#also i just read the poem that this is based on… oh my god i’m speechless . WOW i actually have no words

[gothsuguru]

@staryukis @teddybeartoji @mossmotif @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat

subject, specimen, spectacle;

should i say that you're dead?

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for October 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Impactful by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Having “packs” sort of belonged to the past, but it wasn’t entirely unheard of to move in with a bunch of friends as adults. It was practical in many ways: there would almost always be somebody home to receive packages, they could divvy up the house work and share living costs, they would always have friends around and if any of them had children, their aunties and uncles could look after them!

So. It wasn’t unheard of. But it was definitely a thing they would be called hippies for. In fact, almost all of them had already been called hippies and weirdos for it.

＊ Travel Blog Entry #28 by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou [G, 89 words, Harry/Louis]

Harry and Louis return home from a holiday. The last post on their travel blog is this poem.

＊ Hold Me Like A Grudge by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou [G, 890 words, Louis/Harry]

You can press your lips to someone’s skin and know this is the last time.

＊ And Now I'm Falling For You by @enchantedlandcoffee [T, 711 words, Harry/Louis]

“What did you do?!” Louis exclaimed as he waded out of the water, Harry hot on his heels. “I tried to save you! You know, this is the part where you tell me I’m your hero, and then you-” “And then I what, Styles? Shower you with kisses? Get a freaking grip, Harry. We’re not in one of your ‘old-school musicals’ with cheesy background music and full on choreographed dancing! This is reality and you just ruined my chances of riding one of the biggest waves the town had ever seen!” “Well, I’m sorry for not wanting to watch my best friend drown because he was too stubborn to admit that the bloody sea was too dangerous for him to surf in.” “That’s not what was happening and you know it.”

OR Snapshots of A Teen Beach Movie Larry AU with a twist

＊ I regret you all the time by @disgruntledkittenface [E, 3k, Louis/William Prince of Wales]

Louis’ friends don’t understand, and they wouldn’t even if he explained. But every time William texts, Louis drops everything to go see him.

＊ I'm the Big Fish by @lululawrence [NR, 5k, Louis/Pedro Pascal]

Pedro laughed with the man in front of him who… oh god. Was that Oscar Isaac? Louis wasn’t going to survive if he was left in this room with those two for long. He should probably make his exit, except then Pedro started doing some sort of freestyle it looked like while Oscar cheered him on. Louis couldn’t help but chuckle and was trying to hide his smile as he watched on when Pedro turned and looked directly at Louis, freezing when he did so.

After an awkward moment at a party he wasn't actually invited to, Louis keeps running into the incredibly attractive Pedro Pascal. Somehow, it's Pedro who manages to keep making a fool of himself, causing Louis to grow increasingly more confused at his behavior while also feeling more drawn to him. Maybe someday they'll be able to manage a moment that doesn't end in one of them feeling the need to run from the room in order to escape the other.

＊ Glammer, Top Hats, Cigars and Suits by @rockstarlwt28 [NR, 3k, Louis/Dominic Harrison | Yungblud]

Based in the 1920s - Alternate Universe.

When Isla found a love for the melody formed by a strumming of strings, Louis didn't expect to fall equally in love with his daughter’s guitar teacher, Dominic Harrison.

＊ Bouncing off the Wall by @signofcomfort [G, 34k, Louis/Harry]

Harry Styles is Louis' self-declared enemy, but it doesn't help that they are neighbours and their families are friends.

＊ Spirits by itsraininginengland / @ilovellama14 [E, 4k, Louis/Oscar Isaac]

A one shot set in and Edwardian music hall. Prompt from and written for the Louis rarepair fest. This was a challenge and a pleasure to write.

Edwardian music hall performer Louis Tomlinson meets the newest act in the show, the American magician Oscar Isaac. Romance, smut and a seance ensue. Also featuring best friend wing man Harry Styles.

＊ That's Happiness To Me by @louislittletomlintum [E, 24k, Zayn/Liam/Louis]

“Seems we’ve got a little conundrum on our hands,” Louis murmured into Zayn’s ear, feeling his hands settle back on his waist and pressing a little closer.

“Mm. Seems we do,” Zayn responded, and Louis liked to think his voice was at least a bit intrigued.

Louis’ mind was whirring. He’d wanted to try and get with Liam tonight, but now a new, better idea was forming. Getting Liam with Zayn, if possible, would be something of a dream come true. It would maybe blow Liam’s tiny brain, but sometimes you had to make sacrifices for good things to happen.

“Do you wanna try pull him together?” Louis asked Zayn curiously, grinning against his skin when he felt his hands grip tighter.

＊ It’s a Craving Not a Crush by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [E, 9k, Liam/Louis]

All around him, his coworkers have started pulling out their chosen lunches. And Liam does the same, reaching down to the backpack at his feet and pulling out the Tupperware of leftover spaghetti he’d packed this morning.

When he sets it on the table he notices a little neon pink post it note on the lid that he didn’t remember being there before. Written on the note in messy scrawl it says: Have a wonderful day husband! Can’t wait to suck you off when you get home!! XOXO -Lou.

Liam feels his face go bright red again as he hastily rips off the note and crumples it in his fist. He glances around the table, but thankfully no one seems to be paying him any attention. They’re all wrapped up in their own food items or listening to whatever their boss is talking about.

(Or the one where Liam and Louis are best bros who end up getting married so that Liam has the insurance he needs to go to rehab. Now that he’s sober, they can get divorced. But do they want to?)

- Fic Fests -

＊ 1D Alpha Louis Fest / @1dalphalouisfest / Masterpost

Fics that involve Alpha Louis Tomlinson

＊ 1D Flower Fest / @1d-flower-fest / Masterpost

A fest dedicated to inspiring fics and artwork about flowers in the 1D fandom.

[acrystalwitch]

(***NO N*zis or TERFs allowed to interact with this post or my blog*** This is a post for Norse pagans or polytheists looking to work with Odin. This is all based on my own experiences working with the all father and nothing here is to be taken as a hard fact. If your practice differs from my own that is totally fine. There will be a lot of UPG and SPG)

An incomplete summary of Odin in Norse mythology.

Odin, god of war and wisdom is a key figure in the Norse myths and is involved in a lot of the stories. He is the head of the Norse gods and is called the All father, because it’s by him that all of humans were created. He is married to Frigg and together they had Baldur and Hodr. Odin also has other sons, Thor, Vali, and Vidar.

He has two ravens Huginn and Muninn, and two wolves Geri and Freki.

He only has one eye, he sacrificed his other eye by throwing it into Mimir’s well in exchange for knowledge that could better help him prevent Ragnarok.

Another famous story of his is when he hung upside down from the tree of life for nine days and nine nights to get knowledge of other worlds and to be able to know everything about the runes.

The type of magic he practices (Seiðr) was a feminine type of magic that wasn’t always looked highly on when men would participate in it. Yet our Allfather was very practiced in it.

My experience working with him: One thing to know about working with Odin going in, he will be very honest and blunt. My other deities have a habit of being softer on my feelings than I’ve heard other devotees say they’ve been with them, I’m assuming because I’m very sensitive. But Odin..? He does not care. He will stop giving advice if I tell him I don’t want to hear it. But, if I ask for advice…oh boy, am I gonna get his full opinion. He is very much a father in the way he goes about things, he cares but he wants his followers to push themselves as much as they can, learning as much as you can and always growing, never staying sedentary for too long.

I have a notebook dedicated to him that I’ve been using to work on learning the runes and that seems to be the best offering to give him in my practice right now. He never misses a chance to remind me I need to get back to learning the runes too.

I always wondered why it mattered so much to him that I learn them. Eventually he told me that it was because they really would be useful in spells, and wards and making bind runes out of them is something I’m learning to do now.

He is not the easiest deity to work with, he may even push your buttons on purpose to get you to think harder on things. I’ve noticed he’s even been rude before just to see if I’d stand up for myself and set boundaries and then he’ll explain himself after. Lots of tests trials and teachings. But man, is it worth it for the immense amount of knowledge and mentorship that he can bring. All in all, I’m glad he came to me later in my practice as I might’ve been scared off from deity work if he was the first. But, I love him to pieces and hope to work with him for a long time.

Offerings and associations of Odin

(Odin does not eat food so I’ve seen many people say not to give him food offerings, I disagree! Give him things that he can feed to Geri and Freki. He is known to still fill his plate and just give them bits over meals. So don’t hesitate to gift him any food offerings you would to any other Norse god)

-colors: gray, dark blue, black

- tree Imagery, Yggdrasil in particular

- raven Imagery, black feathers

- wolf Imagery

- clear quartz

- onyx

- blue goldstone

- amethyst

- carnelian

- the hermit tarot card

- the hanged man tarot card

- the four of cups tarot card

- the king of swords tarot card

- mead, wine, alcohol

- poetry (he writes poems!)

- mugwort scent/incense

- Ansuz rune ᚨ

- learn about the runes

- learn his myths

- learn useful and practical knowledge

- read books

- ask him for advice

There are many more ways to learn about him and get close to him. A great one is reading the Hávamál. If you meditate or do tarot or rune casting those are also great ways to contact him and get closer to him.

Signs he might be reaching out; seeing ravens more than usual or in non native areas, very windy days, rain, seeing his name often, feeling drawn to his mythology, seeing his tarot cards pop up often, you already work with one of his sons (I think he sent Thor to me first to soften my idea of the Norse gods and be a warm intro into their pantheon.)

He is a great god to work with, lots of work though. Odin is not for the weak minded, but he’s been so worth getting to know.

[hairstevington]

Hi! I would love to see the 1st Valentine’s Day prompt(a bouquet of their favourite flowers) for steddie! Specifically Eddie bringing Steve flowers(idk why but I’m a firm believer that Steve secretly loves getting gifted flowers lol!). If you do do this thank you so much!! <3333

Ahhhhhh yes LET’S GOOOO!!! Thanks for the request! (Ao3 link here!)

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: Some reeeeal fluffy shit, Eddie secretly pining over his best friend Steve, gay scheming, romance

A/N: This ended up being a bit more than just flowers, but hopefully it suffices! If anyone else is interested here is the prompt post, I also took inspiration from this cute lil post by @grandwretch :)

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Eddie always teased Steve about his romantic conquests. They frequently discussed best practices for him to woo women - including knowing their favorite color, their birthday, their favorite movie, etc. Eddie watched Steve date beautiful woman after beautiful woman, always putting in so much effort and getting so little back.

That's probably why Eddie started doing it.

"Should I get her the blue bracelet or the green one?" Steve would ask.

"I dunno man, what's her favorite color?"

"Blue. But her eyes are green."

"Get the blue. The two colors look good together anyway," Eddie answered as if he was somehow the person to ask about such things. He'd never really dated anyone, but he'd seen a lot of movies, and watched a lot of high school couples date each other.

"Thanks," Steve would say. He was always appreciative for the second opinion, even though the opinion was based on nothing.

"No problem," Eddie smiled. "Hey, what's your favorite color?"

Any time Steve asked for advice, Eddie would eventually turn it back on Steve. It was all part of his master plan, you see - he wanted to make Steve feel special on Valentine's Day. Not in a gay way, he told himself. Steve's my friend, it's not like that.

He tried to convince himself he was doing it platonically, or because it would be funny to see Steve all flustered, but deep down Eddie knew that it was far more than that.

But him and Steve were friends, and that's all they'd ever be, and he'd accepted that.

A week before Valentine's Day, there was a package on Steve's doorstep addressed to him. He wasn't expecting any mail, and the box was so haphazardly wrapped it was almost scary. Like, he was pretty sure he'd seen this exact set-up in a horror movie. Main character gets mysterious package that ends up ruining their life.

(It didn't end up ruining his life, but it sure as hell changed it)

Inside the box was a teddy bear - one of those real cutesie ones you find at a giftshop this time of year. Steve was confused, and wondered if it was even delivered to the right place - sure enough, there was a handwritten note that confirmed it. I call him Steve Bearington, it read. Steve smiled, but still had no idea who it was from. The girl that he'd gone on a few dates with could never have been responsible for the disastrous way the gift was wrapped. He shrugged. It must have been a secret admirer - he got those sometimes.

He told Eddie about it the next day, and Eddie pretended to act surprised. He didn't want to give his secret away, especially when he went so far as to ask some random person to write out the stupid note so that Steve wouldn't recognize his handwriting. He probably should have asked them to wrap it, too, but whatever. Steve was so happy about it, so Eddie continued with his plan.

Eddie learned that Steve liked sour candy over chocolate, so he got him some. Then he wrote him a poem - it wasn't, like, the greatest thing ever written, but Eddie did tend to have a way with words. He delivered the candy two days before Valentine's Day, and on the eve of the holiday he had one of his other friends discreetly stick the poem on Steve's front door and ding-dong-ditch while he and Eddie were hanging out, just to throw him off his game even more.

"Oh my god, they did it again," Steve said when he picked the poem from the door. "Who is this person?" Eddie appreciated that he said person, instead of woman.

"What does it say?" Eddie asked, biting his lip to keep from grinning. He watched as Steve read it to himself first, his brow furrowing.

"It's, uh," he said, folding it nicely and putting it in his pocket. "It's good."

Hell yeah it is, Eddie thought to himself.

Steve had a date on Valentine's Day - Eddie knew this, and it was to be expected anyway, since Steve almost always had a date on most days. He was leaving at 7, so Eddie showed up at 6.

-----------------------------------------------------

Steve didn't have much more to do to get ready for the date - he was already having a good hair day, and he'd picked out an outfit that had done him well in the past. He just was still caught up on who wrote him that poem.

Nobody had written him a poem before, like ever. Steve hadn't ever attempted to write one for anyone else. He wasn't that good at analyzing them in English class, so he'd grown a bit tired of poetry as a whole.

But the one left on his front door sparked a new appreciation for it.

He was confused when the doorbell rang, because he wasn't expecting anybody. Then, he wondered if maybe, he'd find another poem out there.

Instead, he found Eddie. Well, actually, he found a person standing there with flowers covering their face, but the mane of curly brown hair surrounding the flowers gave him away.

They were daisies. Eddie was probably the only person in the world that knew Steve liked daisies, and it wasn't even something he'd explicitly said. He just knew he was drawn to them when he saw them, and he'd pointed them out a few times while he was with Eddie.

"Special Valentine's delivery for Harrington!" Eddie announced, letting himself in. Steve watched as he set them on the table, confident as always, a bright smile on his face. But Steve was mostly just confused.

"What...the hell?" Eddie's bravado faltered just a little bit.

"Hasn't anyone ever gotten you flowers before?" Eddie asked.

"No, but I've bought a lot of flowers before, and -"

"Tsk tsk tsk," Eddie interrupted. "My point exactly. You deserve flowers too, Steve."

"God, what's with all the gifts from people this week?" Steve whined, completely overwhelmed. "Between this and the secret admirer thing, I just -"

Steve's head was spinning, and he wasn't the most observant person, but he did have enough sense to notice the way Eddie winced at the mention of the secret admirer.

"Yeah, well," Eddie said, his tone softer than before. "Like I said, you deserve it."

There was a thick silence as Steve realized what was happening.

"Eddie..." he said, putting it all together. Eddie was the only one who would have known to get him any of that stuff. Steve openly told Eddie all kinds of things he never admitted to anyone else, because he didn't think Eddie was paying attention. He certainly didn't think Eddie had been filing it away to do this.

"I hope you have a good date tonight," Eddie said, suddenly feeling quite stupid about this whole thing. He turned to leave, but Steve stopped him.

"The poem - you wrote it?" Eddie nodded.

Steve thought about straight-up reciting it to Eddie in that moment, to prove to him just how much he liked it. He'd read it so many times it was burned into his brain, just as he wanted it to be.

Huh.

He wasn't expecting this from his best friend, but he was shocked at how weird it didn't feel. Finding out Eddie had been his secret admirer just made sense.

"Doesn't have to be a big deal," Eddie mumbled. "I just - I don't want this to - Like, I'm sorry if -"

"I gotta go cancel my plans with Deb," Steve said.

"What?"

"She'll live. Besides, it wouldn't be that cool of me to go out with someone when I'm thinking about someone else."

"What?" Eddie repeated. He really didn't expect to get this far. "What are you saying?"

Steve smiled - his brilliant, trademark smile that always made Eddie feel warm inside.

"Do you wanna be my Valentine, Munson?"

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

[dkniade]

English localization of Zhongli’s and Nahida’s Archon titles, Genshin Impact Character Title Localization in General, and Zhongli’s title of Yanwang Dijun

I was reading the wiki page for the current Archons (and their names & titles) and the more I think about their titles the more I feel the English localization of Zhongli’s title is strange.

Here (just the ones from the five released regions):

.

Venti/Barbatos, Lord Barbatos, God of Freedom, Anemo Archon, of Mondstadt

Zhongli/Morax, Rex Lapis, God of Contracts, Geo Archon, of Liyue

Raiden Ei/Beelzebul, Raiden Shogun, God of Eternity, Electro Archon, of Inazuma

Nahida/Buer, Lesser Lord Kusanali, God of Wisdom, Dendro Archon, of Sumeru

Furina/Focalors, Lady Furina, God of Justice, Hydro Archon, of Fontaine

.

….face in hands. Why is Zhongli’s Archon title 岩王帝君 (Yanwang Dijun / Yan3wang3 Di4jun1) officially localized in Latin (with the meaning of King of Stone). Of course I’m used to seeing it because he’s consistently referred to as Rex Lapis in English, but if you really think about it:

“Hello, I’m a god in what’s basically a Chinese xianxia setting. I’m the god of stone and contracts, and I know a lot about the traditions of my nation, which is based on Chinese culture. For some time, I was seen as the leader or even emperor of my nation. I’m worshipped with a Latin title by my own people”

…

(I’ll explain the Chinese title’s meaning further below.)

-

Some time ago, I watched the first few minutes of the Sumeru Archon Quest in Japanese. Paimon mentions the Dendro Archon by title: クラクサナリデビ.

In romaji, this is Kura Kusanari Debi. (According to her wiki page, literally speaking, this title means Little Kusanali Devi.)

I can’t confirm its accuracy, but the etymology section of her page says this:

.

The name Kusanali likely refers to the Kusanāḷi-Jātaka, one of the poems within the Jātaka, a series of 547 Buddhist poems detailing the previous births of Buddha. The Kusanāḷi-Jātaka specifically details the encounter with a tree sprite.

"Kusanāḷi" itself is derived from the Pali words kusa ("kusa-grass," a sacred plant used in Hindu ceremonies) and nāḷi ("a hollow stalk or tube").

.

and

.

In Korean, the name is 쿠사나리 데비 Kusanari Debi. The word 데비 Debi derived from the Sanskrit or Pali word devī ("goddess" or "queen").

In Japanese, the name is クラクサナリデビ Kura Kusanari Debi, where デビ Debi may be of the same derivation as above, and クラ Kura may be derived from the Pali word khudda ("small", "inferior" or "low"). Kura may also be derived from the Persian word خدا Khuda ("Lord" or "God").

.

Genshin Impact doesn’t have Sanskrit as an available subtitle language but I wonder what would her title be in Sanskrit…? And if any of the official subtitle languages are similar to a theoretical Sanskrit title…

-

Oh, also, a note on character titles in Genshin Impact:

Since the original language is in Chinese, it seems most of the time a (non-Liyue) character’s Chinese title will not be a phonetic transcription. Instead, the Chinese title will be based on meaning, and the English localization will likely take that meaning and either localize it into English, or into the language “native” to the in-game region (and real-life culture).

For example, a Fontainian title, a Mondstadtian title, and a Liyue title would all have Chinese meaning in the Chinese version, but they’ll probably be localized into either English for all three, or French, German, and Chinese pinyin respectively (….or Latin. It’s not very consistent in Liyue) in the English version.

Here:

.

Lyney’s Chinese title (from his key visual) 惑光幻戏 (Magic of Puzzling Lights) is localized as “Spectacle of Phantasmagoria” in the English version, but theoretically they could also localize it into French as “Spectacle de fantasmagorie” (as it is in the official French version)

Albedo’s Chinese title 白垩之子 (Son of Chalk) is localized as the German “Kreideprinz” (Chalk Prince) but theoretically they could also could localize it into English as “Chalk Prince”

.

(What’s a good example for a Liyue character that doesn’t need extensive explanation on Daoism… Ah whatever. I’ll explain Zhongli’s own Archon title.)

.

Zhongli’s title as an Archon is 岩王帝君 (Yanwang Dijun, roughly meaning God of King of Stone). The first two hanzi characters mean stone and king (hence the English localization of Rex Lapis, Latin for King of Stone). But that lacks the nuance and cultural significance in the Chinese title.

.

帝君 (dijun) is (I believe…) a Daoist title of reverence added to a god’s name. So putting it together, 岩王帝君 can either be localized into pinyin as Yanwang Dijun (in a similar way that MDZS’s 夷陵老祖 Yiling Laozu is known as the Yiling Patriarch)… Or Lord Stone King if you really want but that has different religious connotations…

帝君 is similar to 真君 (zhenjun, another Daoist title for gods) which is often used for the Liyue 仙 (xian, localized as Adepti) characters. (In English, an adept, plural form adepts, refers to someone who’s very skilled at something. It seems in the game 仙 includes both Adepti with animal forms and Adepti with human forms, and 仙人 xianren specifically refers to Adepti who appear human, like Xiao.)

[shy-sapphic-ace]

1, 6, 22, 54

Ooh yay! Thanks for the ask ^^

1. Tell us about your WIP!

Uhhhh well I guess my most current story would be my detective story, a only vaguely historically accurate 1950s noir with a little bit of romance, it doesn’t have much of a solid plot but I’m trying to familiarise myself with writing mysteries and stuff! But I haven’t worked on that in a while,,,

5. Top five formative books?

Not sure what “formative” would mean here? I don’t really have books that taught me how to write but books that definitely inspired me to do it would be the Lord of the Rings (even though I could never even compare to Tolkien’s writing style), the Éternels series I read as a child (I wish I could remember the author’s name but I loved those books so much), literally anything by TJ Klune that makes me go “oh wow I want to write like that someday”, also literally anything by Rick Riordan because his books kind of changed my life as a kid, annnnd a fifth…… uhhh I can’t think of one right now :T

22. Tell us about the books on your

"to write" list

Okayy so I’ll just copy-paste this again from my other post where I already answered this :))

My fave would be my 1920s queer coming of age circus story, for now titled “Tightrope and Trapeze” even though that will probably change,,

It’s about a teenage “girl” named Joan who lives in 1921 New York and lives on her own, and she dresses like a guy and cuts her hair short so that everyone knows her as a guy and calls her “John” and only a few ppl don’t know that’s what she (yes, she) was born as. She lives in the streets and roofs as a pickpocket until she joins a travelling circus, first as a minor employee (like a cleaner or ticket seller) then as a trapeze artist once she discovers she has a talent for that. The other circus performers and employees are all some kind of flavour of queer as well, and they’re very found family and all that. My favourite is Phillip, the ringmaster, because he’s everyone’s dad :). She travels with them, and with these new people and experiences, Joan comes to understand stuff about gender and sexuality, and she also falls in love with the circus’ tightrope walker, a teenage trans girl called Donna who’s really sweet and helps her with her training. It’s basically just found family stuff and coming to terms with her sexuality and gender identity (for now I’m keeping her gender vague because I haven’t decided what would fit best but she’d use she/her and maybe (still not sure) he/him) in an era that’s still not very accepting.

54. Favorite first line/opening you've written?

“Annabel Lee, Annabel Lee,

please come back to me!

You were a lady, and I was a lady,

God says it was never meant to be!

Annabel Lee, Annabel Lee,

won't you please come back to me?”

When I wake in the morning, I sing to you.

// Okay it’s not that good of an opening but I really like this one, it’s from my short story I called “Annabel Lee, Annabel Lee” based on Edgar Allan Poe’s poem “Annabel Lee”, the original being about someone whose true love dies at sea. Mine is a queer retelling where both the narrator and Annabel Lee are women, Annabel Lee being a sailor who finally left to the sea after the townspeople’s pressures against her and her lover, and died there. The story takes place seven years later as the narrator, driven mad with grief, still believes Annabel Lee is going to return from the sea and waits for her every day as she tends to the lighthouse that’s supposed to take her home,,, basically the song is a kind of constant in her life, and she sings every hour of every day as she waits for her true love to come back, and the story starts and ends with the same verses of the song except where the people who claim “it was never meant to be” change between God, their family, the townspeople, and so on. Oops I yapped on a bit but this is one of my fave stories I’ve written ^^

[dibidibifiction]

Reasons to Live

Pairing: Kim Jonghyun x Reader

Category: romance

TRIGGER WARNING: depression, self-harm, death, foul language

Word count: 3.5k+

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.  

masterlist

...

TWO YEARS EARLIER

JONGHYUN

I hear the curtain metal rings slide harshly two opposite ways, shocking me awake. 

“Oh, good. You were sleeping with your mouth open.”

“Great. Thanks, Mom,” I say sarcastically, rubbing my eyes.

“It’s already ten past five. I’m going home. Are you going to be okay?” my mom asks. She has taken care of me since day one I’ve been in this hospital. But now, since I’ve improved a lot, I insisted that she doesn’t have to visit every day. 

“Yes, ma’am,” I roll my eyes jokingly.

“Aww, Jonghyun, you should find a woman who will take care of you from now on instead of bothering me,” she joins my kidding around.

After she pinches my cheeks and kisses me, she heads out the door. I sit up to reach for my phone on the side table. I got messages from the boys on our group chat.

14:36

Kim Kibum: Hey, Kim Jonghyun! When are you getting discharged? You’re delaying our project. Get your shit together, yeah? Love you

15:18

Jinki: They ran some tests on you a few days ago, right? How did they go?

15:24

Minho: Hope everything’s okay, Hyung. We’re just here waiting for you~

16:20

Taemin: Hyung, did you receive my fruit basket? Hope you like it.

Reading their messages instantly puts a smile on my face. I start typing to reply that everything’s good and that I’m getting out of here soon. Maybe next week at the very least. 

I’ve been in this hospital for almost a month because of the car accident on my drive to my parents’ house after work. It was already dark and I was on the expressway when it started to rain so heavily that visibility was close to zero. Unexpectedly, a huge truck was running too fast in my direction. I managed to avoid it but then made me hit an electric post. Even though I was in a coma for three days, still, lucky for me, I had very little damage compared to others who have gotten into accidents like this.

I’ve never felt more alive. It may be hard to believe or even admit, but it might be a miracle, what happened to me. I was in such unbearable pain that I could already imagine my loved ones crying at my funeral.

I grab my little notebook and head up to the rooftop. I sit in my usual spot, which is at the very corner of the floor, overlooking the city. The city lights are like stars, the cars like elves, and the people like ants. It’s like a whole new weird world. I pull up my pen inserted at the last page I wrote on. Every time I have an idea for a song or a poem, I always write it here. 

As I’m turning the pages to look back on what I’ve written, I catch a glimpse of someone’s legs way across this wide rooftop. It looks like a person lying on the floor. 

“Hello?” I call out. 

No response. 

“Excuse me, are you okay?” My voice is a little louder, hoping to be heard.

Still nothing. Not even a subtle movement.

I drop everything and walk briskly over to check on them. 

I gasp at a young girl in a hospital gown like mine, which means she must be a patient too. I draw closer to see that she’s unconscious. And pale.

My heart twists, I hurriedly kneel down to her side and lightly put my head on her chest to check her heartbeat. 

Shit, I hear nothing. A quick shiver sends through me. 

Her pulse. I quickly grab her hand to feel her wrist and hope to feel something. 

Thank God. I exhale after what feels like twenty minutes. “Stay here. I’ll go get help.” 

I run down four flights of stairs and realize how ridiculous that sounded since she couldn’t even hear me. I finally reach the nearest nurse’s station, catching my breath in order to get words out. 

“Excuse me! There’s a girl up on the roof. She’s unconscious. Please help!” 

A nurse nods once and quickly picks up the telephone. She recites something I didn’t quite understand. Two guys with a stretcher appear immediately and ask me to let lead the way.

. . .

It’s now hours later and I can’t stop thinking about her. My last sight of her keeps flashing before my eyes. She was pale and almost lifeless. She looks pretty with her dark neck-length hair, her thin bangs fly off her forehead because of the wind. I wonder what’s wrong with her. I hope she’s okay now. Turns out she is the one who stays in the room next to mine.

My door slowly opens for a nurse to take the tray of my already finished dinner. “Hey, um, do you know what happened to the girl next door?”

“Do you know her?” he asks me right back, his eyes dead.

“Actually, yeah, I went to college with her.” I lie.

“Oh, okay, then,” he sighs. “Well, she attempted to kill herself again.”

My jaws drop in shock. “What?” I stutter. My heart sinks even more at the word ‘again.’

“It’s the third time she’s done that during her stay here. I really hope she'll stop. I’m worried about her. She doesn’t even have a family for us to call for a situation like this. There’s only this one guy that comes over every now and then.” His eyes suddenly change and fill up with pity when he walks out the door.

---

PRESENT DAY

Y/N

I run to the bus stop to see Jonghyun already waiting for me by his car in hazard mode at the side of the road. Two weeks passed and this is the most I’ve seen him since he’s been busy with his comeback. 

He spots me, then waves so happily that he’s almost jumping.

I land in his arms. “Jonghyun, I missed you,” I weep on his chest. 

He pulls away to look at my face, cupping my cheeks. “How’s my girl?” his eyes twinkle. He lovingly leans in for a five-second kiss.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” I pout.

“No, I just got here,” he smiles. “Shall we?”

We both hop in his car and drive to Taemin’s house to have dinner with the boys. It was supposed to be a celebration for their comeback promotion weeks ago but it always fell through. Now that their promotion ended, they decided to have the gathering tonight. It was Minho and Kibum’s idea. Taemin offered his place to hold it. 

They love a good party. Kibum wanted to invite as many people as they could but Minho wanted an intimate gathering with just close friends. The decision was made democratically but it was tied up. So all that long heated, turbulent discussion led us to the lowkey one with just close friends.

Jonghyun and I arrive with three handsome boys already in sight. Minho greets me with a warm hug and then leads me toward the kitchen where Jinki and Kibum are preparing food.

“Mmm, smells good over here. Where’s Taemin?” I ask no one in particular while I make my way to sit on a spinning stool by the island.

“He’s not here yet,” Kibum answers me while he holds a wooden spoon in front of me to let me taste his soondubu stew. 

“What? He’s late even at his own party being held at his house. Great.” I say as I nod approvingly to Kibum, telling him that it’s delicious.

Jinki giggles. “That’s our youngest.”

I laugh, wiping off droplets of soup on my chin.

“Speak of the devil,” Kibum mutters as soon as I hear the front door beep. 

I welcome Taemin with a giggle and my arms open for a hug. “Hey, what are you doing late at your own party?” I say, pulling away from his one-hand embrace.

“I came as fast as I could. You’re at my house. Stop complaining!” he laughs too.

. . .

It is now four hours later. Jonghyun and I are back in his car on our way to his apartment. I insisted he takes me home but he insisted harder for me to stay at his place since it’s closer.

“Plus, I missed you and I want to be with you a little longer,” he says, kissing my hand while his eyes are on the road. 

“Really? Well...” I say, having something in mind. I start drawing closer to him and slide my palm on his lap up to his crotch. I lean in closer, humming into his ear.

He swallows. “Hey, I’m driving.”

I laugh at him. “Fine, I’ll wait until we get home.”

“Home?” He looks at me for a second, smiling. Then back on the road.

I pause, thinking of what I said. “What?” 

“Did you just propose for us to live together?”

“Where’d that come from? You’re making stuff up again.” I playfully punch his arm.

He laughs out loud. It is so beautiful that it is the most musical sound I’ve ever heard.

After a few seconds of silence, he grabs my hand. I turn to him, waiting for him to say something. “So, do you want to move in?”

My mouth opens in quite a confusion but immediately curves into a huge smile. “Yeah, of course! I’d love that,” I screech. I lean into him for a kiss on his cheek, then rest my head on his shoulder while he pulls over into parking.

He turns to me, cupping my cheek. “I love you so much, Y/n.” 

It makes me melt every time he says those words to me. My eyes fill in with tears. “I love you, too.”

---

TWO YEARS EARLIER

An overflowing burning sensation boils in my stomach, making me abruptly sit up and throw up on myself. I feel like my internal organs are about to come out of my mouth. I feel so heavy that I can't open my eyes. When I do, it’s brief and cloudy.

I suddenly hear the door open. Somebody walks into my room. A nurse perhaps. After I feel them carefully laid me back down, I catch a blurry figure of a man standing in my direction by the door outside my room. Before I can control my own consciousness, everything goes black again.

. . .

I slowly open my eyes with the sun blaring at me. It irritates the shit out of me. I get out of bed in an attempt to close my blinds but somebody stops me.

“Whoa, wait, be careful.” A guy in a hospital gown like mine suddenly appears before me. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I glare at him.

He looks startled by my sudden rage. Despite this, he adjusts the wire connecting the needle inserted in my arm and the IV that’s hung next to my bed before I could mess it up. 

“Let me get that for you,” he mutters before closing the blinds for me, leaving a bit of sunlight.

My face relaxes from frowning as I watch him walk back toward me. He sits on the chair next to my bed. I notice his attractive appearance. Dark hair that covers his entire forehead, a cute smile and a muscular body. I somehow get lost in his stare with those innocent and sparkly eyes, making the anger inside me fade. I feel some kind of warm relief. 

“Uh, I’m Jonghyun. Sorry to disturb you. I just wanted to see how you’re doing. I have not heard about you since I found you on the roof a few days ago.”

I snap out, bringing back my scowl. “Why?”

He stutters. “Well-”

“We don’t even know each other.”

“No, but-”

“Do you like me? Is that why you saved me?” I’m getting more pissed with this stranger in my room. “Or are you just trying to be some kind of a hero that saves my life, then our story would turn into a cheesy romantic cliché?

Silence. He just stares at me. Probably awkward and shocked.

“Get out of here before I call security.”

Without saying anything else, he gets up from his seat and walks to the door. Looking flustered, he glances back at me before sliding it close behind him. 

. . .

The moon has come out. It’s the only time of day that I appreciate the outside. I stand before the window, looking out, watching the cars and cabs go about down there. Thinking that there are millions of people existing, I question why the fuck I’m alone. 

Literally. 

Emotionally. 

I fall on my butt, and for the first time in almost a year, I cry out loud. Extremely loud. Numbingly loud. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I pull my hair out, punch my head, slap my own face. Dig my nails into my neck, scratch down to my chest, and then my arms. I kick my legs hysterically. Repeatedly.

I hate being alive. 

Eventually, my hearing went faint, abandoning its purpose. I feel someone grab me from behind, restraining me tightly. 

“Let me go! Just please let me go. Please! I don’t want to be alive anymore.” I continue to scream furiously, trying to escape everything that tries to come at me.

But then, I see that it’s Minho who’s hugging me. I crash into his arms, shut the fuck up, and cry silently. 

“Y/n, I’m here. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I’m here for you. Please, stop now,” he hushes me. I can finally hear his voice. He's the only one I can trust. His embrace is the only comforting thing to me.

I’m breathing heavily, trying to calm down. I watch a nurse approach with a syringe but Minho immediately shoves it away. 

We just stayed like this. I have not idea how long but I don’t want it to end.

After some time, the noises in my head settle down. I can see clearly again. 

---

PRESENT DAY

JONGHYUN

After my radio show, I come home to a beautiful lady waiting for me on the couch in the dressing gown I got her for Christmas last year, and a pair of thick-framed reading glasses with a book in hand. 

I join her, laying my head between her breasts. “Hi, roomie.” I look up at her, then give her a wink. We talked about moving in together weeks ago and the day I’d been waiting for has finally come. She’s finally settled in with me. There couldn’t be any other day happier than this.

She hisses. “Shut up,” then goes back to reading her book, blocking my view of her pretty little face. 

I hiss back. I then crawl out off the couch to pick her up bridal style, spinning her around.

Y/n shrieks, laughing. “Jonghyun, stop!” 

So I do. “Oh, hey, we haven’t done that thing couples do once they move in.”

“I thought you were going to be too tired from work,” she says, her arms around my neck.

Her thinking about sex is heaven to me! But that’s not what I’m talking about. “No, stupid,” I chuckle at her while I put her down on her feet. “Come here.” I grab her hand for her to follow me out the front door. 

“Wait, what? Where are we going? I’m not dressed,” she complains.

I close the door once we get out. Y/n is still confused about what we’re doing. I pick her up again, bridal style. “Now, enter the code.”

She doesn’t say anything else and does as I say.

Once she opens the door, “Welcome home!” I cheer.

She laughs out loud. “Oh, so now we’re officially living together. Amazing!” she says playfully.

But I don’t put her down just yet and head to the bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re doing that other thing that couples do when they move in together.” 

“Yay!” she cheers, then kisses me deeply on the spot as I bring the action to our bedroom. 

---

TWO YEARS EARLIER

There’s a knock on the door while I watch a movie on the flatscreen. I hit pause on the remote control.

“Hyung!” Minho calls out enthusiastically as he enters my room with bags of food in his hand.

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

“What? Can’t a guy visit his guy friend who is unlucky enough to get into an accident?” he jokes around, handing me my lunch.

“Thank you very much,” I bow to him. 

Minho and I do some catching up, talking about his new drama series, and some other work stuff until our conversation finds itself about the girl staying next door.

“Then she just kicked me out of her room and threatened to call security on me. This is what she did to a person who saved her life?” I pout.

“Oh, my God. You’re the stalker she’s been talking about?”

“Stalker? Woah, that woman. After what I did for her?” My blood is boiling with intense irritation. But it subsides quickly once I realize something. “Wait, you know her?”

“Yeah, I actually spent the night in her room.”

I pause, staring at Minho in confusion. “You’re not… Nothing’s going on with you two, is there?

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. I’ve known her since childhood. Our parents used to be close. That was when her mother was still alive and her dad hadn’t moved to Japan.”

“Wow, she has it tough, huh?” Just like that, irritation turns compassion. 

“Yeah, but there’s more to that. Something that no one can explain, not even her herself.”

She’s been suicidal. Her depression has taken a lot from her. Hearing this makes me want to look after her more.

---

PRESENT DAY

Y/N

Since then, Jonghyun had been visiting me every evening to have dinner together even when I kept pushing him away, asking him to stop trying to save me.

Days after he got discharged, he came back, but I wasn’t in my room anymore. When he found out that I was transferred to the psychiatric ward, he came running to my door.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were being transferred?”

“Why would I?” I frowned.

“Right,” he laughed awkwardly. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket. 

“Hey, what are you-” 

He trailed off, his face turning red as he listened. It’s definitely Minho.

I suddenly snatched the phone from Jonghyun’s hand and walk near the door out of earshot. “Hey, where the hell are you?” I scolded Minho in a whisper. “You are not letting him-”

“It’s okay, Y/n. He means well. Maybe it’s time for you to let somebody else in for a change,” he laughed statically. “Love you.” 

I sighed in irritation as I heard the dial tone. “Here.” I hand Jonghyun’s phone back to him while he just smiled at me goofily.

If it wasn’t for Minho, I never would’ve trusted anyone again. And because of Jonghyun, trusting and loving again was worth it. 

By the time I got discharged from the ward, Jonghyun and I eventually started dating officially. He was always there for me. Offered to come with me to my therapist twice a week but I insisted that I could go by myself. I would meet the rest of the boys not long after we got together. Since then, I’ve got the best friends ever.

Sooner or later, I would get back to work in teaching kindergarten. I can’t imagine my career going any other way. I thank myself for being alive today. Some days, I’d join Jonghyun and the boys in organizing a charity mission. I’d teach kids in far provinces. I forgot how fulfilling working with children was when I was too busy being miserable.

I’ve never felt so alive. Not to mention grateful. 

“I’m so proud of you, honey,” my dad tells me with a big smile on his face.

“Thanks, Dad,” I smile back at my computer screen. “By the way, when are you coming? You should tell me ahead of time so I can prepare you something.”

Before I can hear his response, the front door of my apartment beeped. “Oh, I have to go. Jonghyun’s here.”

“I should really meet this Jonghyun. You’re talking about him a lot,” he says.

I shake my head and laugh at him before hanging up.

“Was that your dad?” Jonghyun asks as soon as he approaches and kisses me on the lips.

“Yeah.”

“Is he coming to visit?”

“He didn’t say,” I tell him, shutting down my laptop.

I stare at Jonghyun while he removes his shoes and walks towards me.

“What?” he asks, then kisses me on the forehead.

Trying not to tear up, I just shake my head and giggle at him. If it wasn’t for Jonghyun, my life would be so much different right now. Hell, I’d be dead. Because of him, I regained my bond with my dad. 

Months ago, they had to go to Japan for work and he made me come with them so my father and I could finally talk. We had never seen eye to eye ever since Mom died. We had drifted apart. Now, we are closer than ever.

I’m not saying my depression is gone and my attacks are non-existent anymore. They still come every now and then, although not as bad as before. Jonghyun has always been so caring and understanding. I could cry just thinking about it. I got to be with the best person and have the best friends in the world. 

[allthecastlesonclouds]

10, 17 & 32 for writer questions?

oooo thanks for the ask!! link to ask game

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

When I was. like. 8. i wrote this original story about five girls and a boy. it was, in short, very bad: none of the character traits were consistent, the plot moved along terribly, and scenes were messy. every chapter was in a different font and Oh Dear God was it unreadable.

and i fucking loved it. i was so proud of it. i still kind of am? 35 pages for an eight year old isn’t bad. but there are printed copies i still find around my house, and my mom still talks about it to this day, and every time i read it i wince.

i’m not sure if this is the definition of haunted, but it follows me around to this day. you maybe thought this was gonna be a fanfic, but this story. Oh God.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

Gotta talk about fight or flight baybee!! okay so when i started this it was basically because i had many thoughts on the fact it was kristen’s siblings who convinced her to go during family in flames and not. her parents. and also the fact her parents names combined were McDonalds. that cracked me up. also actually i was talking to a lovely irl about this and they said “wait a character is Christian Applebees??” and i went ally beardsley how dare you. the google doc is titled ‘the mfing MacDonna Applebees’

i brainstormed a rudimentary layout for Mordred for this fic, as in i thought about the first floor and went ‘everything else doesn’t matter’. the chapel is canonically disconnected from the house but kristen also canonically has a secret passageway to tracker’s room, so i decided all the secret passageways link up and let people just. into the walls. kristen and riz are the only ones who have any semblance of confidence in there bc they sneak around so much. kristen uses the passageways mostly for tracker’s and bee’s rooms, but she knows how to get to the kitchen and about midway up the tower staircase.

bee is trans. i debated for a while whether her name was spelled Bee or Bea, but i decided on Bee bc i know a Bea and the vibes are. Different. kristen’s nickname for bricker is bricks, and bee calls him rick or ricks, and when they’re a bit older on their Fantasy Discord she Nicknames him Dick and kris doesn’t let Bricker change it back. bricker is bi; he kissed one of the luckstones under the bleachers and that’s what McDonalds was angry about. he’s also religious (bee goes i know the gods are real but i think i’m taking a step back please); he probably becomes a cleric of helio and does something similar to tracker in the sense he worships his own version of helio, not the widely accepted version.

they’re all two years apart: if kristen’s going into jr year, bee’s going into freshman, bricker’s going into seventh, and cork’s going into fifth. this means cork was seven or eight when kristen left, and you know, third graders are Little and have the object permanence of baboons, so. he’s fine. he’s not really in this fic sorry. when i listen to songs, i like to imagine animatics, and so fics are based around them often, and this one is no acception; the first line of the song is ‘i think it might rain today’ and a separate 3+1 line i was debating was ‘3 times kristen found her siblings in a storm and the one time she had them’.

also kristen needs therapy. she Will Not Get It.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

really any line from ‘For Everyone’ by Jason Reynolds. it’s such a good book. my boss at a camp i worked at gave it to me a couple years ago, and i cried reading it. if i had to pick a section: (id in alt text) (it hits different when formatted like it’s read aloud)

[lavendertune]

Part 2! 19. I don’t think I ever really “started”, I’ve always been writing. For as long as I can remember I came up with stories, even in elementary school I already wrote short stories and poems. It accompanied me throughout my teens, morphing from fairy-tales to poems, song texts and short stories until I finally arrived at novels. At some point I switched to writing in English which also allowed me to deepen my knowledge and skill of the language. I went through a lot of bad times and a very hard depression which hindered my writing but luckily bounced back, even though I regularly get writing blockades. I guess it is because ever since I was a kid I lived in my own little imaginary world, thinking of wonders and universes that don’t exist and put them to paper. I love creating worlds and historic timelines, thinking of “what-ifs” and fleshing out characters. It is my way to escape reality an unwind and if I could I’d do little else. At the moment I am hoping to finish a side-project which developed a mind of its own to return to my original plan : Writing my four-part modern fantasy novels and publish them. I don’t expect to become a world-renowned author but I’ve seen the holes the modern fantasy genre has and wish to fill those, giving the people something new and exciting to read which is both, fantastic and realistic.

20. Oh please, what kind of question is that? Of course I’d take the WIP ! Okay, I may be cheating a little because as a polyamorous person I don’t believe in the one true love BUT – Love comes in many forms and goes as it pleases. Finishing my writing is a damn lot of work and there are so many factors who could ruin my progress or perhaps even hinder me from ever finishing it. So yes, fuck love, let me finish my damn book!

21. Definitely not. Like I said earlier, writing is my way to escape. It allows me to unwind and express myself. I let my own experiences influence my writing a lot and I do process my real-world problems in the same way. I couldn’t live without writing.

22. You should have heard the ugly laugh I just let out- No, there’s no organization. I may be very organized in my day-to-day life but hells, my writing is a mess. I do like to write rough overviews of my characters or the vague storyline with major plotpoints, but the rest is up to the gods. I just sit down and write. I don’t plan my chapters beforehand. It’s strange but it feels wrong? I don’t really know how to describe it but it feels like my characters have a mind of their own and I’m simply a tool to tell their story. They choose their own way to a point where I myself am sometimes surprised at how a story I had in my head suddenly took a turn I hadn’t planned.

23. As said in question 3 I typically write in my little oriel in my living room. A big round rattan chair in cream-colours is sitting in its right corner, in the window above it a hand-woven ring with a pentagram wrapped above it with a pink ribbon. The windowsills are lined with old books about herbology, paganism and craftmanship, between them old animal bones and little animals made of wood. In front of the chair stands a little antique desk made of red wood, on it some more bones, a wooden bowl filled with dried flowers, a hunting knife with an antler handle and a little lantern. Big candles are standing wherever there is space, softly flickering and filling the oriel with a warm and comforting light.

24. Even though my story planning is lacking I tend to do a massive amount of research for my stories. For example, the novels I have planned are set in the real world and the story will take my main character across the world, so naturally I had to do a lot of research about the countries, their culture, beliefs, history, etc. All my “magical” societies are based on real myths and stories from all over the globe. I am currently writing an entire book *just* for the mythical creatures that will appear in the novels and fleshed out a whole new system of magical abilities just for my story. I think that more or less paints a picture of how much I love research.

25. Ma’lo, my hero, chews on the inside of his cheek when he’s nervous or embarrassed. The reader knows that because I tend to describe every little detail, but it doesn’t change a bit of the story. It’s just a habit he has picked up along the way.

26. I believe myself to be a really empathic person so I have little trouble getting into my characters. Being open-minded and willing to see the world from different perspectives I am able to feel with my characters, even my villains. At the same time I am able to separate their mindset from my own so I never suffer after-effects or the likes of it after thinking myself into the position of a certain character.

27. Oh, that must have been Mammon. It was a demon in one of my earliest stories who got stuck in the body of my main character and tended to randomly take control of her. Mammon was a being of absolute chaos and wrecked every situation which made them both, terribly complicated but hilarious to write.

28. I haven’t written much of her yet but that is Daline. She is an elven princess and daughter of King Lothair who reigns over the kingdom of Kordtwall in the Black Forest. Daline is an absolute sweetheart and a truly gentle soul. She meets everybody with an open heart and never looks away from suffering, facing it head on and standing up for others in need.

29. I draw my inspiration from the world around me. The changing of the seasons, the stormy winds rattling the trees, the sunsets above the houses and the wide fields of nature. Should my inspiration run out I go for walks, typically towards a body of water. Music and watching a movie/series also helps.

30. I typically don’t dream in my sleep. Either that or I don’t remember. There have been instances where I remembered but those were these vivid dreams you have when you take another nap after waking up and they’re usually quite strange. So no, I don’t use that material.

31. "My dearest, know the joy you bring with every word ushered my way. Know, that it is you who shy away the clouds and the shadows holding my hands captive. Know, that it is you who give me the flame to thaw my frozen fingers, who inspires me and drives me forward. It is your joy and your excitement that ignites my soul. I thank you, from the bottom of my heart. For it is you, who I hold dear."

32. Sweet hells, why would you ask me a question like this? I have no clue man, I can’t even remember what I ate yesterday.

33. If I find the time, yes! I’m very sporadic with my hobbies, but they include : Drawing, painting, crafting, cosplay, playing guitar, video editing and making candles!

34. No.

35. “There is no whispered, mumbled or laughed. Just write ‘said’ , anything else confuses the reader.” No, fuck you. “He said” and “says…” is the blandest, barren and dullest way to write a conversation. It is SO important to describe how a character speaks, which word they emphasize and where they voice cracks or gets stronger. It gives the characters life and allows the reader to understand the character’s emotional state.

36. Nothing. There is so much to learn, so much to see, so much to hear. The knowledge of this world is so vast an eternity wouldn’t suffice to soak it all up. What I know is naught compared to the endlessness of the universe and the secrets it holds.

37. That I was a crazed monsterfucker and I’d proudly stand by that accusation.

38. I typically drink mead when I write. It allows me to concentrate and somehow betters my writing flow.

39. Spite. Joking, aha. It’s the will to reach the end. When I start writing I always have the ending in my head already. I’m literally looking forward to it with every word that I write, pushing towards the end with all my might. It’s the need to see this through together with my characters to finish their story.

40. “From time to time  The clouds give rest  To the moon-beholders.”

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

[thewertsearch]

Asks Compilation 13/05

They really are. A lot of these kids seem very isolated (I mean, we know Jade is), and it makes a lot of sense why they’d gravitate to online friendships the way they did. Plus, they subconsciously know they’re going to be co-players, so maybe they were always destined to vibe well together. 

I’ll think about it! Honestly, though, I don’t know if it’d add much. I might try and experiment with different formats down the line, especially for ‘event’ flashes like that - we’ll see. 

[ Super popular (half-serious) fan headcanon  is that Prospit = you make your bed, Derse = you don’t make it. you got lots of asks about this but lots have spoilers so I thought I’d just tell you directly since I know you’d want to know 😂 - Cat ] 

What do ya know, I’m a Derse girl! 

Damnit, I wanted those prophecy clouds. Instead, I’m stuck with an asteroid belt, a sky full of monsters. and close proximity to a gang of murderous Agents. Derse’s perks better be good!!  

Lot of fun Charles Barkley Lore here. I can always count on you guys to explain Hussie’s latest reference to me. 

Now we know where Rose got this enigmatic quote. I like to think that in this world, T.S. Eliot never existed, and Barkley actually wrote all of Eliot’s poems himself, juggling Modernist poetry with his basketball career. 

Yeah, it’s just edging out Doom. It’s a weird pair of elements (aspects?) to be associated with, and I kind of love it.  

Combining the two just makes me think of this guy!

Thanks for the recs, guys! Other than Dumbing of Age, I haven’t heard of any of these, but based on their about pages:

Never Satisfied is a webcomic about politics, and also being a cool wizard. Strangely enough, I think those two would mesh pretty well. 

Sleelpess Domain is a dark magical girl webcomic with an urban-fantasy setting. I really like the artstyle for this one. 

Widdershins is an anthology fantasy series in a Victorian-inspired setting. Anthologies are a lot of fun - I find they really help the worldbuilding unfold. 

Black Book is a card-based RPG, a type of game system that I used to shun, but one that I’ve really been getting into recently. 

Dumbing of Age, which I keep meaning to check out, is, I think, a slice-of-life story about college students. They’re just like me fr

You really have be on the ball with Homestuck. The recap was one of the most information-dense pages in the comic so far, and if I’d been reading casually, I probably would have skipped it!

I guess the character naming pages were Hussie’s author avatar all along. 

This gif kind of mirrors WV’s terminal introduction, and when you think about it, authors are kind of ‘super-Exiles’, sending ‘commands’ which can’t be disobeyed. 

Like, I get it. John has no memory of that timeline, and is already primed not to trust Dave, but it still hurts to see him so dismissive of Davesprite. I think the ‘real Dave’ fuckup was because part of him still isn’t buying it. 

I honestly think one of the Daves might end up snapping eventually, and then John will get his wakeup call. 

Yup, it matches the kids’ introduction order, as most other things do. 

These patterns show up everywhere, and when they do, it’s impossible to tell in advance whether they’re going to be subverted. Hussie caught me out this time!  

.....oh my god?

Sweet!

It’s a good Cal. It’d have been hard to fully capture Comic Cal’s aura in realspace, so changing his design a little was the right move here. 

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Texts from The Lost Tomb, part 2

Quick side note—I love the smell of jasmine and I was lighting a candle when I realized oh I have a terrible idea, must write it down:D

Zhang and Wu Chat, 9:12am

Zhang Qiling: There is something for you on the table.

Wu Xie: ?

Zhang Qiling: There is something for you on the table.

Wu Xie: No no I read it just fine

I’m just a little confused, Wang Meng usually leaves mail in the office. Oh well, maybe he’s taking more initiative. A terrifying thought. Thanks for letting me know!

Zhang Qiling: *speech bubbles appearing and disappearing*

Main Chat, 9:15am

Wu Xie: okay guys not to panic anyone after the creepy letter thing but

Wang Pangzi: WHAT

Zhang Qiling: For once, I agree with the capitalization. Are you alright?

Wu Xie: I think someone got into our house, they left me something

Wang Pangzi: !!!!!

Zhang Qiling: I’m coming down from the roof now, I will meet you in the kitchen and take you to the safe house. Don’t move.

Wang Pangzi: SHITSHITSHITSHIT HANG ON IM CALLING EVERYONE LIVING DEAD AND OTHERWISE TO GET ON THIS. WE ARE MOVING HOME BASE TO ZURICH AND CHANGING OUR NAMES IDGAF

Wu Xie: it’s odd though…they left a definite death threat before but now a bouquet of jasmine flowers? With a Pablo Neruda poem attached, which kind of seems like the opposite of threatening??

Wang Pangzi: WHAT.

Zhang Qiling: You are not in danger.

Wang Pangzi: OH MY GOD AHAHAHAHA BRB IM TEXTING HEI XIAZI

Wu Xie: I mean I agree, this doesn’t seem dangerous, but is something going on that you two know about and I don’t?

Wang Pangzi: PABLO NERUDA IM CRYING XIAO GE WHY IM PISSING MYSELF

Zhang Qiling: It’s all fine. Ignore Pangzi. I’ll come in anyway to get rid of the flowers. It must have been a mistake.

Wu Xie: Oh, that’s sad. Someone didn’t get their flowers:(

Wang Pangzi: ARE YOU FUC—

Wu Xie: Even so, do you think it would be okay to keep them?

Zhang Qiling: …do you like them?

Wu Xie: I mean I’ll still call the florist and let them know, but what are the chances one of my favorite floral scents and one of my favorite poets somehow get delivered here? It’s practically fate:)

Wang Pangzi: SURE SEEMS THAT WAY HUH MAYBE YOU SHOULD THINK A LITTLE HARDER ABOUT THIS WITH THAT GENIUS IDIOT BRAIN SO I CAN FINALLY GET A BREAK

Zhang Qiling: If you like the gift, you are meant to keep it.

Babysitters Club Chat, 9:30am

Wang Pangzi: YOU. FUCKING. CHICKEN. YOUR QILIN CARD HAS BEEN REVOKED.

Zhang Qiling: I don’t understand what you are talking about. I am turning off my phone and going back to the roof to keep watch. Please stop talking about this in the main chat.

Wang Pangzi: OHH NO NO NO YOU ARE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS, LITTLE BLACK RIDING HOOD.

YOU SENT HIM FLOWERS. WITH A POEM. PABLO. FUCKING. NERUDA. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BE SMOOTHER THAN THE GREAT PANGZI AND THEN RUN AWAY JUST BECAUSE OUR IDIOT IS BEING HIS IDIOT SELF. EXPLAIN.

Zhang Qiling: Fine. After I lost my memory, Wu Xie let me read his old journals to try to jog some memories, or at least give me recent context for my life. I saw the date of the entry where he wrote that he met me for the first time, outside his uncle’s house. I rescued him from a mugging, not that I remember it. Today is that date. Satisfied?

Wang Pangzi: IM TORN BETWEEN LAUGHING AND CRYING AND HOPPING UP ON THE ROOF TO HOLD YOU. XIAO GE, YOU ROMANTIC. AN ANNIVERSARY PRESENT????????

Zhang Qiling: Say nothing. It was a foolish desire I had, to show him how much—

It doesn’t matter.

And do not come up to the roof, you will fall.

Wang Pangzi: FOOLISH MY GORGEOUS ASS

IM DONE DUCKING AROUND WITH THIS

OH HONEY YOU GOT A BIG STORM COMING

Zhang Qiling: The forecast is indeed overcast, but I do not sense rain approaching?

Mere Mortals Chat, 9:53am

Wang Pangzi: HE IS TRYING TO DATE YOU.

Wu Xie: ?

Wang Pangzi: DO NOT CALL THE FLORIST. THEY WILL JUST TELL YOU ABOUT AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED TOOTHPICK WHO BOUGHT THEM FOR YOU.

Wu Xie: a toothpick?

Wang Pangzi: WHY MUST I DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE. IS THIS HOW WANG MENG FEELS ALL THE TIME

Wu Xie: I’m confused, Wang Meng bought me flowers?

Wang Pangzi: IT IS SUCH A GOOD THING YOU'RE PRETTY

Wang Pangzi: YOU MAY WANT TO SIT DOWN FOR THIS

Zhang and Wu Chat, 11:08am

Wu Xie: Xiao Ge…this is so sweet. You are…I’m tearing up over here in the kitchen.

Zhang Qiling: You are crying? What has happened? Are you hurt?

Wu Xie: please come to the kitchen so I can hug you. And tell you some things

Zhang Qiling: On my way. You need to tell me who made you cry.

Wu Xie: oh I will.

Main Chat, 7:00am

Wang Pangzi: A MAN SHOULDNT HAVE TO WALK IN ON PURE SMUT WHEN HE IS TRYING TO GET SOME COFFEE IN THE MORNING YA NASTIES

Wu Xie: okay holding hands at the breakfast table is not smut

Fuck off Pangzi

Zhang Qiling: I will happily reserve our affection for more private moments. That moment was not meant for you.

Wang Pangzi: AFTER ALL THE WORK I DID DONT YOU DUCKING DARE “RESERVE” ANYTHING

DUCKING

DUCK

*FUCK

Zhang Qiling: We will also reserve that for private moments.

Wang Pangzi: …

Wu Xie: Omg Xiao Ge!!! Stop! Or switch to private chat and don’t stop;)

Wang Pangzi: I MISS THE TOMBS.

[erisenyo]

hi for the love of god hello i read your nasa zukka fic last night before i went to sleep and when i read the poetry i was like damn this is sick i have to remember to look this up in the morning and i did (obviously bc it was burned into the folds of my brain and i could never forget it in a million years) and YOU WROTE IT??? IT WAS ORIGINAL???? and then i reread it so i could feel emotions at 6 am on a monday and ITS IN HAIKU??? THE VERSES HIT THE SYLLABLE COUNT??? anyway i’m in love with you and the banter was perfect and the poetry was heartbreaking and amazing and i cried! and you’re amazing so yea. idk how every fic of yours hits it on the nose every time but by all means keep going pls. and if you want to talk about your process for writing the poetry especially i am listening with open ears hearts and holes <33333333

Oh my god hello you have no idea how many times I've read this ask, I am just BEYOND thrilled that you loved the poetry so much (and noticed it was haikuuuu I'm screaming)!! Like truly so deeply ecstatic, I adore the idea of poet-Sokka but I don't think poetry is necessarily my strong suit, so this has made my whole week I can't even tell you

I'm doing a little dance that this fic and the poetry could give you emotions at 6am on a Monday (truly the worst of times) and that you enjoyed the banter so much. And that you cried because of my haikus, I'M going to cry now!!

Thank you so so much, this is so sweet and lovely and I'm so over the moon from this and the fact that you think all my fics are such bangers and I'm also cracking up that you are listening with open ears and hearts and holes, how could I hold back my process knowing that.

Though process-wise it might be a bit thin, it's very vibes based. I've also done some poetry for Sokka in Of Tea and Turtle Ducks (and the Turtle Duck Guy) and To Open Every Door To Night, To Meet Each Rising Sun, and it's always haikus (math+art=Sokka's sweet spot) and always coming from this place of deep emotion or really feeling the moment he's in.

I tend to focus on one or two core phrases or pieces of imagery for the poem. So for Sokka at NASA being overwhelmed by seeing a rocket launch, I wanted a sense of the launch itself (fire, explosive force, fragile bodies, deadly flame) and the reverence (wonder, care) that Sokka brings to space as this vast frontier. It's something scientific but also something worthy of near-spiritual awe (dreaming, hoping to see), and something that is tangled with a lot of longing for him (carrying hope, far-flung dreams).

Once I have those core phrases or images, it's a lot of counting and shuffling around the order of things and trying out different combinations until the syllables finally work (and me telling myself that Sokka is an amateur poet so it's okay for me to be one too haha). I usually put in placeholders for the poems when I write, because actually figuring out a haiku and getting it where I want it within the scene can take 30ish minutes (depending on how anchored I get to specific imagery being in it) so I like to give it it's own headspace.

I liked all the imagery I was coming up with in the NASA fic, which is why we ended up with three haikus haha

With fire and dreaming, we send these fragile bodies into endless night.

They carry our hope to see beyond the edge of our own gravity.

We shape deadly flame, with wonder and care, to reach for our far-flung dreams

[hearts-hunger]

suum ca’nara (rest and peace) || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Summary: You and Din take your baby on a picnic, and rest and peace come more easily with the sun on your face and your husband by your side. || Standalone fic in the Jate’kara (Lucky Stars) series

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Fluff | Word Count: 4.6k | Warnings: None!

A/N: So this is quite possibly the fluffiest, sweetest thing I’ve ever written. I’m proud of how it turned out, and I hope y’all like it! (Also, this gif is what I imagine Din looking like in this fic - *swoon*, am I right?) (Also also, if you’re interested, the poem I use in this isn’t mine - god, I wish - but it’s called “Do you still remember: falling stars” by Rainer Maria Rilke) ♡

“Ad’ika, I think mama is going to be madder than a razor cat once she sees the mess we’ve made of her kitchen.”

You smiled to yourself at the tone of your husband’s voice, amusement and exasperation coloring it in equal measure. You hadn’t seen the state of the kitchen yet; you were supposed to be sleeping in, but the sounds of laughter and happy baby coos had drawn you from the bunk to see what your husband and toddler were getting up to so early. You guessed they were making breakfast, if Din’s steady, one-sided dialogue was any indication.

“I can never remember how much honey to put in,” he said. “Your ba’buir used to make uj’alayi when I was little, and he never measured anything. Just threw it in the bowl.”

You pictured little Din in the kitchen with his father, hands sticky-sweet as he learned how to make the traditional Mandalorian cake. You imagined your little one was watching Din with the same reverent attention Din had watched his father with, and felt your heart swell with love for your little family.

“That’s probably good enough,” Din said. “Now we need the nuts.”

Your heard your baby give a questioning coo.

“Yeah, those,” Din said. “Hold on, the bag might be a little too - ”

Thunk. The unmistakable sound of Koja nuts rolling across the floor had you bringing your hand up to stifle a laugh. Poor Din.

“That’s ok, buddy,” he said, his voice sweet and patient as he spoke to your most likely distraught baby. Your little one loved to try and help Din whenever he could - whether Din was polishing his armor, tinkering with the Crest’s control panel, or clearing his weapons, your baby could be counted on to be there to “help”. Most of the time, his help consisted of a steady stream of chatter and attempts to do whatever Din was doing, and Din tried to find little ways for him to contribute. That your baby had been trying to help his dad make breakfast and had spilled the nuts everywhere was sure to be upsetting for him.

His little coo of apology was absolutely heartbreaking, and you knew Din would be gentle with him.

“You didn’t mean to,” Din said kindly. “It’s ok. Do you want to help me get these up so we can finish the cake?”

You backed up from the kitchen door while they cleaned up, wanting to stay hidden a little longer. Din loved being a dad, and it came to him so naturally; you cherished the moments you got to enjoy watching or listening to him interact with your son when it was just the two of them.

Your baby started babbling animatedly about something, and Din responded with “oh” and “hmm” at appropriate times, encouraging him to speak and letting him know he was listened to. They finished up the batter and put the cake on to cook, the nanowave oven crackling slightly as it heated up. It was an old model, like everything else on the Crest, and you’d become so accustomed to its finicky nature that it was more familiar than frustrating.

“Osi'kyr,” Din said, dismal. “Your mama needs a new nanowave, huh?”

Your baby chirped his agreement.

“Yeah, we’ll have to see about getting her one,” Din said. “Maybe Peli knows somebody we can ask. But for right now, we have to get this place cleaned up before mama sees.”

“Before mama sees what?”

You came out of your hiding place around the corner and were met with two guilty smiles, both Din and your baby looking like you’d caught them with their hands in the cookie jar. Your little one was sitting up on the counter, an uncracked Koja nut in hand, his ears perking up at the sight of you. Din was covered in flour - little baby-sized handprints covered his black shirt and trousers, and streaks of white appeared in his sleep-mussed curls. The kitchen was a mess, like he’d said, but it was worth it to see the two of them so happy.

“Hi, cyare,” Din said, his smile a little sheepish.

Your baby added his own coo of greeting, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Good morning to you too,” you said. You gave your son a kiss on the top of his head. “What are you and daddy making?”

He waved the Koja nut in his claws for you to see. 

“Uj’alayi,” Din clarified.

You smiled. “Cake for breakfast, huh?”

He grinned. “Yeah, well, it’s got fruit in it. It’s healthy.”

He leaned close and kissed you, sweet with the taste of honey and ginger from the batter he’d tested before it went in the oven. He held his flour-dusted hands to the side of you so as not to get you messy too.

“Good morning, Mrs. Djarin,” he said sweetly, bumping your noses together.

You beamed. “Good morning, Mr. Djarin.” You gave him another quick kiss. “Do you want some help getting the kitchen cleaned back up?”

He looked a little distressed as he pulled back. “No, I mean - you don’t have to help. You didn’t make the mess.”

You gave an affectionate shake of your head. “Din. I don’t mind.”

He softened. “Well, if you’re offering. It’s very sweet of you, cyare. Sorry it’s such a disaster.”

“It’s not that bad,” you said, waving him off. “Most of the flour ended up on you and not on the counters, anyway.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, we had a hard time getting it in the bowl.” He took a cloth and began wiping down the counters, scooping your baby up while he did.

“But we’re ramikadyc mandos,” he continued. “Determined, tenacious. Not to be bested by cake batter.”

Your baby chimed in to agree with his dad. You laughed as you filled the sink with hot water.

“How did I get the two bravest Mandalorians in the galaxy on my ship?” you teased.

Din considered that. “I think you’ve just got good jate’kara, my love.”

You gave a pleased hum as he kissed you. “My stars are pretty lucky, aren’t they?”

He smiled. “Not as lucky as mine, cyare.”

When the kitchen was back in order, Din excused himself to take a shower while the cake finished baking. You got your little one dressed for the day in a soft, hand-stitched blue tunic Omera had made for him and tidied the bunk before heading back to the kitchen as the timer went off.

“Quiet a view, cyar’ika.”

You blushed at the teasing warmth of your husband’s voice as you took the pan from the oven and straightened, setting it to cool out of your baby’s reach. You turned and saw Din had changed into a soft white shirt and brown pants, his suspenders resting against his hips, his hair dark and curly from his shower.

“I’ve got quite a view, too,” you said, a little bashful as he smiled and crossed to you. You only had a moment to admire the endearing crinkles by his eyes before he kissed you, all tenderness and affection.

Your little one cooed and you both looked down to see him standing on the top of Din’s boot, tugging on his pants leg and giving uppy arms. Din chuckled and scooped him up, cradling him with one arm and drawing you close with the other.

“Let’s go somewhere fun today,” he said. “This system has some beautiful planets. We can have a picnic or something.”

You smiled. “Okay,” you agreed. You were a little surprised, as Din wasn’t usually very spontaneous, but the idea of a day spent just spending time with him and your baby sounded lovely. “Where should we go?”

He kissed your forehead. “I’ll go look and see what we’re closest to.”

He took the baby up to the cockpit with him to scan the nearby planets, giving you a few minutes for your own shower. You took two slices of uj’alayi when you went to join them; you gave one to Din, and he broke off little pieces to share with the baby.

“I think we decided on a planet,” Din said, indicating the display on the instrument panel.

“Baraan-Fa,” you read. “It’s forested, low population... is it safe?”

He shrugged. “Should be, with the place we’re landing. Most of the population density is around the town and the old Rebel base, so we shouldn’t run into anybody.”

You took your seat, happily taking your baby when Din handed him over to you so he could set your course. You were amused to see that your little one had succeeded in charming Din into giving him the silver handle off the gear shift, and he held it up for you to see.

“Your daddy must love you,” you cooed to him.

Din glanced back at you, his expression bemused before he saw what you were talking about. His smile was a little exasperated.

“Maybe we should get him some actual toys.”

You laughed. “He wouldn’t play with them even if we did, honey. He wants to be like you.”

“Yeah.” Din’s expression was soft with affection, and you knew he didn’t really mind that his son had chosen a part of the ship for his plaything. He turned back to focus on bringing the Crest into Baraan-Fa’s atmosphere, and you and your baby looked out the windows in pleasantly surprised wonder at the beauty of the planet. Every inch of it was green, hilly grasslands with blue rivers snaking through the forests. Din expertly landed in a small clearing in the middle of a wooded area, settling the Crest into a glade dappled with sunlight.

No sooner had the ship landed than you were out of your seat and downstairs, impatiently waiting for the ramp to lower as the welcoming breeze flooded into the Crest’s hull. You set your baby down on the soft grass and let him explore a little, tilting your head back to feel the sun on your face, breathing deeply of the clean air.

“You like it?” Din asked. You opened your eyes to see him leaned against the door frame, watching you with a gentle smile. You would have beamed back at him and told him how much you loved it had it not been for the sudden concern you felt at his appearance.

“You’re not wearing your armor,” you said. Checking briefly to make sure the baby hadn’t wandered too far, you stepped up the ramp towards your husband and made to steer him back inside the Crest’s relative privacy.

“Din - ” you protested when he gave a soft laugh and captured your wrists in a gentle grip, just as you had put your hands on his chest to push him back inside. “What if someone sees?”

He held both of your hands close to his heart. “There’s nobody here, cyare. I checked. It’s sweet of you to worry, but you don’t have to.”

You gave him a doubtful look. “You’re going to be out here without a helmet?” That sounded awfully reckless to you.

“I want to be able to kiss you,” he said, giving you a chaste kiss to illustrate his point. “And I want to swim in the river and feel the sun on my face. Can’t do all that with beskar on, now can I?”

You sighed. “No, but...” You met his eyes. “It doesn’t frighten you?”

He softened. “Sure it does,” he admitted. “A little. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve been out of the Crest without armor on. But that’s exactly why I want to. And if there’s no danger of anyone seeing me... I think it’ll be alright.”

He tapped the bracelet on your wrist, a modified version of his vambrace with the same remote controls of the Crest programmed in. “Besides, I told the Crest to alert us if there’s anyone nearby. It’ll be alright.”

You reached up to brush your fingers through his hair. “Well, it would be nice to see your face,” you said. “If you’re sure about it.”

He smiled and kissed you again. “I’m sure, cyar’ika. Come on, let’s go get our son before he wanders right into the river.”

You looped your arm through his, feeling like one of the promenading couples you always saw growing up on Naboo. He was a bit scruffier and dressed more casually than any young man on Naboo would be, but you liked him that way. 

As he led you on a leisurely stroll towards the river, minding your little one closely, you took the opportunity to enjoy being outside with him and being able to see his every expression. Din was nothing if not expressive, especially in his brow, and his face was alight with a happiness and peace that made his handsome features all the more alluring.

“Is there a word in Mando’a for ‘very handsome’?” you asked.

He looked over at you with a touch of confusion, either playing coy or just being genuinely oblivious. You suspected the latter, and it was endearing to you.

“No,” he said. “But there’s ‘very beautiful’ - ori mesh’la - and it means the same thing.”

You smiled. “Well then, Din, I think you’re ori mesh’la.”

His cheeks pinked. “Well, thank you, cyare,” he said, endearingly bashful. He smiled. “I think you’re ori mesh’la, too.”

You could have watched his face forever, charmed by his blush and the way his curls looked in the sun, but your baby gave an excited babble and drew you attention. Just in time, too, as he was barrelling full-speed towards the river without a care in the world.

“Oh, ad’ika,” you chided, unwinding yourself from Din and scooping your baby up before he reached the water. His ears drooped as you held him.

 “I know you want to go in, my love,” you cooed. “But you have to be careful.”

You saw why he’d been so eager to get in the water - the riverbed was covered in bright, colorful stones, glinting where they caught the sun through the water. You knelt on the bank and held your baby in your lap, reaching into the pleasantly cool water to scoop up a handful of the stones.

“Look how pretty,” you said, drawing them close so he could take a few. He grabbed the biggest one and turned it over in his claws, mesmerized by the opalescent shimmer.

“Batu,” he said, holding it up for you to see. You smiled. You and Din hadn’t quite figured out what “batu” meant, but it seemed to signal his approval, and you were always pleased to hear it.

“I see,” you said, charmed by his enthusiasm. “Show daddy.”

You stood and turned to face Din, who was watching the two of you with a gentle smile on his face. His brow quirked in excitement when he saw his baby holding the stone out to him.

“Look at that, ad’ika,” he said, coming close to examine it.

“Batu,” your baby said again. Din grinned.

“Yeah, ‘batu’,” he repeated. “You want to go find some more?”

At your little one’s happy coo, you and Din kicked off your shoes to wade into the shallow river. Din rolled the hem of his trousers as well as yours, since your hands were full with the baby, and pressed a kiss to your thigh before he rose.

The water lapped just above your ankles with the gentle current, and you spent a few minutes looking through the clear water to find the stones you thought were prettiest. Your baby wriggled to be put down, but the water was a little too deep for him, and you settled on drawing up handfuls of rocks for him to sort through.

“Hey, cyare, look at this one.”

You turned to see the stone your husband had found and were met with a splash of water.

“Din!” you squeaked, a smile crossing your face. Your baby giggled with delight at having been splashed, and the sound mixed with Din’s warm laughter.

“Sorry, love,” he chuckled. “Couldn’t resist.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged. You bent down and splashed him back, getting him more thoroughly than he’d gotten you; he laughed and sputtered as he wiped his face on the shoulder of his shirt.

“That was so much worse than mine,” he said. “You’re awful.”

“Good thing you like me so much,” you said cooly.

He grinned. “Yeah, lucky you.” He kissed you and brushed the water from your face. You’d grown accustomed to the feel of his leather gloves, but you’d always prefer the gentleness of his hands, rough from years of hard work but always touching you in love. 

Pressed between the two of you and impatient to get in the water, your baby patted Din’s chest and babbled up at him.

“Come on, buddy,” Din said, taking him from your arms. “You want to swim a little bit?”

“You’re swimming in your clothes?” you asked.

He gave you a wry smile. “Why not? I’m already half-soaked.”

Your smile was slightly guilty. “I'm sorry about that, actually,” you said. “I didn’t mean to splash you so much.”

He chuckled. “I know. I’m not upset. Besides, it’s warm enough that it won’t take very long to dry off.” He nodded towards the bank where a flat rock jutted out over the water. “I was just going to sit over there and let him play where it’s shallow.”

“Oh,” you said. “Well, in that case, I’ll sit with you.”

You played with them for a long while, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Din while he held your baby’s hands and let him splash around in the shallow water. Despite his excitement, your baby was a little hesitant once he was actually in the water, and held tightly to Din’s fingers. As his fear eased and his confidence grew, he was happy to stay within his dad’s reach and only occasionally grabbed onto Din’s trouser leg when he lost his balance. His outfit was thoroughly soaked within minutes of his delighted splashing, but he didn’t seem to mind; he played happily and kept handing rocks to you, and you cooed over every one. 

You might have stayed with them and watched your little one play for hours on end if it hadn’t been for Din’s stomach starting to growl; you realized you were hungry too and playfully nudged your shoulder against his.

“Should I go get us some lunch?” you asked.

His smile was a little sheepish. “If you wouldn't mind,” he said. “I can get it, if you don’t want to.”

You ran a hand over his back. “I don’t mind,” you assured him. “What do you want to eat?”

“Whatever,” he said. “You know me.”

“So, just a whole ori'skraan, then?” you teased. Mandalorians always had big elaborate feasts at their celebrations to make up for the fact that they ate rations more often than not, since they were easier while on a hunt; you’d had the pleasure of attending a few during your marriage, including the one at your wedding.

Your husband grinned. “That’ll be just fine, cyare.”

You kissed his cheek before you stood, waving goodbye to your baby. You heard Din console your little one as you left towards the ship, explaining that you’d be right back.

You found the length of fabric you used for a baby sling and tied it around you like Din had shown you; Mandalorians carried their babies in a birikaad, to keep their hands free for fighting, and this was nearly identical to that style. You filled the sling with food from your pantry, wrapping up a few slices of the uj’alayi cake for dessert, and folded up one of the spare blankets to picnic on.

You heard Din singing as you walked back to the river. You almost didn’t realize it was him, at first - he was usually so shy about his singing voice, and he reserved it for lullabies when your baby was very fussy or drinking songs when he was deep in his cups with friends. He sang to you, occasionally, when you asked him to, and he was always endearingly bashful.

His voice carried over the clearing, mixing with the sound of the river and your baby’s happy laughter, and you drank it in the closer you got to him. It was a beautiful song, full of longing; Din’s warm baritone made it rich and lovely. The lyrics were in Mando’a, and you were too caught up in the sound of your husband’s voice to translate; you let his voice wash over you, warming you from head to toe.

You didn’t know how long he would have kept singing if your baby hadn’t caught sight of you, giving a happy coo of welcome. Din’s voice cut short as he turned, perhaps fearing you were someone else, but his expression softened into a smile as soon as he saw you.

“Hi,” he said.

You smiled. “Hi.” You rested a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t stop singing on my account.”

He blushed. “No, I’d been singing that one over and over. I’m sure ad’ika’s tired of hearing it.”

You knew that wasn’t true; your little one calmed faster to Din’s voice than he did to anything else. You didn’t want to embarrass him, though, and carded a hand through your husband’s sun-warmed curls.

“You two hungry?” you asked.

You baby gave an affirmative babble and gave his dad uppy arms; Din obliged him and dried him off a little as you spread out the picnic blanket. Your little one came and sat in your lap as Din helped you set out the food. 

“You missed your mama, didn’t you?” Din said sweetly. You brushed an affectionate hand over your baby’s ears and swapped the bright purple stone he held for a piece of fruit. He watched your hand carefully to make sure you hadn’t really taken his prize away for good; satisfied when you set it next to you on the blanket, he happily ate the bite-sized food you and Din took turns giving to him.

Din took your baby back to the river as you tidied up after lunch, and you were happy to watch and listen to them play as you stretched out on the blanket and read the book you’d taken from the shelf in the bunk. It was a collection of poems that Din had gotten you for your birthday, and even though you’d been excited to read it, you hadn’t had much spare time lately. You were quickly absorbed in the poetry as you read; the sun was warm on your back, and the sounds of your husband and baby playing created a comforting backdrop.

They came back from the river after a while, their hands full of brightly colored stones, their clothes half-soaked, and their expressions as tired as they were happy. Din set your baby down and let him toddle over to you; your little one added his stones to the collection you’d made, his ears perking up as he sorted through them.

“All done?” you asked, giving Din a gentle smile as he dropped his handful of stones into the pile. 

He hummed in agreement. “For now, anyways. He probably needs a rest.”

Your husband gave a soft groan as he lay beside you, tired and comfortable in the warm sun. “Your baby is a pretty good swimmer, mama.”

You closed your book and looked over at your little one; his smile was wide at his dad’s praise, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“I saw,” you said, tapping his nose and earning a giggle in response. “Did you like swimming with daddy?”

Your little one gave an affirmative coo as he abandoned the rocks and climbed up onto Din; with a great big yawn for such a little thing, he lay on Din’s chest and snuggled close when Din laid a hand over his back.

“Tired you out, didn’t it, ad’ika?” you said gently, brushing a finger over his ear. You looked to Din’s face and saw he was already dozing too.

You smiled. “Wore your daddy out too, I see.” His hair was light in the sun, almost golden in some places; his cheeks were rosy and sunkissed under his scruff, his expression peaceful and soft.

You kissed his cheek. “Did you know I love you?”

He gave a soft smile. “Yeah, I know. I love you too.” He turned his face towards you, your noses bumping together, his kisses tender and drowsy. You brushed your fingers through his hair.

“You’re gonna take a nap?” you asked, keeping your voice soft for your baby’s sake. He was already asleep, curled snugly under his dad’s hand, rocked by the gentle rise and fall of Din’s chest.

Din gave a content sigh. “Maybe. Lay here with me, cyare.”

You gave a soft laugh. “I’m not going anywhere, honey.” You kissed the bridge of his nose. “You want me to read to you?”

He nodded, moving his free hand to rest on the curve of your lower back. “What book is it?”

“The one you gave me for my birthday,” you said, flipping through the pages until you found where you’d left off. “Ancient Keltrian Poets, remember?”

He hummed in agreement. “You like it?”

“I love it,” you said sincerely. “Here - I was in the middle of this one, but I’ll start it from the beginning.”

You read to him for a while, pausing to underline or make notes when you found a line you really liked; his fingers drew circles on your lower back as he listened and made a few comments here and there.

“For stars, innumerable, leapt everywhere,” you read. “Almost every gaze upwards became welded to the swift hazard of their play, and our heart felt like a single thing beneath that vast disintegration of their brilliance.”

You traced your fingers over that stanza. “That’s kind of like our vows, don’t you think? ‘We are one when together, we are one when parted.’ Our heart feels like a single thing.”

When you didn’t get an answer, you looked over at your husband. “Din?”

He shifted a little, and you realized he’d fallen asleep. 

“Alright, cyare?” he mumbled.

“Sorry,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He ran his hand over your back. “That’s ok, love.” Even mostly asleep, he still comforted you with intentional gentleness. “What did you say?”

You smiled. “Nothing. Just that I love you.”

He tilted his chin up just a little, asking for a kiss; you obliged him, gently pressing your mouth to his.

“Keep reading,” he said. “I love the sound of your voice.”

You softened. “I love the sound of your voice, too.” You brushed a wayward curl from his forehead. “What was that song you were singing earlier?”

A flicker of a smile crossed his face. “Naasad'guur mhi,” he said. “It’s a drinking song.”

“It’s pretty,” you said.

He hummed in agreement.

“What’s it about?” you asked.

“It says, ‘nobody likes us, we don’t care, we are the elite Mando boys from Mandalore.’”

You laughed. “That’s really what it says?”

He smiled. “Yeah. It sounds really nice when you have a bunch of people singing it all together.”

You gently ran your knuckles over his scruff. “Will you sing it for me later?”

“Sure, cyare. If you want me to.”

You settled closer to him and flipped the page to the next poem, reading it aloud a bit more quietly than you would have usually. Din’s breathing evened out until he was snoring softly; you smiled when you saw the way your baby had a fistful of Din’s shirt held tightly in his hand. The sound of the river kept you company as you read about stars and rainstorms and fields of aura blossoms; Din’s warmth beside you was comforting and steady. Days of rest and peace were few and far between for your little family, but they were sweeter for it; you held tightly to them when they came, and always thanked the jate’kara for days like these.

series taglist: @kyjoraven​​​​​, @sarahjkl82-blog​​​​​, @remmysbounty​​​​​, @bitchin-beskar​​​​​, @cosmicbreathe​​​​​, @prettyboyskywalker​​​​​, @happyxdayxbitch​​​​​, @radiowallet​​​​​​, @marvelous-glims​​ ♡

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please send me an ask if you’d like to be added to either taglist! ♡

[whentherewerebicycles]

ugh we had a rough start to the morning… one of our new neighbors has a huge dog that really freaks ruthie out. it seems to be a really nice, placid dog but ruthie is super leash reactive, especially at close distances, and the woman who owns the big dog seems to be really interested in pushing all of my dog’s buttons at every possible opportunity lol. I know I’m projecting onto her but it is driving me nuts. she knows my (very small toy breed) dog is reactive yet whenever she sees us, instead of giving me a minute to get ruthie out of the way she’ll walk her dog very briskly directly at us in a way that unfailingly triggers all of ruthie’s panic meltdown instincts, and when I’ve finally managed to wrestle ruthie out of sight, she’ll IMMEDIATELY follow us at a close distance as if to make a point that she’s not going to alter HER walk plans at all to accommodate my feral demon child. and I’m meanwhile saying things like “oh my god I’m so sorry, she’s leash reactive, just give me a minute” as I try to haul ruthie to a safe enough distance that she can calm down, and the neighbor doesn’t say anything just gives me this judgy as hell look like she thinks I’m the worst dog parent she’s ever seen (and then of course she doesn’t give us a minute she just follows directly on our heels, further confirming ruthie’s panicked sense that THIS DOG IS HUNTING ME IT COULD EAT ME IN ONE BITE HELP HELP). anyway I usually try to actively take a diff route or scan the horizon for this woman so I can ~manage the environment~ and keep ruthie far enough from the stimulus to avoid triggering the meltdown reaction, but today the woman (who MUST have seen us passing based on the way our units are laid out, like there’s NO WAY this encounter was a surprise to her) came abruptly around a corner so ruthie was literally face to face with her big dog with zero warning. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa okay it’s fine it’s stressful for me but I know most people just don’t get it… like before I got ruthie I thought pip’s easygoing nature with other dogs was like, the Default Dog Setting, and now I understand that no it’s just because I took him a ton of public places when he was a puppy and he met lots of dogs of all sizes. whereas ruthie was clearly a pandemic puppy who spent most of her time at home and had few Public Experiences.

anyway sigh we continue to work on it. but man okay the last 15 or so hours have been kinda rough lol… my favorite player (who has a history of Very Very Bad Life-Altering Concussions) got deliberately elbowed in the head to take him out of the game last night & prob has a concussion… many sports fans are garbage humans who are outright gleeful about seeing a person already at high risk of CTE receive another brain injury… the league almost certainly won’t do anything about it to the player who elbowed him in the head which fucking sucks… and THEN unrelatedly I keep having this series of extraordinarily realistic nightmares about aliens who take over or invade the bodies of human women and then destroy the woman by shucking her consciousness from her body and consuming it, leaving her an empty husk body (clearly my subconscious is hard at work processing The World)… also I read this poem about war crimes against women in the atlantic yesterday and it has fucking haunted me since I can’t stop thinking about it/about war crimes in general/about the vulnerability of women’s bodies… also I think that getting upset about sports last night unlocked the inner compartment where I have been aggressively repressing all of my roe v wade + Ukraine mass rape grief and rage and now I’m just swimming in that toxic sludge… also I’m just tired from bad sleep and not in a great headspace today friends.

sigh. okay. I’m going to drink coffee and lounge in bed till 9:30, then I’ll get up and shower and get ready for these student meetings. here’s the day:

9:30-10:30 shower, breakfast, emails

10:30-11 SO mtg

11-1:30 write scenes (my goal is three today but also I’m going to be gentle with myself today I’m feeling destabilized by the world)

1:30-2 AZ mtg

2-2:30 see if ML will switch to this time

2:30-3 ML mtg

3-5 write some more

evening: walk the dogs for an hour, do a bit more writing, or just do whatever. try not to doomscroll it won’t make you feel better

[letterful]

professional vibe diagnosis: madi @dearorpheus 🖤

KEY TERMS: gothic heroines, final girls, bluebeard narratives, death & the maiden, monster theory, dangerous appetites, antiquarianism, sawbones & their history, perfumery, poison bottles, cursed jewels, blood vials, soft & warm light, morbidness & coziness intertwined, with more than a dash of elegance & sophisticated taste 🖤

media recommendations under the cut!

(a sidenote: i did not include a lot of obvious choices, such as angela carter or helene cixous or anne carson or any gothic 101 authors, since i know for a fact you’re already familiar with them. to be perfectly honest, you’re one of the most well-read people i’ve ever met, so i wouldn’t be surprised if you were already familiar with most of these, but i did my best!)

Severance: Stories, Robert Olen Butler—talking heads! literally!

Fairy Tales for the Disillusioned: Enchanted Stories from the French Decadent Tradition,

The Leopard by Giuseppe Tomasi Di Lampedusa (for some truly exquisite prose),

Imaginary Lives by Marcel Schwob (oh, Schwob is criminally underrated; also,  these tales remind me of early Borges)

Kieślowski films! La Double Vie de Véronique (1991), especially—this scene is... somewhat spoiler-y, but goodness. it is beautiful, in a grandiose way. also, can we talk about the lyrics of the featured piece? 

speaking of Polish movies: Cold War (2018) & Ida (2013) are also a must!

Arthur Machen’s short stories, and especially The Inmost Light,

M. R. James’ short stories, of course, but especially Count Magnus,

The Lottery and Other Stories by Shirley Jackson; the entire collection serves as one of my favourite retellings of the Daemon Lover ballad, although it’s not a very straightforward one—The Man in the Blue Suit (slash James Harris) is at most a peripheral figure, and his status as a supernatural entity is up in the air, since most of the stories are uncanny instead of explicitly supernatural (and yet, whenever he enters the stage, something shifts in the atmosphere & things go... very wrong, very quickly). I especially recommend The Tooth!

speaking of daemon lovers, here’s an academic analysis of this motif: Demon-Lovers and Their Victims in British Fiction (an extended excerpt is available on Google Books)

still speaking of daemon lovers: The Book of Tobit! and, specifically, the story of Asmodeus and Sarah of Media, who might or might have not inspired the line about the woman wailing for her demon-lover in Coleridge’s Kubla Khan. also! this... retelling of sorts: (x)

The Song of the Sun: Collected Writings by Leah Bodine Drake (her poems of fantasy are quite wonderful; here’s an example!),

speaking of fantasy-themed poems... these anthologies are very good indeed (& beautifully published!): Monster Verse / Dead & Undead / Killer Verse / Bewitched & Haunted,

Het Lied van Heer Halewijn (a proto-Bluebeard story, and the Dutch equivalent of Lady Isabel and the Elf Knight)

speaking of... these are some of my favourite transformative works dealing with this ballad: (x) (x) (x) (once again, it’s fanfiction, but it’s quality fanfiction, cross my heart & hope to die)

german-language musicals! goodness, they’re some full-throated, pulpy, gothic extravaganza. here’s my favourite scene from Tanz der Vampire, and here’s the english lyrics, and here’s the english-language demo (it is... not as good as the original, alas). i also recommend Elisabeth & Rebecca! speaking of pulpy musicals: can we talk about the riddle from the scarlet pimpernel? because it has no business being this catchy. 

alright, i’ve covered some lowbrow musicals, so let’s talk highbrow now: The Great Comet is based on a tiny excerpt from War & Peace, but good god. it /feels/ monumental in scope. this song is... yeah. yeah. it’s also sung-through (like Les Mis, or Evita), so you’re not missing out on anything, even if you only listen to the cast recording!

speaking of songs with great Madi energy... Take This Waltz by Leonard Cohen (based on a poem by Lorca!) definitely reminds me of you!

also. Memorial by Susanne Sundfør. it’s the drama! and Kate Bush, obviously, especially Hammer Horror (even more obviously) <3 and this rendition of Memory! 

i don’t know whether you own ps4, or even consider yourself someone keen on video games as a medium, but madi. madi. madi. bloodborne is practically tailor-made for you, and i’m not even exaggerating. dubious medicine! secret cults! victorian architecture! blood, blood everywhere! eldritch abominations beyond human comprehension! i’m going to fly you to poland just so you can play it. 

on a related note... netflix’s castlevania is. well, i genuinely cannot say whether it’s good, but it’s fun, and its aesthetic is basically gothic on steroids. very explicit, that is to say: sex and murder usually take place simultaneously.

some academic books of interest that were not already included in my previous masterpost:

The Ring of Truth: And Other Myths of Sex and Jewelry,

the Devil’s Advocates series,

The Work of the Dead: A Cultural History of Mortal Remains,

Dark Banquet: Blood and the Curious Lives of Blood-Feeding Creatures,

Rabid: A Cultural History of the World's Most Diabolical Virus,

Severed: A History of Heads Lost and Heads Found,

The Science of Monsters + Science of the Magical.

[toorumochi]

Hello~ I created some KaruShuu Headcanons for you guys~ hope you enjoy ❤️🧡 (Questions ain’t mine, I just answered them) Also some of them are based off fanfics I have written/read.

Who rocks the Ferris Wheel seat and who flips out and begs them to stop?

KARMA IS A BITCH AND IS ROCKING THE FERRIS WHEEL SEAT WHILE SHUU IS HOLDING ONTO THE POLE FOR DEAR LIFE

Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place and at any time?

Hm. Both. Lmao

Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time?

Karma is the sexy time, always time and Shuu is the relaxing time one BUT. That doesn’t mean he isn’t playing along with Karma

Who likes to walk around the house naked and who tells the other to go put some clothes on?

Karma. Karma walks around at least half naked maybe some boxers - and it’s not like shuu doesn’t enjoy watching his manly man walking around the house beefy af and flexing his muscles without even trying but he still tells karma to put some clothes on

Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight?

I DONT CAREEE HOW SOFT THE ARGUMENT WAS. KARMA SLEEPS ON THE COUCH.

Who takes photos of the other while they sleep?

BOTH DO. BOTH DO TAKE PICS OF THE OTHER ONE AND THEY TEASE THEM WITH THE PICS LATER ON

Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?

I would say that Karma was the first one who said ‘I love you’ and the ‘bc I love you’ feels like smth Shuu would say

Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts?

Shuu likes to wear Karmas, and then:

“...shuu pls give me my clothes back I swear I have nothing to wear-“

Who wakes the other up in the middle of the night to tell them a cool dream they had? Who has the most nightmares, and who sings them back to sleep after?

Karma would be the one with cool dreams and wake Shuu up but since Shuu is a supporting bf/husband he will listen to him ❤️ and when it comes to nightmares, I would say that Shuu gets them but Karma is always there to comfort him ❤️❤️

Who is more likely to cheat?

No❤️ but if it’s in a video game- karma. He is a little bitc-

Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?

NDNSNSNSBD KARMA WOULD MAKE JOKES ABOUT IT LIKE

“Wait whattt??? You have a crush on me? Omggg stahp I’m blushing now”

“......Karma we are dating-“

Or better!

“What? Omg- really? You actually have a crush on me? Damn Shuu why didn’t you tell me”

“...Karma we are marrIED-“

Who starts a food fight in the kitchen?

Karma is a little bitch and he would start with maybe splashing some water onto Shuu and then Shuu turns to face him with a straight face “oh it’s on”

Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer?

Both initiate duets; anywhere and everywhere - and Shuu is the better singer. Karma sounds like a bitch

Who starts the hand holding? Who grabs the others butt? Who slides their arm around their waist? Who likes to put their fingers in the belt loops?

Hmmm maybe Karma would take it easy with the hand holding; like he would start taking Shuus hand when they are at home and when it comes to public he lets it be and waits for Shuu; cause if he is ready to hold hands, Karma is ready too.

GRABBING BUTTS- OMG PLS. KARMA. KARMA WOULD. AND AND HE WOULD TEASE SHUU ABOUT BEING HEAVIER THAT HE IS AND SAY THAT HIS ASS IS 4KG HEAVIER.

AND THE ARM SLIDING AROUND THE WAIST- *slams fist on the table* KARMA WOULD DO THIS ANYWHERE LITERALLY ANYWHERE.

AND THE BELT LOOPS- SHUU. SHUU WOULD THIS BUT LIKE HE WOULD DO IT AS A SIGN THAT HE IS UNCOMFORTABLE AND WANTS TO LEAVE SO HE SHOWS IT TO KARMA THAT WAY AND I THINK ITS ADORABLE.

Who likes to write the others name on their wrist?

Karma would doodle his own name on Shuus arm during study sessions or so ksksksks bonus: Shuu does NOT wash it off, when in the shower, he has this one hand stretched out so the water won’t touch the doodle.

Who is more seductive when they are drunk? and who is louder in bed?

Shuu. Both is Shuu. Pls.

Who is more protective?

Karma is pretty protective- but not in an obsessive way, more like taking care of Shuu and his health as well as his eating habits and sleep

Who talks to the other while they are sleeping?

Karma would just talk and talk till Shuu falls asleep but karma KEEPS ON TALKI-

Who drives and who has the window seat?

Karma drives bc he is the most terrain oriented and besides, Shuu likes to drink from time to time (like coming back from parties or so) so there is no way that a drunk Shuu at the steering wheel would survive.

Who falls asleep in the others lap and who carries them to bed?

Shuu would fall asleep in Karmas lap (DURING SHREK MARATHONSSS 🥴 Idk if anyone gets that but in my fanfics on Wattpad Karma is OBSESSED with Shrek lmao so Shrek marathons >>>) and Karma would carry him to bed.

Who cuts the others hair?

I would say Shuu would cut Karmas hair, pls he is perfect at everything. (.......except cooking and baking *clears throat*)

Who is super bad at sexting? and who sends them encouraging messages throughout the day?

Shuu is hella bad at sexting, but when he is drunk he is the god of flirting lmao

And the encouraging ones- hm... both djdjdjd

Who thinks they are not good enough for the others love? and who’s more afraid of loosing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?

AAAAAA NOOOO *war flashbacks: “You’re my Moron” fanfic ending II”*

Who starts random slow dancing with the other in the kitchen? Who holds the other just above the ground and kisses them?

KARMA KARMA KARMA WOULD. KARMA WOULD START TO RANDOMLY SLOW DANCE WITH SHUU IN THE KITCHEN AND THEN KISS HIM AAAAA

Who says shitty puns and sex jokes just to see the other giggle and blush?

KARMA DOES THIS IN THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE TIMES PLS

Who kissed first?

OH OH!!!

I think!!! That if maybe Karma was the first one to confess bc come on, Shuu has a reputation so yea, but when it comes to first kiss- Shuu would. Shuu would be the one who kisses Karma like totally randomly, maybe hanging out at each other houses and watching a movie and then Shuu leaNS IN AND KISSES HIM AAAAA-

Who orders take out at two in a morning? and who wakes the other up at three in the morning to go downstairs with them to get a glass of water because it’s too dark?

JDJSJSHS KARMA WOULD ORDER TAKE OUT BUT ONLY WHEN THEY ARE MAKING MOVIE MARATHONS AND THE FOOD RUNS OUT- AND THE THREE AM WATER GETTING IS SHUU BC HE IS JUST SCARED OF THE DARK YES.

Who writes poems/stories and love songs about the other? Do they sing the songs the write for them?

YES. THIS. SHUU WOULD. Since he plays many instruments, he finds himself creating love songs for Karma butttt he wouldn’t give them to him bc he would be too embarrassed ndndndnd on the other hand, Karma would write poetry and stories for Shuu like very dorky ones and cute and Shuu finds it adorable on the inside but he has to keep his reputation and standards and stuff like that up so he just says it’s stupid but let me tell you, that boy loves Karmas poetry and stories

Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?

KARMA WOULD TRY TO IMPRESS AND THEN BAM. HOSPITAL.

BUT. JUST BC KARMA IS A DORK, IT DOESNT MEAN THAT SHUU ISN’T. IMAGINE SHUU TRYING TO BAKE SMTH FOR KARMA FOR THE FIRST TIME AND HE FUCKS UP SO BADLY THEY HAD TO CALL A FIRE DEPARTMENT-

Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute?

KARMA WOULD WEAR GLASSES BUT HE WOULDN’T BE EMBARRASSED BUTTT SHUU WOULD FIND HIM EVEN MORE ATTRACTIVE

who worries about what they will look like when they are older?

BOTH, they worry that they won’t be good looking enough for the other one

who hogs the blanket?

Karma is a hoe.

who eats the others uneaten pizza crusts?

Pls, Shuu would rather die than not eat his own pizza left overs butttt Karma sometimes wont finish them and Shuu gladly accepts 😩❤️ (also a fanfic reference, bc Shuu loves pizza in that one fanfic so yea-)

who is more likely to cry over a sad book or movie?

BOTH BUT WHEN THEY ARE WATCHING A MOVIE TOGETHER AND ITS SAD THEY WONT ADMIT NOR SHOW IT

who talks while playing video games?

KARMA WOULD CONSTANTLY TALK AND THAT WAY HE CAN BEAT SHUU BC HE DISTRACTS HIM BUT SHUU ALSO TALKS BC HE HAS QUESTIONS ABOUT THE GAME

who sings along with the radio?

KARMA SINGS BUT HORRIBLY AND SHUU IS THE TYPE TO HUM TO THE SONGS

who would enter them both into a talent show?

KARMA BUT NOW THAT I THINK OF IT, RIO WOULD FORCE THEM TO DO THAT BEFORE KARMA CAN EVEN THINK OF IT

who would accidentally set the kitchen on fire while cooking?

DO I NEED TO ANSWER THIS? 💀 (Shuu.)

who would throw the other into a pool?

KARMA WOULD THROW SHUU INTO A POOL. IDC. HE WOULD. B U T SHUU WOULD QUICKLY GRAB ONTO KARMA AND THEY BOTH LAND IN THE POOL. I DON’T MAKE THE RULES.

who shops for groceries?

THEY BOTH DO BUT KARMA IS MORE ORIENTED DJDJDJ

who kills the spiders?

PLSSSS SHUU IS S C R E E T C H I N G AT THE SIGHT OF A SPIDER. KARMA IS THERE TO KILL/GET IT OUT TO SAFETY BUT BEFORE THAT, HE CHASES SHUU AROUND THE HOUSE WITH IT

who is the morning/night person?

SHUU IS A MORNING PERSON AND KARMA A NIGHT PERSON. BUTTTT ON SOME DAYS- *EHEM* SHUU ISNT A MORNING PERSON BC THEY HAD S-

whO PROPOSES?

KARMAAAAAAAA

I thinkkk that I have more of those- as soon as I find them, I’ll post them here 😩✨