#NOT me posting yet another image of origins romances standing in a line...

[maturiin]

DRAGON AGE ORIGINS

[wingsfreedom]

The Gladiator 300th Chapter Celebration Event

I went off the model in order to write a post that can better express my feelings. (So sorry in advance to @kigozula)

What make you stick to the story so far? I'll start with shorter lines then longer ones.

It's based on the original but it doesn't try imitate it: instead the work has it's own identity. And yet it remains one of, if not the most faithful, attentive and respectful adaption of canon I've seen. Two birds with one stone.

It's so satisfyingly coherent, consistent and connected.

It follows reason and isn't too much over the top.

It's very creative with the concepts and has unexpected plot twists that keep me invested.

The events that spread through the story make for an engaging world-buliding and make the universe feels alive.

The author doesn't hate-write the characters they dislike in canon which was a pleasant surprise to see these characters being handled with care.

Since this deserves it's own point again: for once, Zuko is a likable character.

The love between the romantic couples is real and not something left for interpretation.

I never expected to find great battle scenes so that was another pleasant surprise and left me overwhelmed with excitement.

Sokka/Azula, how their bond affects them and how they affect the world around them is the heart that leads the story. In other words, the world doesn't revolve around them, instead they lead the world.

I don't know how to explain it and I may not have payed enough attention to everything but I like the story's take on morality. Bad deeds aren't overlooked, there are consequences, someone can be human is 100% a terrible person, a good person can be human and yet have darkness in their souls. I like the complexity.

I'm not an expert on this topic to say the story's take on slavery was handled with the care necessary but I can see it's being handled seriously and I really appreciated it wasn't swapped under the rug as an edgy setup for romance.

The story takes friendships seriously! It doesn't look down on friendship or consider it a bond not worth developing which is really wholesome.

I like Azula's side of the story in Part 3, maybe I have word it better in the review but I like how it's about not giving up against the extremely difficult odds and finding light and warmth in the darkest times -- I was naturally driven towards the source of that light and warmth which was in Azula's room and Sokka's small group.

It treats women's issues pretty well imo; love, pregnancy, marriage, domestic problems, controlling fathers who care about their image more than their own daughters -- they're not downplayed and the abusers face consequences.

The character writing make me emotionally invested in the characters even in the ones I'm not actively interested in but I still enjoy reading about them all the same (even in small scenes like that of Longshot, the way he spoke give him personality, and Ursa's parents were funny too).

I appreciate how the dark topics were handled tastefully (unlike GoT or Overlord) -- while some scenes make me feel greatly disturbed, the narrative doesn't spend great lengths to make you feel sick and this precisely what make them more effective or impactful (the public executions, the pregnancy and abortion discussions, the examination and the one night stand...ect, I felt disturbed even while listing these).

ATLA has my favorite power system in all of fiction because of the realistic martial arts combined with the chakras/wheels system of yoga... and so I enjoyed the expansion here by the introduction of the gold fire, fire resonance, special fire forging metal give it special properties, adding mysterious lightbending and the corruption system (or casting a shadow over the elements)

And, of course, I can't neglect the reason I started this story for: Azula. This is my favorite take on her character so far that I won't even bother with anything else at this point (and because I'm pretty much done with this franchise/fandom as well)

Original characters

Rei: I like how her character is about creating a meaningful life out seemingly meaningless existence or rather start

Shaofeng: I just appreciate the fact that this is the first time I read about a villain who managed to be more irredeemable than Ozai himself yet an effective element in the story. We haven't seen what is his true deal yet but I'm looking forward to uncover his mystery.

Seezu: I like the gloomy aesthetics and the power set (it's very unique, though morbid). It was also funny how his cleaning skills were better than his assassination skills (in FLS arc at least). And he's surprisingly, weirdly endearing in a sense too, not gonna lie. I hope that doesn't change.

The Quiz:

• Name of the first Gladiator Sokka fought against? Spawn of Volcano (I still remember the funny exchange: Chan "oh no my Spawn's in trouble" Azula "why do you call him your spawn? Is he your child or something" still makes me laugh

• How many years are Azula and Sokka a couple now? 5 or 6 years (since Azula picked Sokka as her gladiator)

• Which character found out about Azula and Sokka’s secret relationship first? Toph (edit: and Rui Shi!! But since he didn't have a name yet back then it was so easy for him to slip lol)

• Which character felt something might be going on/will be going on between Sokka and Azula from the beginning? Piandao and Lo & Li

• What’s the name of Ozai’s first love? Ozai's first, Ursa's second

• What was the first Gladiator event Azula and Sokka took part in? The Fire Fountain City event when Sokka knocked Ozai's statue over.

• How often did the Blue Wolf fight in the Slate? Two times. Against the second-ranked gladiator and against Yang's wife.

• Who would have almost been the potential future prince? 🤔 there have been 4 princes already plus Zhao currently which make them 5. So do you mean a person unrelated to the fire royals? Any potential suitor for Azula. Kuan the Obnoxious (affectionate), Hahn the Obnoxious (derogatory), Aonu sponsor of the second-ranked gladiator and Chan.

• How old was Aang when he was forced to freeze himself and Appa? This is a good question. I think it must have been stated somewhere in the South Pole chapters which I wasn't as interested in them as I was in Sokkla's side of the story but after some pondering my guess would be 18 years old.

Anyway, there isn't always much I can say about a fanfiction but I think Seyary is a great story teller and I wish a future with more accomplishments for her.

[neoculturetravesty]

We met in online class - Part 4

Image taken from here. Originally had this image in mind but Tumblr won’t let me upload it. 

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, fluff, angst, maybe humor???? Warnings: Strong language Word Count: 4.3k

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | You are on Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Last Part

A/N: Happy Easter to all who celebrate it!

It’s funny how quickly people form habits without really meaning to. You don’t realize you have a new favorite word till someone points out you’ve been using it so much. You don’t realize you’re addicted to caffeine till you get headaches from withdrawals. You don’t realize you can’t live without dessert till the sugar crash hits. And in the same way, Renjun didn’t realize he had gotten used to your company till he’s waiting outside your lecture hall with an almost expectant inclination to see you. 

A lot of it had to do with who you were as a person. You had pretty much infiltrated Renjun’s life, even though he still kept you at an arm’s distance. One day, he had walked into the library and found you with Jaemin, while the two of you had your heads together over a laptop and a huge gift basket in the making on the table. Jaemin wasn’t the kind of person who invited a lot of new people into his life; so he must have really trusted you because it wasn’t the last time Renjun saw the two of you together. 

But worse than Jaemin was Donghyuck. Renjun was pretty sure that since you’d asked him out, you had probably hung out more with Donghyuck than with him. Almost as if seeing Renjun was just an excuse for you to hang out with him, as you had often joked. It was as if the two of you were kindred spirits, long lost best friends who had finally found one another. Donghyuck would invite you everywhere, get up to no good with you in tow; and before Renjun knew it, the two of you were even planning parties together. Neither Donghyuck nor you needed Renjun as an excuse to hang out with one another anymore, and it amused him. A part of him wondered if Donghyuck was playing along to help his bigger cause. But his friend always looked so genuinely happy around you that any ulterior motive he might have seemed to have been forgotten. 

“Why can’t the sun always be like this?” you said as you laid on the grass using your backpack as a pillow. Your hand was reaching out over your face, your fingers wiggling as you played with shadows.

While you soaked in the sun, Renjun chose to sit under the shade of a tree, sketching away in his book, completing his assignment before his next class.

“You wouldn’t appreciate it as much if it were always like this.” Renjun replies, not looking away from his work. He much preferred paint over charcoal, but he had to admit that the scratching sounds it made against the grains of paper--coupled with the chirping of birds and gentle ruffling of leaves around him--was really relaxing. As was your company.

“Hmm. But it’s still nice to see it without fine dust couture. I like seeing it fully in the nude.” you say, a soft, funny smile on your face while your eyelashes cast shadows on your cheeks.

“Pervert.” Renjun accuses, smiling as he drew. It just makes you laugh and lay sideways to face him. You prop up your head on your hand.

“I’m the sun, Huang Renjun. Now draw me like one of your French girls.” you say in a comical voice and Renjun actually laughs without reservation. 

“Do you have any more classes?” he asks, fixing his black and gold rimmed glasses over his nose.

“Nope. I’m done for the day. Yeri’s supposed to pick me up, so I’m just waiting for her call.” you say, rolling onto your back once more, resuming your dance with the shadows.

Renjun hums a reply as he sketches, but really, he’s thinking that he hadn’t formally met Yeri. At least not yet. He had just had two very awkward run-ins with her the couple of times he had been to your apartment. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been to your place since that last time. And you had never been to his place at all. 

It wasn’t on accident, though. All of it had been by Renjun’s really convoluted design. He had met a few of your friends on campus in the passing, sure. But you were more a part of his life that he was yours. That is exactly what Renjun had planned. Lately, however, that plan seemed to be fading away into the ether. Slowly but surely dispersing from memory till it was more or less abandoned. 

Because Renjun did not realize that he had adopted you like a habit. Any time he saw a witty meme, he had to send it your way because you would text back with an equally witty reply that scratched Renjun’s intellectual itch. Any time Jisung would bring home a baguette, he would take a picture for you with a caption like ‘Francophile life going strong’. The two of you had even developed a silly game where you would look at different marketing taglines and wonder if it would still work to sell condoms. 

‘Nike. Just do it.’ Renjun had once texted.

‘That is a low hanging fruit, Huang Renjun.’ you had replied.

‘Okay, true. But how about Imax: Thing big.’ he had texted back.

‘Hmm, almost but not quite. I need something stronger.’

‘BMW: Designed for driving pleasure.’ he had actually found himself scrolling through a long list of taglines while his assignment laid forgotten.

‘Oof. Now you’ve found the sweet spot. Keep going.’ Renjun had smiled at your reply and had found himself hurriedly looking for something better.

‘Geico: So easy, a caveman could do it.’ 

‘Mmm, didn’t think you were a kinky boy, Huang Renjun. Go on…”

Renjun had actually laughed out loud, making Jisung look up at him quizzically and replied ‘1010 Wins: you give us 22 minutes, we’ll give you the world.’

‘Yessss! Right there, right there!’

Renjun hadn’t even realized he was grinning wide and standing up from his desk, a list of taglines open both on his laptop and his phone while he scrolled to find the perfect response that would make you happy. ‘Rice Krispies: Snap! Crackle! Pop!’

‘So close, so close, I am almost there!’

‘Washington Post: Democracy dies in darkness.’

‘THAT’S IT, THAT DID IT, THAT HIT THE SPOT!’

Renjun had actually belly laughed at the entire conversation. He didn’t remember the last time he had laughed this way because even Jisung was looking at him with an amused smile, asking “What’s so funny?”

So yes, Renjun had adopted you like a habit. But it wasn’t just through text. When you weren’t the one waiting for him on campus with a couple of cups of coffee in hand, he found he would go looking for you. You would spend all your free time together, just like this. He would find himself missing you on days he didn’t get to see you. He found himself disappointed when you didn’t have time for him because you and Donghyuck were on a very important mission or you had to meet your friends or you had extra work that was demanding your attention. You had just inserted yourself in his life in such a manner that Renjun didn’t even notice.

Perhaps you had nothing to do with it, but Renjun’s life had been treating him pretty well, too. Maybe he was more inspired these days, because his work was getting better and his professors were noticing. His painting instructor had held him back after class one day and offered him an internship at his studio. While it wasn’t huge, it was enough that Renjun had thrown his fist in the air in celebration as soon as he had left class. And you were the first person he texted and he was glad he did because you had texted back a freakout that made him grin like an idiot. You had come to see him as soon as your own class had ended and you had flung yourself in his arms and had jumped around excitedly before dragging him along so you could buy him an artist’s apron as a present. 

“Do you have any more classes?” you ask him as you stare at the evening sun through your fingers.

Renjun’s about to reply when he is interrupted by the sound of your phone buzzing in your pocket. You fish it out and sit up, telling Renjun “Hold on…” before answering it. “Are you here, Yeri?” 

Renjun goes back to scratching away in his pad, thinking. Maybe he should introduce himself now when Yeri comes to pick you. But what would he say? ‘Hi, I’m Y/N’s friend?’ Everyone on campus knew that the two of you weren’t exactly just friends. It was thanks to your stunt during that one online class, where he’d met you. ‘Hi, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend?’ But he wasn’t that, either. While the two of you had become pretty comfortable in each other’s company, you hadn’t really done anything, or had any serious talk about what you were. You two always found yourself tiptoeing “the line”. Actually, no. It was Renjun that tiptoed that line. After his two failed attempts to kiss you, the conversation had just not taken that turn ever again. You two hadn’t leveled up on the PDA front, either. Sure, you had cuddled into him in the back of the cab that one night, and he had half-carried you to your apartment till Yeri took you from the doorstep. But you didn’t seem to remember any of it, so it was basically back to square one. Sure, you had hugged him in joy when he had gotten the internship, but did it really count when the two of you hadn’t even held hands yet? Aside from the innuendo-filled condom tagline talk, the two of you hadn’t really done anything that would constitute as… something a couple might do.

“Okay, but how long would it take?” you’re saying into the phone, a gentle crease growing between your eyebrows. Whatever you heard back must have been distasteful because you grimace. “Okayyyy, Yeri, I’m hanging up now!” you say pointedly and groan, laying back into the grass.

Renjun chuckles “All good?”

“Yeri has brought home a ‘distraction’.” you say, making air quotes, and a face like you’ve tasted something sour. “I’m banished from my own home for the evening.”

Renjun looks up. 

He thinks about his next words carefully. “Um… what are you gonna do?”

You groan once more and say “I’m probably going to crash at Lia’s till my exile is over. So inconvenient!”

“You could come over to mine.”

Renjun didn’t know how it happened, how he found the courage to think it and then actually say it out loud, but now there’s no going back because the two of you are walking down the hallway to his place. He doesn’t know why, but his throat is a little dry and he peeks over his shoulder to see that you seem a bit nervous as well. He takes a deep breath and decides to break the tension.

“Here we are.” He says as he punches in the code. He holds the door open “Hello, MTV. Welcome to my crib.”

It works because it makes you smile. “So, this is where the magic happens.”

“Mhmm, but I hope to God my roommates have at least attempted to clean it up some, because I did text them a head’s up.”

“Lead the way, Huang Renjun.” you say and he does. He walks you into his living room where Jisung is currently sitting, playing video games. The smell of something delicious makes his head turn towards the kitchen where he finds Jaemin.

“Hey, Y/N!” he calls out then wipes his hands on a towel before coming in to give you a hug. 

“Hi, Y/N!” Jisung says without looking up.

Renjun is amused and a little confused. Perhaps you and Jaemin got even closer while he wasn’t noticing, but Jisung? When had the two of you met? By the looks of it, Jisung was comfortable enough with you that he wasn’t even minding his manners and greeting you properly. Probably because he was too busy dwindling his thumbs on his controller furiously. 

“Damn, Jisung, you’re really going at it, huh?” you say to him easily.

“Mhmm. I would’ve been doing even better if Jaemin hadn’t interrupted and kicked me out of my own room because you were coming over.”

There is a two second silence before Jisung’s audience of three begins talking at the same time.

“Jisung!” Renjun yelps, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, no, we aren’t going to like… do anything--” you find yourself explaining at the same time, face heating up.

“Jisungieeee!” Jaemin also sings out to scold, yet he grins as he mock-chokes the boy.

“You are so dead.” Renjun gives the back of Jisung’s head a death stare.

“Nooo, our Jisungie means well, don’t you, Jisungie?” Jaemin coos while Jisung dodges his kisses.

Renjun shakes his head and places a hand to your arm to guide you along. “Let’s go.”

“I’ve made food if you crazy kids get hungry!” Jaemin calls after you and it’s the most animated he’s been in a while.

His friends being, well, his friends was probably worth it because Renjun is feeling a lot better as he brings you into his room. It had been a while since he had brought a girl over and looking about, he can tell that his mates did a good job at hastily cleaning it. 

“Damn, Huang Renjun. You’re a clean boy.” you’re saying as you look about. “I thought you’d be the artfully messy type.”

Renjun grins as he runs his fingers through his hair. “We can mess it up together if you’d like.” But Renjun mentally smacks himself in the head as soon as the words leave his mouth because you’ve looked up at him and quickly looked away, muttering something awkwardly.

“I… I didn’t mean that. I just meant with like, paint and, like…” Renjun blows air out of his mouth and then your eyes meet. Before you know it, you both are giggling at each other because the awkwardness is probably making you a bit delirious. 

Renjun watches as you take a deep breath to stop the giggles and turn to start looking around. “Oooh. Mr. Fancypants is a tea connoisseur.” you say as you run your hands over his teabag display box. 

Renjun chuckles “Do you want me to make you some?”

“Sure. Let’s have tea, Mr. Fancypants.” you take a seat on his wheelie chair and your eyes go to the artist’s apron you had bought him that is currently hanging on an easel. You give it a fond smile.

“What flavor would you like?” Renjun asks as he puts the kettle on and sets up two mugs.

“Umm… I don’t know tea. I’m a coffee drinker.” you reply, your fingers tracing over the pictures he had at his desk.

“I’ll make you a simple chamomile, then. I’ve seen you and Jaemin enabling each other’s coffee habits and I don’t approve.” he knots his eyebrows.

“Oh no, no, no. Jaemin is on a different level. I took a sip of his coffee by mistake once and my entire life flashed before my eyes. I don’t know if that boy drinks coffee or straight up cocaine.”

Renjun bites his smile because he’s still holding onto the look of disapproval. “That would explain the random spikes and falls in his energy.” he says as he pours out the water in the mugs and seeps the teabags. “Here you go.” he sets your mug on the desk and takes a seat on his bed.

You take a sip “So, which one is your bunk?”

“Top.” Renjun also wants to make an innuendo but he stops himself because the awkwardness surrounding the fact that you and him are alone in his room has only just subsided with the tea.

“Isn’t the bottom bunk more comfortable?” you muse as you drink. You seem to be enjoying your tea because you haven’t set it aside yet.

“Of course it is. It’s why Jisung has it.” he comments, cocking his eyebrow. “And I sleep here on this bed.” He pats where he’s sat.

You grin as you sip then quickly wipe your chin as some tea spills through your smile. “Where do you keep all your paintings?”

“In the studio. On that top bunk. Behind that door. At my grandma’s house.” he lists off on his fingers.

“Why behind the door? If I had your talent, I’d basically cover every bit of my wall in my art. Like the most egomaniacal artist in the world.” you fantasize, looking up at the ceiling.

Renjun chuckles. “I kinda like my space to be a bit cleaner, you know? Because I’m always around art. It kinda helps with my imagination, having a clean environment. It’s almost like a clean canvas.”

“Interesting.” you’ve said and it sounds like you genuinely mean it. “It’s still a bit sad. All the work you’ve created should have a home. It shouldn't be hidden away behind doors or on top bunks.”

“You can give some of them a home if you’d like. If you have space, I mean.” Renjun gives you a fond look. You haven’t replied but you’ve set your mug down and looked at him with a very tender look in your eyes. You stand up.

“I wanna see your bed.”

Renjun grins. “Be my guest.”

“Ooooh.” you make an excited squeal, almost like you're about to enter Dexter’s Laboratory. You plop yourself on it and bounce up and down, almost as if to check the pliability of it.

“So this is where the magic happens.” you giggle and then Renjun finds your gaze moving to a picture frame on his headboard. “Is that your grandma?”

“It is.” Renjun smiles as he watches you pick your feet up and make yourself comfortable.

“She looks exactly like you.” you say, looking back at him with an affectionate look.

“A lot of people say that. People in school used to think I’m adopted because I looked nothing like my parents.” Renjun scoots back to sit next to you.

“Are you close to your parents?” you ask gently, looking at him.

Renjun looks away. 

The two of you hadn’t had that many deep conversations. And anytime you did, he had found a way around it so that nothing was shared, nothing was learnt. 

But no one had ever asked him that… not in so many words. He finds himself shrugging and responding before he can stop himself. “Nah. They don’t even talk to me. They’ve never really cared.”

“How do you know that, Renjun?” you’re asking him in a very soft voice. The kind of voice that has Renjun sharing more than he wants.

“They pretty much abandoned me very young,” Renjun laughs ironically. “They would fight all the time, you know? Like, they really would go at each other one moment then make up the next moment. They kind of forgot they had a son.” Renjun finds himself saying while his eyes fixate on a loose thread on Jisung’s bedsheet. He realizes he’s warm and comfortable and that’s when he notices that you’ve put an arm around him.

“That must have been so hard, to go through that.” you’re speaking to him so softly and your head and your body is angled towards him, giving him all your attention while Renjun talks into the abyss. 

“They were just like… kinda dysfunctional, you know? They fought like crazy and I had to hide away so I wouldn’t hear them. And then the next day, they’d be in each other’s arms like nothing happened. They would pretend like everything was all right. Like the trauma they gave me meant nothing.”

You’re not speaking anymore, only listening. Your hand around him has started to gently stroke his arm. Your other hand softly combs through his hair.

“It was such a vicious cycle and they wouldn’t stop. I think they were kinda addicted to it. They would’ve been happy living like that with each other if it weren’t for me.” He had never shared so much with anyone. But now that he had started, it was difficult to stop.

“Renjun…” you say empathetically and pull him into you. Renjun pauses for a moment, but decides to give in. What did it matter, anyway? He rests his head on your shoulder.

“If it weren’t for my grandma, I wouldn’t even be alive, you know? She saved me from all of that and took me in. She raised me. It wasn’t even her responsibility, but she raised me.”

You are holding him to you and soothingly stroking his hair when you say “Then I think your grandma is the luckiest person in this world. Because she got to see you grow up to be such a good man.”

Renjun feels a lump in his throat grow and before he knows it, there are tears stinging in his eyes. You turn your head and press a kiss into his temple and slowly rock him. It was odd, being here like this, because Renjun realizes that this was the first time you had kissed him. But more than anything else, it was the first time someone had held him like this. 

The last time he remembered being held was probably when he was a child, and it had been his grandma. No one since had held him in their arms to listen to him, to comfort him, to love him without any conditions. No one had tried to take his pain away without wanting something in return. The thought puts more tears in his eyes and he finds himself leaning his weight into you. 

He allows you to hold him and comfort him and coo at him. You’re speaking to him gently but Renjun isn’t hearing your words. He’s only concentrating on the soothing sound of your voice and how melodic it is. He liked hearing you talk. He’s concentrating on how you’re rocking him, and how the movement is slowly lulling him. He liked how warm and soft you were and how protective your arms were. He liked the smell of chamomile on your breath. Had you enjoyed chamomile? He thought you had. Maybe you would’ve enjoyed a different flavor more. Renjun decides he should make you an Earl Grey next time; it would probably be better suited to your caffeine tastes. Maybe you wouldn’t like Earl Grey as much either, but it would be nice to discover that bit about you. He’d make you try all the flavors till he learnt which one your favorite was. 

“How come I never saw your cat?” He asks sleepily after you’ve been quiet for a while.

“Hmm?” you ask, confused.

“Your cat. Galbi. How come I didn’t see him when I came over?” Renjun can feel your smile against his temple.

“Oh. Yeri had dropped him over at the vet’s that day. Do you want to meet him?” you ask him.

“Yeah, it would be nice to meet him.” Renjun says and brings an arm up to cuddle closer into you.

“Okay. Next time you come over, you can meet him… shoulder gangster Renjun.” you’re only whispering at him now as you tease him.

“Mmm.” is the only reply Renjun can manage as he chuckles lazily. He didn’t even feel like killing Donghyuck for telling you about that because he feels so good like this, in your arms. Renjun hasn’t even noticed that you’ve laid him down till he realizes how horizontal he is.

It felt nice. Being held by someone, being protected by someone, being comforted by someone. Your hands haven’t stopped soothing him for a single moment ever since they started. Renjun hadn’t even noticed that you’d put the covers on him. Or that you were kissing the top of his head till he feels the warmth. It all felt so nice. He barely registers that your shirt is wet from his tears. All he feels are the relaxing patterns you’re drawing onto his skin. It’s the last thing he feels as he drifts off. And though you're gone in the morning, Renjun can swear this is the most sound sleep he's slept in many nights. He feels a thousand times lighter, like someone had lifted a heavy weight off of his chest and he was finally breathing fully. 

He smiles as he grabs his phone and sees your name right on the top of his notification list. He reads your message:

‘Hey, shoulder gangster. Sorry I left without telling you but you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you. I wanted to ask you something AND YOU CAN TOTALLY SAY NO. But my brother’s hosting a spring art festival of some sort at my parent’s house this weekend. A lot of his artist friends from his company will be there. Do you maybe wanna come with me?’

And there it was. 

Yes, it was funny how quickly people form habits without really meaning to. And in his new habit, Renjun had forgotten the real reason he was with you in the first place. 

Eyes on the fucking prize, Renjun thinks as his reality comes crashing back on him.

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[couchpotatoaniki]

The books that you posted about really intrigued me. And the books seemed really cool, I was wondering if you have any book recommendations? For any genre.

:0 Someone's asking me about book recs? This has never happened before I'm scared 😂😂 So, I suppose I should warn you that a lot of these are fantasy. Also, thank you for taking an interest 🥺🥺

This is gonna be loooooong, so continue to read more. Also, all the links are for the Goodreads pages so you could read the blurb and reviews if you're interested. Word of warning though, these are all of my opinions, so if they don't work for you--that's okay. Tastes are fickle :))

Also, if you have any book recommendations for me or want to talk about books, then please feel free to pop in my inbox because I LOVE discussing and getting excited about books.

Books that I've already read:

The School for Good and Evil series by Soman Chainani--there are six books in total (seven if you include the handbook), but this was one I read when I was around 13/14. It's kinda like a fairytale retelling, where there are two schools; one for good and the other evil. It has a lot of references to folktales and discusses the divides between good and evil, girls and boys, and young and old. It's a story about self-discovery and I just love the characters--especially their relationships and dynamics with one another. Netflix is actually making a movie about the first book and it's going to come out sometime in 2022. Hopefully they don't screw it up 😔😔

A Thousand Nights by E. K. Johnson--I know this may not be for everyone, but I love this book. There is a sequel that I haven't gotten around to reading, but this one specifically was one I enjoyed quite a bit. It's like a retelling of the folktale One Thousand and One Nights (commonly known as Arabian Nights) but with more a fantasy twist to it. It's slow-paced, but it has so much meaning behind it. It paints such a beautiful picture in your head with both the imagery but also has a subtle feminist strength to it through its deliberate choice of words and description--not to mention it has a very strong feel to the pre-Islamic Middle East setting as compared to other retellings like The Wrath and the Dawn, which is much more suited to be classed as YA than this (by no means is that derogatory to any of the books, but it's just to explain how they're so different despite being based off the same folktale). Just read it, it's honestly amazing.

The Sin Easter's Daughter series by Melinda Salisbury--Okay, funny story, I actually read the second book, The Sleeping Prince, first by accident. A problem I have with a lot series, is something commonly known as second-book syndrome--as in, I'm not particularly a fan of the second book in a trilogy series. Once I realised my mistake and read the first book, The Sin Eater's Daughter, I found that I wasn't as in love with it as I was the second, so I thought that might've been just because of the way I read it. But when I read the reviews, I realised that a lot of other people thought the same as me despite having read it in order; the second one was more loved than the first. Unfortunately, I haven't read the third book yet, but I feel like The Sleeping Prince was enough to put it on this list. Once again, this is fantasy with tones of the Pied Piper in it, and there is so much more I could say, but again it would be more about the second book than the first so I won't spoil it for ya. But just sayin', if you wanted to read the second book as a stand-alone, you can do since I myself kinda figured out what was going on and filled in the gaps by myself. This is probably because the first and second book follow different characters (and I assume it switches in the third book, but again, I haven't read it).

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller--now, this GODSEND of a book is one that I rate highly. It's based off the Iliad (so it's heavy on the Greek mythology), though it follows Patroclus rather than Achilles throughout the whole book. If you don't know anything about the story, then I won't spoil it--just know that I knew the story of the Iliad and was in this state of dread the entire time 'cAUSE THERE'S SO MUCH FORSHADOWING. All I can say is that I love the dynamic between the two guys and the story is so heartbreakingly beautiful. Bless 'em 😔😔 But a friend of mine found the writing a little bit confusing (she still loves it) since you kinda have to read between the lines--it isn't blunt. Also, one word of advise I'd like to give on good stories, and specifically plot twists, is that the shock factor may occur the first time you read it but what makes a good story or plot twist is the way it makes you feel--it should still be positive no matter how many times you re-read it. Shock factor isn't everything, so when I read this there was no shock factor for me (I knew what was going to happen from me previous knowledge) yet this book still kept me gripped onto it. I didn't loose interest--and that's part of the reason why I love it.

Caraval series by Stephanie Garber--I put this on the list because of the progression within the books, despite it being fast-paced. Book one follows one of the two sisters during the Caraval who is accompanied by a guy and the whole description was very magical--kinda alluding to the magic of Legend himself (the Caraval Master). In it, there is mentions of what kind of world it is, but it doesn’t really get explained until book two, which follows the other sister to find out Legend’s real identity for a certain reason that I won’t disclose ‘cause it’s a spoiler. This expands a lot more about how the present came to be as it was and also explains a little more about the background for the major characters. Although I’m in the early chapters of the third book and so can’t really comment on it, all I can say is that so far, it brings the two stories more together than they were before as it switches viewpoints between the sisters; I feel like that’s also why I don’t hate the second book in this trilogy, because the first one seems more like a prequel to set the scene while the second feels like the beginning of the actual story, and the third would be it’s conclusion. Okay, so, fair warning, there is a lot of metaphors which mix senses (for example, describing an action/emotion as a colour/image/taste) and I understand not everyone likes that writing style, which is completely okay; I just happen to like it.

Daughter of the Pirate King series by Tricia Levenseller--the main girl, I feel, is either a love-or-hate character. Personally, I don't particularly mind her, since she's just fun to read. There are parts where she tells you just how awesome she is but can't show you because she would give her act away (she's pretending to be a prisoner on a ship to steel a map) but if it was in any other scenario, I would despise that. I suppose my plus points would be for how she reacts internally to what she's doing, you see the whole process going on in her mind--and it isn't perfect, mind you, but the fact nothing is perfect makes it better. Though I could see why people would think she was annoying or the romance was very fast-paced (I prefer a slow-burn, but I don't mind this either). One thing I will say is that there are two characters (one in particular) that I love the dynamics of. Also, there's pirates. I don't think I need to explain further on that point.

Books I'm in the middle of reading that seem pretty cool so far:

The Cruel Prince by Holly Black--I'm halfway through this book and so far I'm really enjoying it. The dynamic between the main girl and her nemesis is just unlike many enemies-to-lovers I've ever read (including online) because they just hate each other so much. Like, she's not gonna be seduced by him and get into a really toxic relationship where her feelings are being taken advantage of. She's grown into being smart, she's grown into being skilled, she's not a love-struck idiot that makes impulsive, nonsensical choices. There are two more books after this and apparently it gets better and the main characters find some ground to not be toxic (again, not sure since I haven't read it myself). Now, this is probably going to get me a lot of hate, but I'm not a fan of a certain popular YA author who has a very popular book series that involves fae. I find this a much more likeable alternative since the faerie are not humans with superpowers and pointy ears. There is actual description, actual difference between the humans and the fae, different rules they live by, two examples being that humans can't eat fae food otherwise [redacted] and the other being the fae are immortal (the kind that doesn't age, but can be killed). There's consistency in the world building and the characters are not too overpowered--and this itself just set above all the other faerie books I've read thus far.

Lost Boy by Christina Henry--this is a Peter Pan retelling that I'm still in the first half of the book. Not got much to say except for the characters are even at such a point are distinct with each other (I can already tell that Peter Pan is a Psychotic Asshole™). It's very impactful, but be warned, it's dark and violent too. I mean, when I say Peter Pan is a Psychotic Asshole™, I mean it with every fibre of my being. And it is a very good origin story to Captain Hook, who you begin to empathise with quite a bit even early on within the book. I also like a few other books from the same author since she delves quite a bit into dark fantasy and story-retellings which I personally adore, but I feel like this one is a good starting point. Either this, or The Girl in Red which is Red Riding Hood is bi and goes on a murder-spree.

The Archived by V. E. Schwab--I've actually got a couple of this author's books but I decided to put this one on because so far I'm enjoying it so far. The atmosphere of the story is very eerie and it gives beginning-of-a-horror-movie vibes. So far I haven't really gotten into the whole thing with the love interests, but there is some in there. I just really enjoyed the whole worldbuilding, the setting and feel of the story was awesome, the writing was really good, and I love the little anecdotes that are put in between Mac and Da (her grandfather). Though I can see why the switching from tenses would be confusing for some, I just really liked it. Again, not much to say because I haven't gotten too far into the story, but so far, it's pretty great.

Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan--oh boy. Now, this book is one I would recommend so far but it needs to be said that it is hard to read. Not because the writing was bad or the plot was crap--no, the writing is really good and the plot is very interesting. It's hard because of the themes that are being addressed within it. I'm not gonna sugar-coat it, it mentions a LOT of sexual harassment, kidnapping, lack-of consent. However, although there are a few books in which this is romanticised, this is definitely NOT one of them. In fact, you feel really bad for the main character and I even felt like taking a break to come to terms with what was being said or described, but this is a story where the main girl does what she can to fight against it. Usually, I skip past the author's notes at the beginning but lucky I read this one because it gave me an understanding of why this was written--the author had been through a similar situation and wanted to raise awareness for any girls currently going through anything remotely close to this situation. It was nice to see that this was something that was being spoken about and I'm so proud of the author for speaking up about her experiences and encouraging others to speak up as well.

Circe by Madeline Miller--if you've already read Song of Achilles and enjoyed it, this was written by the same author and follows a character called Circe. She is actually a side-character from The Odyssey by Homer, so--again--Greek mythology is heavily present in this. I actually haven't gotten around to reading it but I've been promised that this was amazing, and speaks about feminism and females themselves in a world as patriarchal and oppressive as Ancient Greece (let's be honest, they were extremely sexist)

It's Not About the Burqa by various authors, edited by Mariam Khan--this is the only non-fiction book I have on this list because I don't read non-fiction all that much. Reading books, for me, is escaping from reality so reading this genre is going against the main reason I read in the first place. However, that being said, the topic it discusses is very near and dear to my heart as it is part of my identity, who I am as a person. This book, folks, is about Muslim women. It's a compilation of essays written by said women which each tackle different topics regarding Muslim women, ranging from religious dress, representation, mental health, stereotyping, feminism within Islam, expectations, modesty, sexuality, marriage and divorce, and more. One line that instantly hit me was "When was the last time you heard a Muslim woman speak for herself without a filter?" And I realised it was true--that most of the crap I heard about my own people, my fellow Muslim women, are either from men or non-Muslims or (in many cases) both. Reading these really opened my eyes to how we were actually being treated; how our hijabs were being used as a fashion trend rather than a religious observance; how our communities disapprove of behaviours that deviate from what we're expected to be, and the press and state being oppressive and racist towards us. I knew about most of this stuff but it really put into words (quite literally) how severe it is and had made me realise how some of the things I believed were good (like increased representation of Muslims in advertisement for beauty and fashion) were actually only short-term things at face value (like how barely any of the models or designers are actual Muslims and how the hijab, abaya, and other religious clothing were supposed to show how in Islam a woman is not valued by her physical beauty but for her personality, her intelligence, her love for her religion). This in and of itself is a bit of a rant from my part, but I really want people to read this book and understand our voices and our views from our own mouth than through someone else's interpretation off of some half-assed search on the internet. I would seriously recommend people to read it because it is such an important issue to at least try to understand.

There's so many more book that I've heard a lot of praise from that I have but haven't read yet or don't have and am planning to get in the future when my wallet recovers from me recent spending because boy is it HURT. I'll be posting about them

[everything-withered]

Aperture, an Ichiruki fic

For @darisu-chan​‘s prompt below, special thanks to @aesthetic-virgo​ for helping me find it because tumblr hates me.

 The shot is beautiful. Goes without saying. Ichigo's always had an eye for beautiful things, and as a photographer, it's practically a requirement of the job.

But his latest Instagram post has the industry abuzz for reasons that have as much to do with his year-long hiatus as it does the subject of the image itself.

It's a pair of legs; one crossed over the other, set in a slant of lazy nonchalance; toes pointed as if the model were mid-stretch. There's a slash of pale skin, raised higher in the frame implying movement of the upper body, the hint of a chin catching in the shadow as if tilted in challenge, or offering.

It's the absence of, that attracts attention.

There's no face to attach the model to, shrouded as she is in darkness, but it's provocative nonetheless; ripe with secrecy and innuendo, captured in perfect contrast of shadow and light.

The consensus is her beauty, her mystery, the untouchable allure of her.

There's no looking away. Ichigo agrees.

More pictures are posted, bit by bit. And the quality and stylistic choice of the images are the same.

Like breadcrumbs, Ichigo unveils who they agree must be his muse, in snapshots of similar, potent and frustratingly teasing photos.

Whoever she is, there's something otherworldly about her.

There are delicate pale hands clutching flannel sheets under the watercolor softness of the dawn, the retreating night hiding the softness of her forearms before tendrils of dark hair and a pale forehead graze the bottom of the frame like the trailing fingers of a caress.

In another, there's that same spill of dark hair, a pale temple from that same forehead, a sharp, cleverly arched brow with wrinkles at an eye they haven't been graced to meet yet; against an overexposed wall. The sun, like a spotlight, is merciless and harsh, but the dimple at her cheek is more amused rather than afraid.

They start to think that if Ichigo doesn't love her yet, he will.

Washed out in honeyed yellow light is her legs once more. One of them is hooked over the arm of a chair, a black pump dangling from the toes while the other foot is propped up, shoeless, against it. Her knee just kissing at her chest before it's interrupted by another strategic glare of darkness. It's the same casual sort of stretch; automatic, unthinking, intimate.

There's a suspicion that the shots have been made to look that way, that the intention had been to convey snatches of a romance, dreamlike and fleeting; that Ichigo's model is just a foil for a muse in a metaphor of voyeuristic suggestion.

But he's made use of the dark to so carefully shelter her from his gaze even as the little she bares tantalizes him for moremoremore that they second guess it all together.

Perhaps that's why he's holding back. Ichigo's letting them see what he sees begrudgingly, an idea made more clear at the announcement of his next photo gallery.

He hasn't replied to any of the comments that have bombarded each post with questions in the three months since it all began which isn't surprising given that every image thus far had been devoid of captions, explanatory or otherwise.

A management made post changes that to announce that Ichigo's next photo gallery show is called Lover, and the accompanying picture is taken overhead of a table, coffee rings, and chips in the wood with a professional camera and a host of unidentifiable reels of negatives. It's suitably impersonal and meaningless, but it's so out of character that people take notice immediately.

The floor chosen for Lover, unsurprisingly, is packed to the rafters, and while the announcement photo was bland, the host of posts Ichigo actually did make previously to it is more than enough of a draw.

Each canvas lovingly renders his mysterious muse, bathing her in light whilst cradling her desperately, jealously in the dark. She appears to the audience in parts and pieces as she has on Ichigo's Instagram page like she's beckoning them to puzzle her out as Ichigo has.

And they think they do as they catch glimpses of the defiant lift of her chin, the tease of her grin and the flirtatious wink of her eye.

There are glimpses of her life in the lightning strikes across her skin, the damaged elastic of her body around her thighs, her stomach. There are other scars that litter her, less obvious in origin, that have healed in different shades of pink and white and brown.

She has freckles; flecks of starbursts in snow on the outside of her shoulders, the nape of her neck, the tip of her nose.

She squints a lot, the lines around her eyes aren't just for the quickness of her smile, though that's obvious too.

Her lips are full, but chapped. She bites at them, an oral fixation which more than one photograph attests to; teases her for, with every exposure of her teeth mid twirl of a straw, spoon stretching her mouth and lollipop bobbing from rosebud lips.

And while there's a rigidity to her posture when she knows she's the subject, there's also a fluidity in the splay of her arms, the relieved arch of her neck, the slump of her shoulders.

She's not used to being the center of attention, but according to Ichigo, she deserves to be. And in his eyes, she is all he would want to pay attention to at all.

For all that this is his show, Ichigo is nowhere to be found, and his muse is not amongst them either; ethereal creature that she is, they're convinced they'd know it was her by her sheer presence alone.

The opening night of the gallery ends without either of them making an appearance.

The following morning, an Instagram post is uploaded, and most would think it's a simple thank-you from Ichigo's management for everyone's support of the event. Instead, what it actually is, is a video:

It's from the evening before. Most of the overhead lights have been switched off though, except for one, and the gallery is empty save for one woman, and one man. Ichigo.

Their backs are to the camera, but his bright hair is an easy enough identifier.

But for all that she's standing there before their eyes, his muse; she's hidden from them still with the comforting bulk of Ichigo's shadow to guard her. Still protecting her, still hoarding her for himself.

As she stares at the photograph illuminated by the only light in the gallery, she murmurs, soft and brittle and hopeful, "Do you mean it?"

"Rukia." It's an incantation, a plea. The single word trembles in the whisper it's encased in.

Her inhale is shaky, "Do you mean it, the way you see me?"

And they all hear the undercurrent of her question: like I'm precious, like I'm lovely, like I'm fragile, like I'm perfect, like I'm not; like I'm yours?

His reply is a ragged exhale.

The video stops.

The caption reads: I wouldn't look anywhere else if you let me.

Kudos | Ko-fi

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

The Angel’s Share - Ch. 6

Chapter: 6 of ? (Find Chapter 5 here)

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Kate settles into her room at Allerdale, and she and Thomas share a quick and unexpected moment before dinner.

Permanent taglist for hopelessromanticspoonie (open): @vodka-and-some-sass​ @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @myoxisbroken​ @blah666 @brokenthelovely​ @myworddump​ @polireader​

Taglist for Angel’s Share (open): @rjohnson1280​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @villainousshakespeare​ @wolfsmom1 @arch-venus25 @tamstrugglestowrite @trickstersteve

A/N: If you are bolded, you could not be tagged. If you wish to be added to the taglist, please contact either of us or leave a comment!

Co-written with my splendid sister-from-another-mister, @yespolkadotkitty​

Hot damn.

He had absolutely no right to look that delectable doing something so mundane - and downright disgusting - as mucking out horse stalls. Her eyes drank him in greedily, following a bead of sweat as it trailed down the column of his neck to the hollow of his throat, before spilling down the porcelain planes of defined muscles of his torso and disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. The barest smattering of black hair extended from beneath his belly button to disappear beneath his trousers, matching the patch of hair between his firm pectorals. For such a slender man, he was much more muscular than she expected, built with an underlying strength that was more agile speed than brute force. Not that she had thought about him half-naked. Not at all.

Pulling herself from her momentary lapse of judgment - she was not attracted to the posh Baronet - Kate painted a smirk onto her face, shifting her weight onto one hip. “Well, you had to get all of the bullshit that comes out of your mouth from somewhere.”

He shook his head, a smile tugging at one side of that gorgeous poet’s mouth, pushing back a few sweat-dampened locks of hair from his face before tugging on his shirt. All the better, as she couldn’t let herself get distracted by his almost unmarred, marble-pale complexion. “Where is Eddie?”

Adjusting her grip on her duffel bag, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Well, he spread his plague to half of the staff, so he had to stay behind and work the pub. So, you’re stuck with just me this weekend.”

The look in his eyes as he walked over and easily took her bag from her made it seem like he wasn’t too upset at the turn of events. “I’m sure we’ll manage somehow. Come, I’ll show you to your room and then I can give you a brief tour of the house before dinner? With it becoming dark soon, I planned to save the tour of the rest of the facilities for tomorrow.”

She tried to snag her bag back off of his shoulder, but he angled his body away with a shake of his head. Not wanting to fight a losing battle against the long-limbed man, she shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and fell into step with him. “Sure thing, Fabio.”

He quirked his brow. “Fabio?”

Her chocolate brown eyes danced across the sprawling landscape, trying to imagine a young Sir Thomas Sharpe running around just as Gideon had been earlier - perhaps terrorizing Lucille just as his tiny doppelganger upon her arrival. It was a pleasant image in her head, and the small smile that had graced her face at the thought remained when she shifted her attention back to her companion. “You know, that guy from the romance novels? My mum used to read them. He’s an American. Always shirtless, with long hair, ripped chest all oiled up as he tenderly embraces the swooning damsel in distress.”

“I can’t say that I’m familiar, but I do appreciate the comparison,” he winked, holding open a side door, waving her inside.

The interior was just as grand as the exterior, with towering ceilings, intricate chandeliers, and hardwood floors that had to be original. She followed Thomas up a grand staircase, trailing her hand up the smooth handrail, imaging years and years of Sharpe’s doing the same. This was not a world that she belonged in, one of old money and place settings with too many pieces of silverware on them. The history practically oozed out of the walls, taunting her with elegant crown molding and creaking floorboards.

He followed her into the room that was to be hers for the weekend, setting down her duffel on a cushioned leather seat on the end of the four poster bed. “Through that door is an ensuite, which should have everything you need for your stay. The balcony is private, but the French door can stick sometimes. There’s a stone outside you can use to prop it open so you don’t become trapped out there. Dinner and drinks will be,” he paused, glancing at the wide-faced, leather-strapped watch on his wrist briefly, “in about one hour. I’ll come collect you around then to show you where the dining room is, if that’s alright?”

“Sure thing,” she replied, propping her hip against a dark post at the corner of the bed. “Thanks, Thomas.”

A look of pure shock flashed across his face before he could replace it with polite indifference. He cleared his throat, backing towards the door. “Until then.”

Once the door was shut behind him, she took in the room with a critical eye. It was nice, the wooden furnishings sturdy and oiled, the mattress yielding but firm beneath her as she sat down to kick off her boots. Through the windows she was given a view of the back garden, which didn’t look wild, but wasn’t meticulously maintained, either. Perhaps she could sit out there later at night, see what the sky looked like without the bright London lights to dim the brilliance of the stars.

Humming quietly to herself, she set about unpacking her clothes, hanging them up in an antique wardrobe in the corner that looked as if it could take her to Narnia if she looked hard enough.

Her entire flat could almost fit in the large bedroom and ensuite bathroom. Even sparsely furnished as the rooms were, it wasn’t hard to imagine them full to the brim with gaudy decorations to match the faded wallpaper on the walls, fancily dressed women tittering to themselves in fine clothes about their men off hunting on horseback.

She felt like a time traveler, unpacking her toiletries onto the white marble countertop in the bathroom, glancing at her reflection in the large gold-framed mirror before her. She didn’t belong here, with her cheap flannel and worn blue jeans. Running a brush through her thick caramel hair, she mentally shook herself. Who was she trying to impress by freshening up? Certainly not Thomas, and she didn’t know what to make of Lucille just yet; the enigmatic woman was a puzzle for sure.

A knock sounded on her door, pulling her from her inspection of her heart-shaped face, making her brush clatter to the counter loudly. “Shit. Coming!”

Tugging on her flannel, she padded to the door, having spent so long looking about and lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t thought to decide if she should change. Wasn’t that something that posh people did? Wear nice clothes to impress absolutely no one of importance, risking ruining them with a spilled bit of sauce? She tugged open the heavy wooden door, finding Thomas standing on the other side, running a hand through his damp obsidian curls. A few wayward locks curled around his jaw, kissing his freshly shaven skin. Damn.

And he wore another bloody henley, forest green this time, complimenting his creamy skin and raven hair. He smiled, a relaxed, warm expression, taking in her unchanged outfit save for her mismatched black and white socks. Bergamot and citrus wafted over her as she stepped out of the room, skirting around him so close that her arm brushed his chest. She was acutely aware of the brief contact, but refused to acknowledge why that might be.

“To dinner, then? You must be hungry after such a journey,” he swept his arm down the hallway, azure eyes twinkling brightly. “And if you are thirsty, I hear that an excellent whiskey is produced on the estate that I’m sure you will enjoy.”

She walked in the direction he suggested, crossing her arms beneath her chest. “So, there will be whiskey served besides Crimson Peak?”

*****

Thomas chuckled. Kate was a spitfire. He’d seen a softening in her today, though. He knew it. A tiny chink in her extensive armour for sure, but he’d seen it. They reached the staircase and he offered her his arm, elbow out in invitation.

“You’ll be offered a choice of mixers if you find the taste of the whiskey is not to your liking.”

She gave him the side-eye, but he saw a smile ticking up at the corner of her mouth, her eyes dancing with amusement. After a moment’s further hesitation, she slipped her hand through his arm and he walked her down the stairs as if she were a grand duchess attending her debutante’s ball.

“What is it?” he asked, when she cleared her throat, clearly mulling over whether to speak.

“I can’t figure you out, Thomas,” she said eventually, her voice soft as they reached the last stair.

He glanced at her face, her profile delicate. His name in her voice sounded like an invitation to sin. “Really. In what sense?”

“You don’t act…rich.”

“And how should I act?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Kate slipped her hand free of his elbow and looked up at him. The low light from the ancient chandelier at the foot of the stairs touched on her hair, picking out the gold in the warm honey-brown of her locks. “You shouldn’t be like this. Kind. Hardworking. Friendly.”

He lifted a hand to tuck a stay lock of hair behind her ear. “Who put the shadows in your eyes, Katherine? I’ve a mind to rough them up.”

“Thomas, I-”

“Uncle Thomas! Missus Kate!!” Gideon barrelled into the back of Thomas’s legs and he stumbled. Automatically Kate’s arms shot out to steady him and he grabbed on to her, pulling her close. The lines of their bodies fit together perfectly, and Thomas breathed her in, the faintest hint of strawberries and the freshness of soap in her scent. The whole contrary package of her made his heart thump wildly. Her effect on him made itself known further down his body too, and he made himself think unsexy thoughts to refrain from making either of them uncomfortable. His jeans were a bit too tight as it was.

“I beg your pardon.” He drew back, steadying himself, but he’d seen the quicksilver flash of want in her eyes when they’d accidentally embraced.

“No worries, GQ.” Kate slid her palms down her jeans. “Hey, Gideon.”

The boy grinned up at her. “I’ve been making aeroplanes! Wanna see?”

“After dinner, Gideon,” Lucille called out as she appeared in the dining room doorway. “Hello, Kate. Settled in all right?”

“Yes, thank you,” Kate said stiffly.

Lucille led Gideon through to the dining room by the hand. Thomas leaned in to Kate and murmured; “She’s all bark and no bite, I promise. She’s reserved.” When Kate smiled, he added, “Remind you of anyone?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “I’m not taking your bait, Sharpe, no matter how low you dangle it. I’ve been on a train for two hours with nothing but mints and I’m starved. Let’s eat.”

[brideofedoras]

Cupid’s Arrow

Cupid’s Arrow

A Modern AU Cupid/OFC

Disclaimer: I do not own Cupid or Aphrodite or the images in the aesthetic I created...  I only own my OCs...

Warnings: NONE!  (yet...)

Word Count: 2100+

Rating: 18+ (to be on the safe side)...

*Note: This was originally supposed to be a short one but it got away with me.  I’m nowhere near finished with it, I’m currently stuck but I wanted to post it for Valentine’s Day.  So...  Here’s part one!

Valentine’s Day is T-minus 7 days, 14 hours, 38 minutes…

Cupid snorted awake when the damned alarm sounded on his phone.  He rolled over and grabbed the device to silence the alert.  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he muttered, dropping the iPhone onto the blanket before scrubbing his hands over his face.  Dammit, he wanted to go back to sleep.

Unfortunately he had a job to do.  And if he didn’t do it, his mother would never let him hear the end of it.  

Aphrodite had been on a tear ever since she’d heard about some cute little brunette running a quaint little bookstore in the middle of Nowhere, Missouri.  Rumor had it the girl was very beautiful and every red-blooded man in a hundred mile radius were flocking around her.

He screwed his eyes shut.  His mother could be a very jealous woman at times, but this was ridiculous.  She wanted him to go undercover, get a job somewhere in that town (preferably at the bookstore, if Aphrodite had her way), and nail some fat, ugly old man with one of his arrows and make him fall in love with the girl.

He sighed heavily as he sat up, the bedding pooling at his bare waist.  One thing he hated was his own mother using him to ease her jealousy at some innocent woman’s expense.  

“That’s not how I work, Mom,” he muttered to himself.  He threw the covers off and stood up, shuddering at the slight chill in the room.  

He preferred to bring couples together naturally without wasting his precious arrows.  Occasionally someone would drag their heels and deny they were head over heels in love with the person they were meant to be with.  Then he would bust out the crossbow and take aim.

But to use an arrow to force love on someone?  It was immoral.  He would not do something that went against his beliefs.

He would go, he would try to get hired on somewhere in Valentine Creek, Missouri, and see if there was anyone she was interested in.  And if the feelings were reciprocated he would work his matchmaking skills, bring them together and hope for the best.

Cupid grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and pulled them on, formulating the plan in his head.  Research the town, see if there are any job openings, apply and charm his way into a job, meet the girl, befriend the girl, and hopefully fix her up with her one true love.  

He finished getting dressed and fixed himself a pot of coffee before he grabbed his laptop and settled down on his bed once more to do a Google search on the girl his mother had taken a dislike to sight unseen.  

Valentine Creek, Missouri.  Population 8,347.  Located on the Missouri River in the middle of the state, cute little tourist town with a rich history.  His hazel eyes skimmed along the list of businesses until the name of the bookstore Aphrodite had practically spat out last night caught his attention.  

Adventure Awaits.  Established in 1996 by Nic and Calliope Wilder on the square in historic downtown Valentine’s Creek, Adventure Awaits is a bookstore, bakery and coffee shop rolled into one.  Current owner and operator is their daughter, Penelope Wilder, a 2018 graduate of Olympus University where she studied business management and creative writing.  The Wilders have collaborated with area businesses during festivals to host wine walks to raise funds for restoring historic sites of interest; children’s workshops such as creative writing, art, dance, theater, and baking; pet adoption specials; back-to-school supply drives, and Christmas book drives.

He reached for his coffee and took a sip before searching to see if Adventure Awaits had a website.  “Bingo,” he murmured when it pulled up.  He frowned thoughtfully as he took in the simple page with a Victorian-esque background.  Links to view the dessert and beverage menu, books, gifts, upcoming events lined the top of the page.

He scrolled down the main page, finding it to be a blog of sorts touting specials, sales, employment opportunities and photos from recent events.  

One photo caught his attention.  A blue-eyed brunette curled up on an overstuffed armchair with a book and a three-legged cat.  

Meet the not-so-new owner and operator of Adventure Awaits: Penny (and Church).

Cupid double-tapped the photo to get a better look.  

Long dark hair flowing in waves, bright baby blue eyes framed with long dark lashes, high cheekbones, full pink lips, flawless skin.  An aura of shy innocence in that smile.

Warmth flooded through him as he studied, as he memorized Penelope Wilder’s photograph.  He wondered if her hair felt as silky as it looked, if it would curl around his fingers.  Would her lips feel plush and velvety soft under his?  What would her kisses taste like?  Would her eyes sparkle with love and adoration as she looked deep into his own hazels?

The increasing tightness in his chest snapped him out of his reverie.  Cupid scrubbed his hands over his face and drew in a deep breath.  “You are the God of Love, you have no time for a romance of your own, you idiot,” he berated himself.  “Mom would kill you, too, for this.”

He spread his fingers to peek at the computer screen once more, to the chocolate brown tresses and the baby blue eyes and the shy smile.  “I can’t do this.”

Cupid startled when his phone vibrated on the night stand.  With a groan he dropped his hands and snatched it up.  “Crap.”  He swiped his thumb to answer.  “Mom.”

“Cupid, don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”  The sickly sweet tone in Aphrodite’s voice belied the irritation he picked up on.

“No, I’m not doing it,” he leaned back against the headboard.  

“Yes, you are,” she growled at him.  “You are going to fly your cute little ass to Missouri and make her fall in love with some fat old geezer.”

“Mother, what you are demanding of me goes against what I stand for,” he warned.  “I will not force that kind of fate on an undeserving innocent.”

“I don’t care,” he rolled his eyes at her flippant tone.  “You’re doing this or I’m disowning you.”

“You say that every time you want me to do your dirty work, Mom,” he reached up and raked his fingers through his golden blond hair.  “You haven’t disowned me yet.”

“Just do it, Cupid,” she snapped and disconnected the call.

“No, Mom,” he dropped the phone onto the bed.  “I’m not gonna ruin her life to appease your jealousy.”  He leaned forward to look at the photo of the blue-eyed beauty once more.  

“No, Church, you can’t have a brownie,” Penelope smiled at the three-legged cat at her feet.  “You shouldn’t be back here anyway.”

Big amber eyes blinked at her from the sweet ebony face before the rescue hobbled off with his fluffy tail flicking sassily at her.

She shook her head as she finished stocking the dessert display.  “Chocolate isn’t good for furbabies,” she picked up the cream cheese chocolate chip brownie she’d saved for herself and followed the cat to the window display overlooking the park across the street.  It was cloudy out, snow was in the forecast for the afternoon.  “Think we’ll get the four inches of snow the weatherman promised?”  She scritched behind Church’s left ear.

The cat purred in response, a deep and loud rumble as he turned his head to urge her to scratch him under his jaw.  

She smiled as she complied.  “Not that we have to get out in it, since we live upstairs and I did the shopping last night.”  Her baby blue eyes wandered to the window again.  “Well, we have thirty minutes before it’s time to open, Mom will be here later to help me with today’s delivery…  Is it wrong to want a shot of tequila to get me through the day?”

“Mrrrrp,” Church gave her a half meow, half purr for a response before turning and hopping up onto the vintage wingback chair in the display.  He promptly curled up on the soft ivory afghan.

“It was just a hypothetical question,” she sighed as she straightened the books on the side table.  “Maybe.”

She turned away from the window and walked through the small store.  She switched around a few Valentine’s Day displays, rotating the books on the stands and tried not to groan as she wondered how many men she was going to have to fend off today.

Not a single one of them were interested in a relationship.  They wanted to hook up, do the one night stand thing and go on their merry little way, or the friends with benefits, no-strings-attached thing.  

She was shy, introverted, and hooking up for sex was something she could not do.  If she was going to invest her time in someone, step out of her comfort zone and make herself vulnerable then that person better be in it for the long haul, and not just for sex.  Some of her friends had a revolving door of lovers, and she understood that this day and age that was the new normal.  It just was not for her.  She wanted the old cliche, a whirlwind romance evolving into happily ever after.

Penny groaned.  “I should just go on vacation every year around this time, Church,” she picked up a copy of one of her favorite books and carried it to the counter.  “What do you think?  A little bungalow on the beach somewhere?  Maybe run away to New Zealand?”  She chuckled when she received no response from the stray-turned-spoiled house cat.  “I’m terrified of flying, that would never work anyway,” she shook her head as she propped Pride and Prejudice up next to the register.  One quick glance at the clock on the wall told her she had five minutes to go before it was time to open.  With another sigh she rounded the counter to start the coffee maker for the regular coffee, checked the other machines, and grabbed the keys to unlock the door.

“Church, it’s already starting to snow,” she commented as she unlocked the door leading to the enclosed foyer.  Once the main door was unlocked she dipped into her bucket of rock salt and stepped out onto the sidewalk to spread it out.  

“Penny, where’s your coat?”

Her head snapped up toward the shoe store to the left.  “Upstairs in my apartment,” she answered with a smile.  “I’ll grab it when I have a chance, Ed.”

“You be sure to do that, wouldn’t want for you to come down sick,” Ed Chambers smiled back.  “If you want, I can have Josh shovel the walk for you later.”

“Thank you,” she shook her head.  “I’ll take care of it.”

“The offer stands if you get busy, Penny,” he waved before ducking back into his shop.

Her smile dropped the moment she was alone.  Ugh.  I do not want Josh shoveling my part of the walk.  He will just come into the store and flirt and get mad the moment I turn him down.  She ducked back into the foyer for more rock salt.  “I’m quite capable of shoveling my sidewalk, clearing off my car, and carrying my groceries,” she muttered out loud.  “Don’t need some jerk coming along flexing to show off and entice me into something I want no part of.”  A few more scoops of salt later she grabbed the sign her dad had made years ago and set it where it was out of the way but easily seen.  Caution: Sidewalk might be slick!  Please walk with care!

She stepped back into her business and flipped the sign from “Closed” to “Come on in, we’re open!”.  Once she wiped her feet on the rough mat she sighed heavily.  “I swear to God, Cupid better keep his damned arrows away from me.”

Penny ducked around the wall separating the counter from the kitchen to wash her hands.  It would likely be a slow day for business with the snow arriving earlier than expected (never a good sign), and the main drag would be clogged later with rerouted traffic from accidents on the freeway bridge ten minutes away (happens every time it rains or snows, people think they can fly down the highway at 90 miles per hour regardless of the weather).  But she had her regulars to think about.  Employees from the businesses, city hall, the police and sheriff’s department and the courthouse often popped in for a cup of coffee and a fresh brownie or cookie during their breaks.  The auxiliary from the local hospital enjoyed coming in to request books and novelty items to be ordered for their gift shop.  She doubted they would come in.  

Slow days could be both a blessing and a curse, she thought.  With nothing else to do until the delivery, she settled in behind the counter for a long wait.

[benichi]

Money Jar and Illusion of Choice

aka Story Jar by NTT Solmare and Love Choice by Otome Romance (former Voltage Inc.) Since I haven’t been around much the last few weeks and because I got an ask about it I decided to look at these new ways to “enjoy” Otome games. I already vented about Money-... I mean Love Jar yesterday, and while Voltage isn’t quite as hardcode (yet) it still should be talked about.

I’ll start with Masquerade Kiss, Otome Romance (former Voltage Inc.)’s new game which introduces Love Choice as a way to read Main Stories. Apparently the only way for future releases. Though it doesn’t matter much where I start since both of these new “systems” have a lot in common. This is how the Love 365 app greets you currently.

FOR FREE OMG. However as you know nothing in life is free, if you look closely you’ll see “Use hearts to read without wait times ♪”. So literally in the same breath they tell you that this new system is shit. We’ll take a more in-depth look at those wait times later because they play a big role for this entire new system, including the situation in Story Jar. To put the second part into words that aren’t sugar coated “Use money to deepen your affection! If you want to see CG’s and get a satisfactory ending you had better open that wallet of yours cause those are behind a paywall♪“. Otome Romance (former Voltage Inc.) is trying to be charming about this but the bottom line is: without money you get the short end of the stick. Which isn’t all bad or uncommon. They are a company so obviously they have to make money. But they’ve come up with quite a cunning way to do just that.

CELEBRATION! NOW OR NEVER! READ THE WHOLE STORY WITHOUT WAITING!!! WHAT A NEW AND REVOLUTIONARY CONCEPT?! HAS THIS EVER HAPPENED BEFORE? Yes. That’s the old system we’ve had until now. Where you pay 4€ once and own the entire thing to read at your own pace and revisit as often as you’d like. I honestly couldn’t help but scoff when this screen showed up as I was playing. 

Which brought me to my first question. Why don’t they simply let us consumers choose between buying the entire thing and this “f2p” version? It’s the same simple answer for all questions related to this topic:  💰 💰 💰

The elaborate explanation is that obviously no one would touch this “f2p” version unless they’re forced to. As stated above stories used to be 4€. However Love Choice is much more expensive.

This part made me especially sick. They know exactly that for a lot of us Otoge is something we use to treat ourselves. These sugar coated words “special” “exciting outcomes” “spicy ending” aim exactly for that. You’re already here, surely you don’t want to miss this super special spicy scintillating sexy breathtaking ending.

However that’s not even the worst part yet. One choice costs 5 hearts which is not too bad right? Too good to be true almost, which is exactly what’s happening here. As you progress the amount of hearts needed steadily increases. The biggest amount one choice costs is 26 hearts.

That singular choice plus CG costs almost as much as an entire route with all CG’s etc. used to cost (400 Coins).

Granted as you can see above you “only” need 12 points to get the super special spicy scintillating sexy breathtaking ending. Which means you don’t always have to select the ~special choice~. However the amount of points you get per special choice is different each time (ranging from 1pt to 3pts), there’s no other way to earn them. So unless you use a Walkthrough you’re grasping at straws. Like here, you’ll get a CG sure but only 1pt. In theory a choice with 3pts is more lucrative but who knows when one of those might show up.

Ultimately guessing whether the money you’ve invested so far will be enough to get you that desired ending might be more thrilling than Eisuke 2.0 trying to shove his tongue into your mouth.

Let’s get back to our numbers though. In order to get all the CG’s + that super special ending you’ll need at least 85 hearts. Which basically translates to 900 Coins.

11€. Only possible if you play it smart by using a Walkthrough, which means someone else took the plunge and paid the whooping 22€ instead. Because that’s what you’ll have to pay if you go for every single special choice. Granted you don’t have to spend the entire 2000 Coins, there are 300 left over because Otome Romance (former Voltage Inc.) simply never offers the exact amount of 1700 Coins you’d need. But what do these leftover 300 coins even do for you? Nothing much anymore as we’ve seen.

Plus there’s the wait times we haven’t experienced yet. I mean how much does it cost if I don’t want to wait for 5 hours? Will those “leftover” 300 coins even cover that? A part of me honestly doesn’t even want to know.

Moving on to the illusion of having a choice. As stated above the only way to raise points is by using money. Only these paid choices change the Love Meter. Every other ~choice~ might as well not be there because it doesn’t make a difference. Let’s look at this one scene in particular. For context my dude Kazuomi Shido wants to get rid of a woman because she “knows too much”.

As stated before you could skip this special choice and still get that ~Super Happy Ending~. I mean ppffft what’s she to me amirite? Random Woman Nr.1 is definitely not worth my 50 coins.

But how is this enjoyable? How am I supposed to be pleased knowing that the only way to get a different ending is paying up. That my choices don’t matter except for the ones where I make it rain money for Otome Romance (former Voltage Inc.). They might as well just remove the “choices” and sell the entire story for 11€ or 22€ if they’re feeling bold. 

But again, if the amount you spend was displayed in such a blunt way no one would ever go near these stories. I mean just look at Wand of Fortune (Story Jar). A single route consists of 27 Chapters (the 1st one being free). One Chapter costs 20 diamonds. So to read everything you’ll need 520 diamonds, which translates to 44€. How is this real life? Who thought this was a good idea?

Which brought me to my next question: What’s up with this sudden increase we see for the amount of Chapters? Could we be... getting more for our money? Again, no. It’s still all about them getting more  💰 💰 💰

Because each Chapter is incredibly short. And while the Chapters in Masquerade Kiss at least make sense despite their shortness the same can’t even be said for Wand of Fortune.

I think this sudden rise serves a few different purposes. Obviously more Chapters means more money. In WoF you just straight up have to pay and in Love Choice it gives them the option to put in even more “””special choices”””. Plus when there’s no CELEBRATION NOW OR NEVER PLAY WITHOUT WAIT TIMES event that’s another point where you could possibly pay to progress more quickly. I mean 5 hours wait time means you’ll only get to play 4 Chapters per day. If that’s even an option for you. I certainly can’t whip out my phone at work to get raunchy with Eisuke 2.0 simply because 5 hours have passed. But that’s an entirely different matter.

But what else is happening here? Honestly these Chapter splits are nothing but sneaky practices to pick the money right out of our pockets. By splitting the costs into different Chapters people will be less aware of how much they’re actually paying. If they straight up tried to sell one story for 44€ or 22€ who in their right mind would buy that? Unless you sit down and do the math first you’ll just kind of pay slowly as you progress the story. Plus on Love Choice you don’t even necessarily have the option to figure out how much it’ll cost in the end unless you go through the thing for yourself once or find someone that wrote everything down. At this point we can’t even say if the requirements for Kazuomi’s route are the norm. Are 85 hearts always the minimum requirement? 169 the most? There’s no telling at this point.

What I do know at this point however is that these companies are taking advantage of us. It’s true, we are currently in a dire situation. Our niche market is slowly running cold with the Vita being officially dead and no announcements for the Switch overseas. Currently mobile games are the only thing that’s going strong in the Otome Market here. But this? This can’t be it!

I won’t pay for a game that’s so completely butchered from it’s original release that it's barely functional and makes no sense. With core mechanics and voice acting removed. I won’t pay to be stripped from the right to make my own choices in a visual novel and to be played like a fiddle with all these sugar coated words that hide shrewed tricks.

Only if you give him 13 hearts first though. I gotta admit the image of Kazuomi standing there with his palm stretched out like 

“I could stick my tongue into your mouth BUT that’ll be 2,29€ first. We don’t take checks, by the way” is a little funny but ultimately too expensive for my taste.

I honestly understand that these are not easy times to be a fan of Otome Games. However, if we let these companies play us like this then we’ve already lost. Why would Aksys or any other company bother translating major titles that take so much more effort to localize if mobile Otoge with considerably less work can be sold for almost the same amount? I mean if someone pays 44€ per route that’s 264 € for the entire “game”. You could probably buy half of the Vita games Aksys has released so far with that amount. Maybe all of them if you wait for sales, this is insanity.

And 22€ is in no way better either. Just think of all the things you can buy for that amount of money, I mean not even games. Plus Otome Romance (former Voltage Inc.) is becoming worse and worse as time goes on. I’ve defended them for a long time because in a way I’m grateful. I still remember when Pirates in Love was practically the only thing we had. But I’ve reached my limit. Love Choice is just as bad as Story Jar. 

This post has become long enough, but I’ll add this later or make a seperate post of how f2p can work. I don’t want to be misunderstood, I know some people prefer f2p instead of just buying the entire stories which is perfectly fine. But these two companies have missed the mark completely and we have to be vocal about it.

PS: If you want to experience good f2p games please check out Cybird games, they’re our only hope in these unholy times.

[orokinarchives]

Discussion: Ticker

Occupation

Ticker sells secondhand wares – random tools and items that the Tenno can use to decorate their Orbiter. She shouts out advertisements for her shop if the Tenno is standing nearby, but she also hints to her real business: debt forgiveness.

Ticker collects Corpus debt dossiers and will sell them to any Tenno able to pay. By investing resources and credits, a Tenno can redeem a Solaris from their debt, freeing them from their servitude to the Corpus. In return, the Tenno receive the Solaris' debt-bonds, which are used as currency by some Fortuna merchants – allowing them to collectively repay the debt of the freed individual. Ticker stresses that the debt-trading operation is highly illegal and that the Corpus authorities will kill her (or, more likely, brain-shelve her) if she were ever exposed. This may explain why the other residents of Fortuna stay away from her shop and do not mention her.

After the Tenno has reached rank Old Mate with Solaris United and proven to Eudico that they are a true friend of Fortuna, the floor boss will reveal, among other things, that Ticker also smuggles families out of Fortuna (and perhaps also smuggles supplies into Fortuna – Eudico's wording is ambiguous). These are likely families that are targeted for full repo or brain-shelving due to severe delinquency on their debt. It is not known if Ticker takes the families off-world or simply to hidden sites on the Orb Vallis or elsewhere on Venus.

Personal

Ticker is flamboyant and self-confident, never hesitating to give out advice on how to live a fulfilling life. She speaks, like many other Solaris, as someone who has experienced too much pain in life, but she doesn't seem to dwell on it, instead emphasising personal growth in the wake of every tragedy. She is aware of the role she plays in alleviating, even slightly, the incredibly dehumanising system of debt-bondage the Corpus have instituted, and her outlook is a curious mixture of optimism and cynicism. Overall, Ticker demonstrates one of the more complex personalities among the Solaris.

Ticker's mother is dead, from an unstated cause. Her other family is not mentioned.

Ticker's debt-bond memory fragments portray a deep, long-lasting romance that was terminated when her significant other was brain-shelved. Although Ticker sold off almost her entire body to clear her partner's debt and buy a rig for him, he had apparently suffered damage from being shelved too long, both in functioning and memory, and Ticker was unable to resume the relationship. Although the story is deeply emotional for her, she does not seem bitter about either the romantic relationship or the loss of her original body, and will refer to both when talking with the Tenno.

Ticker seems to be good friends with Smokefinger and looks after him, as she mentions that she will often bring him food and remind him to eat when he gets engrossed in his work.

Ticker mentions The Business in passing, referencing his current occupation as an ecologist and wildlife expert, but it appears to be a segue to an unrelated thought on the importance of combating depressing and violent thoughts. Whether this is simply advice or a subtle commentary on The Business is unknown.

Ticker is sympathetic to Rude Zuud and her malfunctions, but in an interesting way. She mentions "all her invisible friends" – Chatter and perhaps other split personalities we have not yet seen – and then talks about a paranormal experience where Ticker's mother appeared to predict the time of her own death. This suggests an assumption that Chatter is a supernatural phenomenon, such as a spirit possessing or assisting Zuud. This is an odd assumption for Ticker to make, since we know objectively that Chatter and Rude Zuud's other issues originate from the Deck 12 incident and the loss of her sisters. There are multiple potential explanations – disassociation and hallucination due to the trauma of the event, residual copies or fragments of her sisters' consciousnesses due to the oneness of their minds and the abrupt nature of the disconnect, or even sensor and comms malfunctions as mentioned in her Corpus debt portfolio – and none of them necessitate a supernatural influence. It is possible that Ticker is not very close to Rude Zuud and is unaware (somehow) of the events in her past.

Interestingly, Ticker will sometimes mention the legend of Gara and the Sentient Eidolon, drawing inspiration from the battle.

Other

Every resident of Fortuna who the Tenno befriends will eventually open up and begin talking about the other Solaris, with a single exception in that none of them will talk about Ticker (Ticker will, of course, mention others, as noted above). In fact, the omission becomes conspicuous during Operation: Buried Debts. After the Exploiter Orb is killed and Rude Zuud gains closure, her mental trauma appears to be somewhat eased and she remembers her sisters, and the life they led in Deck 12 with the other Solaris. Eudico replies, "We've never forgotten. Me, Biz, Smokefinger… any of us." It's possible that Eudico was simply avoiding having to name every resident of Fortuna, but the fact is that she did name every resident we know, aside from Legs and the Ventkids (who were too young to have known Zuud before), Little Duck (who was possibly not present at Deck 12)… and Ticker. Coupled with the fact that she appears to be unfamiliar with the nature of Rude Zuud's trauma, it is a distinct possibility that Ticker was not present during the events of the Deck 12 crackdown. Since her accent points to her being a Fortuna native (unlike The Business), it is possible she was away at the time, working off her debt on a Corpus colony or ship elsewhere. Deck 12 holds such central importance in the histories all Fortuna residents that the fact that there are zero connections to Ticker is remarkable.

Another explanation, as noted earlier, is that the silence is a deliberate policy in place to protect Ticker from scrutiny, since she performs extremely dangerous work of great importance to the Solaris. Either way, a Tenno who never ventures into the upper level of Fortuna may never know she exists.

[Navigation: Hub → Discussion → Ticker]

[gascon-en-exil]

Lords and their Knights: When FE Chivalry Goes Gay

@mwritesink prompted me to write about my favorite tropes in FE and how they evolved over the course of the series. I already crossed a few others off in an earlier post, but this one is a particular favorite of mine where M/M romance in this series is concerned and one I felt had enough examples to constitute a piece of its own. Let it not be said that this is merely the gay variation on the well-worn heterosexual romance trope of a lady and her knight (ex. Eirika/Seth), because negotiating the fundamental power imbalance in this type of relationship takes on different dimensions when both parties are male. I draw a closer comparison to courtly love, which in the traditional sense is also socially transgressive (being adulterous) and not consummated via marriage or other public means...which in FE terms means an S support and possibly a eugenics baby. A vassal in love with his lord rather than his lord’s wife is not only cutting the female intermediary out of what can already be a very homoromatic scenario, but it’s directly tangling together a kind of martial romantic love and ideas about what knighthood/vassalage even is or ought to be - two topics FE loves to explore. I’ve therefore compiled a few of the most notable examples of this trope across the series to talk about in more detail, because if one is willing to be liberal with subtext there’s surprisingly quite a few to pick from.

(And yeah, this is also in part because I like hot rich men who take orders, and this series already has plenty of gay or otherwise ambiguously non-straight mages, thieves, archers, and their ilk without my help.)

The Sad Gay Knight: Quan/Finn

This one I’ve talked about before in a fair amount of depth, from my hopes for how a Genealogy remake will treat Finn to speculation on just what Quan got out of this relationship besides a devoted retainer and (we may assume) a nice piece of ass. The summary here is that Finn’s love for Quan supersedes anything he’s shown to feel for any of the various women he can hook up with and quite frankly astonishes in its ramifications for the future of Leonster and Thracia as a whole. It’s poignant, adulterous (but Ethlyn’s probably ok with it?), and messy as all hell once you factor in whatever’s up with Glade and whatever Lachesis wasn’t feeling about the whole situation. It is also, naturally, very sad; Finn loses his lord when he’s only around eighteen, and with their kingdom collapsing around him and the entire continent consumed by war he dedicates the next twenty years of his life to raising Quan’s son to be the king Quan himself had wanted to be. And for all his labor he apparently derives no lasting satisfaction, spending his epilogue wandering around the Yied desert and at last returning only to (possibly) pen the history he’s helped to make. 

Finn is the embodiment of knighthood loyal unto and beyond death, and that paired with all the romantic and erotic subtext surrounding the two of them - Finn as Quan’s treasured favorite, his catatonia after Yied, the obsessive polishing of the brave lance that Quan gave to him, his inability to satisfy women in some vague way - makes them the defining example of this trope in Fire Emblem. I look forward to seeing how remakes will handle them; Finn’s presentation in Heroes is definitely cause for hope there. As for the issue of yet another story in media of gay men beset by tragedy and death, I did draw up a long headcanon on the technically crack pairing of Diarmuid/Tristan that specifically plays into the lord and knight trope while also allowing Finn a chance to pass his experiences on to a later, happier generation. IS is free to take notes, just saying.

Pretty Blond Twinks and the Men Who Love Them: Perceval/Elffin and their lasting influence

Moving on from Jugdral, I’ve got to say that I’ve really been sleeping on the original gay Elibean duo. Before Raven and Lucius (but chronologically after, because these games are out of order) there was another feminine young man with long blond hair beloved of a severe-looking warrior. Binding Blade gives us the bard Elffin, who in another life was Etruria’s Prince Mildain and Perceval’s liege. The Knight General takes Mildain’s alleged accidental death about as well as Finn takes the death of his lord and lady; he turns grim and humorless, and without a dying dream to guide him he follows the command of the corrupt revolutionary faction of Etruria with little protest. It takes learning that Mildain is alive and in Roy’s army for Perceval to drop the halfhearted Camus routine and switch sides, and the strength of his fealty not to his nation or even to his king but to the prince he’d thought dead is absolutely touching in the moment not to mention incredibly useful since the guy is one of FE6′s best units. 

Binding Blade doesn’t give anyone but Roy and his harem paired endings, but there’s still a fair bit to be gleaned from their support lines, both what is in them and what isn’t. Perceval and Elffin each have supports with women, but nothing remotely romantic - Perceval’s support with Larum is particularly amusing since he clarifies that her, ahem, dancing does nothing for him. Also worth noting is that neither of them can support with Clarine, even though one would think they’d make fine romantic choices for her given their statuses and physical resemblances to her beloved brother. Their own support line is quietly intimate. Elffin has changed since his near-death experience, and Perceval is still struggling to accept that their relationship can’t be as it was, that in fact for the time being they can’t now be a knight and his prince. Perceval also frets over Elffin’s refusal to see his father the king, and he later extracts a promise from Elffin to come home to Etruria after he’s done traveling the world as a bard, in one of the series’s several instances of writing what sounds like a marriage proposal in ambiguous terms. Per Elffin’s ending, he’s only gone for a few months after the war, so their promised reunion isn’t long delayed. I’m interested to see what a remake would add to their relationship, because as it stands Perceval/Elffin has an established romance arc that deserves a paired ending or at the very least more suggestive epilogues.

Further compounding their underrated signficance, it’s not too difficult to trace a line from Perceval/Elffin to a number of other M/M pairings in the two later GBA games and in Tellius that present some variation on this theme:

As mentioned above, Raven/Lucius is physically similar and performs a nearly identical gameplay function, with the pretty blond waif again responsible for recruiting his surly but protective boyfriend from the ranks of the enemy. 

Gerik/Joshua meanwhile borrows the character of the end of their support line and turns it into a genuine paired ending, with a prince incognito recruiting a swordsman to come work for him. They being who they are however, it’s all handled a bit rougher, with Gerik being impressed by Joshua’s “swagger.” Take that as you will.

Ike/Soren may be the defining seme/uke dynamic in Tellius’s overflowing fount of queer subtext, but Tibarn/Reyson smashes that trope together with this one and FE’s power couple unit archetype plus a dash of whatever the avian equivalent of furries is for wholly unique results. Although both of them are technically royalty, only Reyson is a prince by heredity whereas Tibarn presumably became king of Phoenicis by beating the crap out of any rival contenders as most laguz prefer to do. One can therefore read shades of a courtly relationship in Tibarn’s decision to zealously take up the cause of justice for the Serenes massacre in Reyson’s place. Combine this with Reyson’s characteristic edge that even Tibarn is forced to rein in at times and their relationship comes off as surprisingly more egalitarian than the sum of its parts. Oh yeah, and blond waif dancer + premade OP unit with ludicrous physical stats and movement again.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the conflict of the Tellius games Zelgius -> Sephiran explores what would happen if a gay Camus archetype chose instead to dedicate himself to an antagonistic lord. Sure, you can still recruit Sephiran via a convoluted and unintuitive process, but Zelgius is doomed no matter what.   

They Can Say It, But They Can’t Do It: Awakening and Fates

Ugh. If I must....

I’ve made no secret of my ambivalence toward FE13 dragging the series into open acknowledgement that same-sex attraction is a thing that exists, handled as it was with a lot of explicit homoerotic denial and an assortment of cheap gay panic jokes and...whatever the hell Victor and Vincent are supposed to be. Chrom/Frederick, hot though it may potentially be in fanon, is one of those jokes, making a parody out of a knight enamored of his lord and leaving it to mean absolutely nothing since Awakening’s relationship endgame is invariably S supports for time traveling eugenics babies. FE has taken cracks at the overly dedicated knight before - see just about everything involving Kieran from Tellius, up to and including his overzealous devotion to his superior officer - but Awakening plumbs the depths of Frederick expecting Chrom’s nude image to raise the army’s morale. Just..what do you even say to that, apart from the awkward sputtering that comprises most of their support line?

FE14, for all its stumbling steps toward something less completely offensive, fares little better in this particular regard. Leo/Niles is a deeply troubled albeit thought-provoking callback to the subtextual lord/knight relationship, one where it’s hard to imagine them finding a healthy way to navigate the power differential. Then there’s Ryoma/Saizo. It’s nothing special in localization, but the never-localized festival DLC involves Saizo’s ardent desire to warm Ryoma’s clothing in his cleavage. That sounds like absolutely normal behavior for a servant and not a rehash of Frederick’s shenanigans, uh huh. Fates may indeed be said to be slightly better about playing palpable homoerotic tension for drama rather than comedy...but only slightly.

Paving the Way for an OT3: The Deliverance

This is, incidentally, yet another reason to appreciate Echoes for doing so much to redeem the 3DS games in the realm of (male) queer content. Yes, there’s a large and unaddressed divide between the openly gay and very modern Leon and the heavily subtextual faux-historical queerness of the Deliverance, but taken independently the two presentations work for what they’re each separately aiming to be. Among Clive’s gay entourage are not one but two men who’d dearly love to be the knight to his lord, and Forsyth’s strong desire to put Clive on a pedestal evokes the earlier spoofs of this kind of relationship precisely because Forsyth is that kind of vassal, the kind that would read Ribald Tales of the Faith War and cry like a heavily erect virgin bottom getting his first taste of dick at the brief interludes of tender manly love between Quan and Finn. He’s played for comedy just as much as Kieran or Frederick are, and yet Echoes comes across as less down on the concept as a whole for several reasons, being that

1) Python’s snark over Forsyth’s attraction to both Clive and Lukas is genuinely funny, much more so than when it’s the object of these affections quietly groaning his way through them,

2) Lukas is also there, and his desire to be Clive’s beloved knight is not played for comedy at all but is allowed to be unrealistic and unsatisfying because Clive will never get it,

3) everyone wants to screw Clive for some reason, not just his subordinates but also his sister and the estranged BFF who dies in his arms...and the guy is shown to be unworthy of all of them, and

4) all the characters involved are allowed other avenues for romantic attraction outside of a lord who’s just not that into them. Forsyth has Python, Lukas has both of them as friends and possibly more later, Clair has Gray (...at least he’s not her brother?), and Fernand has a bad rebound that goes to hell in the manner of Zelgius and Sephiran but at least ends with him getting to reconcile with his former friend before he dies. 

The setup for the Deliverance’s overarching queerness is a bit strange as it rests on all these characters somehow finding Clive attractive, but nonetheless it makes for an unexpected and refreshing critique of the lord and knight trope, given a situation where the lord just isn’t that into it and in fact doesn’t seem to realize that he can be into it. It’s a good reminder that this isn’t a particularly good dynamic for a stable and lasting relationship, and that as hot as it can be it takes more than impassioned one-way devotion to make it work in the long term.

The good news if you’re into this kind of relationship like I am is that it’s a trope with some life in it yet. Echoes came at it strong, and prerelease information on Three Houses suggests a few possibilities for this dynamic in that game. I’m especially keeping my eye on Dimitri and Dedue, whose relationship appears to contain echoes of the original duo of Quan and Finn. I highly doubt there will be anything on the level of S supports acknowledging this type of attraction, but I’ll settle for some suggestive A supports.

[theleafpile]

@dressedforthebills asked, in reference to the post I made stating that Solo: A Star Wars Story, is a bad movie:

What makes the writing bad? Plot? Structure? What stereotypes would that be?

So I’m just going to go over what’s fresh in my head, so there might be some pieces missing that I’m not particularly interested in. I enjoy the Star Wars movies and read a lot of fic about it, but I’m not a die-hard fan and haven’t read anything in the extended universe.

SPOILERS abound.

Rule #1 of Storytelling: Don’t tell the audience something they already know.

Solo already sort of breaks this rule simply by existing, but we could forgive that fact based on the idea that it was meant to show Han’s early years. However, this rule sticks out to me throughout. 

We know Han won the Millennium Falcon from Lando in a card game - we see two (three?) card games played. It’s difficult to be invested in a card game when you don’t understand the rules. When they lay down their cards, we have no basis of understanding if they are good or not before being shown an in-world audience reaction, which throws off the beat. (At least in most card movies there is a shot of the cards and a voice over of the dealer saying what the hand is for those who don’t know, so the audience can see the cards and hear the hand and make the connection as though they made it themselves. So that could be a simple editing issue.)

We know Han and Qi’ra don’t end up together. We have no reason to be invested in their romantic arc. I could forgive this if they did something at the end like they did at the end of Casino Royale, where the pacing was thrown off because we thought Bond was really going to leave with Vesper, only to find out that she betrayed him at the end and he vowed to go back to work (and never fall in love again). But instead, at the end of Solo, we have Solo left on a beach wondering why the fuck the ship Qi’ra is on is suddenly leaving - was she trapped? Did someone else take over? Is she a hostage again? (all perfectly acceptable canon questions that Han would ask). There’s no clear cut image or moment to show that that was a betrayal, leaving us (and Han) confused.

Rule #1 of Romance: If you have to show two characters kissing to show they’re together, it’s bad writing.

The first scene with Qi’ra and Han breaks this rule. He’s running, in a panic - there’s no reason at all why he would suddenly stop what he was doing, switch gears immediately from panic to lust, and kiss her as he did. It’s a simple and fast way to show two characters are allied, but its boring. If he saw her hiding and waiting for him, and while running took her hand and dashed them to a safer place it would have 1) established that he is confident in his surroundings enough to hide (we love experts) and 2) shown them allied anyway.

They were able to show Qi’ra and Dryden Vos allied even though they never macked on one another, which I guess was to show that Qi’ra still had feelings for Han and that she wasn’t really on Vos’ side.

Qi’ra would have been a more interesting character if she were Han’s sister, not his love interest. 

The guilt he feels for not be able to return to Corellia sooner and the worry he feels over her would have been more palpable if she were his blood relation, the only person in the world he had left and/or could trust, and the only person in the galaxy who could have actually relied on him - making seeing her on the yacht that much more of a surprise, showing that this girl who once relied on him has grown up.  

Also, it would have made a neat parallel for Leia/Luke if there was any strange sexual chemistry between Han and Qi’ra’s actors.

No idea what planet Han was on as a soldier, their objectives, or the purpose.

Which, I guess, was the same as Han felt. If confusion was the goal, they got it. In the book, I guess, they give a reason why Chewbacca was caged there, but for the movie they didn’t tell us so it just felt very, you know. Contrived.

The heist scene doesn’t make any sense.

The goal was to attach the ship to one shipping container, detach the container, and lift it away. Which means that there was no reason to blow up the bridge ahead. Which means...

Val didn’t need to die during the heist.

There was no reason to kill her character. If they were doing this job, as Beckett said, to steal a bunch of coaxium for a gangster, then being a thief she would know the risk involved (i.e., Dryden Vos would kill them if they did not return with what was asked) and not be willing to sacrifice herself in the chance that 1) their failing plan would work, 2) Beckett would survive, 3) the coaxium would survive and 4) her life was worth saving Beckett.

Which, love, I guess. But seriously she had no reason to die. And, being the only black character of the group, it was pretty shitty that killed off her and the alien pilot and not one of the two white guys. Because plot. Of course.

Coaxium is apparently super unstable when unprocessed - but it’s okay to be tossed around.

Take any high school chemistry class and the teacher’s going to tell you that unstable materials are called that for a reason. All the moving around they do getting the raw coaxium out of the mine, loading it and transporting it on the ship, and the temperature heating up to the breaking point (yet still safe enough to get onto the other world, unloaded, and stuck in a container and plugged into something that I guess immediately neutralizes it) but it’s still able to be handled, without any safety gear, by Beckett when he takes “a drop” (not a unit of measurement) and shoves it into the fuel line of the Falcon.

I mean, hell. When it is processed look at Han so carefully gives the containers over to Dryden Vos. The audience is meant to think he’s being too extra careful because we think it’s fake and he’s overdoing it, but - no. That’s how you handle very explosive processed material. I guess the “super unstable” unprocessed material is okay, though.

Stereotypes.

Seems like Hollywood can’t make a movie lately without poking fun at “SJWs.” Enter L3. Who walked, talked, and sassed like a prototypical black woman. No thanks. She did have some funny lines, but I hate how her character’s actual correct ideas were treated as the punch line. (The same problem Hermione had with the SPEW stuff in the HP books.)

Lando is vain. He has a whole closet for capes. Unfortunately we don’t get to see him be or say anything vain at all whatsoever elsewhere. 

The alien pilot at the beginning is like “I am here to state the theme and die.”

Major characterization problems - aka I don’t care about these people.

Qi’ra’s woe-is-me / you won’t look at me the same way if I’ve told you what I’ve done / you don’t know what I’ve done lines. The audience has no idea either, so I feel absolutely nothing when she says these lines. Was she a prostitute? Did she steal, lie, cheat? Did she make other people work for her? How did she get to be in Dos’ inner circle? No clue. It doesn’t make her mysterious. It makes her boring.

Enfrys Nest’s rebellion has nothing to do with rebellion against the Empire. 

Meaning I don’t care about it. That twelve year old mercenary is rebelling against the crime syndicate, which is not affiliated with the rebellion. But wait - 

There was zero indication that was Darth Maul speaking to Qi’ra.

Maul came from a planet where people just... looked like that. The actor was the same but much older, and it showed enough that I had zero inkling to think “oh, hey, that’s Darth Maul” who is a character I really liked. You know why else? Because Qi-gon Jin murdered his ass twenty years ago. I don’t think the Force can keep you alive after being sliced in half and sent down a bottomless well. That’s not how the Force works. They tried to make me think it by needlessly igniting his double bladed red lightsaber, but I was still like.. okay. Another Sith. Whatever.

Also. There’s no indication in the prequels that Darth Maul was the leader of a crime syndicate. 

Things I liked:

- Making the Kessel run. The visuals were pretty cool with the tunnel vision, the Imperial ship, and darting off into the wild unknown with the eldritch monster. Here’s a good example at telling something the audience doesn’t know: Han cheated to do the run in 12 parsecs using the coaxium, which is why no one believes that he actually did that fast. So that’s funny. (”Not if you round down” was a cute line, too.)

- The riot scene with the droids at the mine. They were having a good time.

- Chewie helping his fellow Wookies to get free, and that moment where they touched foreheads. Small character movements like those make a big difference.

- Vos’ blades. That looked like kyber power, which means that those were probably super expensive, and that’s cool characterization. 

So, no. I didn’t like Solo: A Star Wars Story. It added nothing to the characterization of Han or the Skywalker space opera universe we’ve all come to know and love. I know the prequels aren’t as beloved because of the political content, but I think a young Leia movie would’ve been a more worthwhile investment. We could have seen her on Alderran, a planet which we know nothing about, struggling with the life of being both royalty and a senator. We could’ve seen a young woman struggle to be taken seriously at her job that would have had actual in-universe repercussions for the storylines and characters we are familiar with. Yes, it could have had all the problems Solo did, but we would have known that Alderran would be blown up by the Empire, making us root for any chance we saw for characters to leave the planet (and be heartbroken when something required them to stay). 

Young Leia was feisty, not afraid to stand up to Vader (of all people), and I want an origin story for her, dammit! I’m tired of men’s stories! Honor Carrie Fisher you cowards!

[jacobpaulnielsen]

The Black Parade

Prompt: Write a 1,000-word album review of a record you’ve never heard in a genre you’re not familiar with.

I’ve always really, really hated emo music. The huge guitars and undeniable hooks are the same things that made me love a lot of bands, so I’m not entirely sure why I have such a distaste for it. The genre is famous for songs about depression, self-loathing, and heartbreak. None of these topics are out of place on a Neil Young, Smashing Pumpkins, or Radiohead record; all people that have been important to me at one time or another. And yet, something about this genre has always rubbed me the wrong way. I can't really put my finger on it. So for this assignment, I decided to challenge myself and do a deep dive into The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance.

Initially, my reaction to the album was less than stellar. I tore the album apart. I actually wrote, "On The Black Parade, My Chemical Romance tried their best to strike the right balance of music just edgy enough to appeal to suburban teens but not rebellious enough to actually provoke forward movement." Bold words coming from someone that's never sold a record, let alone written a song.

I wanted to do some research on the band before I really started writing the review in earnest, and it seemed like Life on the Murder Scene, the 2006 documentary on the band was a great place to start. I’m glad that I did. The film really changed my perception of the band and the album. I came to find out that MCR has the same narrative as the bands that were subjects of VH1's Behind the Music series. Like their predecessors, the band was plagued with the pressures of fame and drug addiction. It’s a Classic Rock story. It’s Rocket Man and Almost Famous and all of those other legends that follow the same classic rock mythos that inspired us to want to take over the world when we were kids.

So on this review, I challenged myself to find out how The Black Parade fits into the mythical schema of what's been dubbed "classic rock," because - like it or not - it does.

With 2006’s The Black Parade, My Chemical Romance created a Classic Rock masterpiece. Considering that Classic Rock as a genre mostly stopped progressing in the early to mid-80s, this might be a strange concept. However, the elements that make Classic Rock so pervasive in American music are all found on this record, too. It’s not a stretch to say that My Chemical Romance is the natural evolution of established and accepted Classic Rock artists like Kiss or Alice Cooper. MCR fans would probably shudder at the idea of their favorite band being lumped into the same category as bands that their parents listened to, but the similarities are striking: mythical lyrics, dramatic stage shows, power ballads, and - most importantly - mystery. Their image of a goth band gone punk evokes the same feelings that captivated teenagers when Kiss released Destroyer in 1976. And the image worked - their major-label debut was certified platinum just a year after its release. In his book Twilight of the Gods, Steven Hyden defines classic rock as “a particular era of music signified by bands who may or may not be shitty”. This definition is important if we’re going to consider The Black Parade for Classic Rock canon. There is a definitive line that can be drawn between Classic Rock as a genre and a classic rock album. The Velvet Underground & Nico is a classic rock album, whereas Bad Company is a Classic Rock album. Furthermore, there are recurring themes within the Classic Rock genre that appear throughout all of the essential Classic Rock albums. Let’s take a look at three of those essential elements of Classic Rock and see how The Black Parade measures up.

Grandiose Lyrics About Heartbreak, Love, Death, and Youth

“Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more”

Kansas. The band responsible for hits such as “Point of Know Return,” and “Dust in the Wind,” are one of several bands that came to embody Classic Rock. Given this definition and the ambiguous use of their music in Will Farrell movies, Kansas could very well be the defining Classic Rock band. Despite how “shitty” (as Hyden so lovingly puts it) Kansas is, we love them to this day. According to Louder Than Sound, Carry on Wayward Son was the number one song on classic rock radio in 1997. Since then it’s logged more than two million downloads.

But why?

These aren’t politically conscious lyrics. There’s no hidden meaning here. There’s no call for peace or change. These are just lyrics that, quite simply, feel good to sing out loud at a concert with fellow fans. The words just create this feeling of belonging. The same is true for the (almost) title track of The Black Parade. This is a song that was made to be played in front of a crowd.

One of the great things about Classic Rock is that the lyrics really seem to be made for the fans. They’re the right words sang in the right cadence. That’s it. These are words that just sing well. As a result, it’s really the fans that interpret the lyrics and ultimately take ownership of them. So when you take these lyrics from “Welcome to the Black Parade,” it’s obvious that Gerard Way didn’t actually have this conversation with his dad at a parade. Real people don’t talk like that. But damn those lyrics do make you feel some kind of way, don’t they?

Call to Arms

The Call to Arms is a song that asks the fans to get together and stand for something. It’s a song that says “let’s go take over the world.” A true Call to Arms, as it relates to the Classic Rock genre isn’t a zeitgeist, but the opaque lyrics do have a sense of urgency about them. More than any other song, these are the ones that give the fans a sense of identity and community. It’s a war cry. It’s a song that you would put on your workout playlist or you’d hear at a hockey game. It’s Immigrant Song, Seven Nation Army, and We Will Rock You. In the case of MCR, it’s Teenagers.

Teenagers, it’s probably the best example of a straightforward Classic Rock song on the album. Guitarist Ray Toro begins the song with a typical E minor blues riff before the whole band locks in with Bob Bryar’s classic beat and the song erupts. On the Live in Mexico DVD, their touring keyboardist even accompanies them with a very Stones-y piano part. And is that a cowbell Bob is playing during the breakdown? It’s a testament to the band’s bravery that they wrote a song like this in the first place. It’s a testament to their talent that it actually worked; it’s a staple in their set fourteen years later.

The Concept Album

It started in 1967 with Sgt. Pepper and it still continues to this day. It’s not surprising, given Gerard Way’s love of comic books and horror films, that he was drawn to the idea of a concept album. Originally titled The Rise and Fall of My Chemical Romance, this record opened up a whole world of possibilities for MCR. Given how the concept album lends itself to a particularly theatrical nature (see The Wall), it suddenly made sense for My Chemical Romance to integrate theatrics into the live performances supporting the album. Donned in black marching band uniforms and makeup for the tour, the live performances of songs from this album were like a marriage between David Bowie and Alice Cooper.

True Classic Rock artists are not merely people. They are Greek Gods. I’m finishing this post on the heels on Neil Peart’s death, of which Taylor Hawkins wrote “Neil Peart had the hands of God. End of Story.” Peart isn’t the first Classic Rocker to be compared to God, nor will he be the last. The genre is absolutely drenched in mystique, folklore, and larger than life stories of how the Gods came to be and the creations they made. Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil. Paul McCartney died and the Beatles told us about it. Led Zeppelin recorded their legendary fourth album in a haunted mansion. Not unlike their heroes, My Chemical Romance has draped all that they do in as much mystique as the 21st century can allow. Not unlike The Spiders from Mars, My Chemical Romance often performed under the name The Black Parade. And not unlike Kiss, the band performed in costume. The cryptic announcements surrounding MCR’s reunion shows and the impending new album has caused hysteria among their fans. It can’t be more clear that their vast and devoted fanbase considers them absolute superheroes - and that’s really the whole of what truly makes a band a Classic Rock band. If classic rock was what you were looking for in 2006, you could find it alive and well with My Chemical Romance.

[ismael37olson]

It Was Great When It All Began

What does a theatre company owe to our art form, and to the people who love our art form? Thoughtfulness and artistry. Those of us making theatre, those of us given the great honor of being the storytellers, we all need to respect the material, and not impose our own agenda upon it. I've seen so many productions that "bring something new" to an already brilliant show by misunder­standing and short-circuiting what the show is really about, and imposing upon it a nonsensical period, setting, or other High Concepts Por ejemplo... Rocky Horror has to be set in the early 1970s because it's really specifically about how Americans reacted to the Sexual Revolution of the late 60s and 70s. Tommy has to be set in post-World War II London, because it's really specifically about Western Civilization finding itself spiritually lost after the war, while drowning in postwar conspicuous consumption. When you change the setting of these stories, either explicitly or through set and costume design (the biggest warning sign is the random use of Steampunk), you betray the work, its authors, your audience, and our art form. We may see resonance in The Rocky Horror Show for our own times, but the more specifically it lives in the seventies, the easier it can serve as a metaphor for today, allowing us to stand back from our own times and see them objectively. Frank is presented as a glam rock star because that was the only period of rock and roll during which gender was both fluid and irrelevant (the same reason Hedwig, of The Angry Inch fame, finds her home in that subgenre). The dissolution of gender roles was one of the things straight America feared the most during the Sexual Revolution. Frank’s lack of clear gender is his real monstrosity, which is why it’s always a mistake for productions to re-imagine Frank as anything other than a glam rocker. It's not just about drag; it's about gender in our culture. To take the seventies and its issues out of Rocky Horror both emasculates it and short-circuits its social satire. No one working on the 2000 Broadway revival seemed to notice that the leather and S&M themes in the costumes went exactly opposite to O’Brien’s original intentions of innocent, campy, goofy sexuality. Rocky Horror is not soft porn; it’s a satiric cartoon of sexuality at a particularly clumsy time and place in American history. But director Christopher Ashley and his designers didn’t understand that. Only the Wall Street Journal could still see Rocky’s smarts behind all the distractions, and its reviewer Amy Gamerman wrote, “The carnival atmosphere of The Rocky Horror Show is so enveloping that it takes awhile before you notice how clever the show itself is – a smartly calibrated blend of salty, sweet and sarcastic, with its pierced tongue lodged firmly in its cheek.”

Rocky is a brilliant, insightful social document, and the directors and actors who don't get that are missing everything that's really wonderful about the show. After all, modern-day Puritans weren’t the only ones who thought the Sexual Revolution was a bad thing. Others disliked it because they felt this new movement took all the mystery and magic – and most important, the romance – out of sex. In Rocky Horror, Eddie’s song “Whatever Happened to Saturday Night?”(aka “Hot Patootie”) addresses this issue of how the hippie movement and the Sexual Revolution "ruined" everything. There’s even a reference to the change (for the worse, in Eddie’s opinion) in American pop culture and music, away from the romance of 1950s rock and roll, and toward the politics and disenfranchisement and nihilism of 1960s acid rock, embodied in the image of rock icon Buddy Holly’s premature death. This song is far from the pointless interruption of the show that some people claim. You'll always look foolish if you condemn Grease, Hair, ot Rocky Horror as empty-headed silliness. Just because you may not see the substance doesn't mean it's not there... Eddie’s song is a pointed commentary on the way the Sexual Revolution (in the person of Frank) was changing sex and romance in America (in the person of Columbia), a last, metaphorical stab at stopping the tide of the Sexual Revolution, and a final warning as the show’s first half comes to a close that Brad and Janet’s world is gone. Frank and the Sexual Revolution are too strong, and they silence forever the simplicity and purity of 50s rock and romance through Frank’s act of murdering Eddie, in effect also shutting the door forever on Brad and Janet’s old-fashioned world of sexual innocence.

This is also a theme addressed, though more subtly, in the show’s opening, “Science Fiction Double Feature.” A close reading of this lyric shows a real longing for the innocence of the 1950s, when sex was all subtext and metaphor. The song starts by taking us back to that idealized time when movies told Americans what was good and bad, right and wrong, acceptable and “deviant.” And they told us all this very carefully and indirectly. But subtextual sexuality couldn’t stay hidden forever. Rock and roll would emerge, alongside drive-in movies, and these forces would change sex forever. Which is the central through-line of Grease, by the way. This opening song in Rocky Horror sets up the central conflict of the show, though like the movies it celebrates, it does so subtly. It positions open, overt sexuality as not just a threat, but also a despoiler of the innocent, sweet, teen sexuality of the 1950s, a kind of innocence that existed more on the screen than in the back row of the local movie house. In this song, O’Brien is talking about the very center of the culture of the fifties: the nexus of sex, drive-ins, and rock and roll, the forces that were changing America in profound ways. And a big part of the drive-in experience was low-budget science fiction, often in double features. “Science Fiction Double Feature” is O’Brien’s statement of purpose. This will be a story about the (false) moral perfection of the 1950s as it slams up against the wild explorations of the Sexual Revolution, here rendered "in the back row." Rocky Horror explored American sexual hang-ups, the excesses of the Sexual Revolution, and the sometimes cruel myth of the American Dream. It used as its vocabulary pop culture icons like Charles Atlas and muscle magazines, Frederick’s of Hollywood, old sci-fi movies with scantily clad women, horror movies with barely sublimated sexual fantasies, glam rock with its blurring of gender lines – all icons that represented the history of Americans hiding sex behind other things.

And perhaps it’s Rocky’s underlying condemnation of America’s sexual puritanicalism and hypocrisy that keeps the show relevant today. Rocky satirizes sex in America by personifying in Brad and Janet the two responses American society had toward the sexual revolution of the 1960s and 70s, and the revolution itself personified by the gender-vague, pansexual Frank N. Furter. In the real world, half of America (Brad) responded to the Sexual Revolution by fighting even harder than before to stop the progression of sexual freedom, to demonize homosexuality, to condemn sexual independence in women, to blame all of America’s ills on sex, to brand (or rebrand) otherwise healthy expressions of sexuality as dirty and inappropriate. The other half of America (Janet) responded with an almost manic sexual celebration and a kind of aggressive experimentation that today may seem outrageous. Both reactions in the real world probably made the early stages of the AIDS pandemic worse than it should have been. And Rocky Horror rightly satirizes both reactions. Both sides went too far. You can't transplant this story to another cultural context. The Rocky Horror Show is about a time in America when our nation stood at a crossroads. Sexual oppression was ending (or at least, beginning to fade) and America had to decide how it would move forward. But neither the people who celebrated this new era or the people terrified by it acted responsibly; neither side caused AIDS, but both sides helped it spread. Of course, Rocky Horror is not about AIDS, but it is about consequences. It was written in 1973, but it is about sexual politics in America then and now. Watching it today, we can see a moment in time when it wasn’t yet too late, when the devastation of a generation of innocent men and women should not have been inevitable. We can love the music, laugh at the jokes, and sing along with “The Time Warp,” but we should never forget that Rocky Horror is about something. Something very specific.

You wouldn't set Grease in the 80s (although the 1994 revival tried), so don't don't do it to Rocky. It's not just a sex farce or a drag show. Why some directors feel the need to impose a "vision" or a metaphor on shows is beyond me. Just tell the fucking story. And this story is about America in the early 1970s, a moment so sui generis there is no adequate substitute. So let's do "The Time Warp" again and again, but let's leave the leather harness at home. Long Live the Musical! Scott from The Bad Boy of Musical Theatre http://newlinetheatre.blogspot.com/2017/10/it-was-great-when-it-all-began.html

[beyondforks]

Playing Catch Up! Walk the Edge by Katie McGarry

Playing Catch Up has really been helping me through my ever growing TBR list. I'd like to welcome all other blogs to participate too! If you do, be sure to post your links in the comments section. I'd love to see your Playing Catch Up Reviews, and I'm sure others would too!! *wink*

Want to know more about Playing Catch Up? I'll tell you all about it here!

Walk the Edge (Thunder Road #2) by Katie McGarry Genre: Young Adult (Contemporary Romance) Date Published: March 29, 2016 Publisher: Harlequin Teen

Smart. Responsible. That's seventeen-year-old Breanna's role in her large family, and heaven forbid she put a toe out of line. Until one night of shockingly un-Breanna-like behavior puts her into a vicious cyber-bully's line of fire—and brings fellow senior Thomas "Razor" Turner into her life. Razor lives for the Reign of Terror motorcycle club, and good girls like Breanna just don't belong. But when he learns she's being blackmailed over a compromising picture of the two of them—a picture that turns one unexpected and beautiful moment into ugliness—he knows it's time to step outside the rules. And so they make a pact: he'll help her track down her blackmailer, and in return she'll help him seek answers to the mystery that's haunted him—one that not even his club brothers have been willing to discuss. But the more time they spend together, the more their feelings grow. And suddenly they're both walking the edge of discovering who they really are, what they want, and where they're going from here. 

Walk the Edge is the second book in the Thunder Road series by Katie McGarry. This is Razor and Breanna's story. Breanna is smart. I mean super smart, and she's never felt like she fit in anywhere. Not even with her family. Razor doesn't trust the Reign of Terror. They haven't told him everything involving the death of his mother, so, naturally this causes him to doubt them. Yet, they insist that he trust them anyway. That wouldn't be a possible thing for anyone. Together, Breanna and Razor form a partnership of sorts. It's funny, because with the first book, I didn't like the Reign of Terror in the beginning, then they grew on me. By the end, they won me over. I followed the same pattern in this book too. There are just so many mysteries and secrets the Reign of Terror keeps from one another. Wouldn't it be easier if they were up front with those they love from the start? Hmm. Despite that, Breanna and Razor are completely lovable. Both of these characters were fully fleshed out, and I got completely lost in their lives. Their emotions were raw, and the romance was steamy, but not overboard. It's a rare second book that is better than the first in a series, but this one definitely is, in my opinion. And, I liked the first book quite a bit. So, that's saying something. I can't wait to get my hands on the next book!

There are certain common-sense rules all girls in town comprehend. It's not knowledge that has to be taught. In fact, sitting here on the top step to the entrance of my high school and watching this potential disaster unfold, I search my memory for the first person who mentioned I should stay clear of the Reign of Terror Motorcycle Club. Because when it pertains to the threat that is the Reign of Terror MC, it's not learned, it's known. Like how an infant understands how to suck in a breath at the moment of birth or how a newborn foal wobbles to his legs. It's instinctual. It's ingrained. It's fact. "Do you think his motorcycle will work this time?" Addison asks. "Hope so," I breathe out, too terrified to speak at a normal level out of fear that we'll draw the scrutiny of the men wearing black leather vests circling the broken-down bike. Reign of Terror arches over the top of the black vest; in the middle is a half skull with far too much fire in and around it. It's ominous and I shiver. It's edging toward nine in the evening, but the August sun hasn't completely set. Darkness, though, has claimed most of the sky. Temperatures during the afternoon hit over a hundred and I swear the concrete stairs and pillar absorbed every ounce of today's sunshine and are now transferring the heat onto my body. Sweat rolls down my back and I shift to peel my thighs off the step. Why I thought it was a fantastic idea to wear a jean skirt, I have no idea. I take that back. I do have an idea. Tonight is the first time my entire grade has been together in one room since the end of last year. My goal for the year may seem simple to some, but to me, it sometimes feels impossible. I'd like to be seen, to be known as something more than "freakishly smart Breanna Miller" at least once before I leave this town. I'd like to somehow find the courage to be on the outside who I am on the inside. An annoying sixth sense informs me that I'm about to make a huge impression—on the evening news. Two friends on the verge of starting their senior year vanish without a trace. Because that's how motorcycle clubs would handle this—they'll kidnap us and then hide our bodies after they're finished with whatever ritual act they'll use us to perform. One of the gang members stands from his crouched position at the motorcycle and the guy we attend school with inserts a key and holds on to the handlebar of the bike. As he twists it, I pray the motor will purr to life. My heart leaps, then plummets past my toes and into the ground when the motorcycle cuts off with a sound similar to a gunshot. Addison's head falls forward, and I bite my lip to prevent the internal screaming from becoming external chaos. Addison pulls her phone out of her purse and taps the screen. "I'm texting Reagan. If we go missing, I'm telling her to point the finger at Thomas Turner and his band of Merry Men." Thomas Turner. He's the guy that swore loudly the moment his motorcycle's engine died again. Thomas is the name called on the first day of school by our teachers, but it's not the name he responds to. He goes by his "road name," Razor. He glances over his shoulder straight at me and my mouth dries out. Holy hell, it's like he's aware I'm thinking of him. "Oh my God," Addison reprimands. "Don't make eye contact. Do you want them to come over?" I immediately focus on my sandals. As much as every girl knows to keep a safe distance from Thomas and his crew, we've all snuck a glimpse. Thomas makes it easy to cave to temptation with his golden blond hair and muscles from head to toe, and he owns this sexy brooding expression a few girls have written about in poems. My cheeks burn and there's this heaviness as if Thomas is still looking. Through lowered lashes, I peek at him and my heart trips when our eyes meet. His eyes are blue. An icy blue. His stare causes me to be simultaneously curious and terrified. And I obviously have a death wish because I can't tear my gaze away…

KATIE MCGARRY was a teenager during the age of grunge and boy bands and remembers those years as the best and worst of her life. She is a lover of music, happy endings, and reality television, and is a secret University of Kentucky basketball fan. To learn more about Katie McGarry and her books, visit her website.You can also find her on Goodreads, Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and Twitter.

[oneviewbytwowomen]

By: Mary

About: Philippa Gregory

Disclaimer: the book we took these quotations for had been translated. While we translated it back to English, it is possible that it does not match the original word for word."

"(...) we remained holding hands, our faces livid, as if all of that was but a nightmare, with letters scorched in fire what happens to a woman that owns her own destiny. I am here to watch what happens to a woman that thinks she knows more than men."

Since this will be my first post, I feel like I have to start with the mandatory introductions. So, hello! As you probably know, we'll be writing about woman made books, preferably about woman.

Ok. Cool. Let's go, because I'm itching to talk about this topic - one of the reasons this blog got started. It was a long time coming, really.

Philippa Gregory is a British historian (and, obviously, writer), who writes about the British royal family line. Her works go from the war of the cousins until the end of the Elizabethan era - at least the ones I know of.

She retells stories that we have all learned in school from the point of view from the women of that time period. So, instead of suffering through another analyses of Henry VIII thoughts and actions, we have the story of Catharine of Aragon and Anna of Cleves. Instead of yet another story about how Richard the III was an evil crooked little man, we have the story of Anne Neville, the daughter of the Kingmaker and Richard's wife.

Such stories not only have value as romances (which they all are, by the way. Good ones too). They offer us insights about the life of people who had to be silent and proper and not to stand out. The birth dates of woman were not recorded at the time, just of men. To stand out would be to risk being accused of grievous sins and sent to a life of solitude. Or worse, convicted of witchcraft. And yet, these women were the ones that held the country when the men left for war, and it was their advice that shaped generations. And yet, it is their life's that keep being forgotten.

I not only admire Philippa Gregory because she is a woman who can write incredibly well. But because she helps remember that while the story has always been written by men and about men, it is time for that attitude to change.

So many times we see people saying that women made no impact on History, that they were completely submissive or whatever they are calling it now. The truth is, we're not mentioned in recorded history. At least until now. Until amazing historians provide the receipts.

So you can imagine my absolute shock and great annoyance when someone who called themselves feminists said that these books have no real value, that they were no better than 50 Shades of Grey.

Just a note: this blog has absolutely nothing against erotic novels - when they are well written and do not teach women to accept men like Christian Grey. Should you need examples of good books in the category, hit us up.

But to say that these books, that bring forth the lives of so many people men's History would rather forget, have no literary value? That they were equivalent to one of the worst written books in recorded history? Are you kidding me?!

There is this undercurrent of thought that says that books directed at a female audience, especially romance books (ex: Jane Austin) are worth less than their "manly" equivalents (ex: Salinger). To say that a book needs sorrow and twists and, quite frankly, depressive themes to be considered good is one of the most pretentious views people can have (well, usually). I have read Gatsby and Catcher in the Rye and so many books that the academia considered "of value". That is considered "high literature", or the "classics" ( at least in the U.S). I have also read Dickens and Victor Hugo (...)

To clarify: I'm not saying any of those works are bad. But let's stop trying to appear knowledgeable and wise and let's be honest: Pride and Prejudice or Philippa Gregory's books are works that have just as much value as the ones above.

But that's a rant for another day.

If you have never read any of Philippa Gregory's works, you should probably start with either The White Queen (the first chronologically) or The Constant Princess, about Katherine of Aragon  (the first to be published).

This has been a very rushed first post, due to the fact that I'm still raging at the world.

If you need any other help with Philippa Gregory's works (they are many!), please feel free to contact us by comments or private message.

"Everyone had already decided that it was a image of the king (...) everyone had already decided that she was a witch, a tion to the fire. once more, I am watching the most powerful men of the kingdom rule over a woman that has done nothing more than to live by the will of her own heart, than to see with her own eyes. But it is not about the will of men so it could not be tolerated. They kill her for it."

All the love, Mary.