#a queer person or true genuine adoration and appreciation for him and a person

[gaykey]

morning! ✌🏽

@ that anon in my inbox, who sent me the lovely message today - hi. i thought it was something nice when i read the first few lines lol.

i was gonna post some loooong ass repsonse to your message, but then thought....why? it's gonna clog up my blog, and you've already made up your mind about what kind of person i am, so what could i even say? y'know?

though, like, if you ever wanna come to me in dms, off anon, and actually have a concersation, that'd be great.

otherwise, go and bother one of the many other people you say are also hypocritical, performative and disengenuious, for liking bl/firstkhao, but unstanning key.

bye!

[katamiss]

Why can't queer heros be with queer heros. Like every single hero who is queer in DC is with a civilian, Tim drake, and Benard jon kent with Jay even Kate Kane was with a civilian. It was the commissioner, so at least she knew about the vigilante stuff, but you get my point.

Now I do adore these relationships and find the civilian x hero to be fun, but i also think it can be so messy and to me doesnt always feel genuine, like you love this person but your hiding a major part about you (and putting them in danger) . Some civilian relationships do work, but why does every single queer relationship have to be with a "non main character". Who we don't get to truly see in other comics or in their own comics

I just want queer heros to be with queer heros It's like Dick grayson can be with Kori and Baraba, and batman can be thrown at every hero who is a woman ever but never queer heros they are always with civilians.

And maybe that's because DC is too scared to make "too" many queer heros but it just feels so sad that we can't get all the fun, messy and sad tropes that come with a hero x hero relationship with all these wonderful queer characters

The only version we kinda have is harley and ivy which is good and I think we all appreciate but there is so many other confirmed queer charachters who are heros and not villains (anti heros now i believe though) I want so true heros to be queer I don't want our main queer charachters to be villains like it always is in all media

Why can't Tim and Kon date or Jon and Damien. Or idk wonderwoman since she's canonically bisexual but god forbid we let that woman date any woman. Let dick grayson be officially queer since he's on every single DC pride poster. Let him date a man. Or let Stephanie Brown be officially bisexual like many people, and even writers see her as and let her date Cass because people also see her as queer. Honestly, there are so many other charachters that I personally don't quite know well enough to write on. But either way, can we just please have queer heroes date other queer heros instead of being stuck in this shitty loop of Lgbtq heros can never be with other lgbtq heros

(If there are any hero x hero that are queer that I am uninformed about, please do tell me I would love to read about them and be proven wrong)

[dastardlydandelion]

my thoughts on fear street 1666 now that i finished scrubbing all the toilets, got to go home and watch it

holy shit. that movie. wow. 

it wasn’t as fun as the other two. didn’t employ the same campy tropes. didn’t present itself in a flourish of period typical style. while i enjoyed the first two films paying homage to classic horror tropes and making the most of the stylish side of their respective environments, i am v grateful and relieved that 1666 *wasn’t* as fun as the other two and actually presented the horror of puritan fanaticism and witch accusations more srsly. imo it portrayed that grave, twisting dread that the subject matter calls for. i appreciate that bc i think i would’ve been uncomfortable if they attempted to do smth more campy with the time period given what we already knew abt the circumstances of sarah’s death even before the film. 

more of me blathering on and on abt fear street 1666 under the cut: 

the twist actually worked on me this time. they actually got me on this one, u guys. i rly watched this franchise believing sarah fier was possessing ppl and wreaking her vengeance on the town, but this whole time it was the fuckin’ goodes. nick, i never liked u, i think ur more interesting than i did before before when u were a generic as generic gets asshole, so now ur somewhat more interesting but even bigger of an asshole than i gave u credit for. ur literally the worst asshole of assholes, ur a walking infected hemorrhoidal rectum of a human being. 

don’t get me wrong, i always thought sarah was going to be portrayed sympathetically. i never doubted that. my theory was that sarah was going to be a sympathetic villain. i thought 1666 would’ve revealed why she cursed shadyside. i figured she would’ve cursed her townsfolk for turning their backs on her, maybe, or hurting/killing hannah, or using her for her witchcraft and then getting angry if it backfired on them, or smth like that. i thought we were going to watch a story abt sarah’s descent into darkness and while she’d defo be a tragic villain, she rly would be the person behind the possessions...but it wasn’t even her. she and hannah were just vulnerable to the town’s suspicion and persecution bc they were queer women who didn’t behave the way society wanted them to behave. and they were blamed for evil actually wrought by heterosexual men in power, and when sarah realized there was no way out of it, she took the blame upon herself so hannah was spared and she cursed only the goode family?? 

THAT IS SO MUCH BETTER. FUCK. THAT IS SUCH A BETTER STORY. kudos to this trilogy for being more intelligent than it ever had to be, when it could’ve just skated on the notoriety of the fear street series, the style, and billing notable cast members. 

so yeh, i defo 100% appreciated the goode men from wealthy sunnyvale being revealed as the true villains. i actually got my wish of nick getting killed in the face. i love that sarah possessed deena to do it herself!!! and deena!! oh man, i love deena so much. she was wearing a homebrew vest to protect herself made of fear street novels + duct tape, u gotta love it. ig she wanted to prepare herself since sam stabbed her at the end of 1994. on that note, she’s v active in this film for someone who has a fresh abdominal stab wound and i mean, the situation defo calls for it, but i hope she remembered to properly dress it and take a couple ibuprofen or smth. shit, i’m gettin distracted again. okay!! 

i loved errything that went down in the mall. i adore that josh and adult ziggy got more time to shine. i was so! so! happy at martin’s inclusion on the action. he deserved that after the way nick treated him in 1994. our occupations are also p similar so i defo relate to martin on that front. i loved it all the neon and blacklight stuff at the mall. that part was v stylish, that was p cool. spraying the killers with the blood so they kill each other!! yes! that was perfect!! it was incredibly practical and enjoyable for me, as a gore fan, to watch. 

i liked the sticky note on the wall at the end from deena and josh’s dad, that he had a job interview. i wonder if this is bc the curse of shadyside has been lifted with the end of the goodes?? 

yk, i feel like now knowing what we know abt the actual evil, i gotta wonder how much re-watch value there is to be gleaned from this trilogy. for example, in 1978, nick liked ziggy and didn’t want her to die. he performed cpr on her even tho she’d been stabbed a fuck ton of times and tbvh, the chances of success of resuscitation depending on what exactly it is was ziggy succumbed to seem v slim. at first i attributed this to a suspension of disbelief bc this is fiction (and to be fair crazy do happen sometimes irl, ykw, sometimes reality can surprise u) BUT now i’m sittin here like...was the cpr successful bc nick’s deal with the devil gave him the power to do that?? did his bargaining of others’ souls and offering them up for possession grant him the ability to have some control in that situation somehow? at least more than a normal human being should?? idk. it’s a thought. 

what else, what else? 

i feel like outta the three, 1666 had the most tension overall. i was p gosh darn emo abt the relationships. deena and sam’s relationship i’ve cared abt since the beginning but the contrast of them getting the opportunity to have it and be together, in parallel to the way sarah and hannah’s ended just moves u. or, it moved me at least. sarah tells hannah they’ll go somewhere and kiss in broad daylight before kissing her in almost total darkness, and then the film ends on deena and sam kissing in the sun. i was also glad deena and josh’s sibling relationship got touched on a lil bit more. thought it was cute that she tried to cook for him and produced smth that just dead ass looks inedible. i also thought it was sweet that ziggy reunited with nurse lane. she can do that now, she can leave her house without fearing the return of the curse, and she deserves it. <3

i’m impressed with the trilogy overall. each movie easily could’ve been an r-rated goosebumps episode and imo all were certainly better than that. i feel like each film was better than the previous, but personally enjoyed each one. some things were p predictable but i think much of that is intentional. 1994 and 1978 were clearly paying homage to classic slashers and familiar horror tropes. i personally didn’t find the predictability off-putting bc i recognized what they were trying to do, and felt the quality in the other elements made up for it. i was genuinely shocked by the actual villain reveal, i personally didn’t predict that. again, i always thought sarah was going to be sympathetic and i never liked nick at all, but i didn’t suspect sarah was just. dead ass *not* going to be a villain or that he was going to be the big bad. 

really dug the style of these films. loved that we got an interracial lesbian couple who made it thru the trilogy without either the predatory lesbian trope or the byg trope happening. i liked most of the characters we got to know and the only character who *rly* grated on my nerves was the villain who got stabbed in the eye. 

gosh, i want more fear street movies!! if i had to pick one outta any of the slashers featured, i’d want to see ruby lane’s story. i would like to see this production team milking the most outta the environment in the 50s, the style of the 50s, music, and whatnot. i enjoyed nurse lane even tho she was super bad at murder, so it’d be cool to see her again and who she was before her daughter got possessed and killed 7 ppl. also, ruby sings when she kills?? 

that’s weird and creepy and neat. totally down for it. 

[sohmaluver]

let's stay together! (2) 

time for part two!! today we're starting the zodiac :)

yuki sohma is by far one of my favorite characters in this series. not because of what was, but what could have been.

yuki grew up an excluded child, not only because of his illness but because of his mother giving most control to akito once he hit a certain age. the constant verbal and physical abuse from akito where she would lock him in a dark room for days on end forced yuki into a quiet shell. this is what gave yuki his “soft” demeanor that he uses with his prince front.

although heading up the zodiac, yuki does not actually fit into the characteristics of the rat. people born under the rat are ambitious, charming, talkative, and serious to name a few traits. yuki CAN fit these when he puts up his prince front. for a large chunk of his life yuki avoided friends and contact, and would only interact with people IF THEY INTERACTED WITH HIM FIRST. this is a huge thing to note his front and “kindness” were fake. (this is mainly going off of how yuki perceives himself, i don't think that yuki's kindness is fake.)

things genuinely take a turn for the better in his life once tohru enters. for a while, his front is still there, which i partially think was done because yuki was unsure how to establish himself as either a friend or love interest. i think a major part of this is yuki wanting to present himself as a man and act upon the fact that tohru is a pretty girl his age and it "only makes sense" for him to be attracted to her/want a relationship with her. (of course, tohru is the first woman in his life to genuinely care for him so obviously, it turned into motherly love.) but it really isn't until we have great scenes like him laughing at the hot spring after tohru misses the ball in ping pong that we finally see the REAL yuki.

we see this even further when we hit season two and FINALLY, GET THE STUDENT COUNCIL (YAYAYAY) !! this group of unique and comedic characters brings out a whole new exasperation in yuki. it's so refreshing to see genuine reactions from him because he is trying to have actual relationships with people now. emphasis on the fact that he is trying. with his past, it makes sense for him to be such an introverted person. he doesn't feel that he is deserving of relationships when akito made him feel so frail and worthless, taking advantage of him in his weakest state as a child.

this is also what is so beautiful with his relationship with machi. as the prince of the school, yuki is used to constantly hearing how he "deserves the world" or "is so perfect" ect ect... which is something he did lack hearing at home. in contrast, machi never said anything like that about him. she basically called him bland, which for some reason, he appreciated more. yuki is such an interesting character in that way where you would think he would need some extra praise because of his childhood, yet maybe you would argue he wouldn't want to hear it at all because of the fan club at school. my two cents is that yuki just wants to be treated normally!! growing up it was the constant abuse from akito that he "needed her to survive", at school, it's constant attention and adoration; with kyo, it's being the perfect rat. yuki just wanted to be normal. machi treated him normally, even slightly less, which made him fall in love with her. (they're both such messes, i love them.)

now here's "the what could have been:" yuki is arguably one of the most queer-baited characters in anime. as much as i love his relationship with machi, the chemistry was always with kakeru and other male characters. it would have added so much to his development especially after he went from a “potential love interest” for tohru to after he understood his true love for her was more of motherly love. i could argue that yuki lacked SO much potential as a character because he ended up straight. if he ended up with a male character i think it would have made soo much more sense after watching him grow with tohru. (LIKE THINK OF THE SCENE ON THE BEACH WHERE ITS JUST YUKI AND TOHRU LIKE CMON WOULD HAVE BEEN A PERFECT OPPORTUNITY TO HAVE HIM COME OUT TOO.) regardless, i do love yuki and his character was the first to catch my interest when i started watching the original fruits basket back in 6th grade.

i DO highly suggest all of you check out the president perfect animatic on youtube!! it's by emirichu with the song covered by Caleb Hyles. its a beautiful AU and depicts my thoughts on yuki quite perfectly. :)

in conclusion, yuki is really battling a lot. from trying to repair broken relationships with his brother (which i will discuss in ayame's post) to being envious of kyo, to where he stands romantically.

(i apologize now that this is a little all over the place, i just have a lot to say lol. the rest of this series will have talking points!)

songs:

last words of a shooting star - mitski

pluto projector - rex orange county

grow as we go - ben platt

everything i wanted - billie eilish

president perfect - caleb hyles

i love you so - the walters

nobody - mitski

if i'm being honest - dodie

this december - ricky montgomery

i’ve added a link to my yuki playlist too!

[do-y0u-have-to-let-it-linger]

EXT. The Roof (Winter) - Sunset

Not Just Attracted to Women!Peter Maximoff x Fem and Not Just Attracted to Men!Reader

Based off of a dream I recently had: Peter and Y/N have a conversation on the roof of Xavier's in mid-December. Peter accidentally lets it slip that he might not be straight, and he is afraid that Y/N will think less of him because of it because this is the 80s. Y/N reveals that she is also not straight, and is saddened by the fact that Peter could think that she could ever hate him- especially for that. She calls him wonderful. Feelings ensue. Also, a touch of Cherik at the end because I give the people what they want.

Warnings: Swearing, Peter cries, internalized homophobia (this is the 80s-ish and Peter uses the word 'queer' in a kind of incorrect and kind of offensive manner, but it was internalized homophobia and not actually intended to be mean to anyone but himself so I forgive him), a touch of angst but mostly fluff, Charles called you two "children" even though you are obviously not, Erik is happy that his son has someone that cares about him the way you do, Peter is insecure but not super blunt about it, Peter has been deprived of being adored his entire life, bad writing, I mention a serial killer twice, historical inaccuracy because the word queer was still a slur so yeah.

A/N: This is literally the first thing I have ever written so please be nice to me, I wrote this instead of an essay. I would love a comment of any kind, even if it's just a heart emoji or something, and constructive criticism would be highly appreciated. Also 'N/N' stands for nick-name.

(Ok, so, full discloser: the format is odd. The bullet points represent dialogue, and the only dialogue is between you two love birds. The first bullet point is Peter, the second is Y/N, the third is Peter, and so on.)

“I dunno, the whole ‘liking people’ thing has always been weird for me.”

“How do you mean?"

“Pppffftt- 'how do you mean,' what are you, Shakespeare or somethin’?”

“Yeah, because that’s the era when ‘how do you mean' would have been a popular term. Ok, what do you mean?”

“Just- when other people were liking people I never really was?”

He was gesturing wildly and avoiding eye contact, as always. He wasn't uncomfortable with eye contact, he just got bored easily in conversations, he needed to keep himself occupied. In this situation that meant staring at the red and green lights covering the rest of the roof, the snowy trees all over the yard, and a holly garland around the gate. Peter wasn't Christian, but man, did he love their Christmas decorations.

“Like… now? In school?”

“Well- yeah… but also when I was younger. And I never liked the right people? Or... liked them in the right way?”

“So you’ve never liked anyone.”

“No, no… I definitely have. It was just… weird! I don't-”

His hands dropped to his side in defeat.

“I don’t think it’s that out of the ordinary. I would tell you if it was. Also, if it was... 'weird', like you said, that wouldn’t mean it was necessarily bad.”

He hadn’t really heard what she said, he was too busy pondering what his next sentence would be. When she wasn't speaking, he was rambling.

"I had some of the normal crap… like in movies when they talk about the fluttery stomach junk. I've had that around a few girls I've been friends with, also that phase with the boy stuff, a-"

“Wait, what phase with the boy stuff?”

“Like- when you’re in middle school or whatever and you're gay for a second.”

His phrasing was a joke, but the statement as a whole was not.

“…‘Gay for a second’?”

“…Yeah?”

“Hmmm..."

"Is that- not-"

"I don't think that is... 'normal'... per-say..."

“Oh… Really?”

His heart sunk.

“…Yeah.”

“Huh.”

“…Mhm.”

“…Shit.”

He suddenly looked almost embarrassed. He shifted his posture, seemingly trying to shrink into himself.

“Do you... wanna chat about it?”

Panic started to slowly rise in him.

“Um- forget I said anything.”

“Why?”

Something in him said to go on the "defense". He did not appear as calm as he was intending to.

“I’m not- gay! or anything. I like girls! I do!”

She put her hand on his arm.

“Hey- look at me for a second. We are not in court, and I never 'accused' you of being gay. That would be a very funny reality TV show, but not what is happening right now. Listen, theoretically if you were gay that wouldn’t be bad! And I wouldn’t be… whatever you.. think that I would be? I mean- however you are afraid I would act in a negative reaction to it? I would try to be here for you, and be as supportive as possible.”

He didn’t believe her.

“Ok, sure.”

“Peter.”

“What? You’re going to tell me that you would honestly be friends with a queer person- be friends with me if I was... not... normal?”

She was taken aback by his tone, the word he had used, and the way he said it, felt like a weight dropping on her shoulders.

“Oh. would you… not?”

It was her turn to seem nervous.

“What?”

“Would you- stop being friends with someone for liking someone that they… I don’t know… shouldn’t... would be the word I guess?”

Why, in this situation, was she nervous? Oh. His fear was replaced with guilt.

“No.”

“Ok.”

“So… are you… do you… why were you scared?”

“... Why were you?”

She expected a joke from him, something along the lines of “touché".

“Are you… gay?”

“No.”

Yeah, he didn’t believe her.

“Uh-huh”

“Really, I’m not. I’ve liked boys, but also... I've had feelings for girls. I’m not… straight. So I just want to let you know that it’s okay if you aren’t too.”

“I never s-“

She smiled at him with a bit of pity, she had been there. The self-loathing, the feeling of walking on minefields with so many people in your life.

“You are…”

She paused.

“I am… what?”

“Give me a second I’m trying to find the perfect word.”

“… Okay?”

“Wonderful.”

That was not exactly the word he was expecting. Like, at all.

“Huh?”

“That’s the word. Wait- let me start over. You gotta look me in my eyes as I say it, because it’s gonna be really poetic.”

“Uh… should I be scared?”

“No. Maybe a little. No.”

“… Okay.”

He looked at her.

“You are… wonderful.”

“Oh... Thanks?“

He looked away again, to be honest, he was a bit uncomfortable. He rarely received compliments, especially ones that seem so... genuine.

“I’m not finished, look back at me, just for a second. You are so wonderful- and I will support you as whatever you are! I want you to know that I can- I can barely even think of something you could do that would make me genuinely hate you- like… maybe if you Dahmer-ed people or like chopped up a-“

He found this was amusing, yet disturbing.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry- I just- the fact that you thought, even for a second, that I could hate you… is just-“

“I’m sorry”

“No! Stop it. Don’t be sorry.”

She stared at him expectantly.

“What do you want me to-“

“Take it back! The sorry!”

“How?”

“Say you aren’t sorry”

“N/N-“

“Peter.”

“Ok. I’m, ya know, not sorry.”

“Good. You shouldn’t be”

“You’re weird.”

“Yuh-huh. Says the most likely, from the little information I've gathered, bisexual in denial who also happens to be the fastest boy on earth who had to slow down exponentially to interact with other people who also, also, happens sitting on a roof in the dead of winter with me.”

“What’s by smexual?”

Something about the way he attempted to repeat her words must have been hilarious, he thought, because here she was, sitting in front of him, in a fit of childish giggles. He would smile if he weren't so confused.

“No- that’s not- what I said- it’s… wait!”

“What?”

“You’re tryna get me off topic!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Am not!”

“Are t- shit.”

“HAHA! Victory is a sweet dessert... wait is that even the saying? Still, I win you lose, nerd.”

“Ok, okay! go on.”

She was attempting to gather herself to give off a less jokey aura. It was half working, the "am not! are too!" argument a few moments ago made it hard for him to take her seriously, but he could tell it was important to her that he did, so he tried his best.

“You have to look at me again. just for a second.”

“I sw-”

“Just do it? Please?”

His attempt to put up a fight was thwarted by her small "please". He was pathetic.

“Okay.”

He looked at her.

“You…”

“Me… or- wait- I…”

“Are w-“

“Wonderful, yeah yeah. just get to the n-”

“No.”

“… No?”

“When you say it it doesn’t encapsulate it. It sounds silly.”

“Ok little miss ‘you art thou wonderful’, how would you have me say it?”

“I am you wonderful?”

“What?”

“You called me ‘little miss you are you wonderful’ what does that-“

“Ok! Would you just- shut up and call me wonderful one more time, please?”

She looked at him and blinked. That sentence surely came off as less ironic than intended.

“You are wonderful.”

She grabbed his face, in a half-joking manner. Her grab smushed his cheeks and she couldn't help but laugh a bit when she did it. Even though it was clearly a bit, he was still flustered.

“W-“

She shook him a bit.

"Shut up 'cause I'm about to say some beautiful and true shit. You are wonderful. You are wonderful. You are wonderful. You are absolutely, unchangingly, and irrevocably wonderful and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, Maximoff.”

After saying what she would (in 40 years or so) recall as a painfully John Green-ish statement in her blunt and matter-of-fact manner, she let go of her semi-ironic hold on his pink cheeks. Were his cheeks pink because it was absolutely freezing, or because his heart was beating faster than he had ever (and would ever, mind you) run, you ask? No comment.

“Wow.”

“Wow what.”

“You do say it better than I do.”

“Did you like how I stressed different parts of the sentence each time? I thought that was a nice detail.”

“Wow.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Wow.”

Did his voice just... break a little?

“Peter?”

“Uh- yeah?”

Was he a little... sniffle-y? She was now very concerned.

“Are you okay?!”

“Oh- um... yeah!”

No! No he was clearly not! He was sniffling!

“Really? 'Cause, you don't seem it.”

“It’s just- I just- wow.”

“Wow, what!?”

“That was just- uh-"

“Just what? It really wasn't that fancy, you seem much too impressed with me. Oh my God, was it terrible?”

“I mean it was really corny but w-“

“I swear to God if you say 'wow' one more time I may have to add ‘use of the word wow too much’ to the list of things that could make me hate you. Right next to the Dahmer stuff. That was a joke. Your use of the word wow is only mildly perturbing. Sorry."

She was panicking "just a bit".

“I’m sorry, I mean I’m not sorry. Sorry. Shit! sorry! I mean I’m not!”

And he was absolutely... full-on crying at this point.

“Peter.”

“Yeah?”

He was looking down at his mittens. Not that this is important, but they were very pretty mittens.

“Look at me, you klepto.”

He didn’t.

“You know- I’ve been hearing a lot of that 'look at me' stuff from you today. I mean- the klepto part is new-“

“Peter.”

“What?!”

He peaked up at her.

“Talk to me. Please, you're kinda scaring me, let me help.”

“I’m not sad!”

“You’re crying!”

“Yeah but not from the sads!”

“… The ‘sads’?”

“You know- when you get sad! It just means being sad! I don't- that’s what Wanda calls it, not me!"

He wiped his nose, tears still running down from his puffy eyes to his reddened cheeks.

“What are you crying from?”

“No one’s ever called me wonderful before.”

“I'm sorry! I did a few minutes ago and you didn’t cry!”

“No! You can't 'sorry' me if I can't 'sorry' you! And- yeah but that doesn’t count!”

“Why?”

“Because it only felt big when you said it the certain way!”

“What way!?”

“You look at me, you grab my cheeks-“

“I'm sorry about that by the way I was j-“

“No! It’s really ok! Do it whenever! I mean don’t do it whene- shut up!”

“I’m not even talking! You're the one talking!”

“You look at me, you grab my cheeks, and you go: you are wonderful.”

“Yeah???”

“No one ever called me that before!”

"Peter, I- well- they- they should! They should! More often! Then the amount that it happens now! I think. In my opinion."

"Or really looked at me like that!”

“Looked at you like what, Peter?”

“Like I was somethin’!”

“Well, you are… ‘somethin'! Whatever that means! And- I think you deserve to be looked at as such!”

“See?”

“What!?”

“You just-“

A strangled sob escaped from his throat. He didn't know how to explain.

“Pete.”

“Ew. I hate that nickname.”

He crossed his arms over his chest like a toddler, trying to completely ignore the fact that he was an emotional wreck.

“Peter.”

“Yeah?”

She opened her arms and gestured for him to come closer. He was hesitant at first- but gave up all the reasons he shouldn't move to be closer to her in exchange for the promise of comfort she was offering him. He crawled over to her and curled up in her arms. The way she held him made him want to cry more. Who does she think she is- holding him like he was worth holding? With her chin sitting on top of his hair? Letting him do that gross cry sob with the spit and the snot into her only winter coat? Rocking him, and shushing him, and petting his stupid, silver hair? She was warm, too! The audacity of this woman.

When Erik brought Charles into his office to grab a chess set, they saw the two in the window. For a moment Charles considered telling Peter and Y/N to get off of the high platform, seeing as the two were the reasons the "no sitting on the roof" rule was enacted in the first place (neither of them were coordinated whatsoever). Charles quickly dropped this notion when he saw the look on Erik's face, Charles could tell it made him so happy to see Peter be held like that, cared for like that. Erik's expression made Charles want to both tell Erik that he is the most precious thing in the world, and make fun of him (look at Mr. Metal, gone completely soft). Possibly he could do both at the same time. But for now, he is just going to pretend he didn't see the two outside of the window, and have Erik grab them their game, go to the living room, and pretend not to have read Erik's mind when he inevitably asks him how he always manages to pick the white chess piece at "random".

[niceprophecies]

“[…]the characters who get much more of the spotlight are unarguably the most adored by Good Omens fans—the demon Crowley (played to hissing, sashaying perfection by David Tennant) and his angel co-conspirator Aziraphale (an utterly cherubic Michael Sheen). Having said that, the execution of the duo’s story was something of a shock for a fan like me, who will freely admit to shipping the heck out of the pair for ages, and even reading and writing fanfic to that end. A bunch of it. And also to dressing up as Crowley and Aziraphale for Halloween with my partner. It’s well known that Crowley/Aziraphale shippers are a sizable contingent of the Good Omens fandom, to the point where both Gaiman and Pratchett had made note that they were aware of it, with Gaiman recently noting that fanfiction and its ilk is also Making Stuff Up, which is the same as all writing—though they did say that making the duo a couple was not their intent when they wrote the book.

Which is fascinating because this miniseries is emphatically a love story.

I know, I know: They say they’re friends, what’s wrong with friendship, you friend-hating fiend. But there are endless stories dedicated to platonic friendships between two male friends. (Or male-seeming in this case, as they are truly an angel and a demon, which then ultimately begs the question of whether conventional sexuality or gender should even apply for the two of them, and it likely shouldn’t, but that’s a fairly long digression…) While modern fiction seems to have a hard time understanding that it’s possible for men and women to “just be very good friends”, the precise opposite can be said for queer people. We’re always presumed to be “just very good friends” and nothing besides. Having said that, it is entirely possible for people of the same (or similar) gender to go from being true best friends to being in a relationship of some sort. It is also possible to say “you’re my best friend” and actually mean “I love you” or even “I’m in love with you.”

Exhibit A, when Crowley is making his way to Aziraphale’s flaming bookshop (he doesn’t know about the fire yet), the Bentley is playing Queen’s “You’re My Best Friend”—which is not an ode to frienship in general, but in fact a love song written by Queen’s bassist for his wife. Immediately thereafter, Crowley arrives and opens the doors to the bookshop, and being unable find the angel, promptly has a complete breakdown over the what he assumes to be Aziraphale’s death. It’s not the shock or disbelief over losing a friend that we can see in Crowley’s face, but utter desolation. “Somebody killed my best friend!” he screams, slumped on the floor in anguish. (Again, I remind you, John Deacon’s friend in the song that served as the cue for this whole scene was his spouse.) Crowley then immediately goes to a pub to get trashed, forgetting his plans to escape the Earth before the true Final Countdown because he’s just lost the most important person in all of creation to him… wait sorry, that’s Creation with a capital ‘C’.

The point is (as Crowley would say, drunkenly, before beginning a long-winded aside about dolphins), the entirety of the Good Omens miniseries unfolds with all the beats you’d expect of a romantic comedy/epic, and that is very much the hinge on which its enjoyability swings. It’s not just the song selection—“Somebody to Love” starts playing when Crowley exits the bookshop, believing that he’s lost Aziraphale; violins swell when the demon reveals to the angel that he has saved his beloved books from a bombing during the London Blitz in 1941—but the entirety of the plot. These alterations to the story seem to reach some sort of zenith during the deep dive into Crowley and Azirapahle’s “Arrangement” in episode three. The opening half hour of the episode works hard to create greater context for their six-thousand-year partnership, tracking them through the ages, and finally closes out in 1967 with the angel handing over a thermos of holy water to his dear friend, saying sadly “You go too fast for me, Crowley.”

He’s talking about Crowley’s driving. But of course he isn’t, because there is no context on this earth in which the words “you go too fast for me” are about being in a car, friends.

This is the part where the usual suspects roll their eyes because culture has endlessly enforced the idea that queerness is conditional and that “slash goggles” (i.e. viewing not-canonically-comfirmed characters as queer) should be derided and that the only person who should get a say in the sexuality of characters is the author—unless the author flat-out says their characters are queer, in which case, they should have made it more obvious if they expected anyone to believe that.

But this pairing is pretty damned (sorry, blessedly) obvious. It’s obvious in the way the Aziraphale bats his eyelashes at Crowley and grumps about the fact that his pristine old jacket now has paint on it, then smiles beatifically when the demon vanishes the stain by blowing gently on his shoulder—both of them knowing full well that Aziraphale can remove the stain himself with angelic will. It’s obvious in how angry Crowley gets when Aziraphale claims he’s “nice”, and Crowley shoves him up against a wall in a standard intimidation tactic that the angel barely registers as fury. It’s obvious in the way that Crowley sits across Aziraphale with a drink every time they’re out, and simply watches the angel indulge in rich foods. It’s right there even at the start, when the Angel of the Eastern Gate shelters the Serpent of Eden from the world’s very first rainstorm with one of his wings, through they both have a perfectly functional set to themselves.

We’re at a point in time where more and more writers and creators are perfectly aware that fans will see characters as queer whether they are written explicitly that way or not. Being aware of this—and not having anything against queer people—many of them say something to the tune of “you can view this relationship however you like, we’re cool with that”. It’s very nice. To some extent, it’s even incredibly helpful, because being okay with the queering of characters goes a long way in telling homophobic people that their vitriol toward queerness isn’t welcome. But when a huge swath of a fandom is queer, and certain characters are commonly rendered as queer to most of those fans, and then we are given a version of the story in which interpreting those characters as just great buddies is honestly taxing to one’s logical faculties… well, it’s hard not to wonder at what point the “straight” view of said characters is likely destined to become a minority interpretation one day.

Which is precisely where I found myself while watching Good Omens.

This clarity kept turning up and tuning in, even in the terms of their dear Arrangement; after Crowley suggests that they start doing work on each other’s behalves during a run-in in the 6th century, another meeting at The Globe in Shakespeare’s day sees Crowley bringing it up again, only to have Aziraphale try and shoot the idea down. “We’ve done it before… dozens of times now,” the demon wheedles, and he might as well be saying “But we’ve made out a lot lately, I think it’s time to accept that you like hanging out with me.” To make up for sending Aziraphale to Edinburgh, he agrees to infernally intervene to ensure that the Bard’s latest play (Hamlet) is a rousing success—and again, the angel offers up that ethereal smile and Crowley takes it as his compensation, as though it’s all he ever wanted in the world.

People may cry, stop shoving your sexuality in other people’s faces! (They always do, like a reliable clock striking the hour with a very irritating chime that you can’t seem to turn off.) But that’s hardly the point, is it? Because I didn’t say anything about sex, I said they were in love. And I’m having a very hard time finding any evidence to the contrary.

Critics and most of the internet have noticed how romantic the show is. The actors did as well, and talked endlessly of it in interviews. The series gives us longing glances and a messy breakup and drunken mourning and a canonical bodyswap (the stuff of fanfic dreams, my lovelies) where Aziraphale strips Crowley’s body down to its undergarments for the purpose of taunting Hell. At the point when everything threatens to blow up in their faces, Crowley asks—sorry no, he begs—Aziraphale to run away with him. And then when it’s all over, he invites the angel to spend the night at his place, and Aziraphale’s response is “I don’t think my side would like that” which is basically divine-speak for “I came out to my family and they’re not cool with it, so I’m not sure this is gonna work.” This has all the markings of the sort of Shakespeare play that Crowley appreciates: the funny ones where no one dies. And it ends on our couple having a lovely lunch in a fancy locale while a swoony love standard plays on in the background.

It’s odd to think that the fact that it took over two decades to produce a Good Omens series is part of the reason why the romantic aspect seems more unabashed than ever; in the book, plenty of people think Aziraphale is gay and that the angel and demon are a couple, but it’s done with that wink and nudge that was common around the turn of the century. These days, teasing at the idea that your core duo might seem a little gay to onlookers doesn’t constitute a ready joke because there’s nothing particularly funny about that suggestion when queer folks are fighting so hard to be seen and represented. And the lack of those winky moments, the way the story simply takes their codependency as a sweet given, makes Aziraphale and Crowley read even more genuinely as a pair. But if you had told me this was the version of Good Omens that I’d see in 2019, I’d have never believed a word. I was ready for extra background, more story, different jokes, but not this. Not confirmation that there are other angels and demons exchanging information and working together in Crowley and Aziraphale’s reality, but Heaven and Hell have a specific problem with their partnership because they clearly love each other too much.

And sure, you can read the story differently. You can choose to ignore those cues and enjoy a story about two very good friends who help to avert the apocalypse. I’m sure for some, that’s a more enjoyable take. But I’m more curious about whether or not, in twenty or thirty years time, people will think of the Good Omens series as anything but the story of an angel and a demon who spent six millennia figuring out that they should probably buy that cottage on the South Downs together.”

[demyrie]

Maybe someone’s already asked, but do you have any other BNHA OTPs/Ships?

NO HISS ERASERMIGHT ONLY I AM A MONOSHIP GREMLIN no really that’s what it feels like sometimes looool, but I do have other ships I genuinely enjoy and cheer on! I’m a basic bitch though. No edgy shit here, just the FDA approved Standard Queer BNHA Ships. But thanks for asking even if I’m boring!!

SILLY SHIPPING BLA BLA TO FOLLOW

Kiddo shippos! *DAB*

I love love love TodoDeku. Like. Todoroki just breathing steam through his nose every time oblivious Deku enters a room, shining with friendship? YES. Shouto hangs the moon by his gaze and their vibe is so soft and centered on healing!!! Shouto needs it. He needs the green boy love and it’s pretty much canon he’s never had a friend before and they both come from backgrounds of neglect and HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO PEOPLE OR BOND and *nodsnods*

MOMOJIROUUUUUUU *SCREAMS* PREP PUNK TWITTERPATION NATION they’re so in love and fashionable i cant, the sheer amount of blushing involved in a first kiss I jUST

Shinsou/anyone pretty much? in my hc he has a crush on the entirety of 1A and it gives Aizawa a fucking stomach ache of nerves and dread just like CHILD AT LEAST PICK ONE but no not that one not deku anyone but deku SHIT

TSUYURAKA OR WHATEVER ITS CALLED *SCREAMS LOUDER* FLOATY FROG LOVE HOW ARE THEY SO SOFT AHHHH guaranteed they just binge netflix and eat cake and popcorn and cuddle and Uraraka gathers tsu to her tummy fluff so her frog girl can stay warm and happy aaaaaaaaa it reminds me of me and Rae!

canonically I do appreciate Dekuraka because just … *squints* if we’re gonna have a het midoriya it’s mcfuckin whoppercute ai’ght let him blush and be a twitterpated kid ok… 

IIDA/ANYONE LET MY BOY BE HAPPY. TodoIideku is pure bliss and any fractal of the triad is bliss. TodoIida is hilarious and wonderful -- their personalities are so funny, with Iida being SO EXTRA and Todoroki being singularly unflappable but also secretly Soft. But I also like Iida + Uraraka in context of tododeku?? Like ... they would be so cute ...

I love KiriBaku / Bakushima because it’s just s-s-s-so pure. Like, Kirishima is such a Good Boy that he melts Bakugou with the brightness of his smile and that’s a canonical miracle. The way the shippers portray it is just so emotional and the only way I can lock into ships with Bakugou is explosionboy finally chipping a little off of the ice block around his heart and realizing he can Emote Softly. Hopefully after Breaking Down in the Fucking Loudest Way because … necessary. (in the same vein occasionally I’ll reblog a BakuDeku something or other, but I only jive with that when they’re way way older and have obviously done the DIFFICULT work to come to terms with their past and all the abuse Midoriya has suffered. Just to head off the purity police, obviously not fetishizing or expecting romantic relationships to solve, or emerge from, bullying =__= Bakugou is a little shit and has done a lot of harm, and could have done even more, but he’s learning and that’s better than the alternative.)

Well, I’m gonna be honest, I OT3′d (triangle) the big 3 before their anime debut and wanted to write so much dirty fic about Nejire and Mirio basically coaxing and praising Tamaki into a three-way (not like it’s a first time but like it happens EVERY WEEK and they STILL HAVE TO COAX HIM and everyone involved loves it, praise kink +100000%) but now I think it’s Miritama and Nejire + her best friend who worships her cuteness? But I dunno I’ll have to see more Nejire. Man. Writing about the ot3 makes me wanna do it though ugh I’m weak.

Adult ships!

Erasermight shut up

Midnight/me yep thats one of my faves. I’m kidding I mean Midnight/everyone, I fucking dig MicNight and AllNight like woah, but also can’t see her being anything but aggressively and professionally poly. She would D E V O U R a monogamous mate, you gotta spread that hunger out man. I know there’s a Mount Lady/Midnight community but I haven’t dipped my toes in! (*pokes fingers together* I-I have an OC … in fact I think the only OCs I make are Midnight’s current partners or her exes, like in Newsflash … and I think I just realized that … whoops im gay)

I like Erasermic in an ‘Over There’ sense – I loooove the art and I loooove the silly-ass shippers and can see why people adore it, but it doesn’t push my buttons. I never read fic because I exhausted all my ‘pining for your best friend’ tropes in my younger years and that well is dry now haha.

NAOMIGHT. JUST. NAOMIGHT. *jumps up and down* I DONT KNOW HOW IT WORKS IN FICTION BUT I LOVE IT IN ART

DAVEMIGHT? DAVEMIGHT but in the past, and sad, it has to be sad otherwise i don’t cum

Toshinori/happiness tbh

NightMight maybe once I meet the man??? Again, toshinori/happiness always wins you don’t even have to twist my arm let the man be loved

Those are my ships! Sometimes I get asked for fic recs for other pairings but honestly, I absorb all of these in a visual sense, especially the kids. It’s hard for me to sit my ass on one ship and stan it with the same fervor as Erasermight because they’re KIDS. They’re all just so young and have so many defining moments to go through (such zygotes!!!!). I just feel super happy and full of anticipation watching Horikoshi develop them <3 <3 But I was still screaming “BEST LESBIANS, AAAAAA BESTBIANS” at the BNHA movie whenever Momo and Jirou were like carrying each other or making out or whatever happened my mind has improved it in retrospect i think but whatever it’s all true they’re in love

But hey man!!! if anyone has any really good fic recs for the aforementioned ships, please send them over!! I am always open to wooing and quality and am deeply, deeply terrified of and overwhelmed by the amount of fan material out there. SO. probly not gonna find it on my own without a panic attack. *shrugs*

[iwantasecretgarden]

Dear Misty,

@mercedeslackeyblog​ - please print this for her in the hospital! I want her to know we all love her and are rooting for her.

You have been one of the icons in my life for as long as I’ve been reading. Seriously. I picked up “Arrows of the Queen” when I was twelve and fell dizzyingly in love. So in love, in fact, that my father bought me the set of them leatherbound. It was one of the last things he ever bought me. They sit on my shelf with me wherever I move to (and I have moved a lot). They are the epitome of my childhood.

How do I even begin to explain what you have meant to me? I wrote you a fan letter in my teens, but I don’t think it ever reached you. Websites were less...polished then. I tried to find a copy to see what I had said, but I don’t have it anymore, so I’ll write this from scratch.

First off, for someone growing up in the 90s, sexuality was a difficult topic. My father was Catholic about it. My mother was liberal about acceptance, but not very liberal about giving us the tools to recognize it. I didn’t really accept the fact I was bi until I was 26 (last year). It was an embarrassing realization, because I had always been conditioned to already think women were interesting and cool and beautiful. But I honestly and truly believe one of the reasons I grew up being so tolerant of sexuality wasn’t my mother’s liberal attitude, but because of the fantasy I read, which didn’t use sexuality as a dramatic plot device. Your books, especially, in depicting queer relationships, poly relationships, and interracial relationships in such an ordinary light, in such a non-complaining, non special, non interesting way (as it should be!) that to me it became ordinary. I didn’t understand the big fuss when people started coming out in eighth and ninth grade. Well of course Brett could like boys. Silverfox did, and he’s one of my favorite characters, a fictional hero who I use to help combat my own anxiety and work through impossible situations. I didn’t understand why liking girls was so shocking. Keren was the impossibly cooler most perfect big sister/coach figure. I was into horse back riding until 16 (when, unfortunately, my horse died). Keren has a lot of the surly riding instructor in her, and it was a far more interesting aspect of her personality than her relationship with Sheri. Keren had even assured Sheri she would have been welcome as their third. As a kid, it hadn’t even occurred to me to make an argument against it. I - Talia’s age - agreed with her. When life gives you child brides and weird cult compounds, it’s better to find love where you can. Genuine love. Regardless of anything else.

Secondly, it was a book I needed when I didn’t know I would need it. A lot of fiction - especially geared at children - skates lightly over topics of depression, anxiety, and loss. Don’t get me wrong, I love Harry Potter with my soul. But even at the age I read it I felt the shallowness of their reactions when Sirius died. I felt my own reaction even crying while reading the book to be stronger. It would infuriate me that the next book they sort of conveniently forgot it had only been a few weeks/months. That Harry was “sad but manageable.” For context, my dad contracted Lou Gehrig’s disease at 44. They told him he had likely already had the disease 10 years. He lost everything; his temper, his dignity, bits of his mind at a time. Any filter between his brain and his mouth. His fine motor control, like holding a spoon. His major motor control, like being able to stand up. He was in a powerchair within the year. As the oldest daughter, it was expected that I would help turn him, change his catheter, and answer his shrill screams in the night. I was fourteen years old. 

Dad and I were inseparable. Father-daughter relationship compounded by the fact he had, in essence with a flexible work schedule, been a stay at home dad. He had been my primary caregiver, my confidante, my chef, my advisor, my everything. And now I was his punching bag as he lost a bit of himself at a time. “My friend, who’s a psychiatrist,” Mom always said it this way, to make sure we knew she wasn’t so weak as to need therapy. A challenge to dare us to say we did. “He says that he’s hardest on you, because he’s most assured of your love. That he can abuse you and scream at you and curse at you because he knows you’ll go back the next day. A moth to a flame.” And me staring blankly at her: “Of course I will.” Because even if it was my worst fear - it was, always had been - even if it hurt worse than I could have ever imagined - his death would have broken me, but only in half. His suffering crushed the pieces of me into dust and left me a gaping black thing sucking in the world - “I love him too much to miss a moment of this.” Even if every minute - every possible second - was me reminding myself I had to breathe and feeling my lungs on fire, my head was on the edge of a migraine, it was impossible to interact, but I had to. I had to smile. To go to high school. To turn in assignments on time regardless of the cost between going to bed at 2 and hearing him scream at 3. 

Your books, though, weren’t fake. I held onto them with the assurance of that one quote: life is the scream into the void; art is the answer you are not alone. I held onto the depression and grief and trauma of your characters and felt sane. If I hadn’t, I might have thought I was losing my mind. I was, of course. And I had been conditioned Catholically to think of mental health as a weakness, a secret shame. I had been told by my mother psychologists and medication were wonderful advancements for those people; sick people. Sick in their mind, she would say smugly. Her adamant assurance was: “We have to go on like usual. We can’t let people know we’re struggling.” And so we did. Social events. Big smiles. Sleepovers (somewhere else, my friends explained, your dad bums us out). People didn’t find out he was dying until prom of my senior year. I was on the receiving end of a lot of horror from teachers (why didn’t you tell us? Ask for an extension?) I had to be normal I wanted to tell them, but I didn’t even know how to begin to explain.

Once a pediatrician told my mom I was deeply angry and tired; I was losing my father. I was fifteen. I needed to see a counselor. My mom went ballistic in a public waiting room. She aggressively turned to me and asked if this was true? There was no chance, of course, for me to disagree. I didn’t even want to. My loyalty to my family was (is) so strong that seeing anyone upset her so badly had put my back against the wall and made me bare my teeth. I reflect a lot on it now; how poorly that doctor handled it, the way she would have bungled it much worse if it had been physical abuse. You never confront the person in front of the child. Never don’t have a safety plan in place. 

“She said you were so young,” my mother snarled on the way home. “When we both know you haven’t been young in years. I watched you. Watched you go from fifteen to twenty in months instead of years. Don’t you think?”

I could only nod, and when I covered my mouth, fingertips touched wet skin. I hadn’t been young in years. 

Darkwind was someone I identified heavily with. Someone who changed his name, cut his hair, let his grief consume him. Someone who shied away from Silverfox’s help. Someone who was glad when his father still got some. The day of my dad’s funeral, I cut off my hair. I was 19. The nightmare had lasted five years. I had stayed home to go to a local college so I could keep living at home, keep shielding my younger sisters, keep driving them to school and viola practice and karate. I had to give up my extracurriculars early on (and lie, of course, on my applications). It was actually a disaster at the hair cutting place (not important, but the lady called the police thinking I had stolen her cell phone which had fallen behind some tools). I went home. My mother took one look at my hair and told me it made my face look fat. “It’s for Dad,” I said steadily. In my mind, I was howling like Darkwind. I wondered if I could break my name into grief and sorrow, but it was too hard to think of the name I might have been, since the person I had been was as dead as dad was. 

On days where my two younger sisters were scared and confused (the youngest was 13 when he died), I read them The Fairy Godmother and One Good Knight. They liked that one especially well. I went on to absorb almost all of your works (I think it’s impossible though, to be honest. There are just so many that either you’re a witch or I keep reading the same ones again and thinking I’ve never read them. For instance, I have a Bard Song on my nightstand right now from a bargain bin. Never read it before. Recently read Four and Twenty Blackbirds). Of course, my favorite series was Valdemar. I know all those characters the best, having reread most of them over again several times. I liked Elemental Masters, 700 Kingdoms (some). I was sad that the Beauty & the Beast stories in both weren’t my favorites (The Fire Rose, Beauty and the Werewolf, since it’s my favorite Disney film (but as your stories follow the traditional fairytale a little closer, and that tale is a bit gross, I understand). I think my favorites were The Firebird, Phoenix and Ashes, Reserved from the Cat, The Wizard of London).

Honestly, I may be a tiny minority, but I ADORE Joust. I was sad there weren’t more of them. I spent much of the time I read them inventing my own dragon egg, my own falling through time and space. My own female girl rider takes on the Team without being just a sidekick who talked to animals. It is hard to recommend or talk about it without people laughing, and I appreciate it IS an incredibly hard-core nerd fantasy genre (ancient Egypt, jousting, dragons). It feels a lot like Anne McCaffery crossed with a Naomi Novik story (since Temeraire and Napoleonic Wars are equally hard-core nerd stories. I was lucky to stumble on that line recently - I feel like there’s not enough of the true blue 80s/90s fantasy voice anymore. Sometimes it feels all too dark and plot driven, lacking the characters and slice of life that your works have nestled in my heart, places like the Palace Compound that I know as well as I knew my middle and high schools. A place as real to me as they are, including my own room. My own Companion. My own Heraldic Whites when I turned 18 and took the leatherbound books from my father in an eyestinging rush of love. 

Even now when I was looking up a list of your work, I’m amazed and appalled to see I haven’t caught any of your works since 2009 or so. HOW MANY ARE THERE 100? 200? I thought there were 70 something, but no, you’ve far outstripped yourself. I usually pick up the books in secondhand shops. I’ll go straight for “L” and then just tip all of them into my arms if I haven’t read them. It’s one of my favorite rainyday activities. I noticed you even have a book out this year! CRAP! It should not be POSSIBLE you can write faster than I can read! I’m 27 and I still read a lot of the books that came out when I was born or in diapers. Sometimes I wonder which books you’ve written are your favorites. If there are books you’ve written you skim through like “hmmm I don’t even remember this” and read it with the same laughing intensity as the rest of us, resting your thumb on “oh yes, this was when I was...”

Anyway. I know this letter is long. You’ve been a saint for even getting this far. So let me say this. When I think of the BEST writers of fantasy in the 20th and 21st centuries, your name is among the greats. I’ll say something like: Anne McCaffery’s Dragonriders of Pern; Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game; Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time; Mercedes Lackey’s Valdemar...and EVERYTHING ELSE. A lot more people know the names of George R.R. Martin, of J.K. Rowling, of Neil Gaiman. But none of them have put out the solid, unending stream of work that literally POPULATES what most people consider “fantasy.” Your ideas, your work, your world-building influence television, influence Dungeons & Dragons, other works. You are a Giant in your field, and even if you don’t feel it, you have laid the groundwork for an entire generation to lay themselves reverently on the altar of your sacrifice, your reflection of relationships, and taught young girls like me what it was to embrace themselves, in all shapes - black tar and bi pride. 

I know you probably tire of hearing this, but I want to be an author. And I’m a good writer. I don’t say it boastfully. I say it as something I’ve always heard, from teachers and friends and magazines. But mom said being an author was like being an actor - a pipe dream, a thing to do “on the side” and “as a hobby.” And it is a hobby of mine, for now. I did the Responsible Thing and became a lawyer. It was quite horrible. But I did it. For Dad, you know. Legacy and all that. 

But don’t you DARE die before I’m published. I’m not talking about the hospital right now. I’m talking about choking on a banana; slipping on the sidewalk; getting mobbed by adoring fans. It is literally my bucketlist to publish a book, to meet you, to dedicate the book to a woman who I’ve never met, who I’ve never known, but who had influenced and impacted my life SO profoundly I consider her characters as pieces of myself. Her worlds as places of safety when I’m sad. The helping hand she held out to a twelve year old girl, and fifteen years later the one I’m still gripping tightly. 

YOU are one of the best women in my life, and one of the best role models I’ve ever known. Even if we’ve never met, knowing that you could be a deeply nerdy human who loves horses and magic and reading every day and still be “successful” when the world outside told me I dressed wrong and looked wrong and felt wrong. That I needed to pick up a magazine, or watch sitcoms, or generally stop making them feel pitying and uncomfortable because of the things I liked. You made me proud to be a feminist, an ally, a writer, a dreamer, a reader, and maybe only lately of my sexuality, but still growing and going forward. 

So, here’s lots of love and adoration and gratitude flooding your way from:

One herald (whose companion was someone she knew in real life reincarnated too early, obviously grove born, with mindspeech, with magic, of course and lifebonded with a Kestra'chern. Predictably, I fought the lifebonding every step of the way, and consider him a great nuisance).

One dragon rider in the jousting wars (with a dragon named Altaira (high flying) who is such a deep dark color she seems black but ripples cobalt and violet).

One grateful apprentice to the Fairy Godmother, who herself was saved from one of a great many plots by the impetus of her father’s illness/death.

And of course, from one persnickety lawyer in DC, drowning in student loan debt and of course too many books, one cat too pretty to be a boy named Gandalf, and his Greyhounds (yes, two, who are very lowkey and I think you would like. They’re like large sleeping cats more than dogs, but very friendly with horses). Of course I named the cat Gandalf simply for the introduction of “Gandalf, the Greyhounds.” Originally I wanted to name a dog “Gandalf...the Greyhound” but because of who I am I went to the shelter and asked for the dog least likely to get adopted and sort of came out with a bonded pair and then it seemed they needed twin names so they’re named Fred & George after Harry Potter. 

But rambling aside, I adore you. I adore your books. I adore the world you’ve given freely for us to play in. Get well soon, and lots, lots, and lots of love. I’ll be playing in my worlds today especially a lot, thinking of you.

All the best,

Kaylee

[beckettsthoughts]

i looove all of the botanical asks so id really appreciate if youd answer all of them!! (or all of them that you like)

This is amazing thank you so much! Anon you are wonderful <3

Baby’s breath: 5 things you associate yourself with:

Crows, strong friendships, sunglasses, shortwave radios, and laughter.

Bleeding heart: What makes you heart go mushy?

@skyward-sheik, in all honesty. All of my friends have the unique ability to melt me into a puddle of warmth and happiness, but Sheik of course holds the true key to my heart.

Bell flower: What’s the title of the song that makes you want to jump around out of joy?

The Last Of The Real Ones, by Fall Out Boy

Evening primrose: What’s your sleeping playlist (Give me 5 songs)?

You know what, I’m honestly just going to give you my whole sleep playlist:

Paris, by The 1975

Those Days Are Gone & My Heart Is Breaking, by Barton Carroll

Fools Rush In, by Eliza Rickman

Stage 4 Fear of Trying, by Frnkiero And The Cellabration

Drugstore Perfume, by Gerard Way

Monkey 23, by The Kills

Rut, by The Killers

I Lied, by Electric Century

Mad Sounds, by the Artic Monkeys

Everyday, by Puggy

Sober, by Broods

Weird Honey, by Elvis Depressedly

Golden Age, by KT Tunstall

New World Towers, by Blur

Coming Down, by Halsey

Time Spent In Los Angeles, by Dawes

Killing You, by Broods

N.M.S.S, by Elvis Depressedly

Busted and Blue, by Gorillaz

Hiding Tonight, by Alex Turner

Barcelona, by George Ezra

Mad at Nothing, by Patrick Stump

Daffodil: What is one plant that you want to have but can never get?

Oh god, I’d love to have so many. More than anything, though, I’d love to have a garden big enough to have a willow tree. If I had that, I would be so incredibly, serenely happy.

Calla lily: Are you more of a sunny day or a rainy evening person?

Here, I’m a sunny day person. I don’t like leaving my flat in the rain, because it’s so hard to get back up the hill when it’s damp. I don’t like the sun so much, but I do appreciate the warmth it brings when I’m walking out and about. At home, though, I adore the rain and I love to spend stormy evenings sitting out in the conservatory so I can hear it against the roof.

Lavender: What is something that you’ve always wanted to be/have/get but can never have?

I’ve always said that in another life I’d want to be a famous singer. I made my peace with that goal a long, long time ago though. In another sense, I’d love for so many things to be different about my body. I want skinnier hips, I want nicer skin, I want a flatter chest, I want a better voice, I want a stronger heart. None of these things are changeable, but they do still haunt me. It’s hard to think about, and most days I can ignore each of them. Some days I don’t want to leave my flat because of it, but I’m trying my best to make peace with these issues as well.

Love in a mist: What is the latest dream that you remember?

Oh, not very recent. I very rarely remember my dreams, and it’s only ever the frightening ones that I can recall. The most recent, then, was actually a strange dream I had back in June. The fourteenth, to be precise. It was the day of the Grenfell Tower fire, the day of my A Level sociology exam, and I fell asleep early in the morning in my mother’s room with the news playing on the television. I won’t go into too much detail because it’s hard to explain and it’s nonsensical in that subconscious way dreams are, my brain making shortcuts and connections that shouldn’t be there. I was in a strange holiday apartment in a row of terraced white buildings, each having different colours accents and trims on the wall. My family disappeared, I couldn’t contact them, and I went to my friend in the next cottage only to find him, his mother and two foreign strangers who were clearly in distress. We tried to comfort them, spent hours with them, and slowly they calmed. My heart absolutely wrenched for them, these two strangers. I think they’d lost their families, they were running from some awful disaster, and the terror of the situation hung heavy in the air. My friend’s mother had left a while back, and then he had left as well, leaving me alone with them. Eventually, they left too. I stayed, watching the disaster on the news, until I noticed some strangers in official-looking suits inspecting each house. They were unfamiliar, detached, inherently alarming. I quickly pulled the blinds. I stayed there, in my friend’s holiday apartment, for almost two more hours. In the end, I braved the strange officials and headed outside, only to find the families of other residents, almost entirely my friends and their relatives, gathered outside and staring at this great, dark, thundering cloud that was fast descending towards us.

That’s when I woke up. I’ll be happy if I don’t remember another dream for a long, long time.

Daisy: What is your favourite flavour of cotton candy, ice cream, and juice?

My favourite flavour of ice is chocolate, although I also love caramel ice cream. My favourite type of juice is apple juice, I don’t have a strong preference between pressed or concentrate. Actually, one unpopular opinion I seem to have is that I genuinely hate orange juice? Like, I honestly can’t stand it. This tends to surprise people, for some reason.

And my favourite flavour of candy floss, is well, candy floss? I didn’t know it came in other flavours.

Painter’s palette: Are you more of a singer, dancer, painter, or instrumentalist?

Singer, for sure.

That said, I’ve tried at my hand at all of those practises throughout my life. I took dance classes several times a week from the age of three, in ballet and tap primarily but there were times when I took modern and street dance as well. Tap was my favourite by far. I quit ballet when I was about eleven, but I didn’t quit tap until I was about fourteen. In terms of painting, I took art GCSE. While painting is by far one of my least favourite art media, naturally I’ve painted quite a lot over the years. Sometimes I even enjoy it, but only if I’m working with acrylics. And in terms of being an instrumentalist, it’s undeniable that I am, by definition, one of them. I play violin, have done since the age of seven, and I also play the ukulele and marching bell. However, I am not a very good instrumentalist, hence why I chose singer. Singing is my most natural talent out of all of these, and it’s the one I enjoy the most.

Waxflower: Are you a bee or a butterfly person? A dog or a cat person?

I am a butterfly person, I used to have a strong fear of any insect that could sting me. These days I try and accept bees for their hard-working selves, but nobody could ever make me like wasps.

And, uh, I’m definitely a dog person. Even though I used to be scared of both dogs and cats, dogs win out on the basis that I’m not allergic to them. You know what, I’d love to have a borzoi some day. If I wasn’t allergic to cats I’d get an oriental shorthair, though. If you were wondering why I’m no longer scared of dogs, the answer to that question is Maya. She’s an adorable, tiny border collie cross who belongs to my amazing partner @skyward-sheik. She’s too cute to be afraid of, so I got over that fear pretty quickly after I started spending more time at his house.

Sugarbush: Do you have sweet tooth? If yes, what’s your favourite sweets? if no, why?

Uh, yeah, you could say. I’m kind of a dessert fiend.

Right now my favourite sweets are M&Ms, but Maynard’s Wine Gums, Rowntree’s Fruit Pastilles, Cadbury’s Eclairs and Barratt’s Dolly Mixture.

Sunflower: Would you like to be a fairy or a mermaid?

I’d give my heart to be a sweet little woodland pouque.

Sweet pea: What would you like to call your significant other?

Well, that’s actually a really interesting question. I haven’t talked with him about specific terminology in this regard. He’s my queerplatonic partner, which is actually really difficult to explain in shorthand, but ‘partner’ is the best abbreviation I can find. Obviously QPP works, but that acronym isn’t exactly widely known. 

Sea lavender: Can you swim? Which strokes can you do?

I can indeed swim! I grew up on an island and a mere two minute’s walk from the beach, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d learnt to doggy paddle before I could steadily walk. I took swimming lessons throughout my early childhood, too, both in school and extracurricular. Somewhere in a box at home is a whole pile of badges for achieving my 10m, 50m, 100m, 200m, 500m, etc. I enjoy swimming front crawl the most, and though I dislike them I can also swim backstroke, breaststroke and butterfly.

I don’t get the chance to swim much anymore, though. The sea, though beneficial in the long run, is too painful for my skin to justify that minimal long-term improvement. Most chlorinated pools, while less painful in the moment, leave my skin flared, red and raised for several days after using them. There’s one leisure centre at home I can use without suffering too much ill-effect but I haven’t been there to swim in well over five years. Maybe sometime over the summer I’ll go there with my friends.

Windflower: List 5 of your favourite blogs and explain why you like them

@skyward-sheik, of course. He’s my favourite person, so of course his is my favourite blog. He reblogs a lot of cute and funny posts about video games and other things he likes, which of course makes me really happy. He also reblogs quite a lot about mental health and neurodivergence, and given you follow me you’re probably into that too.

@shark-myths, my queer writer icon, campaigner for the power of LGBT+ friendships and girls’ solidarity. Fellow Fall Out Boy deep lore analyst and encourager in the realms of both lifestyle and arts, K’s is a blog I would highly recommend. K as a person I would highly recommend, actually, and those qualities clearly translate across social media.

@honoraryplantking is a mutual of mine and a blog I love to scroll through. He’s an absolute sweetie and we have a lot of common interests between us. His blog is just a nice and positive place to be, so if you’re ever in need of a pick-me-up I’d recommend checking him out.

@strangerdarkerbetter is a fantastic neurodivergence and chronic illness activist and general person of good will. I first found Sabrina’s blog back when I was first diagnosed as autistic and they’ve been an awesome mutual and point of reference for me ever since.

I actually can’t think of a fifth that really stands out to me. Many of the blogs I check a lot are mutuals of mine, which I like because I find them relatable, I have a similar sense of humour and I like them as people. Other than those, of which there are quite a few, there’s nobody else off the top of my head who stands out as an absolute favourite.

Golden rod: Are you more of a baker or a cook?

Definitely a baker. I’m a really awful cook, executive dysfunction absolutely wrecks me as soon as I’m placed in a kitchen with nothing more than a vague recipe, but I have a lot more experience with baking and while I’m still bad at it, I can at least make a passable cake. I also way prefer desserts to making savoury meals, so that totally works in my favour.

Bloom: What is something that you would like to tell your children?

While I feel the need to clarify that I don’t actually want children, I’d probably tell them about my friends, how I met them and became close to them and how they impacted my life and wellbeing. I just think that, for a kid, it’s important to know that the friends you make in school might not be your forever friends, might not be close enough to consider family. You might be seventeen, twenty-five, you might be thirty or forty before you find them. They’re out there, I promise.

Peony: What is something that you wish your parents could’ve told you?

Honestly, I wish I’d been told more about my family. I grew up knowing nothing about an entire half of my family. I didn’t know a damn thing about my paternal family until I was about twelve or thirteen, and even now I know hardly anything about them. Not that I don’t appreciate my family’s reasons from hiding this from me, whatever they may be, but it’s hard not to feel like I was cheated out of a potentially huge part of my life and heritage. It was nothing out of the ordinary to have divorced parents, and many of my friends growing up lived in single parent families, but I was always the kid who had never even met my dad, had barely even heard his name. I didn’t even know my parents were married until I found the wedding album. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know why my paternal family was effectively kept a secret from me all this time, I don’t know why I was deprived of the chance to know a whole half of my family, not just my father but my grandparents, my half-siblings, my aunts and uncles and cousins. 

Sorry, I actually got really emotional right then. This is one of the few topics that can always bring me to tears and I can’t lie and say I’m not bitter about it. Even to know that they existed would have been better than growing up with no knowledge at all. I’m sorry, I really don’t think I can talk about this any more. 

Prairie gentian: Do you have a significant other?

I do! The ever-wonderful @skyward-sheik is my queerplatonic partner and soulmate. It’s only sixteen days until I get to go home and see him again <3

September flower: Are you more of a sunshine or sunset person?

Sunset. Growing up on the west coast of a small island meant I’ve always been able to appreciate beautiful ocean sunsets, and I wouldn’t trade those sights for all the tea in China.

Bird of paradise: Do you wake up early? Do you sleep early?

No, I’m pretty awful at both. I have a sleep disorder, Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder, which goes a long way to explaining why I have this problem. I actually sleep for a perfectly normal amount of time if left to my own devices, but my circadian rhythm is just a few hours off what is considered ‘normal’. I naturally fall asleep at about two in the morning, and no medications or lifestyle techniques I’ve tried have ever been able to fix this. Once I learnt more about it my family and I have learnt to work with it rather than against it, and thankfully my new university schedule really helps. I only have to wake up early one day out of the week in this current semester, which has meant that I’ve been properly rested and functioning for the first time in my life. When I was a toddler I had split sleeping and then I’ve been in school ever since with an nine o’clock start, so you can imagine how exhausted I was a lot of the time. Being able to sleep properly has been a revelation.

Marigold: What’s your favourite tea?

I don’t drink hot tea, but I tried iced tea for the first time last week and it was really nice! I went with my friends to a comic book-themed pie cafe called Piecaramba because one of my friends said they did really good iced tea. I took her up on her recommendation and ordered a glass of peach iced tea. I’m really anxious about trying new food and drinks so I was nervous, but it ended up being really nice. So I guess peach iced tea is my favourite type of tea, now.

Peruvian lily: What are the names of your pets?

As much as I would love them, I don’t actually have any pets. Though she passed away earlier, I had a beautiful little canary named Abi for a good eight years. I was already in a really rough spot at the time and losing my sweet little songbird made everything so much harder, not to mention an old bully of mine was mocking me about it online later that day. I think that might have been the same day I decided to start a new blog to get away from him, actually, because that really was the last straw. I don’t know what I would name any future pets and I certainly won’t be getting any in the near future, but I would love another pet someday.

Hyacinth: Do you name your plants?

I do! In fact, I have a whole page detailing my plant collection and their names, where applicable.

Lilac: Would you rather sleep and be cosy or hang out with your friends?

Can I not sleep and be cosy in the company of my friends? I think we both know that that’s the superior answer here.

Poppy: Do you like to dip your fries or do you like it as is?

Dry fries are kind of disgusting, so I always dip them in ketchup. 

Fun fact: a good friend of mine developed a habit in his teens of mixing together mayonnaise and tomato ketchup to create a kind of makeshift, poor man’s Marie Rose sauce so that he could dip his chips in it. That boy is either a genius or a madman.

Dandelion: Any special talent that you have?

I guess some of hobbies count, and my writing? People say I have a natural talent for writing, which I really appreciate. Those kind of comments are a wonder for my self-esteem.

[thornswithroses]

2016 Books I’ve Read

I had been hoping to read more books last year, but I am relieved to have made it halfway to my reading goals. It is a lot better than it was back in 2015. 

Real Murders (Aurora Teagarden, book #1) by Charlaine Harris

I actually enjoy Harris’ other mysteries more than I do the Sookie Stackhouse series. And I’m glad I only bothered with one of the Stackhouse books, considering that I hear how disappointing the last book ended. It does not help that the True Blood series left a bad taste my mouth after how they end Tara. The Harper Connelly books are actually my favorites, but the Teagarden ones may soon prove to be my second. I like Aurora Teagarden, I like how as ridiculous and delightfully flowery of a name she has, she is a grounded person.

Harris likes to describe the clothing her protagonists wear or want, and while I usually enjoy that aspect of writing, it is rather amusing when Harris does it. Namely, because the clothes she describes sound rather dated and probably would be more suited to someone in their sixties rather than their late twenties. 

The writing is sparse but absorbing, and Harris has a flair for a comfortable Agatha Christie likability in most of her works. This is no exception that.

Would recommend: a cozy but gripping reading to relax at night with.

Ash by Malinda Lo

I found myself so frustrated for sweet Ash. I never really appreciated how much the original Cinderella had to overcome until reading this book. Even her beloved father talked over the healing women of their original village, including Ash’s mother. Isobel is one of my most hated characters this year, for how she abuses Ash. And how much of pain Ash goes through could have been avoided if she had been listened to. 

I am usually leery of love triangles where the queer girl has to choose between a man or a woman. I’m bisexual, and I am very much aware that a queer woman is not less queer for wanting to be with a man. However, we cannot argue that heterosexual relationships are prioritized over homosexual ones. We cannot claim that bisexuality is not often dismissed as a curiosity by writers, most especially by male ones. It is 2017, and this shit still occurs. We cannot argue that female sexuality and relationships with women, be they romantic or platonic, are often dismissed in media. 

That said, I knew Malinda Lo was not going to fail me with how she handled Ash’s bisexuality. I used to follow Malinda Lo’s writings on AfterEllen in my Baby Feminist Years, and I do not regret that. She is a phenomenal writer, whether she writes in fiction or nonfiction. 

Ash’s relationships to Sidhean and Kaisa are different but special in her life. With Kaisa, their relationship has the delectability of apples, a tenderness and subtle warmth that is not written enough for gay relationships. With Sidhean, there is a tension for forbidden lust and the gradual trust they grow for one another. 

The ending is satisfying, but that is all I will give to you. I urge you to read this book, especially as it comes from an author that actually actively works with diversifying young adult literature to the best she can. 

Would recommend: a thoughtful, lyrical novel about a girl that overcomes obstacles to find love and her own independence. 

Mary Reilly by Valerie Marin

This is the Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde as seen through the eyes of Mary Reilly, a loyal, hardworking house-maid for the doctor. The book is written as if it were from Mary’s own journaling. 

I like the protagonist. Usually, when the perspectives of fringe characters are written about how they view a famed character, they simplify too many matters.

With Mary, yes, she is enamored but misguided by Dr. Jekyll’s supposed virtues, but as the novella goes on, as palpable as the sexual tension gets between them, she is not shy about pointing out the classism he and the world have on her, at least to herself. 

The book also has her deal with the abuses she undergone as a child from her father’s hands. I will not give spoilers away, but it is rather satisfying how she comes to terms with her abuse after attending a funeral (and, no, it’s not her abuser’s funeral.)

I like the different relationships she has with her fellow servants and how we see the grit of her daily duties. As I said before, the sexual tension between Mary and Dr. Jekyll is deliciously intense. It also helps that they are both shown to genuinely care about each other, adding a certain sweetness to the star-crossed quality of their relationship. 

And when the book wants to be chilling, it does indeed do that.

Would recommend: for all your fun, gothy indulgences!

The Name of The Wind by Patrick Rothfuss

An underrated epic fantasy that seems to understand that the quiet moments of a person’s life is just as important as the high-paced ones. The narration written uniquely, there’s a story-within-a-story with yet another one hidden somewhere under there. 

I enjoy reading older, isolated, world-weary Kvothe and how that contrasts with him telling his story of a younger, bright-eyed him that wants to learn and wants to avenge his loved ones. 

The book is a big one, and it is filled to the brim of so many conflicts and adventures. The humor is vibrant as red, the constant worry of poverty always hitting close to home for me, and his friendships and rivalries with everyone makes one feel invigorating. Oh, believe me, there is plenty of darker aspects to this story, and plenty of moments where I had to take a break from reading because it hurt too much at times. But Rothfuss seems to have the instinctual sense of when enough is enough, unlike the likes of George R.R. Martin and Joss Whedon.

Sometimes I got annoyed with how it felt like the author’s own feelings spilled somewhere. I thought the book could get too dismissive of the beliefs of the rural villages, and, believe me, I hate the concept of a sweet, harmless small town, especially when it mostly features white people. I’m no Stars Hollow fangirl, but my issue is rather it does not look at it through a nuanced lens.

All in all, what issues I have are little compared to so many factors that had me enjoy this book.

Would recommend: for people looking for a rich narrative that carves out many emotions from you, especially if you’re looking for an elaborate fantasy.

Decreation by Anne Carson

I am going to be real with you.

There are a lot of elements to this book that have flown over my head. 

Decreation holds so many references and vocabulary that had me searching all sorts of sources to understand. 

I have been interested in reading Anne Carson since seeing so many snippets of her words around.  It's possibly odd to say that being confused by the book and having to do research to know it makes me enjoy "Decreation" very much. I like books that force me to think. I like books that have the sort of lines that ring well together like a series of synchronizing bells. Anne Carson has an enthralling mind, and I look forward to reading more of her work. If you want to read a challenging book with prose and poetry that is clean and shining like knives, this is the book for you

Would recommend: for people looking for something that makes them want to ponder and to be lulled by the beauty of how words are arranged.

The Poison Eaters and Other Stories by Holly Black

When it comes to short story collections, let's face it, there are going to be stories that you adored, stories you're indifferent to, and stories you just really, really, really hate. For most of the stories in this collection, I enjoyed them immensely. I remember when I read Holly Black's first novel, Tithe, I was absorbed by the lush prose. I can only describe it as like a spiderweb, how it shimmered and ensnared. I am crestfallen that she has simplified that style over the years, I wish YA authors can trust their readers, especially the teenage ones, into appreciating descriptive prose. One of the reasons why I moved from YA literature to adult fiction by the time I was sixteen was because I got tired of the simple style of writing. I wanted to challenge myself more, and I wanted to appreciate the art of language. I still do. Holly Black's style is still not how it was in her Tithe days, but the stories are still written in an eye-catching way. Maybe not like a spiderweb, but surely as the sheen of water. My favorites were: "The Coldest Girl in Coldtown" is about vampire towns, need I say more? "The Boy Who Cried Wolf" had an interesting take of becoming a wolf where it is a flower instead of a bloody chomp that turns you. I will admit I have always had a soft spot for beautiful things that cause horror. "The Night Market" was a delightful romance with a Filipino girl with a port stain birthmark on her face that has an elf in a tree enamored with her, much to her surprise and frustration. It was entertaining to see their dynamic of challenging and outwitting one another, especially over the girl's sister's safety. "The Dog King" was with wolves in a castle, literally and metaphorically. "The Coat of Stars" was about a gay man rescuing his lost love, with the bonus of costume porn. "The Land of Heart's Desire" had me the excellent opportunity of reuniting with beloved characters from Black's Modern Faerie Tales series. The last story, "The Poison Eaters," I love the unique narration, the way the girl that was a weapon became a strategist for revenge. The stories I disliked were few and far. "A Reversal of Fortune" had an endearing pit bull dog, but that's all the positivity I can give it. The story's concept sounded good--a girl challenges the Devil to save her pet's life--but written in such a weak and juvenile way that was also, to put it bluntly, gross. "Virgin" also had an interesting concept but I feel this had the potential to have been expanded more, whether novel-length or just a longer short story. "In Vodka Veritas" went too far into the silly route for me, especially for an interesting concept as having a Bacchanal in a high school prom. The narrator was also annoying as fuck. "Paper Cuts Scissors" should have expanded the characters more, it was a shallow little story. "Going Ironside" was hard to follow and it had a good concept but a lukewarm execution.

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison

The Goblin Emperor is a political fantasy that is loving and hopeful and does not move through violence necessarily so much as surviving the eyes and gossip of a land that does not always see half-Goblins like Maia in high regards. I like my prickly books; I appreciate the blood and the lust and the anger, and all the other juicy bits of a harrowing plot. Believe me, I do. However, I honestly find the politics here and in the Kushiel's Legacy far more engrossing than in famous works such as Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" series. Maia is proof that having a genuinely sweet personality does not make one a dull protagonist. He is an underdog and coming from an abusive home life will certainly have readers already feeling protective of him. The biggest charm out of Maia however, is how Maia uses his goodness and need for survival to be calculating as Maia moves into the Emperor role. He's calculating how good his ruling should be. That is striking to me. He holds similar characteristics to one of my favorite fantasy characters, Sansa Stark. The characters surrounding him, all differing arrays of morals, are also striking. His bodyguards that are quite the sun-and-moon pair in demeanor and strength, his loyal assistant, his fiance, a passionate warrior girl. All in all, this was a satisfying read and one that I will enjoy rereading again and again. 

Would recommend: if you love character-driven stories set in a lush, intricately-woven setting with one of the most likable protagonists around. 

Carpathia by Cecilia Woloch

Woloch writes of moving, of grief, of love, all with great aplomb. There is a birdlike quality to her words as she talks about her father, his death, love, of moving across so many landscapes. Her poems have the serenity of the color blue. I cannot wait to see read more from her. 

Would recommend: if you want to be lulled by beautiful wording and imagery.

The Divinity Student by Michael Cisco

This book is like reading one long hallucination. The surrealism is everywhere, the horror underlying everything. The imagery is haunting in the best of ways, it feels like smoke clinging to your clothes. There is no logic to this story. You just cannot make sense of it. There is a reason why Cisco is often compared to Franz Kafka.

Would recommend: if you want to pore over surrealism and odd imagery rather than a particular plot. 

Uprooted by Naomi Novik

One of the most satisfying fantasies I have read the past few years. Novik knows how to make twists and she knows how to make those twists flow right. While I could feel old-school sort of fantasy as a backbone to this story, it still stands all on its own. The characters were vivid in their personalities.

Sometimes I had frustrations with Agnieszka, with how much she fussed over dealing with fancy indulgences. There is nothing wrong with her for preferring a rural, simpler life, but it felt tacked-on too often. At least it is not as bad as Hunger Games, where the bad guys in that story enjoyed to opulent, feminine indulgences that had something of a homophobic coding too. 

I do adore how Agnieszka’s clumsiness is not made to be endearing, but a human flaw. I wish to have seen more of her friendship with Kasia and see her relationship with the Dragon get developed more but all in all, it was enjoyable. 

The magic system was also beautifully envisioned and executed. 

Would recommend: character-driven, brilliant world-building, and unique storytelling.

Batgirl, Volume 1: The Darkest Reflection by Gail Simone

I hate the new 52. I hate most of it. I'm probably not going to read most titles from DC for a while. I am still not forgiving them for that hot topic nightmare that is Harley Quinn's makeover. I also have a small confession to make.

As a child, I was not that interested in Batgirl. I liked her enough on the Adam West show. I thought it was fantastic that she was a librarian. I thought Yvonne Craig was lovely. Other than that depiction, I barely gave thought to Barbara Gordon. 

With DC animation, my holy trinity of favorite female characters was Huntress (Bertinelli), Wonder Woman, and Catwoman. In recent years, especially with the passing of Craig, I've come to appreciate her more, value her character, her relationships with others, her strong will, her kindness, her flaws, her mistakes. Gail Simone actually made her a whole person to me when she was Oracle. And while I am still pissed that she is not that anymore, Simone's writing had me cheer for Barbara in getting back out onto the streets. This volume shows the ups and downs of her friendships to people she has known for a long time, the tentative friendship with her roommate that has the potential to expand a lot deeper, and above all, her relationship with both her parents. It always annoyed me when superhero stories got with the Disney Parent Problem, where there was only one parent active in the protagonist's life and how that was most often the father. Here, we see Barbara's mother and how their relationship is broken, and you feel for both of them. You want to be angry with Barbara's mom for leaving the family, but you also empathize her efforts into healing that rift, especially how they're not quite satisfied; no doubt there is a deeper story about why exactly she left. You understand Barbara's hurt but you also know she's not one to deal with emotions, including bitterness, well, and she is not above pettiness and evasiveness. I really look forward to where this goes in the next volumes.

Would recommend: for long-time Batgirl fans and for those interested in getting to know her more.

Ms. Marvel, Volume 1: No Normal by G. Willow Wilson

Kamala Khan has to be one of the sweetest characters I ever had the fortune of reading. She’s awkward, silly, earnest, and good-intentioned.

Some of the dialogue does feel stilted. I am guessing because Wilson is still trying to balance showing real-life issues while telling a story. I know people had issues with how static her family feels at the moment, although from what I’ve seen, they do develop well as the series goes on.

Would recommend: a fun, charismatic read that personally makes me think back to watching favorite Saturday morning cartoons.