsior (NYS magical school system, Ilvermorny is the New England private magical prep school - the most famous, oldest and only school most people know outside the US), Iñaki is starting 4th year at Hogwarts.

Note: The words between "< >" is spoken in Spanish. MC comes from a Spanish-speaking Latino household. If the words are not in between "< >" assume she's speaking English.

6: At the end of MC's first week:

MC:

<¡Hola Mami!>

< I'm fine. ¿And you? >

< Nothing interesting happened this week. >

< ¡NO! ¡It wasn't like I fought a dragon or a troll this week. >

< ¡Just because I faced the Jersey Devil in 6th grade or the Headless Horseman in 7th OR befriended Champ at Lake Champion in 8th doesn't mean weird things always happens to me! >

<¡I'm fine Mami! Nothing happened...>

<¡I had to Mami! ¡He told me he wanted to give me a "proper Hogwarts welcome" before we started! I told him "That's how we say 'Hello' in New York." Made it too easy for me by saying his spells out loud. The prof said I was a great example of how magical duels are different in the New World with our non-verbals...>

<He was cool with losing. ¡Sebastián even gave me a tour of the magical village nearby and introduced me to the "dueling club" the school has! >

< We dueled together…¡It was fun! I almost forgot how much I miss home… >

8:

MC:

< I still want to go home. >

< No Mami. I don't mean visiting you guys back in London. Home as in New York. >

< ¿Why should I make friends if we're only going to be here for a year?>

< ¿It's only a year...right? >

< ¿Right? >

< I gotta go...I promised my classmates I'll study with them for our exam next week. >

< I love you too. >

"Bye."

*Flips phone closed*

*Ends call*

......

MC's trying...but she is rather homesick.

She's now stuck in Hogwarts and isn't too keen on making friends since she has no clue whether she'll be there for a year or not - it all depends whether if they extend her father's work contract and she's isn't keen on making friends if she's only there for a few months in her mind. It gets to the point where Sebastian trying to friend her is like an unstoppable force meeting an unmovable object. (He ends up winning though when she accidently slips up and calls him her friend later on in the year).

For now though, MC is a very angsty teen right now and had her world flipped upside down.

At least she can take out her angst in dueling club 😅

I want to thank @myokk for listening to my ideas about my MC and to my sibling who needed to borrow my laptop for work (leading me to doodle and actually make a digital drawing on my tablet -that I use as a second monitor for work- since I couldn't edit some papers on those days). Without them this drawing wouldn't have happened.

I'm never doing this ever again because I a bit too perfectionist for art and I hated the number of layers I needed. It was supposed to just be a SIMPLE digital doodle!!!! Instead I made this 😭. Never again. I'm sticking to my pen doodles. I was bored out of my mind and I was either reading or doodling while my sis was testing out her new laptop and I was on stand by in case she needed me.

[kafkaesquedyke]

I’m a little confused by some posts I’ve seen about armand breaking down the door in the book, because they frame armand as either ‘lol he’s so random’ or ‘that proves he’s abusive too’ when everything that happened before explains armand’s actions

break down with tva book quotes under the cut TW: discussions of csa

the initial event that triggers everything is Marius sending Armand to a brothel to have sex with other boys (which was preceded by Marius sexually abusing Armand for a couple of years atp (all of the following takes place while Armand is 17), including already having sent armand to another brothel to have sex with women)

this basically differs from his previous sexual encounters in that he 1) has sex with other guys, 2) they’re most likely around his age, and 3) he enjoys it (I consider basically every sexual encounter Armand has in tva non-consensual but this, and the following encounters, are the closest to “potentially consensual” within a fictional narrative, that this book has to offer and the closest we get to Armand’s real sexual preferences)

following that Marius grows incredibly cold towards Armand, which he clocks as him being jealous (Armand knows Marius is a supernatural being and that he can read his thoughts) though Marius is also potentially stressed because of his duties towards Akasha and Enkil

So, Armand leaves and has sex with Lord Harlech, some noble man he just met (again, I don’t consider this consensual, but mostly because of the age gap)

(not included in the screenshots, but they switch and Armand tops and doms Harlech and deliberately makes a point about enjoying it, which contrasts his relationship with Marius where he is not allowed to reciprocate intimacy (mostly due to Marius’s vampire nature) also Harlech behaving like a lunatic after lol)

then he goes to Bianca (a close friend throughout the novel) and they have sex as well

she calls him out on his relationship with Marius, as well as that he was hiding from him

once Armand returns, drunk after stirring over Marius’ treatment of him in a tavern, Marius is madly painting with vamp speed disturbing the other boys

he’s also painting Armand, further implying that his rage is about Armand sleeping with others, again, something Marius ordered him to do!

Marius ends up flinging paint in his rage, after Armand enters (presumably reading his thoughts?) and orders everyone out of the room

Marius does not respond to Armand’s pleas to once again talk with him, so they can resolve the situation. Armand begs him to simply admit that he’s angry with him and Marius continues to ignore him and then flees

he locks himself in his bedroom (which Armand shared with him so far) then he tells Armand to go sleep with the other boys in a way that implies an end to their relationship. tbc, at this point armand ties all his self worth back to Marius and how much he is desired by him, specifically because Marius is the only person who ever “cherished” him

so Marius rejecting him like that signals to Armand that he is no longer special to him and has therefore lost his unique worth, which Armand has built his entire self worth on (by Marius’s design)

so Marius acting jealous over Armand having sex with others (partially under Marius’s orders), Armand questioning him, not getting a response, leaving to further explore his sexual options, which makes Marius even more jealous, while the entire time refusing to talk about it, despite Armand begging him to, and then rejecting Armand completely is what ultimately leads to Armand breaking the door down. Marius was a 100% more immature here than Armand despite being a thousand-year-old beefing with a teenager (who he’s abusing)

[saintmuses]

❝𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙝, 𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙧❞

Pairing:

Lenny Miller x Reader

Summary:

She never got to marry, or bear children, or have a house with a white picket fence. She never got to grow old either. Even in death, she would never be able to escape from the man who loved her a little too much.

Warning(s): Death. Implied murder. Angst. Implied toxic relationship. Age gap (10 years apart between Reader and Lenny). Major power imbalance. Dark!Lenny. Minors, dni! Note: I was trying to make this something that you would read from a non-fiction crime book which includes many characters from Anna so it does not feel personal. Reader is a Russian American in this one. Also the switch between ‘Leonard’ and ‘Lenny’ is intentional. The title is from Mirrorball because I thought it was fitting of how it refers to the end of something, therefore the end of one’s life as they know it.

Word Count: 3.3k

1995

"It was something I would do, but I would've never expected her to do it. She and I were very different in that sense." Anna Poliatova, her best friend from childhood days murmured softly, her accent curled around the letters as she sat down in a chair for the interview regarding the crime documentary. She had eyes that were colored like the sky, and platinum hair, straight as spineless grass in the plains.

"1990 was something for her," she then laughed. "She met someone I never even knew about, but I found out in her diary of an early 1990 entry of a man named Leonard Miller."

April 16, 1990

Dear Diary,

When you meet someone, how would you picture meeting someone? One day, they would be a stranger to you, but they could be everything but a stranger tomorrow.

I didn't expect to meet Leonard Miller yesterday, but everyone knew of him. 

I mean he is an agent handler for Central Intelligence Agency, his reputation precedes him everywhere he goes in that workplace. What attracted me to him right away was how he eluded power and raw presence. He commanded attention as soon as he walked into the room. I had to talk to him because of my job; I’ve been assigned as a secretary for the director of CIA.

The day before, you would be doing something so mundane, right up to the moment, and that was when everything changed. I haven't felt this way in a long time, like a schoolgirl's crush on a man who is very handsome, but very off-limits. There’s a workplace code set in place for something like this. My brain had to remind myself that we cannot be more than just co-workers, no fraternizing around, but my heart didn't care.

I was never supposed to be that person.

Never.

Y/N.V.

Y/N Vasilisa—Love to those close to her due to the meaning of her last name—was born in New York in 1966 to her parents Arseni Vasiliy and Janet O’Conner.

Aurora, New York was a town where families would bloom while the others faded.

Arseni Vasiliy was born in Moscow, USSR, and migrated to America when he was nineteen and met a girl from a town over, then fell in love with her. They were married in 1964, two years before Y/N was born. "She kept him on his toes, and they made the marriage work. They had good years," his friend recalled, a brief appearance. "Really good years."

Janet, her mother was very protective of Y/N, perhaps because she was the baby, the only child of the family. They were close, close as best friends could've been.

The Vasiliys were the poster child of what family should really look like. It was a small family, but it was home.

Y/N met Anna Poliatovia in English class when she was a teenager. She came to America as a foreign exchange student from Soviet Union program. They were the duo that every girl was jealous of, and every guy wished they would've gotten together with.

Y/N Vasilisa was an honor student, had perfect grades all four years of high school, and became a valedictorian for her class.

Everything had changed a month before her graduation in 1984. Her parents died in a tragic car accident. Their slow but terrible deaths were caused by fire when a drunken driver of semi-truck crashed into them.

She moved to New York City after she graduated from high school, wanting to get away from the town that used to be so kind to her.

In a utopia world, no one would die. In the real world, parents weren’t supposed to bury their children. In a twisted sense, they made the natural order of death happen. Y/N had to bury them at eighteen.

She went to a community college while working for a company as a secretary during the week, and she would complete double shifts as a waitress at a restaurant on the weekends to be able to afford an apartment she lived in.

As Y/N struggled to make the ends meet, Leonard Miller was on his way to becoming an operative for CIA.

Leonard’s father was born in Europe in 1928, but his family moved to America specifically Hawaii in 1935, although it was not a part of fifty stars for another few decades. When his father was twenty-one, he met his wife at a shore, and they were married before finding a job as a constructor while his wife was a housewife and a mother of four children.

Elizabeth was the first and only daughter that was welcomed to the world in 1951, John was born two years later, then it was Leonard and Maxwell after that.

The family experienced a devastating loss when the patriarch of the family died of a heart attack at the age of fifty-three in February 1981, leaving his wife, children, and grand-children behind.

While the women of the family were soft-spoken, soft hearted; the men were stolid, hardworking, and they set their minds to succeed in America.

All men but one worked for a construction company that their father built with his partner. The company became Miller and Co. when it thrived in Pearl City, and the boys except one joined.

The third child of the family did not want to work for the construction company, opting to make a path for himself.

Leonard -Lenny for short- was born in 1956, the third child, but second boy in the family. He had dark brown hair, icy blue eyes so piercing that someone would feel like he was looking into their soul. He did almost everything first, he was not only an honor student, but he was also undeniably his parents' favorite son out of four children. He was hardworking and disciplined like his father, quiet and conservative like his mother.

John and Maxwell, his brothers were the opposite of it. They were the life of the party, the charmers who could work a room full of strangers and leave with a bunch of friends.

They were very much loved by their parents despite the differences in all of them.

To them, Leonard was the good brother. The one who could give dependable advice. To school, he was quite unattainable. Polite, friendly, only mingling when he had to, but he knew how to have fun as well.

When he was eighteen, he graduated from high school in 1974, and enlisted in military. It was there he was recruited to become an CIA operative thus moving to Washington DC to be close to Langley.

Despite being the second oldest brother, he did take over the proceedings of the patriarch after his father's death, but he refused to do anything with the construction company. His other brothers were there to run the business while he and his sister were there for their mother.

Before his father's death, he accepted a promotion to become CIA Agent Handler.

And he was thirty-four years old when he met Y/N Vasilisa.

"She was filled with life," Lenny said softly, fingers tracing the surface of the table in front of him as he stared down at the patterns, remembering the night he met her. "She was something else," he swallowed thickly before turning his head away, not without a hint of regret in his icy depths.

Y/N met the director of CIA when she moved to Washington DC after college, who recruited her to be his secretary in late 1989 and having the career that aligned the path of the position as CIA Operative Handler, it was inevitable.

"I remembered being there when they first met," Maud Lebereva, her friend and co-worker recalled. She had buzz cut brown hair and wide doe eyes, she also migrated to the states from Russia when she was a teenager. "He came in to have a meeting with the director about an upcoming mission in then-USSR, he had his eyes on her way before she noticed him. It would've been sweet if it was something else, but I saw something I knew wasn’t sweet." She murmured, shaking her head.

No one knew anything about them. They had started meeting at lunchtime, getting to know each other, it was harmless. Anyone who walked down the streets in the DC area would see them sitting outside in cafes, laughter could be heard from them, and they looked like they were friends, best of friends even.

They were friends for a few months until early summer of 1990 when the director of CIA had a gathering where every person must attend the function.

He had to walk her to her home that night, and that was when the dynamic changed for them. A soft kiss on her cheek, a pair of lips pressed against her skin slowly before withdrawing, and she had blushed viciously.

After that night, they weren't just friends. They were on their way to becoming lovers.

No one knew about them. They talked through phone calls that would be on the side tables, they emailed each other, and they would do anything discreetly.

He was still unobtainable, and she was still feeling guilty. Although, he had said he loved her in the summer of August at the Bahamas when he took her out for a vacation under the disguise of attending a seminar. Somehow, in her mind his declaration of love made everything seem alright.

It wasn't until late November when everything started to unravel around her. She met a very sweet man Alex Tchenkov through a friend and knowing there couldn't be any more than just an affair between Lenny and her, she went for it.

That was when she realized she had the idea of love wrong. Love wasn't about swearing an oath not to be seen, keeping the lines blurry between what was right and wrong, and it wasn't supposed to feel poisonous. It felt deadly, like a bitter taste of acid whenever she looked back to the months of her affair with Lenny.

Her friend, Anna was in Langley for Christmas, and Y/N took her out to a bar in Washington DC. Afterwards they sat on the concrete edge of Tidal Basin for a long time until the sun began to set over the capital, talking. The blonde woman gave Y/N an early Christmas gift, and she started to cry. 

 "She cried for a really long time," Anna said thoughtfully, nibbling on the side of her bottom lip. "I didn't know she was trapped in a wrecking affair at that time, but she was crying because she said she didn't deserve Alex," she remembered idly. "I was confused, but at that moment I knew there were so many things about her, many secrets that she hadn't told him, and she was really scared she would lose him if she was honest with him."

Eventually one person found out in February, it was Maud who had introduced her to Alex. She had sworn to keep it as a secret, and there were times when they would all meet for lunch.

"Despite my ill-feelings towards Leonard, he was a good person to people around him that I knew of. Figuring him out, and not being able to put a finger on why he gives me a bad vibe, that is where I can't stand him." Maud murmured; her eyes flickered briefly to the window. "I do remember one time I sympathized with him when it came to Y/N, it was a dinner at a really expensive restaurant, and he offered to pay." She laughed slightly, although it sounded uneasy.

The whole dinner affair was tense, it was to say with the understatement of the century. Y/N barely gave Leonard any time of the day, only cordially polite even it would make the worst of the worst dictators silently kneel to the ground.

At some point during the evening, Y/N excused herself to the ladies' room. When she was gone, Lenny had turned to Maud and asked why Y/N hated him.

"I was surprised when he asked me that," she paused, thinking back to that night. "He sounded desperate and sad, and it was that moment I felt bad for him.".

Maud tried to give him an excuse not knowing how to placate his emotional being, and she knew the sad pitiful look on Leonard’s face was caused by Y/N’s attempts to leave so she could be completely in a relationship with Alex. She did wonder if Leonard had any feelings for Y/N after all. If he did, it would be too bad.

"I mean I knew Y/N was irrecoverably in love with Alex, and I just felt bad for Leonard because he didn't stand a chance." Maud sighed, chuckling. The sound was not without a small amount of pity. "I just never knew how bad of a person he was to her. It's always the guys that can fool you easily, but not girls. However, she did fool me a bit." A grimace adorned on her face as she thought about it.

In the leading months, she and Alex got involved exclusively with fear gripping in the back of her mind that Lenny could ruin it all. Leaving her life into ashes if he ever exposed their affair to Alex.

"It was the one thing in her life she was most ashamed of," the brunette murmured, "but it wasn't her fault. I just wished she would understand that. However, he was a powerful man in Washington DC. He could easily ruin her life if he wanted to, and he did."

It was after midnight on July 5th, 1991, but there was a soft orange glow behind the curtains framing windows in the apartment. Silhouettes could be seen moving as six people roamed around the place restless. The fear had gripped them all after false-hope rationalizations failed to erase the tension Y/N had left them with.

Her other best friend had noticed something was wrong when Y/N didn't show up for dinner along with Maud.

"She didn't call to tell us she was running late, or anything really." Anna stated, her blue eyes glistening as she sniffed slightly. "I tried calling her several times, but it went straight to the voicemail." Her eyes flickered to the window as her lips turned down slightly. "I waited because she always called me back no matter what."

While they had waited for her, for the police, for some word, anything; they forced themselves to believe that she was okay, she had to be, the other option was something they didn't want to think about. 

Ever.

"I remembered going through her room, finding her journal, and I thought as I stared at the slim book 'God help me that I will break her private cocoon she'd set up for her mind, but if it was to help us find her then so be it'." Anna murmured; her eyes closed briefly before opening. "I remembered there was some sort of a letter stuffed in the last page she'd written."

You asked me a long time ago after we met, 'what do you want?' in a teasing manner with a soft twinkle in your pretty eyes. What I want...is for you to be happy. I love you.

"It wasn't signed, but it didn't really have to be it was obvious, and that was when I knew Y/N had been harboring a secret for a long time." She shrugged before sighing, looking away. Her blonde hair swayed slightly. "She was definitely not perfect, but she was the best of us. Despite the flaws we harbored in ourselves, she saw the best in them, and I can see why she would look past his overbearing flaws in the beginning to see the best in him even when she shouldn't. I can't really fault her for that, she tried, and she did until it wasn't enough for her." She then hesitated, "and whatever she wrote in her last entry...I knew he’d read it because I know Y/N, she would've just thrown away the letter after reading it, not put it in her private cocoon where it would ruin her peace. The letter he put in was more of some correspondence to her journal right before everything..." she then paused; her bottom lip trembled as a gasp escaped from her mouth resonating in her lungs as a light sheen glazed over her eyes.

June 29th, 1991

Dear Diary,

There were times I questioned myself, in the beginning I could see why I wanted to be with Lenny despite all the wrong things that I have seen.

Now more than a year has passed, and I'm suffocating. The leash I didn't notice wrapped around my neck on the day we met had been becoming shorter and shorter, chipping away its inches as his control became iron-clad over time.

I had once asked him when I met him, he was the guy who had it all, and he did, but to assuage my curiosity, I had asked him "what do you want?"

And it was that particular conversation that changed everything for me.

We were doomed, entirely and truly.

I can't say it wasn't love at first, for me it was, but it wasn't for him. I had only noticed after I fell out of it was when I realized we were doomed. He was an agent with a dangerous future, and I was at a different place in life.

Being with Alex had made me see things differently, it made me realize that Lenny Miller is not the man I or everyone else thought he was. He is a narcissist, a liar who manipulated everything around him including me. He was like a rose, sweet at first until I touched the thorns and that was when he became cruel. I fell in love with the idea of him and accepted the false flaws until it got to the point where it all became too much for me to bear.

He knew I wanted the chains off my heart especially after meeting Alex. Especially when I want to be free, I need to be free, but he won't let me go. I know he will never let me go, and I'm afraid of whatever that means.

It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't love despite him saying it was.

I have to get away from him before the suffocation drives me to the grave.

Y/N.V.

"I did love her. I loved her more than anything in this world, even when she didn’t love me anymore, but I suppose no one would understand." Lenny had emphasized slightly, almost bitterly. His blue eyes were steely glinted when the light from the sun hit their depths, before the mask of indifference fell into place. "The last time I saw her was when she didn't want me to be in her life anymore." He had murmured before looking out to somewhere in the room. He had said when the sun began to set, everything fell apart around them, "and that was that." He then shrugged as if it explained it all.

THE NEW YORK TIMES

Tuesday, July 21, 1992

A MISSING AMERICAN WOMAN'S BODY FOUND IN LOIRE RIVER IN FRANCE

(Photo taken at the graduation in 1984)

The body of a 26-year-old woman Y/N Vasilisa who was reported missing a year ago on the 5th of July had been found in the Loire River under the boat dock in Nantes with a bullet wound in her head.

Vasilisa’s death, according to Detective Chief Marcel Clairmont of the Nantes Prosecutor's Office, was caused by bruising around the neck which resembled strangulation before the victim was killed with a bullet wound in the forehead. The cause of death was accurate after the autopsy was completed by the Washington DC Coroner Vincent Delacour. The prime suspect for her disappearance prior to her death, former CIA agent Leonard Miller’s DNA was not found anywhere on her body, and the bullet did not match his gun serial numbers thus eliminating him from the list of suspects...[read page five for more information].

[cerberus-new-owner]

WHOOOOOO week late birthday present to me from me

thank you me

your very welcome me

did i speed write like over half of this like 4 minutes ago (as im editing this and adding the intro on tumblr) yes, yes i did

But anywaysssss onto the cw

CW: like none (i hope), gn mc, mc and the characters relationships can be taken as platonic or romantic, fluffffff

Lucifer

the same pen every year but, its not just him stealing it from mc's room to rewarp it he has a box full of the exact same pens if one of them has a slight defect he will write a letter to the company that made the pens and send the damaged pen with it (mc shouldn't mention the fact that they've gotten the exact same pen from him four years in a row his pride will be hurt and he will just start engraving their name into the pens never know he may eventually switch it up and put a cute little nickname or something on the pen instead of just 'mc'), either that or he listens very closely and pays attention to what mc might need throught the year need a new desk at some point cause satan broke theirs placing a book down consider it bought mc dropped their bag in a puddle and need a new laptop it's theirs. sadly though he will only get them things that are practical hat they say they need so no jewlery or devices you already have that work fine unless mc can come up with a good excuse as to why the latest tech is needed for studying, there is the odd chance he may get them a bottle of demonus thinking 'they seem to like the taste of it even if it doesn't affect them' (doesn't matter what he gets mc the pens will always be given to them as a fun little bonus prize)

Mammon

anything and everything mc has even looked at for more than half a second is now in their room they mentioned a certain idk (whats something a half sane sheep that has to babysit like 9 demons 2 angels and a sorcerer on daily basis look at in a store oh well) mc mentions something they saw the other day that caught their eye his broke ass is looking for the cheapest deal he can find (or most expensive depends on if he has goldie or not) and buying it

Satan

like lucifer mans will think practical things and like himself he thinks books are the most practical things of all of course cats are fairly high on his list of practical things (they are a must have unless you're allergic to them if you're allergic to them im sorry cats cause you pain, then again they cause most people pain tiny little fluffy a holes that i love continuing) he will be bothering mc about their choice in books asking alot of questions along the lines of 'what genre are you most into' 'mc whos your favourite author' 'fiction or non-fiction' all in attempt to figure out what mc likes if mc isn't really into books and is into idk sports or gardening something like that he will search endlessly to find an interesting book to give mc on one of their hobbies and if they don't like the book he can always "borrow" them to learn more about mc's likes and hobbies

Asmodeus

feel like this is a no brainer but some kind of spa day or outfit (wait new headcannon alert what if he knows how to sew and occasionally makes clothes for himself for y'know when theres nothing new in fashion or theres an important event he cant find anything fabulous to wear but occasionally being the keyword he probably uses most of his talent fixing rips in satan shirts from satans outbursts) anyways... he will spend an entire day fawning over mc he will make sure they dont lift a finger god forbid they get a papercut from wrapping paper or worry lines from stressing about how tf they're supposed to sleep when mammons filled their room with gifts

Feel like because of this i should do how they wrap the gifts so this goes for Christmas / any other holidays too so bonusss (this is also who would remember to include a card)

lucifer

plain colour probably in mcs favourite colour no ribbon or anything fancy just plain [insert favourite colour] wrapping paper, he takes pride in wrapping his gifts neatly (he's wrapped the same pen for several years straight he has had practice) he gets a card for mc like the presents wrapping the outside is a plain colour with words relating to whatever celebration it is with either the dryest shit ever written on the inside or the most sappy shit depends on his relationship with mc if its the latter option though we will only give mc the card in private knowing exactly how his brothers would react

mammon

he uses the christmas wrapping paper from two years ago that everyone forgot they had until he called out 'anyone gonna use this wrapping paper i found in the closet' to satan replying 'you know thats christmas wrapping paper right' and mammon taking satan answer as a go ahead to use it, he'd do his best to wrap any gifts he got mc he looks up a tutorial and everything and 100% is proud of his work not matter how messy it looks, if anyone chooses to mention how messily it's wrapped he will say its part of the suspense he will use ribbons and bows to add extra effect

he forgets about aa card entirely

leviathan

ruri-chan wrapping paper wrapped as neatly as possible so the little images line up on every side as perfectly as possible he will spend hours trying to get the folds just right so the images line up nothing fancy like ribbons or bows he'd feel bad if he covered one of the characters so he doesn't bother with it

he panicked about what to write in the card so he gave up deciding that having a marathon with mc was way more important than writing his feelings onto a card

satan

cat wrapping paper or wrapping paper that looks like pages from books he makes any gifts he's wrapped look pretty (just like the pretty boy he is whosaidthat/j) he wraps the gift neatly and puts a little bow on it before writing a heartfelt card and using a little bit of tape to attach it to the wrapped box

asmodeus

picks out the prettiest wrapping paper he can find even if he's just wrapping a card that says "Spa Day!" he is wrapping it neatly with utmost care

he chooses a card based on mc's likes and hobbies of course making sure it's bedazzled and as pretty as possible

beelzebub

two layers of wrapping paper he found one that had images of food on it but halfway through wrapping mc's gift with it he took a bite out of the wrapping paper so he changed wrapping paper to a plain one so he would be somewhat less tempted to eat it

he gets mc a card and starts to write something in it before the writing stops mid word and theres a bunch of crumbs from him eating something forgetting to finish the card and giving it to mc anyways

belphegor

clouds it's very nicely wrapped because he probably went to one of those 'we wrap the presents for you' places and paid them the only part he did himself was the card and he put a tiny bit of effort into it until the writing gets smudged and messy and is that a bit of drool he fell asleep midway through writing oh well guess he better nap with mc to make up for falling asleep

omg what will i do nowwww guess what

boom

double bonus cause i said so

Barbatosss

tea party, tea party, tea party (i like tea) he will invite mc to the castle not only does this mean he gets to celebrate diavolo also gets to celebrate mc's birthday (like diavolo wasn't the one to suggest it, barbatos just anticipated dia asking to invite them over) barbatos will cook mc food from the human realm majority of it being things he heard them say they liked or missed from the human realm occasionally he might throw in a devidom ingredient or two to enhance somethings flavour or to add a fun little surprise (maybe he throws in something to change the colour of their fur for a few minutes who knows) as for the acctual gift part he probably gets mc something small to remind them of him or something practical he's not lucifer when it comes to gifts and may look into the future to see if theres anything mc will need in the near future like maybe their bag is gonna break in the next two weeks and they'll need a new one just so happen barbs gave them a new bag for their birhday the week before perfect

he wraps gifts by himself with a plain wrapping paper of mcs favourite colour and by far out of everyone wraps them the nicest he's lived for a millennia he's had practice wrapping gifts when it comes to writing a card for them he does his best to make it heartfelt and meaningful

soooooo tadaaa i've finished unless people want the others (by people i mean if i were in theory to gain motivation to write for the rest of the characters)

i hope people enjoyed this have a good day, night, brunch, apple, pen (pineapple apple pen)

follow the leader, the leader, the leader, follow the leader right to the masterlist

dangnabit his means im old now too

[bluestriips]

⊹₊ ⋆࿐ primadonna ୨୧

⌗ synopsis: vampire!matt uses serpent!reader’s absence as an advantage to study some gardening terms and impress her.

⌗ content: fluff, swearing, vampire!matt x serpent!reader

@z0mbbie-kissed THANK U AGAIN for prompting this 🤑

books. so many books. it’s a library, obviously, but matt must’ve pulled out every book in the gardening section. he’s practically surrounded. swallowed in the madness. he skipped dinner on campus for this, and he’s now convinced the bloodlust is eating his brain.

this is insane.

as disappointed as he was to wake up to a text from you saying; “i just threw the fuck up 😭 dorm supervisor is putting me down as absent don’t die pls” he decided to use this to his advantage. so that’s why he’s skimming through every gardening book in baudelaire and studying up on anything that looks cool so he can impress you.

the book he’s on? “fatal beauty”. way too cliche for a fucking non-fiction book title in his opinion, but he’s a poet. he would know. he knows you like purple, which is why his eyes are glued on the page on deadly nightshades, or a.k.a, belladonnas.

he’s seen them in the greenhouse and he’s pretty sure you like them, so he figures if any of them are worth remembering, it’s this one. “poisonous, huh..?” he mumbles to himself, sitting cross-legged against one of the bookshelves with the book open across his lap.

“symptoms if ingested include rash, headaches, hallucinations, dea— woah, what the fuck?? why does she have these?” he reads off the page, furrowing his brows. guess they really are the definition of fatal beauty.

he spent the rest of his friday evening researching the belladonna, as well as a few others he’d thought you’d like or knew you had in the greenhouse.

“who the fuck locked it??” you mumble, glaring at the greenhouse door handle as if it was magically going to open. “i’m gonna kill larri.”

“let’s not murder our friend.” matt grins, sneaking his hand into your pocket and pulling out the greenhouse keys you’d obviously forgotten you had, jangling them in front of your face with that little fucking smile as he unlocks the door.

you roll your eyes, snatching the keys from him and pushing past him once the door is open. “wooooow, what would i do without you.” you mumble, walking over to your section of the greenhouse, grabbing some supplies.

“nothing. you need me.” he shrugs, glancing around the all-familiar greenhouse. there’s sections where people have permission from the dean to keep their plants, including you. yours is in a little corner, every plant strategically placed based on light exposure for optimum growth.

“my carnosas are looking dry.” you frown, studying the white-red flowers as some of them have turned sort of brownish.

matt silently steps in next to you, examining them. these are one of the ones he read about. “the porcelain flowers? switch them with the aloe vera, they don’t like direct sunlight.” he says, gesturing between the carnosas and the aloe vera plants.

you turn to him, raising a brow. he wasn’t the type to pretend to know shit, which is evident because he was right. you did need to switch them. “how the everliving fuck did you know that??” you say, switching the two plants.

he shrugs, a small smile on his face, trying not to give anything away. “just picked some terms up. you’re always calling me the nerd, but i think you know more about plants than you realize.”

“huh.” you say; adjusting the plants. you didn’t think you talked that much about plants, but then again, you yap too much in general. it’s possible.

you continue to work on your plants, talking mindlessly with matt. it’s easy to just say whatever comes to mind around him, and vice versa. there’s just a comfort around eachother that neither of you can really explain.

you talk about gardening, and he listens, occasionally throwing in some term or fact that you still don’t fully understand how he knows. or you’ll talk about teachers you hate, or the conversation will drift to one of tara’s parties which matt never goes to and you don’t understand why, or a new song he’s trying to learn.

and typically, he’s doing more listening than talking. at first it was solely because he was sorta shy around you. and then, getting more comfortable, he realized he just really likes looking at you. he’s scared to admit that, for obvious reasoning, but it’s true.

“yo, you good?” you say, tilting your head slightly as you realize he’s zoned out. you’re moving around and watering a few plants, still yapping mindlessly. “yeah- yeah, m’listening.” he says, his eyes landing on a certain purple flower, being moved into a larger pot.

“is that one new? the uhhh…” he snaps his fingers a few times, trying to remember. “the primadonnas?” he says. you furrow your brows, glancing back down at the plant. that’s not right. “prima- you mean belladonna?” you say, tilting your head as you look back up to face him.

“oh. shit. that’s what the book said. i knew that sounded wrong.” he laughs slightly, growing quieter. how smooth, dumbass. your head perks up, a grin threatening to control the small smile on your face. “book? matt— did you study plants while i was sick?”

shit. he freezes, slowly turning his head to look back up at you like that one roblox meme, looking to the bench to your left instead of your face. “…….no.” well what the fuck. he can literally feel the redness on his face. and there’s no doubt you can see it.

“oh my god, you fucking cornball.” you say, but the grin on your face and the hug you pulled him into said the opposite. in all honesty, this shouldn’t surprise you. matt’s the sweetest person you’ve ever met, and he’s always doing dumb shit like this. but that’s exactly it, you’re not used to this level of care in general.

“barely. not when i fucked up the name of that flower.” he mumbles back, slightly annoyed with himself for making himself look like an idiot. he went through all those books just to impress you, and he still fucked up. he probably looks so weird now.

little does he know, whether or not he fucked up, the fact that he used his free time to try and impress you rather than doing something he values means more than anything to you.

and little do you know, to him, you’re more valuable than anything else.

[genshin-impacted]

Exchange of Rings

(Alhaitham x Reader - 3/?) 

You and Alhaitham learn about each other while living together. Neither of you mind what you're seeing (or hearing). OR cooking + hobbies + singing

Word Count: ~3.5k

Notes: afab!reader, second person pov “you”, gn!reader, switches pov with Alhaitham, modern au, arranged marriage, fall first/fall harder, suggestive themes, slow burn

[Previous - Next]

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Like most working adults, you and Alhaitham are gone for most of the day and home at around sunset. With your differing schedules, you don’t get to see each other for most of the week. Still, the two of you begin to develop a routine together with the awareness that you are no longer living alone. 

It means making more food so the two of you can pack the leftovers for lunch. Having cooked at home for your family, you have less trouble adapting the portions to make enough for the two of you, but for the first nights Alhaitham made dinner, there was nothing to bring to work the next day. It wasn’t a big deal, but Alhaitham seemed inordinately upset, if only because he had believed he had made enough for four people and increased the proportion of ingredients appropriately. 

You think you were partially to blame, considering you probably ate enough saffron rice for maybe two and a half people, and you tell him just as much. You were half-joking, but Alhaitham leveled you a look. Before you could get nervous and actually apologize, he nodded to himself. 

“I’ll simply increase the proportions two-fold next time,” Alhaitham said. “I should have taken into consideration both of our individual diet patterns when calculating.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine, really,” you stammered, feeling your face heat up. “Your cooking is just really good. I don’t eat that much usually.”

Alhaitham had stared at you again, observing you, and it is now a feeling you have grown familiar with, though it still makes you feel the need to look away. It’s not as though it really bothers you; if it had, you don’t think you would survive in this relationship where Alhaitham is prone to thinking before speaking. (Sometimes, for a long time.)

In some ways, the way Alhaitham looks at you makes you feel seen. And that’s why it’s embarrassing, you think: you feel as though he can tell who you really are behind the polite pretenses and manners hammered into your psyche. 

Just when you think he’s decided to drop the topic, he said, “There’s no need to be embarrassed. There’s nothing wrong with a big appetite. If you were worried about your diet or appearance-”

“Speaking about food,” you interrupted, voice a twinge higher, “is this your mom’s recipe? It’s really good!”  

You can still palpate his desire to continue the previous conversation even as he graciously allowed you to talk about the subject of the day. 

.

Living together also means waking up to an alarm and clicking snooze only twice– maximum. The two of you actually had a serious discussion about this, having apparently shared the scenario of an unfortunate roommate pressing snooze every five minutes for a half hour. 

The two of you already worked out the chores; some things you do together (dusting, cooking, setting up the table), while others you take turns doing. The topic of laundry came up and Alhaitham is the one suggesting doing individual loads for the time being, justifying by saying that he probably will have to do it more often. Which is fair, you think, you take up twice as much closet space as Alhaitham, so that means he has less clothes to rotate through in general. 

What he lacks in closet space, Alhaitham makes it up in the form of books. As promised, he moves in his bookcases, which line up the walls of the small living room next to the couch that he often sits at after dinner for leisurely reading. 

As a reader of specifically non-fiction, you think Alhaitham must be well-read in all topics. You like to dabble in some topics from the sciences or humanities too, and it’s come in handy, helping along some of your supper conversations as they veer towards specific bits of knowledge that you’ve garnered throughout the years. While the last time you’ve really read an informative book was eons ago, Alhaitham is on a constant pursuit of knowledge, sifting through pages and pages of information and grasping at the ones that are pertinent– no matter how esoteric the knowledge may be. 

You remember peering into his bookshelves the other day when it was your turn to dust (worst chore by far). You were hoping to pick up a topic that you could perhaps talk with him about, but some of the books you’ve seen are truly beyond your knowledge AND interest.  

Especially with “Factory Mass Manufacturing and Warehouse Management,” you think absently, as you cut slices of apples onto a plate. Considering how Alhaitham is the secretary of a prominent business, you can somehow see the relevance. But even so, you can never imagine reading something like that just for fun.

You walk over with the plate of fruit, crunching on a slice before gently placing the plate on the arm of the couch next to Alhaitham. You peer over his shoulder to look at his reading material.  The font is small, paragraphs thick and heavily informative almost like a textbook, but Alhaitham is close to finishing. Incredulous, you catch a glimpse of the title, and it’s the same warehouse management book you’d seen a few days before.

“You’re already almost done reading that?” You ask, bewildered. You look at Alhaitham as he pauses midway from picking up a slice of the apples you have cut. 

“It’s not that long,” he replies, flipping to the last page. “Only about 400.” 

‘Only,’ he says. You only nod. “Is it interesting to you? How do you choose what book to read next?”

“I don’t have a system, if that’s what you’re asking,” Alhaitham says. “I just choose whatever seems to be a good read for the time being.”

“Do you read just non-fiction?”

“Not always. I find that fiction and imagination can often explore various topics that reality cannot.” Alhaitham bookmarks his place in the book before shutting it. You blink when he turns to place his full attention on you. “Do you read?”

Fanfiction comes to mind immediately, but you aren’t planning to admit that right off the bat. “Nothing recently,” you say. He gives you a glance before standing up, and you follow curiously behind him as he sifts through his selection of books.  “I also usually read fictional works over non-fiction, but…”

“Are you interested in the sciences?” Alhaitham asks, pulling out a book from his collection, “Or history?”

Alhaitham ends up giving you two of the thinner non-fiction books to start with, both about topics that you surprisingly do have an interest in. You don’t remember ever talking to him about the specifics, but you garner he must have gained some sort of knowledge about your preferences in the times you’ve talked. You don’t have it in you to turn down Alhaitham’s book recommendations even though you really doubt you can find it in yourself to finish a book let alone read non-fiction. 

For one, you feel like this is a heaven-sent opportunity to bond with the man. Anyone can look at him and see how important books are to him, and you want to show interest in his hobbies, no matter how different they are from yours. And if you do end up reading, you get some more knowledge you can talk to Alhaitham about and- you try not to be too giddy at this– you might use this chance of reading to sit next to Alhaitham when he reads. (You believe they call it parallel play.) And two: you might get to understand Alhaitham just a little bit more if you delve into the books he cherishes so much.

And for that, you are motivated to see these books through to the end. 

If you sneak a peek at Alhaitham over the pages of your book ever so often, you hope he does not mind. 

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.

.

You and Alhaitham begin to develop a routine together with the awareness that he is no longer living alone. 

Alhaitham has had his share of roommates, has lived with his parents or grandmother for a period of time. But as an adult, he has the autonomy that regardless of where or who he lives with, he does everything on his own. It is different trying to live together with a spouse.

It means sharing the space in which the two of you inhabit. Alhaitham prefers to read on the couch before sleeping, and you always end up sitting on the other seat with the laptop, most likely browsing the internet. When glancing over, he can see you either shop online, scroll through social media, or play a game. It’s an open-world concept, you had explained to him when he asked once out of curiosity: Genshin Impact.  

You had looked at him then with a mix of embarrassment and anticipation, on the precipice of saying something more. You probably wanted to elaborate on what kind of game it was, but then you seem to hold yourself back, smiling at him before going back to your screen. Alhaitham has never been interested in video games, but he almost wishes you had continued to talk, if only to get to understand the hobbies you’ve touched upon during dinner.

Small talk is terrible, but with you, he can tolerate it to a certain extent. Even when asking about your day, the perspective that you bring to the table so differs from his own that he imagines if he went through the same day as you, the two of you would create very different experiences. 

Your hobbies, too, are very different from his own. His life has always revolved around books, while you have dipped your toes into whatever hobby suits your fancy at that time. Anime, gaming, baking, crocheting, embroidering, writing, photography: your interests are diverse and often fleeting, though some of those have stayed with you till now. Alhaitham is a learner- he has theories and knowledge filling his mind to the brim, and you are a doer, fueled by passion and creativity.

Alhaitham concludes by the end of the month that even with all your differences, there is at least one thing he knows the two of you have in common: curiosity. Perhaps that is why he finds it even pleasant to converse with you. He finds genuine interest in the topics you talk about, and you listen intently when he speaks upon his latest book. The reason why he knows you’re truly listening is because you said just as much.

“Why read books when I can just have you explain them to me,” you tell him jokingly as you wash the dishes that night. “You’re really good at teaching things, Alhaitham. Thanks for being so patient with me.” 

Alhaitham is not unfamiliar with compliments, but he doesn’t remember the last time someone has commended him on his abilities to instruct. And for his ‘patience’? He’s more likely to leave mid-conversation than wait for someone to try and find a grasp on their words. 

He can recall tutoring someone or other during his undergraduate years, but people are rarely as willing to learn or conscientious as you. Perhaps that is why he doesn’t mind taking his time explaining things to you. Some things are harder to grasp for you than others, but he commends you for the effort. And he knows you put the effort into understanding, if the look of disconcert with your furrowed brows and slow nods are of any indication. Your questions are pertinent; they show that you’re actually listening.

It’s much better than some other people he has tried to teach who have only wasted his time trying to ask for help with something that they have no intention to use. It must be why with you, he may seem more patient, while others have found him either curt or intimidating. (He could care less about what people think of him, and the less he interacts with them, the better.) 

Alhaitham gives a simple ‘thanks’ before your attention is back on the dishes. He goes to sit on the couch as per usual to read, but once in a while, he glances up from the pages to look at you, the far more interesting thing in the room.  

If you are by any way bothered by his looks, you don’t say.

.

Living together denotes exactly that– being under the same roof for an extended period of time. On days that both Alhaitham and you stay home all day, a rare occurrence, are days that he fully understands what it means to live in the same space as someone else. 

It’s hearing you let out a huff of laughter after you see something funny on your phone. Or listening to the muffled music that comes from your headphones when the two of you are on the couch together. And you are often on the couch together, many times not speaking but simply doing different activities in the same vicinity, which Alhaitham finds he appreciates very much. 

One of his distaste for married life was the idea that he would always have to be doing the same thing as his significant other. He understands the appeal of it, certainly; seeing you open one of the books he recommended to you as the two of you sit side-by-side has a small smile forming on his lips. But to be doing the exact same thing as his spouse all the time? He much prefers the way you and him complement each other, doing things while still being considerate of the other. 

“Do you mind if I cook fish tonight?” 

“I’m planning to vacuum in an hour; will that interrupt your work?”

“It’s a little cold tonight. Can I turn up the heater?”

And when Alhaitham works out in the living room, he notices you staring at him as you read. 

His headphones are in, but when he pauses his workout, he pauses his music as well. “Am I bothering you?” He asks. He doesn’t think he makes a lot of noise when he exercises, aside from the obligatory breathes he has to take. Perhaps the constant movement in the corner of your eyes is distracting. He finds you frozen in place, mouth gaping open and closed as you try to answer him. He doesn’t particularly think it’s a very difficult question to answer, but he knows you often try to find the best way to word things so he waits.  

Alhaitham does not expect the very simple and stammered “no” that comes from you and the way you scramble to bury your nose back into your book.

You’re embarrassed, he thinks. Why? He looks at you for a while longer, and you seem more determined to not meet his gaze, as though refusing to look at him- ah. 

Alhaitham recalls that the first question you asked him was whether he found you attractive. You never provided an answer to him whether or not you found him attractive, but perhaps you didn’t need to, especially not now.

It’s a… strange feeling, to be admired for his looks. He isn’t exactly unfamiliar with them, but he never cared for how people viewed him– good or bad. Having someone like you look at him, on the other hand… He finds he does not mind the way you are flustered at being caught staring, yet respectful enough to not to purposely bother him and accommodating enough to let him exercise despite how obviously distracting he is.

It’s a little… endearing. And very amusing. If only you’d look at him now, you would catch him smiling even as his workout puts him through the wringer. 

.

.

.

If you could go back in time to catch yourself before you started staring at Alhaitham– attractive, extremely fit Alhaitham who is working out in front of you– you would. You try not to make eye contact with him again after your weak response, and you feel his gaze on you for a moment longer before he goes back to his workout.

Pushups. With one arm. Sweat glistening on his forehead, breath heavy from effort- 

You take a quiet deep breath in and think of less… distracting thoughts and back to the explanation of the downfall of the Byzantine Empire that you’re reading right now. It is unironically a riveting book to sift through, but it’s just that you have something else more entertaining in front of you. Respectfully, you avert your gaze.

“I can cook dinner after I shower,” Alhaitham suddenly says, and you look to your left, craning your neck up to look at him as he wipes his neck with a towel. 

“Okay,” you say automatically, mind still reeling. A brief pause. “Have a nice shower.” 

Alhaitham looks at you again, and you are used to it by now to know that it is neither a good nor bad thing, until you see a quip of a smile on his face. “Thanks,” he basically drawls. “I will.” 

The moment Alhaitham is out of earshot, you slam your face into your book, the cool pages battling the heat on your cheeks.

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.

.

Living together means Alhaitham can discern some of your habits. It’s the plate of fruits that you cut for him when it’s a quiet afternoon of reading. It’s the way you start or end your sentences, the way you refer to certain things to a point of his own recognition as though you are teaching him your own language. And although you did not do this in the earliest stages of his relationship with you, he suspects that you are beginning to at least become more comfortable living with him, because he begins to hear you sing.

Most of it is probably not meant for his ears. Alhaitham remembers coming back to the apartment with the sounds of your distant, muffled singing, which stops the moment he closes the door shut with a slam. (There is no other way to close this door securely, unfortunately.) He never brings attention to it, suspecting it would only embarrass you and discourage you from singing. 

Or would it do the opposite, he wonders, covering his yawn as he walks into the kitchen after his afternoon nap to see you starting to cook dinner. You’re humming along to the music on your headphones, oblivious to his approach, and Alhaitham takes to leaning against the refrigerator until you turn around and notice him. It’s the first time he’s ever seen you jump and yelp like that. 

“I’ve noticed you sing a lot,” Alhaitham says.

“Sorry, yeah,” you say sheepishly. “Is it distracting?” 

“Not really. There’s really no need to apologize. You’re actually on tune as far as I can tell.” He sees you press your lips together, trying to hide your pleased smile. “Are we eating pasta tonight?” He asks.

“Yeah, with tomato sauce,” you say, stirring the pot gently. “So you really don’t mind? Me…” You wave your hand in a vague gesture. “Singing and all.”

“I don’t mind,” he says. Alhaitham thinks he’s been quite straightforward with how he feels about things in general. You know by now that he does not give opinions in halves; what he thinks is as clear as day. You don’t look so convinced, but it is true: he doesn’t mind hearing you sing. He’s always been sensitive to noises, bothered by the interruptions to the serenity of silence, but your voice he finds he does not mind. Perhaps he is used to hearing you, having lived with you for some time now, but he finds it hard to separate you and your voice with the image of home. (He supposes he has two places he can call home now.)

That and he can always filter the noises you make if he really needs to. Being accustomed to living with you has its perks, after all, but he has yet to find a reason to do so. In some ways, silence is no longer a part of his daily routine anymore. Alhaitham finds he does not mind that either when it involves you.  

Alhaitham continues, “Though I do ask you don’t sing in the showers if it’s late; I do sleep quite early-”

“Yeah, no, no problem,” you stammer, staring at the pot as though it required more of your attention. (It does not as far as he knows.) “I- So you’ve heard me sing in there too?”

“Yes,” he says simply. When you stand there, stunned, he continues, “Again, I don’t mind it.”

“Noted.” You slowly grin, telling him teasingly, “Feel free to burst into song any time too, Alhaitham.” 

The comment surprises a huff of laughter out of him, and he walks to the living room knowing full well you’re still smiling ear to ear. “Unlikely, but thanks anyways.” He says, “I’ll be reading; let me know if you need help.”

Alhaitham hears you chirp out an affirmation before going back to cooking. The stove flickers out as you turn off the stove, turning around to separate the pasta from water. Alhaitham is a few pages into his new book when he begins to hear you hum again. He looks up from his book to watch you bob your head along with the song you’re singing, steam rising from the sink as the hot water is poured. 

He’s smiling as he goes back to read his book. 

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Taglist:

@crowbird @thetwinkims @jaguarthecat @loki-zos-galvus @fantasy-enthusiast @tanspostsblog @dxstopiaa @theprinceofkhaos @homeinhobii @nagisuterus

[yanderelionwrites]

Pucker Up, Buttercup (Yandere!Denki Kaminari x Reader)

Synopsis: For some reason, Denki has the notion that giving you your first kiss will bring the two of you closer together...

Content Warning: yandere, implied kidnapping, non-consensual touching, forced kissing

Word Count: 1.9k

Denki Kaminari was an affectionate man. Words weren’t enough for him; he needed action to convey his love. So it hurt his heart to find out that his darling didn’t share the same sentiment.

You hated his touch. Each hug was too tight, every peck on the cheek was too slobbery. Everything he did was too much. You can’t help but flinch every time he comes close, waiting in anticipation for him to smother you in cuddles and kisses.

Denki didn’t know what he was doing wrong. He just wants to love on you, why are you acting scared? He thought taking you and keeping you in his apartment would bring the two of you closer, but it seems to have done the opposite. He thought showering you in affection and gifts would do the trick, but that’s proving to be fruitless too.

The blond sighed as he patrolled through the city on his usual route. His eyes were scanning the streets for danger but his mind was elsewhere. There’s gotta be some way to get you to be comfortable with him. At least to the point where you don’t push him away whenever he hugs you.

He thinks back to his days in U.A., when you actually welcomed his touch with open arms. Denki had never felt so much warmth and kindness from another person before, and he quickly developed a crush within only a few weeks of knowing you. He’d had plenty of other crushes in the past, but with you, it was different. This was something he’d never felt before. You made him feel wanted, needed.

Soon he grew to crave your presence. He just had to have you; he didn’t want to be with anyone else.

Well, he got what he asked for, but not without suffering the consequences. Now, instead of warmth, Denki was met with fear and anger. You wanted nothing to do with him anymore. And it bothered him to no end.

He trudged through the agency he worked at, feeling tired and annoyed that he hasn’t found a solution to improving your attitude towards him. Denki slumped down into his chair, laying his head flat against his wooden desk. Think…how can I win them over again…

“So what’d you think of the manga I lent you? It was good, right?” You asked him, sitting on his dorm bed while he sat on the floor, playing on his Nintendo Switch. 

“Eh, it was kinda cheesy, not gonna lie,” Denki smirked, leaning his head back to look at you. “No way do you actually like reading those trashy romance books.”

“Aw, come on! I thought it was sweet. The way the male lead gave the main character her first kiss at the end, it was so romantic!” You gushed. “Don’t tell me you don’t ever daydream about scenarios like that.”

Denki shrugged, knowing full well that he does dream about that kind of stuff. All the time. With you. But he would never admit that. “Maybe. I just think it’s a little unrealistic.”

“It’s fiction, Kaminari. And a manga. Of course it’s gonna be fluffed up,” You rolled your eyes. Then smiling dreamily, you added, “I hope my first kiss will be that exciting…”

That’s it!

Denki shot up from his seat, causing his coworkers to startle next to him. How has he not thought of this before? He knows for sure that you have yet to have your first kiss, and who better to make it as romantic as can be than him? This will certainly bring the two of you closer! It has to! An ecstatic smile crept onto Denki’s face as he got ready to go home. His cheeks warmed at the thought of feeling your lips for the first time, and he couldn’t wait to see your own flushed face afterward.

By the time he got home, Denki was practically vibrating with excitement. As usual, you weren’t there to greet him at the door, but that was okay. Everything will be better than okay after tonight.

“Hey, I’m home!” He called out, turning on the living room lights while his eyes scanned the room. His brief frown quickly disappeared when he saw your bedroom lights on, the door open just a crack. He burst through the door, causing you to jump and shut the book you were reading. You gave your captor an indignant glare.

“Ever heard of knocking?” You snarled from your sitting position on the bed, flipping through the book to find the page you were on.

Denki chuckled, coming around to his side of the bed and sitting down. “Why would I need to knock to get to my own bedroom?” He simpered, slipping his visor off and tossing them onto the nightstand. “You weren’t doing anything naughty in here, were you?”

You tugged on the collar that was strapped around your neck, a nervous tic you had developed when Denki had forced you to wear it. He had “gifted” it to you the first week you were here, explaining that if you misbehaved or tried to run away, it would shock you. How fitting for a hero with an electricity quirk.

“No, you just startled me, that’s all,” You muttered, shoving your face back into your book. 

Denki hummed as he finished changing out of his hero costume into his regular clothes. “I’m only teasing, buttercup. I know you’ve been extra good lately. So good that I think you deserve a reward.”

Your eyes flicked to him, a skeptical but still curious look on your face. Denki often had a wildly different definition for what was considered a reward or a gift. You put your book down, prompting him to continue.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve had some fresh air, soooo…why don’t we go out onto the balcony?”

You perked up at that idea, eyes widening in surprise. Normally, it would be a silly thing to get excited about, but it’s been so long since you’ve been outside. Felt the wind on your skin. Breathed in the (not-so-fresh) city air. You were never allowed on the balcony, Denki’s orders. You guessed it was because there was the possibility of someone seeing and recognizing you. Or the fact that you might shout for help the minute you step out onto the platform.

“Really? You’ll let me go out there?” You asked, hopeful and pleading.

“Yeah, babe! You’ve earned it,” The blond grinned, coming to stand in front of you to pat your head. “But you have to promise me that you won’t try anything funny, okay?”

“Yeah, promise,” You rushed out, jumping up from the bed and heading to the balcony’s sliding glass door. Denki followed after you, loving the way you waited patiently for him to unlock it. How cute, you look just like a puppy. He’s glad you’re as enthusiastic about this as he is.

Soon, you were gazing up at the night sky, your smile shining just as brightly as the full moon above you. You wished the city's lights would turn off so you could see the millions of stars covering the sky, but you would have to settle for the few that were there. It was still a beautiful sight, however, one that you would never take for granted again.

Your hands took hold of the railing, and you leaned over it to look at the streets that were still busy with cars and pedestrians heading home or enjoying a night on the town. You used to be one of those people.

You sighed.

“It’s a nice view, right?” You had almost forgotten that Denki was out there too; he had been so quiet up until now. You only nodded in response, trying to save the peaceful silence that had been kept between the two of you.

“When I get big as a hero, I’m gonna buy the nicest penthouse I can find,” He didn’t seem to get the hint, though. “And then we’ll have the biggest balcony with the best view in the whole city. How do you like the sound of that?” He was right beside you now, elbows nearly touching yours on the railing. You scooted an inch or two away.

I’d like it better if you weren’t in the picture.

At least that’s what you wanted to say, but didn’t because you wanted to stay out there as long as possible. You opted to just shrug your shoulders, an indifferent answer that wouldn’t lead him on.

“We could spend hours out there then. No one would be able to see us cuz we’d be so high up,” Denki was leaning in even more now, his face dangerously close to yours. His eyes were half-lidded, giving you a sultry look. “It would just be the two of us.”

You didn’t like how his gaze jumped down to your lips for a brief second. Alarm bells were going off inside your head, and you were starting to regret accepting his reward. Your body tensed when he moved his hand over yours.

“We should probably head back inside, it’s getting a little chilly out-“

Swift as lightning, Denki pinned your hands to the railing, pressing his chest against yours so your back was squished against the metal barrier. Before you knew it, you were met with an innocent and coy smile inches away from your face.

“We can’t leave yet…we just got out here,” His breath tickled your nose, causing it to scrunch up. “You’re always trying to leave whenever I get close to you… It really hurts me, buttercup…”

“Denki, l-let me go,” You wanted to sound intimidating and stern, but your words came out shaky and pathetic. You tried to remove your hands from his, but they wouldn’t budge. You had underestimated how strong your captor really was.

“Shhh… It’s okay, baby,” Denki moved in towards your lips, his eyes closing as he puckered his mouth.

You leaned backwards, as far as you could go, turning your head to the side to avoid his kiss. You gasped as you got a nice view of the drop below, but the vertigo was short-lived when you felt Denki grab your face, smushing your cheeks together to pucker your own lips. He brought you close to him again, making direct eye contact with you.

“Stop struggling. I’m trying to make this special for you,” He huffed, though his glare didn’t last long as he returned to the task at hand. “They say you never forget your first kiss, so I want to make sure this will be burned into your mind.”

Denki smashed his lips against yours in a crushing kiss. Just like everything he did, it was too much. It was obvious he was inexperienced, and you figured that this was his first time too. His lips felt rough as they moved against yours in an overly eager way, and you whimpered at how he tried to delve his tongue into your mouth. He only smirked at your resistance, however, taking it as a challenge. The blond bit down on your bottom lip, causing you to yelp and giving him the access he needed. His wet and warm tongue wriggled all around inside your mouth, exploring every crevice and committing it to memory.

You thanked whatever higher being that was listening to your silent pleas when Denki released you to gasp for air. A trail of spit connected the two of you, and you desperately wanted to wipe it off, but your captor beat you to it. He licked his lips right afterward, shooting a playful grin your way.

“Was that romantic enough for you? Because we can always try again.”

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome <3

[justforbooks]

For most of his prolific, 40-year career, Percival Everett has been published by a non-profit imprint in Minneapolis, outside the traditional centre of US publishing in New York. In the UK, he was long out of print until being picked up by Influx Press, the small independent that in 2022 published his Booker-shortlisted The Trees. But after the success of that novel, major labels on both sides of the Atlantic came calling. Suddenly he’s hot property: his new book, James, arrives hard on the heels of the Oscar-winning film American Fiction, adapted from Everett’s 2001 novel Erasure, about a frustrated black novelist who decides to live down to stereotyped expectations of his work by producing a pseudonymous spoof titled My Pafology.

If you’ve read Erasure or seen American Fiction, you’ll be prepared for the central conceit of James, a reboot of Mark Twain’s 1884 novel Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, narrated by the enslaved Jim, one half of the book’s runaway odd couple rafting up the antebellum Mississippi. In Twain’s novel, the boy narrator, Huck, has fled home, only to encounter Jim, his guardian’s slave, also on the run because he’s about to be sold (“Ole missus... treats me pooty rough, but she awluz said she wouldn’ sell me down to Orleans”). In James, Jim’s speech, like that of every black character in the novel, is a calculated code-switching put-on: “White folks expect us to sound a certain way and it can only help if we don’t disappoint them... The better they feel, the safer we are”, or “Da mo’ betta dey feels, da mo’ safer we be”, in “the correct incorrect grammar” required by what Jim calls “situational translations”.

There’s no mistaking Everett’s glee in the steady comedy this generates throughout the book, but the language games have teeth, too, as a literal matter of life and death in a novel in which roleplay goes hand in hand with survival. Playing fast and loose with the original Twain throughout, the story unspools a series of last-gasp escapes that each usher in further jeopardy, as Jim is caught up in a money-making scam by vagrants posing as down-at-heel aristocrats or sold to a minstrel troupe, before pinning hopes of freeing his family on a hazardous disguise, only for a shipwreck to intervene.

James offers page-turning excitement but also off-kilter philosophical picaresque – Jim enters into dream dialogue with Enlightenment thinkers Voltaire and John Locke to coolly skewer their narrow view of human rights – before finally shifting gear into gun-toting revenge narrative when Jim’s view of white people as his “enemy” (not “oppressor”, which “supposes a victim”) sharpens with every atrocity witnessed en route. It’s American history as real-life dystopia, voiced by its casualties, but as you might guess from The Trees – a novel about lynching that won a prize for comic fiction – solemn it is not: “White people try to tell us that everything will be just fine when we go to heaven. My question is, Will they be there? If so, I might make other arrangements.”

The central dilemma of Twain’s novel, whose ironies have troubled readers differently down the decades, turns on Huck’s fear that it’s immoral to abet Jim’s flight, not least because Jim wants to free (or, in Huck’s word, “steal”) his family, a notion that leaves the boy aghast. Everett likewise deploys the duo’s misaligned perception for sardonic punch even as he treats their relationship tenderly. Witness the moment when Huck moots going to fight in the civil war:

“To fight in a war,” he said. “Can you imagine?” “Would that mean facing death every day and doing what other people tell you to do?” I asked. “I reckon.” “Yes, Huck, I can imagine.”

Gripping, painful, funny, horrifying, this is multi-level entertainment, a consummate performance to the last. Is there pause for thought when Jim says “white people love feeling guilty”, having told us on the first page that “it always pays to give white folks what they want”? Yes, after decades as a writer’s writer, Everett is finally hitting the big time, but somehow you doubt he’ll be giving anyone the chance to feel too cosy about that.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[misscammiedawn]

Ok, here's an ask for y'all:

If you (each of you? all of you? y'all get to decide how to interpret this) could pick any one piece of media - book, movie, TV show, musical, etc - to be adapted to another form, what would you pick and why? (optional - what changes, if any, would you want made to suit that new media form)

This question brought to you by the number of people I hear talking about Wicked.

Goodness, my love, you do not make this easy, do you?

Fine. I shall do my best to answer all for myself and maybe let the others reblog with their own thoughts if such things occur later. Particularly with how volatile we have been today in terms of switching.

Book - This may be because of the question we got from Jaime but Hulk is on the mind so an adaptation of either Immortal Hulk or just getting to see Joe in live action would be all I could ask for. You know us, we love Ben Reilly and Joe FIxit more than the heroes that they splintered off of. It'd be good to see a movie/TV Show (or animated series, but Animated Marvel hasn't been good since Earth's Mightiest Heroes) with my favorite trans rights shitty sunshine man.

Cammie wants you to know, my love, that we didn't forget Tortall and she would burn every comic we have ever owned (rude, Sweetling, but I'll allow it) if it meant getting Alanna animated.

Movie - Spiderverse tie-in video game in the same artstyle as the movies. This is non-nonnegotiable. I'm right. Everyone needs to be on my level with this. Easter Eggs in the Insomnia game cannot sustain me. I want a Liv boss fight as Gwen.

TV Show - I'm still waiting for the official Mr. Robot comic to be released. Any day now.

Musical - Hmm... this is a tough one. There are a litany of shows we like that haven't had film adaptations (Pimpernell, Secret Garden, Chess, Next To Normal to name a few)

Game - We learned our lesson with the Persona adaptations and NieR:Automata. A game doesn't translate well into other media. I'd watch the shit out of a Heaven Will Be Mine or Pathologic anime regardless of quality though. I'd also read fan-fiction if any existed for certain games I shall not name.

Music - Rush deserve a rock opera. It's not fair that Queen, Billy Joel and Michael Jackson got them and Rush didn't.

[princess-of-the-corner]

One thing to note about RWBY is that it REALLY "grew the beard" over the course of its runtime.

Volumes 1-3 were animated in Poser (software that wasn't intended for use in animation), with rougher backgrounds and more simplistic writing related to complex themes. They were also only ever intended to be an extended prologue to the ACTUAL show, with the Big Twist of the Volume 3 finale being that the climax was actually just the inciting incident to the show's ACTUAL conflict.

Starting from Volume 4, the crew switched to Maya (software that's intended for use in animation), got better at writing more complex topics (the White Fang is treated more sympathetically than in the "Beacon Arc"), and Jaune was actually an interesting character for the entirety of the "Anima Arc" that lasted from Volumes 4-6.

Volume 7 is probably the best season of the show (I don't have a Crunchyroll account and so I haven't had the chance to watch Volume 9 in its entirety yet, even if I know what happens there). It deconstructs the whole "America Saves the World" trope with Atlas, and has some pretty good political satire that wound up being eerily prophetic. Also, Robyn Hill is one of the best characters the show has ever introduced.

Volume 8 contains both the best and worst moments of the series. V8C1-V8C11 features some of the best storytelling and most tense action from the franchise ever, but V8C12 has the overall message of "Okay but, the people who dehumanized Penny over her mechanical body KINDA had a point, let's fix what isn't broken!", V8C13 is a pretty descent villain episode, and V8C14 is by far the most offensive piece of media I've ever been subjected to. But still, up until those last three episodes, it was basically flawless.

I've heard Volume 9 is pretty good, but I'm side-eying everything involving Jaune because I honestly DESPISE the direction they took his arc in. But if we ignore EVERYTHING related to Jaune's role in the Volume, I like basically everything I've heard about it.

RWBY: After the Fall is a very good spin-off novel focused on popular side characters Team CFVY and shows what they've been up to since the Fall of Beacon in Volume 3. it also has a really interesting gimmick, as every other chapter is a flashback to something that happened in Team CFVY's past, further fleshing out their minor roles in the show.

RWBY: Before the Dawn is actual garbage. Sun's character arc (wherein his hypocrisy from the show is actually acknowledged and challenged) and Coco's and Velvet's shiptease are probably the only redeeming qualities. Taking this book into account actually makes Ironwood's reluctance to call Vacuo for help look REASONABLE. 2/10.

RWBY: Roman Holiday is a prequel novel focused on Roman and Neo, but Neo is the true protagonist here. The first few chapters leading up to their first meeting alternate between their perspectives, with the book being largely Neo focused after they finally meet.

RWBY: Fairy Tales of Remnant is an anthology of in-universe fairy tales. You can read it at any point in the series, but the further into the series you are when you read it, the more hints to RWBY's overarching plot you'll notice. While all of the Fairy Tales are works of fiction, some of them are dramatizations of actual events in the shadow war that RWBY's plot revolves around.

RWBY x JL: Super Heroes and Huntsmen is a 2-part film series wherein Team RWBY teams up with the Justice League. Part 1 features the Justice League visiting Remnant (kinda) during the events of Volume 7, and Part 2 features Team RWBY visiting DC Earth after the events of Volume 9.

There's also some ambiguously canonical comics published by DC, as well as 2 explicitly non-canon RWBY/DC crossover comic series. One features alternate versions of the Justice League cast who were born on Remnant, another features Remnant and DC Earth fusing due to Salem tricking Lex Luthor into helping her by playing off of his hatred of Superman. Neither of these crossovers are in continuity with the crossover movies.

Fascinating actually

[esta-elavaris]

Tagged by @wanderdreamer thank you 💜💜

Favorite Color: if we're just going by the ones I wear the most, black, green, red, and gold. Big fan of the red nails and red lipstick combo. This is just a tricky one, though, because I'm a fan of every colour in the right context. But I'm a big ol' goth so that influences things lolol.

Last Song: Passion's Killing Floor - HIM (god, Ville Valo's lyrics tho)

Last Movie: Last Night in Soho -- this is a weird one for me because uhhh like the protagonist I absolutely did not Do Well when I went to uni in London from a personal standpoint, so watching it always brings that back, but it's such a good movie.

Currently Watching: I've been slowly picking my way through Snowpiercer with a one episode per night at most pace. I watched the first ~season and a half a little over a year ago so it's been fun to come back to! I'm so bad for "watching" things by putting them on as background noise while I write, and then I have no idea what's actually going on, so it's been a nice change of pace to actually just sit and properly watch something for an hour each evening.

Other Stuff I Watched This Year: The Great, which I really enjoyed once I got used to the tone of it. I also keep meaning to catch up with Peaky Blinders, but it's one of those that you really have to properly watch and like I said I'm bad at that. I also want to rewatch Outlander from the beginning before I get into the new and final season, so that could be a good background noise shout! Also slowly getting into The White Lotus. And I finally completed the Sopranos this month, after swearing I would for years and somehow (?!?!) managing to avoid spoilers for the ending.

Oooo also the Serpent Queen! Didn't expect to enjoy that one as much as I did!

Shows I Dropped This Year: There've been quite a few but I could not name them because I tend to get 30 mins in, realise every character could die in the next scene and I would not care, and that's that. The Last of Us fell victim to that. I got to a point where I was so bored and only watching it for the hype, which is no reason to do anything you don't enjoy.

Currently Reading: God, getting a Switch lite decimated my previously very good reading habit this month, but I'm getting back into it. Currently rereading The Two Towers (just finished the Helm's Deep chapter), and reading David Goggins' second book for the first time. I like having a non-fiction one on the go because I always find it inspiring, whereas fiction is just pure escapism for me 💜

Thank you for the tag! I enjoyed it!

Tagging @ass-deep-in-demons, @neverisle, @scyllas-revenge, @quillofspirit and @trenko-heart

[in-arlathan]

Get To Know Me

Who dis? It's me! Been a hot minute, hasn't it? This year has been a pile of dung up until now, if I'm being completely honest, hence my absence from Tumblr and most social media. I had an accident in December and have been feeling like dirt ever since. But: I'm back now! Mostly thanks to my beloved @johaerys-writes and the amazing @mogwaei who tagged me for this game. Thanks to you two! ❤ It's been a please reading your posts.

And now: Let's dive in!

Share your wallpaper: I'm a very boring person who has her own artwork as a wallpaper on her phone (talking about this study I did last year). XD It reminds me that (every once in a while) I do create something that I actually enjoy without any self-doubt or regret, and I like that.

Last song you listened to: "Eyes Closed" by Ed Sheeran. I'm a very basic person, lol.

Currently reading: Let me check Goodreads real quick... Yeah, I'm reading far too many books at the same time again. So here's the top 3 of books I'm reading and enjoying the most atm:

The Blacktongue Thief by Christopher Buehlman

Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir

There's also a bunch of fanfic I need to catch up on but my mind has been all over the place.

Last move: "Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves". My P&P podcast party had been invited to a preview 2 weeks ago and we had a fun time watching that movie.

Craving: Time off. I've been working non-stop for the past 8 months or so (with Christmas being the only exception) and I'm feeling super drained right now. Luckily, there are a few short trips coming up in April and July, so there is that!

What are you wearing right now: Basic black jeans and a white knitted sweater. It's spring but it's still flipping cold in my apartment. Ooph!

How tall are you: 168 cm or 5'5 feet (I guess?)

Piercings: Just the two for my earrings. As I said, I'm *very* basic. :')

Tattoos: Currently I got two but I plan on getting more later this year. Gotta save up some money first.

Glasses? Contacts? I got 3 different glasses (transparent, gold and brown frames) and contacts because I like to switch things up.

Last drink: I'm currently having some coffee with oat milk aka The breakfast of Champions. Or so I keep telling myself XD

Last thing you ate: Chicken wrap with lots of cheese. It was amazing.

Favorite color: My taste in color(s) shifts constantly but I'm currently obsessed with green in various tones. I keep getting back to like a warmer green because it makes me feel very cozy. But I also adore a good color combo of orange and violet/lilac or yellow and dark blue. It depends on my mood.

Current obsession: Truth be told, because of the current state of my mental health, I have a hard time being obsessed about anything. It's not like I can't enjoy things (I know that that feels like and I don't want to get back to *those days*) but there's not hyperfixation that lives rent-free in my head. And you know what? It feels terrible! I miss the feeling of being utterly obsessed about something. I crave that level of excitement, honestly!

Unrelated Obsession: Okay, I guess this means non-fandom obsessions. I do have one of those! A short while back, I read a book by the title "Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World" which was fascinating. I loved that it was not Euro-centric and instead focussed on the achievements of Genghis and his successors. I've been gobbling media with the same or similiar topics – including finally playing "Ghost of Tsushima" which send me reading up on the Mongol invasion of Japan. It's been an intriguing ride!

Any pets: I'm too allergic to have cats, dogs, and other animals and I hate it. I want a little doggo so badly... 💔

Do you have a crush on anyone: IRL? Not anymore. I used to have a crush for most of last year but since he started ghosting me a few months back, I decided to focus my attention elsewhere. I'm *done* with dating and have been for the past couple of years. As for fictional characters... I have to go with Solas, although (as I mentioned) my excitement has died down somewhat. I still love that boy to death but I'm not as obsessed as I used to be.

Favorite fictional character: How dare you make me chose one?! I have a trillion fave characters and they're all precious to me ;_; No, I will not pick one because I truly can't!

The last place you traveled: I went to Cologne, my hometown, three weeks ago, but I assume that doesn't count as traveling. I think my last real vacation was in 2019 when I travelled to the Leipzig Book Fair. Oh my... 😅 (And I was wondering why I felt so drained all the time, lol. Dang... what a reality check. This hurts!).

That's it! Hope you enjoyed the read :3

Time to forward some tags. As always, please feel free to join in or ignore the tag: @serial-chillr @faerieavalon @thebookworm0001 @ohmypawsandwhiskers @pikapeppa @oxygenforthewicked @fiadhaisteach @noire-pandora @ellie-effie. Sending all of you lots of love. I hope you're doing great!

Until next time, lovelies! <3

[shadowdaddies]

Hey! Can I ask a few questions? Imma ask my every fav author these.

1. How long have you been Writing?

2. Are you planning to make a profession out of this or just doing it for fun?

3. Who or which character do you prefer to write more for?

4. What do you do when you're out of ideas?

5. Lastly, Will plz give an advice for the young writers out that.

Hi lovely! Of course you can ask, I’m happy to answer whatever questions you have. (and thank you I’m so flattered)💜

1. I majored in film/TV production in college and I work in TV and act currently, so I’ve been writing in script format and developing characters for nearly 9 years now.

In regard to writing in fiction/narrative writing style, I started about 4 months ago with this blog!🥰

2. I would love to write for a living. I’m not sure what form it would be in (screenwriting, books, acting) but it is my dream. I never thought about writing a book before I took up this blog as a hobby, but I’ve realized that I would love to do that one day (but I think I need some more practice and a good idea first).

3. I love to switch it up! I honestly get bored writing for the same character too much, so I appreciate the variety of character requests that I get. I will say that I enjoy writing for characters that I didn’t love prior to writing them. I take an actor’s approach to character writing, so I love getting inside the head of a character that I don’t like, learning why they think that way, and finding things about them that I do love. (wow that was a lot, I hope it makes sense lol)

4. To quote The Beatles, “I get by with a little help from my friends!”

I enjoy collaborating with other people, talking to both creative and non-creative types about my thoughts. Friends and family can spur new ideas through conversation.

Another route is writing out a thought-train. So if you have a small idea, or a character… any starting point, just write it down and then think of one thing to add to it. For example, let’s say I want to write about Azriel from ACOTAR but don’t know what. Think about Azriel, write his features, his mannerisms, what you think he does in a day, who he interacts with, how he feels about them, etc. Usually an idea for a scenario will come from that, and it’s easier to build from there.

5. Write. Read and write. Accept constructive criticism, and practice. I think that writing is just a skill that takes time to learn and develop, and you never stop learning. You’ll come up with new ideas, your writing style may change and grow as you do, but never give up, never stop asking questions, never stop being curious.

The world needs your voice and your art. Know that. You have a life, a vision, a perspective that no one else has, and that makes your ideas and stories worth sharing.

I hope that this was helpful. I know my process is pretty untraditional, so please feel free to ask any other questions or for clarification.💜

[english-ext-2]

Hey,

I have just begun the EE2 course and was wondering a few things. I am quite nervous that if I choose a topic that has been slightly explored in the past it will count as plagiarism – this is making me hesitant to read past major works in case I subconsciously remember them and unintentionally base my idea off of them. What do you think I should do about this? Is there a way to discover ideas without ‘copying’?

Also btw, this blog has been my go to for all things EE2, so thanks so much!

************

There’s a tumblr text post somewhere out in the blue wilds that says this much better than I ever could, but basically: nothing is original. Pretty much every text created is in conversation with another text (with a dozen other texts!) whether consciously or subconsciously. The simple fact of your humanity is that you exist in connection to other people, and they influence you just as you influence them. The only truly original thing is you. Because no other version of you is going to exist. What you think about something, and how you express that, is unique to you. You and a friend can read the same book but have different opinions. Even if you both enjoyed it, you likely enjoyed it in different ways. 

The thing about EE2 is that it’s a course where you’re encouraged to read widely, to take what’s been done before and synthesise something new and interesting from it - something that’s of you, from you. I absolutely encourage you to read past MWs to see what past students have explored, and how they explored them. Any risk of “copying” their work is outweighed by the knowledge you gain of what they’ve done. They could even inspire you; maybe there are gaps in the way someone addressed a topic, and you want to fill those gaps in. 

Plagiarism is very specifically taking someone else’s work and claiming it as your own, without attribution or credit to the original author(s). It’s a deliberate act born from desperation or malice. Given the fact of you expressing your concern, I don’t think you’re at risk of being accused of plagiarism. EE2 is very much about acknowledging your influences. As long as you do that, you’re set. 

For the final word on originality, I refer you to the NESA FAQs and their response to “What do the marking guidelines mean by ‘originality’? How does a student demonstrate original work?”

‘Originality’ refers to the insights and exploration of form presented in the work – for example, offering a fresh and engaging perspective on a concept or text that may have been previously explored by other composers in an appropriate medium for the intended audience and purpose.

When it comes to “discovering” ideas, I can’t emphasise enough how important it is to choose something you personally like. It doesn’t matter if you’ve heard the markers like or dislike certain topics. You’re going to be working on your MW for at least 9 months. It can’t be about something you barely tolerate, because you’ll lose steam quickly. You will 100% run into walls. When those moments come, you need that latent passion/interest to fall back on.

Tbh I think the best thing to do is actively consume. Read. Watch. Listen. Consume all the texts (fiction and non-fiction, books, magazines, websites, movies, short stories, podcasts, videos, academic articles, newspapers, essays etc. to the heat death of the universe) you can get your hands on. And when I say actively, I mean that you have your brain switched on. What did you like or dislike about a text? Why did it succeed or fail for you? What did the author do that was effective or ineffective? Maybe two authors wrote on the same topic but you liked only one version. Why is that? Compare and contrast. Students often get so caught up in the creating part that they leave the reading part by the wayside. To be a good author, you need to read. The more you read, the more informed a view you’re able to form, and the more nuanced and authentic your idea will be.

[subterranean-heartsick-blues]

Floating Hotel by Grace Curtis book review

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

You're gonna fly away / Glad you're goin' my way (Cruisin’ – Smokey Robinson).

Hi there, long time no see! Or at least if feels that way because I’m realizing that I've probably forgotten how to read due to the fact that my weekend has been entirely consumed by Dragon Age: The Veilguard (#ad #sponsored)! It’s wild because the game is currently being “review bombed” (meaning randos leaving purposefully bad reviews so the average rating goes real low to the floor) because the angriest dudes on the planet think the game is too “woke.” There’s a non-binary character in the game, and now apparently the weirdest guy you know feels the need to spend all of his time going on YouTube and yelling at people for playing the game? Man, that’s sad. It’s also sad because I can see how this poisoned mindset is starting to affect the opinions of the people who were looking forward to the game! They’ll be saying shit like “Yeah sure, the game might be too woke, but if you can ignore that, then it’s actually, maybe, kind of, sort of… fun!” as if that weren't the most pathetically flaccid way of saying, “I think I like it, but I need other people to tell me what to think, so I don’t know yet!” So~oo brave! Anyway, what’s my point? I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to talk about Dragon Age: The Veilguard because I like it and it’s fun (#ad #sponsored), but also, it’s important to note that I’m enjoying the game because it’s woke, not despite it. Got to "stay woke," like the song said. Yeah well, I figured I’d take a break from being exposed to all of these manufactured “culture wars” and get back into my favorite pastime of reading! And the best thing about reading is that it’s solitary. Aaah peace and quiet, so nice! Taking a break from playing my woke fantasy to read a woke Sci-fi. Okay, I’ll stop saying “woke” now, because it doesn’t even sound like a real word anymore. What I’m getting at is that it’s interesting how different the landscapes are for different forms of expressions, as in the gaming world, people can’t even handle when there are gay people or people of color in their precious video game, while in literature, the sheer diversity of the story and the characters that inhabit the Floating Hotel, this book, are not only a few of its greatest strengths, but also its biggest selling points. But here’s the thing, I’m a huge fan of Science Fiction… as long as it’s not in book form. I love the Alien movies (yes, even Alien: Covenant), Mass Effect, Metroid, Futurama, hell, I even liked Starfield! But whenever I get a craving for a Sci-Fi book, my mind immediately imagines something like an Enders Game and any interest I might have had shrivels up like a pumpkin on November 3rd. I don’t know why, I really don’t. Unfortunately, for the most part, I think this book was mostly the same in that area. You know how when you’re showing your friend your favorite movie and they’re kind of disinterested and they keep missing all the big plot revelations because they keep glancing at their phones? Well, I was that friend for a good chunk of this book. I’m the problem! But hey, I didn’t give up on it, that’s got to count for something, right?

Nonetheless, let me see if I can talk myself into liking this book. My main problem here was the fact that because we switch up the POV characters every chapter, it was kind of hard for me to grasp what was going on a lot of the time. It’s like Let it Snow all over again! The first story being good, the John Green one being mid, and then the third story being a blight on literature as a whole! Too varying for my tastes. Like, there were certain story-lines in Floating Hotel that I wanted to learn more about (like the alien one), only for the chapter to end and we’d move on to the boring spy story. Ugh. But at least this book had one author, so the writing stayed consistently fantastic throughout. Besides, here’s the thing, I wanted to like Floating Hotel, and sometimes when you pretend to like something for long enough, you actually end up liking it for real. And eventually that’s what happened here. Yay! Belated synopsis time? Okay. The basic story is that we follow the titular floating hotel, the Grand Abeona; a remnant of past human explorative optimism that now serves more as an allegory of one of those shitty cruise tickets you’d win while gambling. But what makes this specific hotel special isn’t that it can travel to infinity and beyond, but because of the interesting people that always seem to inhabit the hotel at any given time. From what I can understand, the story is sometimes about a jewel heist, a spy mission, a hidden resistance group fighting against an oppressive empire, and an “ice-breaker” work activity accidentally uncovering aliens trying to communicate with us. If this whole thing sounds like I’m literally piecing it together right now, it’s because I am. Ha ha! Damn, I can’t spark-notes this one. Can somebody go out and read this book real quick and make a clickbait YouTube video explaining beat-by-beat exactly what was going on and maybe a rundown of the themes? Thanks in advance! Anyway, sorry for ranting about video games for… oh my… this entire review, but I do think there’s an interesting comparison to be made between grifters who make their living spreading misery and organizing hate mobs against any work of art with even a dash of queerness and how Floating Hotel depicts its universe. In the story, society has progressed to the point where people can literally travel among the stars as a luxury, and yet nothing has really changed all that much. I mean, everything is still so fucked. Underneath all the quirkiness, there's something broken here. It’s really sad. And yet, I think there’s something deeply moving and deeply melancholic how this book portrays a found family of outcasts, queer or otherwise, who decided to create their own home carved out of the stars. Sounds familiar, huh? It did to me. I guess in some ways, we all need to find our own floating hotel somewhere out there. …Hey, it worked! I like this book now!!

“An Empire is a tricky thing to dismantle.”