#also prose was not on my side with this one but. whatever

[cherryjuicegf]

There was always this specific stillness when he held her in his arms.

It is there now, too, as his arms crawl around her body, trembling, clinging. Despite all his pretty and ugly words, he has no language to describe it. A warmth, perhaps, of the kind that an all-consuming fire leaves behind in a scorching battlefield, and then nests scared in its middle. And it's still, lifeless, quiet, a graveyard.

This kind of stillness, then. Such that, the moment he feels her body against his, all the fire and the doom of the world ceases, all the shouting and the blood blurs and all that remains is her, and the quivering fire, and the ashes that smell like lilac and gooseberries.

And he, who only ever knew to run from the fire, welcomes her with open arms.

He holds her tight, gripping. Almost regrets it. He doesn't want to bruise her, but then, her porcelain skin and the chaos in her veins prevents him from that. It's a relief to remember. He cannot control the might with which his fingers dig into her body.

Silently, he apologizes.

Back then, in the few nights they had spent together, she would smile once she felt the desperate force of his touch. The smile bordered on a content smirk as she read in his eyes what she wanted to know, as the helplessness of his desire settled between her brows and eased the fine line that would have been carved there during all these years of uncertainty and craving, if it wasn't for unblemished magic. And oh, how he loved to see the way her lips quirked. Because he knew he would do anything to see it again.

A fortunate thing, for he was not known for his ability to quench his ever-present, gaping, devouring need.

For a moment now, it seems to him that she smiles again amidst the agony and the loss and the drying tears. Shaking, he traces the corner of her lips with his thumb, and the smile disappears, and it's like it was never there.

But that was always the case. And maybe he doesn't tell her, he never did. He never found the words, and what words could he ever find for loss, what words could he ever find for love?

It's only in the way he grips her tight and begs the world to stop for a moment, begs for her to stay right there, close, still, just for a moment, before she slips through his fingers once more like a dancing flame and disappears, as if she was never supposed to be there in the first place.

As if every time he holds her, he loses her all over again, little by little. And with her goes a piece of his heart.

He knew. He can't deny knowing. What kind of storyteller doesn't know the way their story ends?

He nuzzles in her hair, buries his face. They are soft, despite the ashes, and it's just like the way he always does while lying beside her, while pulling her close. He almost can't help it, the affirmation of her presence being a place he can bury himself in.

A grave that keeps walking away.

He knew, of course he did. If not from the start, then from the first time he felt her arms around him, clawing and grateful. To this day, he curses himself for not hugging her back if it meant he could steal just one more moment of stillness.

Well then, he thinks, at least now they are even.

A hug, unrequited, as his heart begs to feel hers against it, but she only hangs limp and lifeless in his arms.

The story, he knew, ends in grief. It is always like that with him, for some reason. Always the knowledge that something will end.

And now that it's over, he can't help but cling, grasp, hold on, for as long as he is allowed to, because suddenly he can't imagine any use for his arms if they are not able to hug her again, no use for his fingers if they can't tangle in her hair, play her praises, no use for his voice if he can't utter her name.

And thus, he is done.

He can only hold her now, just like he always did, except for once, and carry her down and let her go with a hope of seeing her again, and let his wretched hope bring him to his knees.

And he will still hold on, for it is all that remains.

Slowly, he leans and places a kiss on her forehead. Remembers how she smiled, how she ran into his arms, that one time they hadn't yet named the last.

Her body is still warm, forever warm, for he was no time to feel her getting colder. He can't even fathom it. The cold only seeps in as he lays her down the wooden boat, and nails his heart like a shard of ice, like a winter's wind, and the only comfort is that he will remember the coldness of her absence, for that, at least, was familiar. And this is it. This is how it always has been.

She slips through his fingers once again, and this time the stillness remains forever.

[royalarchivist]

I say this in the kindest way possible, but I think this style of prose is more appropriate for a personal account rather than an update account. I have no idea who's being talked about half the time. 🥲

[ Tumblr meme via @mikaikaika ]

[kashilascorner]

What were the prose Tristan authors eating for lunch when they wrote Mark and Tristan's dynamics seriously it's so toxic but also like they keep hanging around each other? Toxic exes except family instead of lovers

[yumeka-sxf]

Thoughts on Spy x Family: Family Portrait

I finally got around to reading the SxF light novel, Family Portrait...and I mean "finally" because it's literally been sitting in my shelf since it was first released in English back in December of last year! I was distracted by Code White and the SxF video game which came out around the same time, but even long after that, I was having trouble getting motivated to read it. For some reason, experiencing SxF in novel format instead of in anime/manga just didn't appeal to me, plus the fact that it's not written by Endo himself (these weird preferences of mine are also why I'm not into reading fanfics either). Don't get me wrong, in general I love reading stories in prose form too, but for a series like SxF that already has such an established visual identity, it doesn't feel as "authentic" to me if that makes any sense. But I did want to read it eventually, since it is an official part of SxF media and Endo did the illustrations and does acknowledge the book (he wrote a nice afterword at the end). So I finally sat down and read it in sections over the course of this week! I'll share my brief thoughts on each of the contained stories:

Novel Mission 1

Since this was the first story in the book, it took me a while to get used to experiencing the world of SxF in novel form. There were some things I felt would have been better conveyed in anime/manga, for example, one of the very first gags about Yor misinterpreting Anya's nature class as some sort of hardcore outdoor survival trip. As I was reading that part I was like "I get the joke, but it would have been funnier if I actually saw these images and the characters' expressions with Endo's comedic illustrations." It was also a bit jarring to hear the characters thoughts and feelings from third-person narration, but I got used to it. As for the story itself, it was Damianya focused, something I'm not particularly into, but I don't mind it either. I liked the rare, soft Damian moments, and the thing with the squirrel eating Anya's peanut trail was funny. I also liked the scene at the beginning where Loid and Yor feed Bond together while Anya watches.

Novel Mission 2

Oddly, this was my favorite of the stories! Of all the characters, I think the author nailed Yuri's unhinged thoughts the best - as I was reading, I couldn't help but hear every cringe thought in his voice, which is a good sign of how well the author gets the character! I actually chuckled at a few parts too, both from his insane Yor-obsessed and anti-Loid musings, as well as from his banter with Anya. The police interrogation scene was great and would be even better if it ever gets animated! I also found it interesting that this story has the first instance where we find out what Yuri thinks about Bond (that he's fat and useless - rude!) Also his first time hearing about Franky apparently...makes we wonder if Endo will make him feel the same way if these things ever come up in the manga.

Novel Mission 3

I liked this story a lot too! I think it worked the best in novel format out of all of them, probably because it was more focused on drama and emotions than comedy. It's ironic that the two official SxF stories that feature the deeper side of Franky's character - this one and the omake chapter from volume 13 - are both not even part of the main canon! Alessa would have definitely accepted Franky's job as an informant, but he felt that someone like her should only be surrounded by "beautiful things." The poor man really needs to see that inner beauty matters too, and he has that! I also think he should have swallowed his pride and told Loid the real reason why he wanted the disguise...not that it would have changed the outcome. Poor Franky.

Novel Mission 4

This was a cute Forger-focused story, but like the first one, I felt it had parts that would have been more effective in anime/manga form, for example, "hair monster" Yor and whatever hideous painting Felix ended up making! But despite that, it was still funny and cute. Though I do think the author went a tad overboard with Yor's flustered antics...they just kept going and going, lol. Also, like the movie, we have another scenario of Loid getting flung into the air by Yor but landing gracefully on his feet (though this instance was much tamer since she wasn't drunk and only pushed him instead of hit him). Again, maybe I would have appreciated the humor in this story better if I saw it in anime/manga with Endo's hilarious designs and expressions, but for what it was, it was enjoyable enough.

Short Novel

This extra short story would be perfect as a reintroduction story for a future anime season...maybe one day!

-----

Overall, the Family Portrait novel is a nice addition to the Spy x Family universe. Even though I feel the humor in the series is most effective in illustrated form, it's still nice to have more stories in the canon, especially ones that show new sides to the characters, like the Franky and Yuri stories. Like the movie, it's debatable if this novel should be considered true canon or not, but personally, I don't find anything in it that contradicts canon, at least not yet. So yeah, definitely check out the novel if you haven't already! 😁

[marigold-hills]

Oh I am so jumping in here.

Can you give us a dreamy summer wolfstar first kiss/get together, but put it in YOUR nostalgic summer. Like whatever that means for you. Where are they? What are they eating/drinking? What is the air like? The lighting? The smells and sounds?

I humbly bow before your altar take my compliments on your prose and pacing and metaphors as my offering 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Hey! Loved this ask. It completely run away from me. Hope you enjoy it! (Also you said altar and offering and well. Those words clearly stayed with me.)

It’s wine and bread, a fancy cheese selection from Tesco’s. A little plastic pot of olives. No blanket, because they’re not tourists and don’t mind a bit of sand as seasoning.

The storm is coming in.

They can see it, across the vastness of water, darkening the horizon and stretching through the sky like spilled ink.

Recreating exactly how it was the first time, years ago:

Remus had said there’s a storm tonight. We should go and watch it.

On the beach? Sirius had asked, a bit bewildered. The wind was already picking up, and the logistics of sitting out in the open during a downpour didn’t enamour him.

Remus, undeterred, prepared a backpack. I know a place, he said, we’ll be hidden from the rain. Trust me?

And Sirius did: with his life, with his time. Followed him off the main promenade and across the dunes until they reached a hidden spot of sand: a bay, of sorts, with a railway bridge backed into the cliff side. The arches of its support beams only faced open towards the water, secluded otherwise by brick and clay.

“Used to come here with da, when I was a kid,” Remus told him: “there are fossils in the clay if you know where to look. Come out after heavy rain best, maybe we’ll find something tomorrow.”

They set up under one of the arches. Remus built a stone circle at the mouth of it, stacked it with sticks and driftwood he’d collected on their way. Set a crumpled wad of receipts from his pocket on fire and used it as kindling.

“Impressing me with your caveman skills here, Moony.” Sirius had known, of course, that wild streak within Remus, seen it shine through sometimes when he let his guard down, but this was something new. Large hands stoking the flame as it slowly engulfed the given wood, eyes alight with its reflection. Sirius felt a pull at his navel like a fishhook: handle me like this, the pull said.

He’d made a mistake, maybe, following Moony back to his parents’ house for the summer after their graduation. A miscalculation of how much he could stand watching him, in the summer heat, with sea breeze curling his hair.

Red wine, a couple paper cups. Sirius didn’t like it then yet: not like he pretended to, and it was a cheap bottle from the middle shelf. The aftertaste was sharp, it stayed on his tongue and the insides of his cheeks - dry, clinging.

Cheeses Remus had cut into cubes. Pungent Stilton with dark blue veins, Brie, white skin coating the creamy interior, fruity Wensleydale filled with cranberries.

They sat side by side by the fire as the storm hit. The rain a heavy curtain in front of them, the wind making their fire dance erratically. Sirius had never seen it like this, surprised by the intensity of the smell of salt in the air. Despite the cover, a thin mist of spray hit his face when the wind blew just right.

Remus had made him a canapé of sorts, spread a chutney on a finger-torn piece of sourdough and topped it with the Stilton. He ate it in one bite. Asked for another, just like it, the taste round and warming, somehow.

“It’s the chutney,” Remus said. “There’s chilli in it. Try an olive.”

A new thing, this, being presented with food like offerings. Remus watched each bite Sirius took with an intent, as if they were eating something rare and costly. Like this, with the storm above them and the fire in Moony’s eyes, Sirius felt each mouth full was something precious, something to be cherished. A worship, and he wasn’t sure if he was the god being praised or the offering on the altar.

They’d almost finished the bottle when Remus asked want to swim? With such wonderful abandon that Sirius didn’t even hesitate. Yes, he said, and they took off their trousers and shirts and walked hand in hand into the water.

The first crack of thunder rang out when they were knee deep. Remus laughed, free and loud like a curlew, head thrown back into the falling rain. The sky turned white with the lightning and Sirius thought it’s you, that needs to be worshipped.

Moments like this, though, something Sirius didn’t know: it’s too easy, for thoughts to be said aloud.

Remus turned to him like a trap closing. “Is that right?”

“You look like a god of the sea.”

(Another break of thunder, a wave sweeping into them, rough with the storm but soft like a touch.)

Remus took his hand, pulled him further into the water. There were raindrops caught in his eyelashes, and Sirius realised I���m close enough to touch them. He did, shaky fingers, as lighting lit them up. The water made Remus’ curls heavy and darker, sat on his skin in a fine sheen. “I want to lay you out onto the sand,” Sirius thought-said, “trace the path of every raindrop.”

“You’ll be at it for hours.”

“As long as you’ll let me.”

The first time they kissed, Remus tasted like salt.

NOTES:

I feel compelled to point out: everyone. Please don’t drink and swim! Don’t swim in the storm! Especially not in the sea.

I don’t know how I didn’t realise before you’re the person who wrote The Homecoming of Sirius Black??? I LOVED it. Honestly the fact that you enjoy my writing feels like such a massive compliment.

[thatonebirdwrites]

Book

(Part of Lena's POV from Coffee) Follow-up to L-Corp, Chill, and Scotch (Lena's POV), Catco and Family (Kara's POV), Kara and Heat, Plumerias and Ink and Aura

Hospital time exists outside of real time. Lena finds the days fold into each other, like origami, each design needlessly complicated mess. The pain simmers like an old friend, while the other symptoms irritate her. Sitting upright is difficult, and the dizziness exacerbates her sense of unreality.

Plus the unrelenting nausea from the medicines has her not wanting to eat anything.

But Sam, Kara, and Kelly won't stand for that. Nor will her nurses. So she drinks the broths and meal-replacement drinks, snacks on the frozen fruit pops, and tolerates the crummy decaffeinated tea.

She's certain she'd lose her mind if it weren't for the steady stream of books.

The one Kara reads to her she keeps on the bedside table for that is their thing now. It surprises her how much she enjoys Kara's reading voice, and the unique voices she gives each character is utterly delightful. She should ask Kara to come read for the kids at the Luthor Children's Hospital. They'd likely adore it.

So for the times when she's alone and not sleeping or taken for wheelchair 'walks,' she reads whatever the technicians find in the meager hospital library. Most are romances, which aren't her cup of tea, so she urges them to seek out any other genre.

Which is why she's reading about the origins of corn today. She expects it to be bland, but instead, she finds herself engrossed in the vivid prose, each description almost like poetry. The writer is an Indigenous woman who gardens for a living, and her storytelling prowess amazes Lena. She also reminds her of Kara due to how easily excited and fervent her prose becomes when digging deep into the history of corn and its interactions with humanity.

She's so engrossed that she misses the knock on her door at first.

"Ms. Luthor?"

She looks up, confused. The person in her doorway isn't any of the nurses or technicians that she's seen so far. Instead, they are dressed in what looks oddly like pastor garments. Their skin a deep mahogany, and their eyes a brown so dark that it blends with the black of their pupils.

"Yes?" She does not like religious people. So why one stands in her doorway irritates her.

"I was asked to stop by." The person smiles and takes a step closer. "I'm Chaplain Grove, they/them pronouns, and an agnostic. I'm here for those that aren't religious but may wish to have someone to help process their stay."

Lena blinks and tucks her bookmark into the book. She adjusts her bed with the controls so she's sort-of sitting upright. It makes her body ache and her chest hurt, but the numbing meds in the IV cools her arm and helps control the pain.

"I asked for you? When?" She searches her memory, but the unreality of time in the hospital makes it very hard to be certain of the day or when events transpire. She notes the clock, and how it's still an hour before Kara shows up.

At first that knowledge made her anxious. Now she years for it. Kara's presence grounds her, comforts her, and it honestly terrifies her how she's already fallen back into Kara's gravity well.

She has no sense of self-preservation when it comes to that blonde alien.

Grove nods. "You asked to talk with someone about your situation."

"Oh." That's right. The nurse last night, after the nightly meds, asked if she needed anything, and she'd replied, "I think I need an outside opinion about my situation. Someone who doesn't know me."

They pull a chair closer and lean forward, their hands clasped over their knees. "What is it you need?"

She might as well roll with this. "Someone I love deeply hurt me. Lied to me about their..." she can't outright say alternate identity, so she settles for something mundane, "... side job. I know it's a dangerous one, but still. It hurt."

"Your partner?" they ask.

Why is everyone calling Kara that? Lena probably should correct people, but part of her desperately wants it to be true. But that requires more trust than Lena knows how to give.

So she nods and just goes with it.

Maybe this bubble will burst when she leaves the hospital, and she'll have to reckon with the reality of their shattered friendship (relationship?). She's too tired, too in pain to think about that now. She wants the comfort, the grounding, the solidity of Kara's presence.

As much as Kelly and Sam's presence helps ground her too, it's not the same.

"Have you talked with her about how you feel?" The Chaplain asks.

"Yes, before my hospitalization." If their gazebo talk counts as that. "She apologized, promised to be honest, and do better."

"And has she?"

The question stops Lena's thoughts entirely. Has Kara done so?

She thinks through the conversations they've had since Kara's confession at the Pulitzer's. Thinks of how open Kara has been about all aspects of herself. Thinks of the tentative stories Kara shares about her childhood on Krypton, stories she admits she's been too fearful to tell anyone, even Alex. How honest she'd been about the need to hide, and how difficult it is to break those habits.

Little bits and pieces that slip out during her visiting hours.

"Yes, yes, she has." Surprise fills her, and a surge of yearning that brings tears to her eyes. "It's hard to trust her still."

"What's stopping you?"

"I..." she frowns. What is indeed? "Fear I guess."

Chaplain Grove nods. "That's a common motivator. It can be hard to push past it. Do you want to trust her again?"

"Yes, yes, so much so." The word spills out fervently, the desire for Kara so intense that Lena has to briefly close her eyes. God, she's hopeless, isn't she?

"Then why not choose to trust her? I know it sounds easy to say, but often the act of choosing can help build that foundation of trust. By choosing to trust, by choosing to try again, by choosing to be present, trust begins to grow again. So again, what's stopping you?"

Damn, this dude is good. She doesn't know what to say in response to that. So she settles for a simple reply. "You've given me a lot to consider. Thank you. I'd like to think it over alone now."

They smile. "Do you need anything else?" When she shakes her head, they stand and adjust their vest. "Then I'll let you rest. If you need me again, don't hesitate to ask."

Lena lifts her hand in a farewell, and watches them leave. The silence wraps around her, and the chaplain's words dance through her thoughts.

Choosing to trust. She knows it's never that easy.

With a sigh, Lena places her book on the side table and lowers the bed to an one-hundred and sixty degree angle. Much easier on her chest and back.

She looks up at the speckled ceiling, a drab white, and glances around the room at the paintings of waterfalls and mountains. Outside her window a palm tree moves in the breeze, and she sees the wing of the other side of the hospital.

She thinks of her talk with Kelly yesterday during her visit.

"How are you feeling today?" Kelly settles into the chair by her bed. She has a bag with her, and she pulls out knitting supplies to keep her hands busy.

"Pain, exhaustion. Irritation. Nothing new. What about you?" The way Kelly keeps their conversations simple helps Lena cope. She doesn't want complications right now. She's too sick and scared.

Kelly sighs. "I relate to the exhaustion and irritation. Alex and I had an argument about the lies she's done in regards to Kara and her work."

"Oh." Lena winces. She's partially responsible for that since she'd outed Kara to Kelly. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's all right." Kelly waves her hand at Lena with a smile. "We talked it out last night. I understand she couldn't tell me about Kara without permission, and Kara's need to hide is... a need of hers." She starts a new row of whatever she's knitting, the yarn a beautiful blend of violet, red, and turquoise. "Alex admits that part of that drive to hide is her and her mother's fault. They wanted to protect Kara. Apparently the government found out where she was as a teenager, and tried to take her away for training."

Lena's eyes widen. That sounds creepily like what her brother did with Red Daughter. "Did they?"

Kelly shakes her head. "Alex's father offered himself instead. Alex didn't get into specifics. There's a lot of trauma there."

Lena rests her hands on her stomach and looks at the ceiling. "Gives more context to it all," she says after a long silence.

"Yeah, it certainly does."

"Do -- do you forgive Alex for her lies?" Lena's not sure exactly what she's asking, but she needs to know Kelly's answer.

Kelly studies her for a long moment, her fingers deftly moving along. The clatter of the knitting needles roots Lena in the present far more than she cares to admit.

"Yes. It's not easy, but that's part of loving someone. We both apologized, we both sought repair, and we'll do better." She smiles and pauses her work to lightly touch Lena's hand. "This is what worked for me, so don't feel like you must do the same."

Lena smiles grateful for Kelly's words, but truthfully, she wants to forgive Kara. She wants things to be okay. She's tired of being angry.

She's facing death yet again, but this time it's slow and painful. Where each day feels like it might be her last. Where sometimes her breaths are so labored, her heart pulsing with pain, that the alarm of the EKG beeps a honing signal for Lady Death to visit.

But then nurses come and stabilize her, and she's wrapped once again in that timeless haze of this drawn-out healing regimen.

She's under no illusion that if Kara and Sam had not intervened, she would be dead.

The memory of Kelly's talk coupled with the Chaplain's words tangle together in Lena's mind. It feels almost like the universe itself is telling her to trust Kara.

The more she considers the situation, the more she sees how much of a pedestal she'd placed on Kara. She'd assumed perfection, placed far too much expectations on Kara, which was bound to explode at some point, regardless of Lex's meddling. That isn't fair to anyone.

Yes, Kara hurt her. Yes, trusting her again is terrifying.

But her actions since the confession proves that Kara is trying to be better. Lena can see that now; funny how being ill gives her a clarity she failed to have prior.

A knock sounds on her door again, and this time when it opens, it's Kara.

Her beautiful, lovely, and often frustrating love. She's wearing black slacks, suspenders, and a button-down violet shirt. Downright illegal handsome, especially with her hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"Hey," Kara says, nervously. "How are you feeling?"

Lena reaches out her hand. The urge to touch Kara, to feel her warmth under her fingers overwhelms her.

"Why not choose to trust her?" The chaplain's words echo in her head, followed by Kelly's "...that's part of loving someone..."

Kara scoots the chair close to her bed and grasps her hand. Lena tugs until she's even closer, and presses Kara's hand against her heart.

Since her confession, Kara's followed through on each promise, has been almost brutally honest at times, and here she is, faithfully coming every day for hours at a time. She's Supergirl, and yet she puts her Catco job, Supergirl, and all her duties aside for Lena.

Lena knows she's staring. She sees how Kara shifts and the blush that blooms on her face.

A smile curves her lips. "I'm glad you're here," she says quietly and finds she means it.

The hospital is less scary, less daunting when Kara is here. Sam may hold back the dread with her jokes and tales, but Kara's presence melts into Lena like water saturating her dehydrated cells.

A literal sunbeam and golden retriever rolled into one, and Lena finds that she can't stay away. Doing so nearly killed her.

Choose to trust?

Okay, she will then. As terrifying as that is.

***

The chaplain visits four more times, partly due to Kelly's advice. "They're trained in therapy too. Some of my cohorts ended up as chaplains. The other option is to ask for a psychologist, but they often can be more formal. I highly recommend either."

Lena trusts Kelly's expertise, so she asks for the chaplain. Each visit is only thirty minutes, but she finds, to her shock, that talking about her emotions help.

It's a novel idea.

Not a new one. Sam has been on her for years to attend therapy. She has no intention of telling her of this development since Sam is already insufferable enough.

But Sam notices the change anyway.

"You sure are calm, despite being locked up in this room," Sam says one evening. Lena's not sure which day of the stay, that timelessness of the hospital is as present as always.

"Hardly locked up," Lena drawls. "I just am too ill to move much."

"Do you walk at all?" Sam leans forward, and digs her elbows into Lena's bed to prop up her head. "Because I read laying for long periods isn't good for your muscles."

"Yes, the nurses have a physical therapist come by to work with me." Lena rolls her eyes. "I'm being cared for, Sam."

"Good. You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you seem more at peace with yourself." Sam smiles, but her forehead still has that crinkle of concern. "Who would have thought a hospital stay would bring you peace."

"Forced rest does wonders to the spirit," Lena says.

"Then perhaps we'll work in forced rest periods into your work hours," Sam jokes with a grin. "It'll be the Lena Luthor Rest Hour."

Lena weakly swats Sam, but she smiles. If this stay has taught her anything, it's drilled home how important rest is for one's body. How she's not a machine but a human with weaknesses and strengths.

And having a human body means rest as much as she loathes how it breaks into her productivity.

It hits her then.

"It's a Luthor trait to keep going despite the pain," Lena says, slowly. "I was taught productivity and efficiency is what matters the most. But that's not right at all. Love matters the most. I wouldn't be here if not for the love you and Kara have for me." She looks at Sam and tears sting her eyes. "Thank you."

Sam gently rests her hand over Lena's. "Of course. You're family."

Family.

Such a confusing premise, but Lena's starting to understand what family can be. Warmth, comfort, love, laughter, tears, grief, and trusting others to have her back.

It's something she's deeply wanted for so long, and she finds it here with Sam, with Kara, and with Kara's friends.

Sure, the lies hurt still, but no one is perfect. Even someone who loves her can fuck up, just as she messes up too. Perfection is unattainable, and she's learning to be okay with that.

Maybe choosing to trust isn't as hard as she thought.

***

Lena finds herself falling each time Kara visits. Not physically falling, but more falling deeper into love.

She's given herself permission to tentatively trust that Kara means it when she says she'll do better. That opens a door somewhere in Lena's heart, and she finds that she can't look away when Kara's at her side.

She wants to map Kara's face with her eyes, to capture this moment in perfect detail in her memory. The warmth of Kara's hand in her own as she holds it against her heart seeps through Lena's spirit.

Kara doesn't have to do this. She doesn't have to come faithfully, and yet she does. She's always done this. Always thrown aside her duties whenever Lena was in need.

The lies hurt, yes, but the warmth of these other memories began to break that hurt down. To repurpose it into the growing trust foundation. She thinks of the Japanese style of using gold to seal cracks in ceramic vessels. She's mending the cracks with Kara.

Learning about Kara's mind-healing sessions melts more gold into the cracks of their foundation. It's evidence that Lena didn't realize she needed to witness.

So shouldn't Lena try to be better for Kara too? Isn't that part of loving someone?

Her eyes rove over Kara's face, the tan of her skin, the golden locks that curl in perfect ringlets, her soft features, and the light she emits by simply being Kara.

God, she loves her so much. Those months making herself scarce had been torture, and now, as she struggles to heal from Endocarditis, she's caught up in the gravity well of Kara's gentle and loving support.

Kara had been the one to alert Sam, and now Lena has a fighting chance to beat this infection of the heart. It's almost poetic in a way, that of all her organs it's her heart impacted the most.

"Do I have something on my face?" Kara blushes and fiddles with her glasses.

Lena laughs. She can't help it. Kara is adorable when she's flustered. "Just your glasses."

Healing may be painful at times, but it also wraps her in a joy and fervent hope. One she's never allowed herself to ever feel prior. She's always been waiting for everything to crash down on her head, for the good to be taken from her.

And yet, Kara, Sam, and the others haven't left. Her brother tried to steal this all from her by ripping into her insecurities and fears in the worst way.

And yet, despite it all, despite the horror of what she's done, she's not alone. Kara is still here.

Lena wants to kiss her. (She doesn't.)

***

When Kara comes the next day, Lena has finished yet another book. This one a silly mystery, where she'd guessed the twist halfway through the book. But it passes the time.

Lena's restless. Tired of the same walls, but she's too ill to handle siting up for long, and the antibiotics side effects exhaust her.

On days when the symptoms are less, she sits in the reclining chair by the window. Birds like to build nests in the palm trees outside, and watching them brings her a quiet comfort.

The doctor's visit yesterday had alarmed Kara. Lena could see that, but it's no surprise that the infection is stubborn. Much like Lena herself.

She suspects this will end with surgery, and she knows how much Kara fears that. She'd been uncharacteristically wild in her tone, her eyes wide with fear, during the doctor's discussion about test results and Lena's condition.

So today, Lena holds out her hand and pulls Kara close, until the chair is pushed against her bed. She reaches out to gently run her hand through Kara's locks. She wore them down, likely due to Supergirl duties before this visit.

Kara studies her, intently, a quizzical look on her face.

Lena's fingers trail down Kara's cheek to her chin. She's not sure how to comfort Kara. Such things don't come easy for her, and with how ill she feels, she can't do much more than offer words and touch.

"You're here," she murmurs. The words inadequately sum up her thoughts. "We're both here."

"Yes?" Kara is still, as if afraid to disturb her. Her blue eyes are dark, and her tongue licks her lips so swiftly that Lena wonders if she imagines it.

She runs her thumb over Kara's lips, and feels the moisture there. "Time seems suspended here," she says, softly. "Days blend into one another. The sun rises and sets, and yet I'm still here. You keep saving me."

They've spoken of this before, but she can't help it. She's had far too much time to think over her life while stuck in this hospital room. The antibiotics certainly add to that surreal feeling, with how woozy they make her feel.

"I always will." Kara's gaze sears the air between them, and Lena wants to grab Kara's shirt, tug her closer, and kiss her.

But she's still too weak. So she runs her thumb over Kara's lips instead. Kara doesn't stop her.

"You're gorgeous, you know?" Lena whispers.

The blush decorates Kara's cheeks, and she sucks in a breath. The expelled air warm against Lena's fingers.

"It's cute how flustered you get with compliments," Lena says, dryly. She can't hide her smile, especially as Kara's blush deepens.

"Lena," Kara whines, but says nothing more.

Lena rubs her thumb over Kara's cheek, and thinks of how this grounds her and distracts her far more than pain meds and reading books.

For Kara is a book in of herself. Her pages on display for Lena to read, her stories rich with details now that they are fully honest with each other. With Kara, she can read forever, never tiring of the tale, never wanting to put the book down.

She holds Kara's story in her hands, and she wants nothing more than to delve into its prose, to mine it for the wonder of Kara's indomitable spirit and her endless trove of knowledge.

Each page turned, each moment shared, spills yet more gold into the cracks, and Lena feels full of hope and love.

Does she write upon Kara's heart in turn? Is their growing relationship transcribing a shared story between them? Is this what partnership is like?

All of her care team calls Kara her partner, and Lena finds she likes it. She likes it far more than she should.

Is this partnership forged because Lena's ill? Because she's in the hospital? Will it stay once she recovers and can return home?

She doesn't want to let it go.

Tears sting her eyes. Wetness dampens her cheeks. Kara's hand wipes away her tears.

"I'm here," Kara says, gently. "You're not alone."

Lena presses her face into Kara's hand.

Trust grows when the ground is fertile. This timeless hospital stay fertilizes the ground, pushes Lena to face her mortality, and she knows that Kara deserves so much more than Lena.

And yet, Kara is here anyway.

An open book that unfurls more stories each day. Each glimpse into Kara's Kryptonian heritage draws Lena closer, each memory of her Earth years sparks Lena's curiosity. Each time Kara turns the questions on Lena, and tentative she shares her own stories.

It goes against her instincts, and yet, she understands Kara's fear of loss, her need to hide. Hasn't she too hidden herself behind an impenetrable wall of ice? Yet, Kara's light melts the ice.

Will she survive this infection? Lena doesn't know, and tries to be realistic. So why not allow herself this guilty pleasure?

She's trying, and Lena can do no less.

"I know," she says. "You've always been here."

That truth transcribes across both their hearts.

***

Being under anesthesia is not a pleasant experience. Lena wakes groggy, confused, and afraid. Her heart aches, and her vision blurry, her glasses and contacts somewhere else. She feels along her blankets, touches the railings of the bed, and the cold metal grounds her. The lights are dim but still too bright.

The fear slowly abates. She's in the hospital. That's right, and she's recovering from something. It takes longer for the thought to coalesce into the word 'surgery.'

That's right. A surgery happened.

Her last memory was the anesthesiologist explaining each of his actions, while he administers the dose. The surgeon and nurses are all dressed in their blue surgery garments, gloves, and masks, their hair tucked up into the blue hats and hair nets.

Now she lays on her hospital bed in a large room full of other patients. Nurses and other specialists flutter between beds.

One of them stops by her bed. "Waking up?" The nurse sits down next to her. "Can you tell me your name?"

Lena blinks at the man, his skin a deep amber, and his eyes a warm hazel. "Lena," she manages, her throat dry. "Kieran Luthor."

"Good. Do you know what year it is?"

She's confused. Why is he asking? "2020..."

"Great." The nurse smiles. "Would you like something to drink? We can offer some apple juice or water."

"Juice please. Where exactly am I? Did -- did the surgery go..." She's a little dizzy still.

"You're in recovery. We need to watch over you until the anesthesia is fully out of your system." The nurse adjusts the blood pressure cuff and slides the oxy-meter onto her finger. He writes something on a clipboard by her bed. "Surgery went well. Once you've recovered more, the doctor will speak to you."

That's a relief. Lena briefly closes her eyes. Her mind flutters to Kara, and she pictures Kara's affectionate smile, the warmth of her body, and the kindness in her words. She opens her eyes and blinks away the floaties.

"Where's Kara?"

"Your partner?" Even the recovery nurses call her that. Huh.

"Yeah." She really shouldn't be encouraging this, but she can't help herself. She wants strong but gentle arms to hold her close. To warm her and remind her that she's alive. She wants Kara at her side, and that yearning pierces through the haze on her mind.

"She's waiting at your room. We don't normally allow visitors back here." The nurse pats her hands. "Let me get your juice."

She watches him walk toward the counters at the back of the room. Her memory sizzles with fog, but that's slowly starting to lift. Her thoughts start to come easier.

When he returns with the juice and a drinking straw, she gratefully sips, the cool liquid soothing her throat.

She's left alone again, but only brief as the nurse comes by to take her vitals again. It's a procedure that she's grown used to in her long stay here, and she moves her arm the way the nurse needs to get the most accurate readings.

No clocks within vicinity, which means she has no idea what time it is or even the exact day. She sips her juice as her mind slowly reclaims itself from the haze of anesthesia.

Once again, time sneaks away from her.

The ceiling is painted a light blue with white clouds, and the air has a sterile scent. Soft, pleasant music hums in the background.

"Ms. Luthor?" The surgeon steps up to her bedside. He's back in a white lab coat, with his blue mask still on his face. His hair is slicked back in a ponytail, his skin a deep tan. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she says. "Less pain."

He smiles. "Good. The surgery was a success. We cleared the pustules and repaired your valve. I recommend taking it easy for the next few weeks. Rest is your friend here. Your heart needs more time to heal."

"Okay." Lena figures that rest will be her life for the next few months. Between Sam and Kara, they'll keep her to that. "What else do I need for recovery?"

"I'll speak with your primary doctor, but I do recommend physical and occupational therapy. You'll need to ease back into exercise, and both can assist with that transition." He makes a notation on the clipboard. "Any other questions?"

Normally she'd unleash a dozen or so, but she's tired still and the haze has only recently lifted. "No, thank you."

"Okay. If you have any, ask your nurse, and we'll come by to chat again." He looks over the equipment recording her vitals and heartbeat. "Looking good. Would you like to see your partner now?"

Lena nods. "Yes, please."

"I'll have the nurses wheel you to her. We'll need to supervise you a few more days, but if things continue to improve, you'll be home soon enough." He clips the pen back the clipboard and pats her shoulder awkwardly. "Take care, Ms. Luthor. A nurse will be by shortly."

She's not sure why she assumed 'wheel' meant a wheelchair, but she's only a trifle disappointed when the 'wheeling' means the entire bed. For the ride, she tilts the bed to an angle that lets her sort of sit up. Not a full ninety degrees, but an easier one-hundred and fifty degrees.

The trip from the recovery suite to her old hospital room has far too much bright lights, and Lena closes her eyes against the glare.

She opens them when she hears Kara's lovely voice call, "Lena! Oh, gosh, you're okay." Kara stands in her room with Sam. Both stood from where they'd been waiting by the window.

"Hi." Lena lifts a hand in greeting. The technician lines up her bed and rehooks the vitals -- the EKG, oxy-meter, blood pressure cuff, and IV.

"If you have any questions or need something, let us know." The technician nods at Sam and Kara. He places the controls by Lena's hand. "The doctor will be by later. Rest."

After he leaves, Lena takes a steadying breath. "I survived," she says with a hint of pride. The pain simmers still, but it doesn't diminish her relief at finally seeing the end point of this journey.

"You sure did," Sam says, tears in her eyes. "You really need to stop scaring the shit out of us, Lena."

"And leave you complacent?" Lena drawls. "Better to keep you on your toes."

"Lena..." Kara tentatively reaches for her hand, but hesitates.

That won't do. Lena didn't just survive a heart infection for Kara to hesitate.

She grasps Kara's hand and tugs her closer. Her own hand trembles too much, but that's okay. Recovery takes time. She presses Kara's hand over her heart and smiles.

"I'm so glad you're going to be okay," Kara says, tearfully.

"This one was losing her mind waiting." Sam drops back into the armchair. "Almost used up my entire Dad joke catalog. Going to have to devise new ones now."

"I can't wait," Lena says sarcastically. Sam's Dad jokes are the worst, but that's part of Sam's charm.

"She's beating me at them," Kara says with a slight pout. "I tried to come up with some, but she had two to every one of mine."

"A dad joke contest?" Lena doesn't know whether to laugh or roll her eyes at their ridiculousness.

Sam laughs. "Oh yes. Next time, we'll have you and Ruby judge us. Whoever loses has to buy the snacks for the other."

"What?" Kara looks at Sam, mortified. "No way. You'll just buy me healthy snacks. I've seen what you and Ruby eat."

Sam shrugs. "Then don't lose."

Lena can't help it. She laughs. It makes her chest ache. Tears stings her eyes, and an immense gratitude and wonder saturates her. "What would I do without you two?"

"Be extremely bored," Sam says.

"I won't even entertain that," Kara says, firmly. "Life without you is dull and sad."

Lena softens. She's seen what she's like without Kara, and she doesn't ever want to go back to that. She lifts her other hand and tenderly touches Kara's cheek. "Then I'm glad you're here."

The blush tinging Kara's cheeks makes her want to kiss her, but instead she runs her thumb along Kara's lips. Kara kisses her thumb, and Lena feels it through her body.

"You two," Sam says, breaking the moment. "No wonder everyone here keeps using 'partner' for Kara."

She drops her arm as heat warms her face and neck. "Yeah..." she has no idea how to explain to Sam. She didn't know Sam had noticed that.

"And you two just went with it?" Sam glances at the two of them.

"Um... well," Kara sputters. "I just am following Lena's lead, and uh, it's nice?"

"Just nice, huh?" Lena says as she smiles.

Kara flushes again, the red deeper. "Well, uh, more than that, you know, I mean..." she trails off and rubs her thumb over Lena's palm.

"Red looks good on you," Lena teases.

That earns her Kara's characteristic whine. "Lenaaaa...."

"God, you two are sickening." Sam shakes her head. "Here I am, showing up for my best friend, and you're flirting like teenagers in front of my soup."

"You don't have any soup?" Kara says, confused.

Lena chuckles. Her eyes droop shut, the day catching up to her, and she tugs Kara closer so she can wrap her arms around more of Kara's arm. The warmth seeps through her.

Yes, today marks the start of a new chapter. Lena is glad that Kara and Sam are here to help her write it.

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

This week, we have eleven fics that feature Caleb, Essek, and at least one other person involved! Look behind the cut for some Shadowidomauk, some Blumenshadow, some Fjord/Essek/Caleb and more!

amongst the things left unforgiven by nonwal (63958, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

“In which a pair of scourgers shows up at Essek’s doorstep and saves him from himself.“ Slow-burn blumenshadow featuring heavy mistrust, mind games that aren’t mind games, and Caleb mostly in the background thinking he doesn’t deserve to be loved.

Reccer says: One of my all time faves. Nonwal’s gorgeous prose and characterization of these 4 is always top notch, but the dialogue?! The spy vs. spy mind games? The poetic descriptions of longing and grief? The visceral feeling of constant low-level panic punctuated by a full panic attack and maybe developing a crush on your current crush’s evil exes? The DIALOGUE (again)?!?! Absolutely stunning. Side note: chapter 4 features the best Jester dialogue I have ever read. The tag “openly declaring your mutual distrust can be a love language if you do it right” says so much and I love it.

Happily Ever Laughter by Settiai (1288, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Veth’s alcoholism is brought up a few times but isn’t the focus.

Adorable Essek/Caleb/Veth/Yeza slice of life fic. Polyamory is not nearly as difficult as trying to teach a hyperactive 6 year old magic can be.

Reccer says: Incredibly sweet little domestic fic. The rapport between them is so soft and gentle and well-worn like the most comfortable pair of old house slippers. The moments where Yeza and Caleb glance at each other and manage to communicate in absolute silence (in that pseudo-telepathic way that some real parenting couples often do) are just so perfect, and Veth still finding Essek somewhat aggravating even while she loves him is :chefskiss: delightful.

Three’s Company by flammablehat (2074, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb, Essek, and Fjord have a threesome, and Essek is maybe more than a little jealous about it.

Reccer says: Possessek is always a favorite! Fjord is fjeisty, and Caleb is having the time of his life. It’s both hot and tense.

altogether, infinite possibilities by ivelostmyspectacles (199305, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek has barely begun to cement his place in Caleb’s life when they bring Mollymauk Tealeaf back from the dead. Slowly, the three of them adapt together.

Reccer says: First part of a series! This was my entry point into Shadowgast!

in the pieces of what's left or what we've found by SeaWitchDreams (14620, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Astrid takes some time to figure out how she wants to rebuild her life (and who she wants to rebuild it with.)

Reccer says: a wonderfully subtle and contemplative character study, featuring four wizards carefully dancing around each other

the sea, the stars, the dreamers by nonwal (111996, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: suicidal ideation

Essek sacrifices his budding relationship with Caleb to marry Archmage Astrid Beck - for the good of the entire galaxy. But whatever Astrid's reason for marrying him is, is not nearly as noble.

Reccer says: This fic takes an unusual premise (Blumenshadow arranged marriage spaceship murder mystery with sea shanties?) and *commits* to it. Still incomplete, but if you've liked this author's other works, you won't regret taking a chance on this one.

(Oh,) How a Human Burns by witches_chant (18318, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

This is a story about Essek trying to prepare for eventual loss, depending on if Caleb wants to use the Clone spell or not. But it’s also a story about a lazy, sexy vacation on Rumblecusp where the couple stumble upon a service top and learn things about their relationship (with a happy ending!).

Reccer says: It’s both hot as hell AND feelsy! It’s a really interesting take on Caleb & Essek’s relationship. Honestly I recommend the entire series.

Victim of Convenience by se1ze (54243, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb are together, Essek and Kingsley get together, and Kingsley is losing his mind because Caleb can’t get his shit together. An exploration of the very complicated feelings that crop up when a) no one seems to understand who you are, and b) someone you love thinks they need to stay gone for your own good.

Reccer says: The dialogue is fantastic, the sex is wonderful, and the hurt/comfort is amazing. It establishes the foundation upon which Essek/Kingsley can be a thing in a way that is both endearing and completely believable. Caleb is oblivious to how much Kingsley loves him, and once again hurts those around him by throwing himself on his sword.

(nothing in my bones can say) just where you’ve been by SaltCore (8216, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

It takes more time than Caleb realized to get home from the Hellcatch Valley, and in his absence, Essek’s tentative alliance with Astrid and Eadwulf has grown to something more.

Reccer says: Soft and complicated and briefly heartbreaking. The way it manages to feel like an outsider POV reinforces the sense of missing time, of having missed a massive change, and the softness and warmth of everyone’s love for each other is palpable throughout even in the most tense and anxious of moments.

i'll meet judgement by the hounds by necromanticomedy (yelenavasilyevna) (6553, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent, knifeplay

Astrid and Eadwulf come to a dinner party to meet Essek Thelyss. Things either go very poorly or very well, depending on your definitions.

Reccer says: the author called it a "insane psychosexual foursome" but neglected to mention that it's the best insane psychosexual foursome you'll ever read

To The Bone by thetickingclock (2919, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Snapshots of Astrid and Eadwulf's opinion of Essek changing over time (and proximity to Caleb Widogast.)

Reccer says: Hits all my favorite notes when it comes to Blumenshadow, and there's an astounding amount of characterization and relationship development packed into less than 3k words.

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with Lifespan Angst!

[yourlocaltreesimp]

*insert And Another One meme*

Can I. Request a yandere chain with a reader who gifts them flowers just because they can? Or like, them just subtly courting the chain for a change? (minus wind, who they just flat out spoils because he's babey even though he's a gremlin)

And when I say court, I mean like in ways that they're probably not familiar with? Like, the reader makes up a bs excuse about needing their help to see if they can still sing because then rusty, and then singing love songs to them but it's in a language they can't recognize?

Or like, doing tasks for them? Basically acts of service, since that's an old way of courting from my country that can be easily mistaken for them being helpful, but they're just generally more careful and going above and beyond what's asked for them?

- altumsomnum (forgot to add it in the other asks lmao)

Ofc, ofc I think I miss understood the prompt, but take this in case!

TW:ok well there’s some obsession and yandere as expected, blood mentione

Oh how the mighty fall

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’d recently found yourself in quite the predicament. Not necessarily a bad one… Just, odd. Long letters of prose and poetry sealed with royal blue wax from Warriors carefully dancing around his plans to stab the others and run off with you. Quiet afternoons curled up as Sky plays you music keeping you safe and distracted as the others slit the throat of the merchant that insulted you. Ranting to Four about whatever interest snagged your mind, he’d listen for hours at your every beck and call, no matter if the sentiment wasn’t returned. Strolling around villages with Time, knowing you’re safest at his side though you didn’t know how deep their feelings went, they’d do anything at your order. Twilight teaching you how to ride a horse, sharing what knowledge he knew you’d benefit from but also so you wouldn’t be near the fight. Fresh hot meals and deserts from Wild, with some added ingredients to let you sleep so they deal with business. Reading with Hyrule in a calm clearing, uninterrupted by the others but he knows the more time you spend together, the easier it’ll be when he steals you away. Sparring with Legend, finally free to move and fight as the others do as he gauges your strength to see how hard you can fight back.

You supposed the real question was why? You didn’t do anything odd or particularly of note. In comparison to the other options they had (there were none, as if anyone could pretend they held light to your sheer divinity) you felt dim by comparison. Sure, you wanted their affection (you already had them, so much blood has been spilled in your name, their reason for living is found within your company) but between yourself and the incarnation of a goddess fool to think she’s worthy of comparison you didn’t know what prompted their behaviour. It was only until you caught a passing conversation from a village girl to her friend that you realised your fatal mistake. This wasn’t Earth. Looking back on your behaviours you felt embarrassed. You’d spent hours reading and writing poetry with Warriors when you found his passion in it. You didn’t question the blush on his cheeks when you read his poetry on love- you knew he loved the romance novels. You asked Sky to play his harp when you were doing chores and even got in the habit of singing softly when you found yourself willing. You turned a blind eye to the look of sheer endearment and adoration when you looked up from whatever you busied yourself with. You’d listened to Four go on and on about the Minish after he found their numbers dwindled in the future. He’d cried, you held him, he went on and on about each and every tiny detail of his journey, pouring his heart out in a way that he was only ever used to doing when split. You welcomed him with open arms the next time he asked if you could talk. You ran whatever errands with Time that he asked, knowing his aversion to such large crowds with no company. You thought the silent agreement to stick with one another in busy cities was forged in the mistrust of the environment you found yourself surrounded with, not out of any further attraction. You entertained the idea of learning to ride a horse to get closer with the group, bridge the gap the lay between you. You didn’t catch Twilight as he noted how quickly you caught on, how easily you’d adapt to Ordon, especially with your compassion. You helped Wild with the cooking mainly because you wanted to be useful, but from what you’ve seen, he always managed to make simple tasks entertaining. He, meanwhile, was falling over himself at the fact that someone is willing to help him, let alone out of the goodness of their heart, let alone you who he’d lay down lives for. Reading with Rulie so you could learn a little more about their lives and culture as he saw you preparing to live out the rest of your days in the Hyrules. Asking Leg for help fighting because you knew he’d be the only one who wouldn’t hold back, while he enjoyed being closer with you, having the excuse to finally be near you without any glares. Looking back, you see why they acted as they did.

BONUS:

In long and short, the chain did a lot for you, for your affections. And it really began to bother you that they never accepted anything in return. They never took thanks, for it is what was ‘expected’ of courting, and yet you felt as if there was more to be done. And so, you decided on a plan. You’d simply have to be stubborn. It was rewarding to see blushes tinting their cheeks as they read the letters you’d written for them in turn. Watching their eyes light up as you goth them all jewellery, tokens that they treasured more than anything Hylia had given them. Finding excuses to take them all on dates and seeing their hearts squeeze.

[inthesleepydunes]

ppcu fic recs submitted by the community ♥️

hi everyone! thank you so much for the love on my initial post! i had so much fun putting this list together! i’ll be making more rec posts so my asks/dm’s are always open if you have anything you’d like to submit ♥️

Three’s Company by @pennyserenade - submitted by @whatsnewalycat

what aly said: Listen. I think about ex-husband dieter bravo all of the fucking time. This work especially is just… ugh. Amazing. Miranda’s prose is out of this world. It’s inspired and unique and idk I love her writing style so much. Also, obviously, this pairing is 😮‍💨🔥

Destiny and Deliverance by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings - submitted by @bitchwitch1981

what zelly said: It is so well written and detailed. Mysty put so much effort into research for the story and it 100% paid off. I have become so emotionally attached to the characters that I don't think I will ever let them go.

Someone’s Wife in the Boat of Someone’s Husband by @netherfeildren - submitted by @peeta-is-useless and @futuraa-free

what peeta-is-useless said: “Someone’s wife in the boat with someone’s husband” is such a beautiful fic that literally feels like you’re reading a novel. It completely draws you in and connects you with the characters. Basically, you come for spice and stay for a gorgeous plot😭

what bella said: This is probably one of the first Joel fics I ever read when i joined the fandom, it’s everything you want it to be: it will make you cry, it will make your heart melt and it will make you wish this version of Joel Miller was real. Plus Vic is an incredible writer all around.

Someone to be thankful for by @joelsgreys - submitted by @peeta-is-useless

what they said: Someone to be thankful for” is really a cute little one shot for Thanksgiving that captures family trauma and throws in a side of finding love and healing. Again, gorgeous story by an amazing writer.

Good to Me by @tonysopranosrobe/swiftispunk13 on ao3 - submitted by @peeta-is-useless

what they said: “Good to me” is one I found quite a while ago and I thought that I wouldn’t be into the plot but then I started reading just because and swiftispunk trapped me into this alt universe, porn with feelings goodness. I’ve been so in love with many of their fics though.

Red Light by @kiwisbell on ao3 - submitted by @peeta-is-useless

what they said: Red Light” is not something I would normally read at all. I’m not usually here for the dark stuff… however this was so good and you really get into the head of someone who thinks he’s doing the right thing- also it’s really fucking hot.

Soft & Sweet + Sugar & Spice by @cavillscurls - submitted by @peeta-is-useless

Soft & Sweet” and “Sugar & Spice” are so lovely. I don’t even have that much to say- they really are the definition of what I look for when I want Jackson Joel🖤 fluff, spice, a little angst and it’s tied up in a little bow.

A Lover’s Pinch by @hier--soir - submitted by @peeta-is-useless

what they said: “A lover’s pinch” is one I can never stray far from. I always find myself coming back because it also reads like the most beautiful novel. Just the progression and spice to feelings ratio- aghhhh. Like the perfect fic.

Gravity by @insomniamamma - submitted by @fromthedeskoftheraven

what raven said: She's a lovely person, brilliant wordsmith, and master of writing Ezra and the Prospect universe, and I think everyone needs to read her work (and whatever you do, do not miss her Prickle'verse fics, because they are sublime) 💖

Dark Shades of Innocence Lost by @mermaidgirl30 - self submission

what jamie said: it’s just my favorite that I’ve written and would love to spread the love to others who might not have gotten the chance to read or see it ☺️

[deanmarywinchester]

previous years: 2022, 2021 / list of worst sf/f/horror

the bangers were BANGING this year, I kept mentally readjusting my top 5 list every time I read something good so the honorable mentions are extremely honorable this year. I hope you read anything that sounds good from this list and tell me about it!

top 5:

chain gang all stars by nana kwame adjei-brenyah: when I say that this book is like the hunger games for adults, I’m not making a glib comparison between two books about fighting to the death, I’m saying that I haven’t felt so intensely about a book since I stayed up late to tear through the hunger games and sob about it when I was thirteen. this book is satire as real and devastating as I’ve ever read, with action scenes that feel like they’re being dripped directly into my hindbrain and a unique and believable love story. put it on hold at your library literally RIGHT now.

the actual star by monica byrne: about a post-climate catastrophe utopian society built around a religion started by a teenage girl in 2012 based on mayan traditions, and also about the teenage girl, and also about the maya. this book made me crazy because the future society felt real enough to touch, with its radical openness and collectivity solving problems that exist today but causing new ones that are totally novel and meaty and interesting to dig into. read it if you’re interested in different ways of being.

the spear cuts through water by simon jiménez: really, REALLY good, fresh, original epic fantasy. jimenez picks a few perspectives to stick to but hops fluidly into bystanders’ brains to give you their perspectives, so even background characters feel fleshed-out and no one’s pain is dismissed as a side effect of heroic battles or whatever. highly recommended if you like framing narratives and stories about stories, and like epic fantasy but wish it wasn’t mostly about finding acceptable enemies to slaughter with cool swords

the dispossessed by ursula k. le guin: I love how much this book is about hope as clear-eyed commitment to the boring and difficult work of a brighter and necessary future. sometimes the work of the glorious anarcho-communist revolution is leaving your university post and romantic partner for months at a time to dig irrigation ditches so nobody starves when there’s a drought. read this book for diplomatic conniving, a clash of values between a capitalist planet and its dissident moon, and hope.

imperial radch trilogy and its spinoffs by ann leckie: what if you were built to be a weapon of the empire, a serene sentient battleship with thousands of human bodies all containing your consciousness, and you lost all bodies but one and had to figure out how to be a person, singular and alone? what if you were a 19th century british military officer and you slept for a thousand years into the decline of the empire? what if you were grown in a vat to be a facsimile of human and then told off for eating all your siblings even though eating them was SO interesting? what then. leckie’s prose is incisive and funny, her unreliable narrators are wonderful, and her stories are intimate even though the backdrops are insanely huge. 👍.

honorable mentions:

house of leaves by mark z. danielewski: guys? anyone hearda this one? anyway. Something Is Wrong With This House horror with themes of storytelling and grief. recommending that you slam this book as fast as possible like I did so you can hold all its layers in your head at once.

the lathe of heaven by ursula k le guin: i thought I didn’t like ursula k le guin, and then I read this book, went OH and immediately devoured the hainish cycle. im so sorry miss ursula. this book about a hapless pacific northwesterner whose therapist is making him dream different realities into being is so sharp and sly and funny. themes of choices, ends and means.

he who drowned the world by shelley parker-chan: I liked the prequel to this addition to the radiant emperor duology. I LOVED this book. parker-chan has invented new and exciting modes of fucked-up codependency and im obsessed. historical light-fantasy with themes of ideals vs what it takes to reach them, gender, and regret.

babel by r. f. kuang: found the didacticism of this book annoying, but i really loved the concept of this novel and the way it slowly ratchets up the stakes. this novel is for people who want to smash the fun of the magic school genre against the reality of universities’ complicity in the imperial machine.

piranesi by susannah clarke: im late to this book but it’s such a weird little gem. peaceful yet unsettling. a man takes care of an endless house with an ocean inside it until he realizes the house is stealing his memories. themes of memory and devotion.

hell follows with us by andrew joseph white: I can only read YA these days if it’s a reread or if it’s genuinely good and really really strange. this is that. weird gory fantasy about a trans teen who escapes his militarized post-apocalyptic christian cult and finds himself turning into something Different. my only gripe is that he uses 2023-perfect language to describe transness and I think he should be inventing genders weve never even thought of. such is YA.

some desperate glory by emily tesch: a rolickin’ good space opera time with terrible women <3. a thriller about how the golden child of her isolated human-supremacist space station cult deprograms and the consequences of it. this feels like a grown-up SPOP until the theoretical physics gets involved. big fan

the library of mount char by scott hawkins: this book is harrow the ninth in suburbia until it becomes a more macabre version of the absurdity of the gomens apocalypse. God raises his children, sometimes brutally, to hone their powers in a neighborhood that mysteriously keeps out outsiders. came for the dysfunctional mess of the god-children and now I can never look at a grill the same way

runners up:

bunny by mona awad: books that make you WISH you were in mona awad’s MFA program where she must have been having a terrible time. the weird one out in an MFA program accepts overtures into the unbearable rich-girls’ clique to find out what they’re Up To. themes of aimlessness and the intersection of class with the art world

camp damascus by chuck tingle: have you ever wished that you were simply too autistic to be successfully demonically brainwashed into not having gay thoughts? horror-flavored thriller that was just fun

light from uncommon stars by ryka aoki: this author put a bunch of genres in a blender and came up with something fun and surprisingly cozy. an immortal woman must sell violinists’ souls to the devil in exchange for their fame, or he’ll drag her to damnation instead. there might be aliens and coffeeshop romance involved. definitely a blender.

the fragile threads of power by v. e. schwab: if you haven’t read a darker shade of magic and you like tightly paced high fantasy and historical fantasy elements, political intrigue, and pirates, read that first. if you have, there’s more now! lila bard are you free on thursday when I am free

the library of the dead & our lady of mysterious ailments by t. l. huchu: a teenage girl provides for her family in soft-apocalypse magic edinburgh with a job carrying messages from ghosts to their living relatives. an ongoing mystery series about the intrigues she uncovers among the dead.

severance by ling ma: this books is on the list of media that is the terror to me: it's about an apocalyptic disease that makes people reenact their routines mindlessly until they collapse. intimate apocalypse novel with themes of late capitalist malaise.

ocean’s echo by everina maxwell: i didn't really like winter's orbit because i'm just not a romance guy, but this second novel stands alone and the romance is more insane and less of the entire point of the novel. (also it's between essentially Discworld's Carrot and Moist Von Lipwig, which is. really something.) in the Space Military, a buttoned-up mind controller must pretend to bend a socialite with illegal mind-reading powers to his will. what if fake relationship but the relationship they have to fake is "brain linked master/servant pair."

the murderbot diaries by martha wells: novellas about a misanthropic security android who jailbroke itself in order to watch tv. the name "murderbot" is a joke but it very much did kill people <3 themes of paranoia and outsiderhood, corporate wrongdoing, repentance, and trust

black water sister by zen cho: zen cho is good at any kind of fantasy she writes, including this, her first modern fantasy novel. a closeted lesbian has to move in with her family in malaysia after college in the US, only to discover that her dead grandmother has some unfinished business involving a local goddess and a conniving real estate developer. themes of family, gender, and place.

the way inn by will wiles: a man who’s paid to pretend he’s other people to attend conferences in their place gets trapped in an endless Marriott. has the sharp humor of a colson whitehead corporate satire until it becomes more straightforwardly horror-flavored.

[squarebracket-trickster]

Writeblr Re-Intro!!

Friends and Enemy, hi!

I figured I would write a new intro because my old one is now out-of-date. I have finished my second draft of WIPVII (placeholder name until I actually bother to title it). It clocked in at 77 049 words, which was exactly within my goal of 80 000 +/- 5000.

After many false starts and a deliberate hiatus to flesh out some worldbuilding, I am now working on my third draft!

This blog is really just for me, to chronicle my thoughts as I write, but I have made so many friends on Writeblr already and am always open to making more!

For the actual intro bit:

My name is Kate, Square, Not-Square (thanks Not-Cheeto hehe), Rubiks (thanks Sleepy :3), or whatever nickname you would like for me (she/her). I mostly write fantasy with the occasional sci-fi project on the side. I love epic high fantasy (in the vein of LotR or Wheel of Time) and YA fantasy romances equally.

Funny enough, my current project is none of those things. It's more like a YA twist on a Shakespeare comedy than anything else -- if I had to pick a genre. Something like Twelfth Night, Cymbeline, or As You Like It. It's got a young women running from an arranged marriage, a b-plot to prevent a war, forbidden love, mistaken identity hijinks, a forest setting, bandits, a fairy-tale High Medieval backdrop, and it wouldn't be truly like a Shakespeare comedy without cross-dressing and queer characters.

I have several other WIPs on the go but this is the one I am prioritizing.

I don't post full chapters because I am hoping to query one of these centuries (and also, it's not yet ready for human eyes)... but I do live-blog the process when I am writing and I share my favourite lines.

My goal for my third draft is just to make the prose effective. My first drafts are word vomit. My second drafts are mostly structural and trimming the cringe. My third drafts are where it actually starts to reflect my prose ability.

If you write sci-fi, fantasy, or weird fiction of any kind I would love to get to know you. You are also welcome to hang around if you are interested in watching someone else go through the revision process of writing a novel, or if the concept itself intrigues you. I am happy to answer questions about first/second drafts and writing in general.

[thegeminisage]

I have to know about the dead beat ghost of George Kirk, that lit my brain up. Also Spock on Spock violence either/or. both even?

BOTH IS GOOD. tysm. this got so long don't worry about reading this entire answer lol <3

ok, so, spock on spock violence is a fanfic i conceived when i was deep in the throes of trek last autumn. but i had to wait until i had watched EVERYTHING with nimoy's spock in it before i could begin working on it, and by the time i got there, the steam sort of ran out of my engines. so i'm not sure if it'll ever get done at this point, especially considering i sort of veered back into working on something else. anyway, to general concept of this is - while it's very sweet that in the movies and in real life quinto spock and nimoy spock are friends, it's also. love and light. a little boring. i think that really, spock is an individual who is in many ways at war with himself, and when asked the age-old question "would you fight your clone or fuck him?" would unequivocally choose FIGHT every time

the very basic plot of the fic (which is really just a flimsy excuse for spock and spock to be petty cut-throat bitches at each other) is that post stid quinto spock has been traumatized by 1. the death of his mother 2. the death of his planet 3. the death of his boyfriend (hi, jim) and he's decided to break up with jim and do a kohlinahr so he doesn't have to feel grief anymore (and, with his longer vulcan lifespan, never has to watch jim die) because this shit is killing him. jim thinks this is stupid and nimoy spock also thinks this is stupid so nimoy spock and quinto spock spend a great deal of time hurling insults at one another about it.

there is also a side plot that very vaguely cribs from the tos episode "what are little girls made of?" wherein people are getting replaced by androids, and at one point, quinto spock is tempted by a jim android, because, after all:

an android jim never has to suffer! he never has to die! spock could have and love his boyfriend FOREVER AND EVER and never have to fear the pain of loss ever again! that will totally work and fix everything with absolutely zero problems, right?

since i don't actually have any prose written for this yet, i will provide an excerpt from my notes, edited slightly for clarity:

to quinto spock, nimoy spock is a living example of his every failure and his worst fears. he gave up the good fight against his own internal humanity, he TOOK A HUMAN MATE (gross!), and he allowed/indirectly caused vulcan to be destroyed. nimoy spock, old and at the end of his life, has no one. he's been mourning his jim for longer than they were ever together. the only thing he knows is the unbearable pain of grief. quinto spock fears this kind of pain more than anything. he thinks he is seeing his own future and he is desperate to prevent it via any means possible, even the kolinahr - this timeline can be different, right?

to nimoy spock, quinto spock is a living example of the very worst and most cowardly parts of himself, and wastes all the precious opportunities he has - he makes nimoy spock sick with envy. quinto spock has SO many years left to spend with jim and he's going to WASTE them just because he's afraid of what life will be like without him. worse, he's hurting the person nimoy spock loved most by pushing him away, and it's all his own (nimoy spock's) fault because vulcan was kind of his bad. by allowing vulcan to be destroyed he has ruined not only his future, but also his past. quinto spock is destroying himself from the inside over his misguided prejudice over his own humanity, and his internalized xenophobia or whatever, and he's too young and too stupid to see that the only way to get through it is to GO through it, and he won't listen to the one person he should trust above all others (himself) because he HATES HIMSELF, that's his/their whole problem

like, imagine your entire deal is self-loathing and an abject refusal to accept both halves of your extremely internally conflicted being. and then suddenly there's another version of yourself who can stand next to you, who can be blamed and yelled at (possibly punched?), who is somehow doing an EVEN WORSE JOB at being you than you already are!!!!! you have to watch this other you make mistakes so massive even YOU wouldn't do them and you guys are supposed to NOT fight somehow??

ultimately, this is a fic about confronting grief and pain rather than running away from it, but it also morphed into a kind of fix-it for generations (the movie where kirk bites it in the most underwhelming death scene ever) which turned it into a very full project because those two things are a bit at odds with each other, so i had to reoutline it, but the outline IS all ready to go, i just...haven't gotten around to it yet because i'm working on the other project. i haven't given up on it though!!!

deadbeat ghost of george kirk is essentially a story about how completely useless it is to have a ghost for a dad. not a literal ghost, it's not that kind of story, but despite how affecting the opening of the 2009 movie is, we have to contend with the sad reality that if you grow up without a dad there is a high risk of simply becoming chris pine's kirk. like, that's why he's like that, right? hard truths. i only have about 800 words of this and it's quite likely it will never be finished or posted, but every time someone says something horrible to me in real life about my dead dad (happens more often than you think) i add another rage-fueled paragraph. an excerpt (content warning for child abuse and suicidal ideation):

What's so heroic about it, anyway? Jim's dad didn't die to save eight hundred lives; he died to save two, and counted the other seven hundred ninety-eight as a happy bonus. And what became of those two people? His mother a chronically offworld functional alcoholic, married to a chronically on-world nonfunctional alcoholic, whose favorite hobby is hitting his wife's sons with his belt and whose second favorite hobby is seeing which bones he can break with his steel-toed boots. Jim himself, sent to the hell that was Tarsus IV for driving a car off a cliff, who at eleven years old had already been jaded enough to consider just going off the cliff with it. Would George Kirk do it again the same way, if he could somehow know how the world turned without him in it? Would he think it was a fair trade? Either the answer is no and he was an idiot who threw away his life for nothing, or the answer is yes and he was an asshole. Either way, it hardly amounts to heroism. What good is a dead father to anybody? They can't turn up at the school play or the track meets. They can't teach you to tie a tie or throw a punch at bullies or slip you your first beer or bring you birthday gifts. You can't give a Father's Day card to an empty grave, not if you're saying anything true. All the cards say things like Thanks for being there for me, Dad!, and all Jim knows about his father is that there is the one place he wasn't. See, Jim has been in space, which is quite literally the absence of everything. He's also been on Tarsus IV, a planet where people got so hungry they started hacking limbs off of corpses to soothe the absolute absence of food in their stomach. And yet, for all that, the absence of George Kirk is the keenest absence he's ever known.

let people send you an ask with the WIP title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

[tortoisebore]

any tips for new writers?

(btw i am literally in love with hey, sharpshooter it had me up all night reading it <3)

**disclaimer that i am by no means a person that has any actual real education/experience in writing or character work or world building & i can only give you what has worked for me & the things i’ve kept in mind while writing my little gay fanfiction 💞👯‍♀️

my main big picture tips are not backed up in research, they’re just what’s worked for me:

1. make a deeply detailed outline. spending a lot of time writing a very long, detailed outline at the beginning helped me a lot when i felt stuck in the back half of the fic. the outline changed a lot from when i started it, and i added little notes and ideas for scenes or dialogues or character traits along the way, but all of my big idea generation happened there and it helped me a lot with pacing the plot and building the characters and their relationship gradually. also** it was not some sort of technically perfect, structured outline—this is what it looked like:

fr just get all of your ideas down on a page in whatever way works for you. this is the place to word-dump to your heart’s content!!

2. make the first draft bad. fr just get it in the page. if you’re not feeling it or don’t have any specific word choices in your head when you’re writing the first draft, don’t worry about the dialogue being realistic or having perfect flowery metaphors or beautiful descriptive world building. literally just get it on the page in whatever way you can.

3. connect the dots between the type of writing you like to read and what you like to write. i loveee books with flowery prose and metaphors and natural dialogue, and i found that i really enjoyed writing those things, so they were the goals i focused on while i was doing all my editing/second draft writing. on the flip side, if you like to read extensive world-building but find yourself struggling to find motivation/inspiration to write it, don’t. try to write how you want to write, but put more emphasis on writing how you like to write.

4. don’t force it. this has been crucial to me bc i work a 9-5 in the art/design industry and i only have so much creative energy to go around, so i have to ration it carefully. if you try to force yourself to write when you’re really not feeling it, or when you’re out of motivation and frustrated and tired, it will 100% show in your writing.

5. don’t think about posting your work. for 99% of us, this is a hobby. posting your work is not a hobby, creating it is!! rn we exist in a world where people view creativity and art solely as content to be consumed, and i encourage you to place more emphasis on actually enjoying and finding peace and meaning in the journey of making something rather than the idea of other people consuming it. what it does for you and how it makes you feel is far more important than what it does for the people pressuring you for an update you’re not ready to give them.

and then here are a couple technical/grammatical tips that i learned way back in like 6th grade english or picked up on by reading a million books over the years & still think of constantly:

1. vary your sentence structure!! i am sometimes bad at this and i don’t really pay attention to it in my first drafts, but when i go back and edit i make sure to vary my sentences by length, compound vs. simple, breaking up with semicolons or hyphens, etc. a story that’s written with strong, varied sentence types will read much more naturally and flow better than one that doesn’t

2. be intentional about starting your sentences with different words. again, when i’m writing my first drafts i don’t pay much attention to things like this, but when i’m editing i’m really anal about making sure that my sentences don’t all start with “he” or “[insert name here]” or “it” or whatever. sometimes you can’t work around it, but my goal is to never have two consecutive sentences start with the same word, and i really really try to make sure that two consecutive paragraphs don’t start with the same word

3. say your dialogue out loud. i had the hardest time trying to make my dialogue feel natural at the start but honest to god saying it out loud with all the cadence and emphases you’re writing it with can really help you find ways to make it feel like actual people talking. also, don’t be afraid to use ellipses and hyphens and break up a string of dialogue with an action, like a character sighing or biting the inside of their cheek or moving their hands. people don’t talk in perfectly-structured sentences. we run-on and don’t use punctuation and we restart or hesitate in the middle of a sentence—include that!!

[definitelynotshouting]

context: ik most of my asks are pretty disorganized, stream of consciousness type of thing but GEEZ this got out of hand. you know that thing cats do when they bring you a dead mouse and *they're* super proud of it and you're just like dude.. why /lh

i usually put whatever my immediate thoughts are after reading the chapter and this time i thought it might be fun to write it out before. can you tell im running on five hours of sleep?? lmk if this made any coherent sense because even i dont understand it!!

so last chapter ripped my heartt out and stomped on it. i am LIVING for the way this whole thing was written, gorgeous prose as always <3. i was very curious as to wether Mumbo would question Grian but i think him NOT doing that was SO in character, and i adore it. I feel like w/ some fics (my own writing included) Scar is the ONLY one Grian relies on for support (in ANY area), and whenever Mumbo is even in the picture, he's just kinda "there", he doesn't check up on Grian or broach the topic of whatever is currently plaguing our little bird guy (basically, he's not involved in Grian's life despite being "his best friend"). And the way you characterized him was just So Real?? I would wager a guess (correct me if im wrong ofc) that part of it is that he just DOESNT know, (because Grian is oh so good at telling half truths and privately justifying his self sabotage) but a part of it is also him being lowkey willfully ignorant. he doesnt WANT Grian to be sick (mentally or otherwise) but definetly knows that SOMETHING is up. he really WANTS to help fix whatever is going on (evident by the gold farm) but he doesnt know what Grian needs or how to help him.

i have been OBSESSING over how Grian saying goodnight to Mumbo was ACTUALLY his goodbye to him but Mumbo DOESNT KNOW AND ITS EATING ME ALIVE. (also thought it was super interesting how Grian sort of took Mumbo leaving to sleep as "permission" to do the deed)

side ish note: how tf does Grian even plan to do that?? ik he's got the spider eyes and i *think* he's planning to turn the healing potions into weakness potions but like?? how is he going to do that??? i would assume that the gang would be watching the potions AS they were brewing, and even if they weren't, healing potions and weakness potions are.... vastly different colors. (unless im mixing them up with something else). also aren't they going to walk in on him prepping or already being in the middle of it and just save him like last time? the team as a whole has done a pretty good job on keeping an eye on Grian (from just a "this person can't walk" standpoint) so far. is he waiting for a chance when everyone is busy or does he plan to use MORE weakness potions to make it stronger or quicker?? im interested to see if he's even going to follow The Plan, because up until this point he's been pretty careful with trying to make plans and sneak around EXCEPT for the spider eyes basement adventure, which makes me wonder is he'll get more frantic/desperate as the appointed time draws closer.

Real talk though, Mumbo (and everyone else) is going to be beating himself up over not noticing when stuff goes down (which i would assume would be next chapter, but idk). Also, the fact that Grian asked him to stay means A LOT. To me (and idk if this is what you meant to convey) that signals that a part of him WANTS to stay. theres a part of him that wants to continue to experience the comfort and joy he gets from his friends, but he feels like he's only going to continue to hurt them, so to him this is the ONLY option to keep them safe. also the majority of his existence is just misery and pain so thats probably not helping. (PLUS the whole slew of mental health issues, this is not purely self sacrificial).

anyway, i LOVED this chapter as always, it was like chicken noodle soup for my overworked little soul and i savored every bit of it!! (also, no need to apologize for not having enough spoons!! i dont have any chronic illnesses but i know that shit sucks. this is a particularly long ask for me so dont feel compelled to answer everything in it, or answer right away. hope ur doing well <3)

-🐛

BUG ANONNNN THIS COMMENT IS SO SWEET AND I LOVED READING IT OMGGGG

you hit the nail exactly on the head for where im going with mumbo's characterization-- there is 100% a level of willful ignorance there. Ive always felt like mumbo is the kind of guy who has a thing about avoidance-- he feels very much like a character who will absolutely do his best to ignore things that hes decided arent his business (right up until he stops LMFAO) and part of that in hunger au is him being so anxious for grian to get better that he stops looking at the red flags grian is aggressively waving around. It'll work out!! He's sure of it!! Grian even directly said he's trying to get better!! And i think if he looked at that for longer than it takes for him to flinch away from the entire subject, he would see how much of a bald lie that is.

But he doesnt, because thats a LOT to deal with, and hes never really??? Seen this side of Grian before??? Not the way Pearl and Scar have. Theres a lot of intricacy there that i feel im skimming over but like Mumbo is very much keeping his own sanity in mind here too and thats another painful factor to the whole situation. Idk i have lots of thoughts about it and about the choice here to depict Mumbo giving in to that willful ignorance, and how its going to affect his and Grian's relationship in the future of the fic

(Quick tw for frank discussions of suicide below)

You've also completely nailed the subtext i was getting at with Grian asking Mumbo to stay-- smth ive always felt is a bit underrepresented in narratives like these are how at its most base core, suicide and suicidal ideation are often about needing something to fundamentally change in your life. It takes a LOT of both hopelessness and sheer willpower to actively try and overcome your body's instinctive will to survive. That instinct is baked into our very cells; when someone commits, it means their hopelessness for meaningful change to happen in their lives was so strong it overpowered everything else. And that is something deeply, deeply tragic, and also something i really wanted to respectfully highlight in this portrayal-- how bad things are when you spiral that far. Grian is starving to death. He wasnt lying about maybe having a week to live-- the intermittent feeding has kept him alive longer than anticipated, but its like trying to wall off an avalanche; theres only so much you can do in the face of all that :( and that hopelessness, in combination with how guilty he feels for what he did to his friends, has manifested in him feeling like his only recourse is to kill himself... but at the same time, that instinct to survive and KEEP SURVIVING is still blaring in his veins, and that manifests as him asking Mumbo to stay. Its a bit paradoxical, but its meant to really show how bad his mental state is, that he is willfully ignoring all the frantic signals his body is screaming at him to try and stay alive rn 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Also, with the potions-- without revealing too much about how this is going to happen, Grian is planning on making fermented spider eyes and using them to turn the healing potions into harming potions, which he'll then drink in the in-between to make sure he dies immediately. Now.. i know how this is gonna go, and i know the exact mechanics around how this is gonna shake out, but smth to keep in mind is hes not thinking logically anymore, he has FULLY capitulated to his own storm of emotional wreckage. So yes there are DEFINITELY some questions to be asked about how hes gonna try and get this done, but in all honesty they mostly boil down to "sheer opportunity" which you'll see a bit more of in the next chapter >:] but yeah its meant to be a bit illogical skdbwkdjskd since he just isnt thinking coherently anymore at this point :(

Bug anon thank u for my entire life this comment was so sweet and so wonderful to receive, i really love it when my writing is analyzed like this and seen and understood!!! Its amazing its such a wonderful feeling to have your work be seen like this and its something i very much do not take for granted :]]]❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ tysm for the ask i am seriously treasuring it SO MUCH rn (and also thank you for the well-wishes!! Im doing my best to stay silly out here HEHE)❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[plaguedocboi]

Tell us more about Moby Dick!! :D

Ishmael is a fascinating little specimen let me tell you. He has a reputation for being a “boring narrator” but that’s complete bullshit. Right out the gate he’s like “hello this is my (fake) name, I’m poor, I’m depressed, but luckily when I can tell I’m about to kill myself I hop my ass on a boat because the water can cure whatever’s wrong with you, also we are all being controlled by the puppet strings of the divine and free will is an illusion. It is now Page Three.”

The entire first part of the book is his story of meeting, falling in love with, and marrying a hot tattooed Polynesian man in what may be the first recorded case of the “there was only one bed” trope and it only gets wilder from there. This really caught be off guard tbh, I had no idea that there was so much gay stuff in this book.

I honestly cannot even pick my favorite Ishmael moment. Could it be him being adamantly on the wrong side of the “are whales fish or mammals” debate? That he suggests narwhal’s horns would be good for turning the pages of small books? When he hides behind the mast and eats some spermaceti because he just has to know what it tastes like? When he tattooed himself with measurements of a beached whale but rounded all the numbers because he also needed room for the poem he was writing on his arm? The gay sperm squeezing chapter? When he made his drunk listeners fetch him a priest and a Bible so he could swear he was telling the truth? And then lied????

Ishmael’s musings range from beautiful, lyrical prose that makes you stop and reread the section because damn, and chapters about How Rope Works and encyclopedic writing about the whaling industry. There are lofty theological debates and accusations about the reader being a fish. You spend much of this book wildly seasick because Ishmael’s voice is manic, hilarious, and disorienting. Once you’ve finished this story, you, too, will feel like you’ve spent three years aboard a whaling ship.

Although the unhinged tangents are often amusing, many people complain because they probably account for 90% of the book with only the remaining 10% devoted to the plot. Surely if we just got rid of Ishmael’s Nonsense it would be better, correct? No. This is Ishmael’s memoir. He knows how it ends. These plot-delaying anecdotes are purposeful; he does not want to reach the end because it is The End. The death of his friends and his husband. The inevitable, unforgiving blade of fate that slices the lives of of the Pequod’s crew short and leaves him alone and adrift at sea. Enjoy his journey, because it may seem long now but it ends all too soon.

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Can you do where Y/N and Johnny are in a secret relationship, but Ryan is yn's brother, and he fines about her and Johnny relationship,

And ryan is so mad at Johnny because he thinks Johnny will take advantage of you.

If you're comfortable with writing 🤗🙂

Impulse

It was all whirlwind- first that party, now Y/N ran into her brother’s hot friend, Johnny, on a daily basis. But she saw something in him, and in Ryan’s eyes that’s the worst part of it all.

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader

(Fluff, angst)

2.1k Words

Warnings: Suggestive content, alcohol, parties, overprotectiveness, unplanned pregnancies, lying, flirting, making out, bribes

An: Thank you so much for this request! While doing research for this fic I finished reading Serious as Dog Dirt and went down an unrelated rabbit hole of transgressive fiction, so I’m sure the prose of this fic is some horrible mixture of Bam and Kerouac XD Anyways, thank you for sending in all of those requests and please keep them coming!! Fun fact, tomorrow marks my one year anniversary of writing Jackass fics! 200 followers later, I just want to thank you all for all the friends I’ve made and the love I’ve received from this community :)

This whole mess started when you ran into him at a party your brother dragged you to. “Cmon, Y/N- you never get out. It’ll be fun, I promise!” The house parties Ryan frequented weren’t really your scene, so in your mind you didn’t see the use in showing up to some release party for that skate video he made with his dipshit friends because it’s probably the same bag. But he could drive a pretty convincing bargain when he wanted to and you eventually gave in, deciding to tag along (albeit half willingly).

That’s where you were introduced to him- one of Ryan’s friends: sweet, charming, polite in a way you only see in men from the south and with this accent that seemed to slip out after a few drinks. Fuck, he even called you ma’am. Nothing like the Philly-trash assholes who only want to hump and ditch that you thought you'd be running into. For that night, it seemed your whole world revolved around this handsome stranger. but by the next morning, he was long gone, and all that was left was this longing for something you thought you would never see again.

But, as you’d come to find out, that video Ryan was in became bigger than you expected. In fact, MTV wanted him on this new show of thier’s called Jackass- mainly due to his friend, Bam, who you only really knew as the guy who came by from time to time and who seemed hellbent on fucking with you. That meant there would be filming in Westchester, and as you would come to find out, that hot stranger happened to be the leader of the merry gang of weirdos that your brother introduced you to. And to think, you were sure that by this point you would be over him…now, it seemed the bug was on you again, and that bug’s name was Johnny Knoxville.

Part of you was kind of curious when it came to how the whole tv thing would work, so you started tagging along with Ryan while they filmed under the flimsy guise of seeing how the sausage was made. Even though, at the party, he was both aware of and cool with whatever was going on between you and his buddy, Ryan was also pretty damn wasted at the time, and after a lifetime of living with him you knew he may not be as welcoming with one of his bros hitting on his sister. You had to be slick about this.

Knoxville knew this too, waiting until most of the guys were busy with the cameras and setting up whatever stunt they were working on to step off to where you were waiting on the side and start chatting you up. “Y’know, I never caught your name, ma’am.” Your heart jumped a bit, kind of shocked that he recognized or remembered you in the first place, but you played it cool. “It's Y/N. You're Johnny, right?” Of course you knew who he was, but it was the first thing that came to mind, okay? Well, that blush that was creeping onto your cheeks and the tips of your ears kinda gave it away you weren't really as nonchalant as you let on. The amused grin that crept onto his face let it slip that not only did Knoxville notice your skittishness- he liked it. He chuckled, glancing you up and down with this amused little spark in his eye, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Y’know, ever since that premier, I was kinda hoping I’d run into you again.” He glanced towards you over the tops of his sunglasses. God, those glasses- they really aided to the hot, mysterious stranger thing he had going on. “I was gettin’ pretty hot that night, and the only thing I can really recall was running into you.” In your eyes, Johnny was probably the one guy in the world that could use cliches and cheesy pick up lines like that and not sound like a total moron.

Fuck it, you thought. Fate was giving you a second chance and you were going to take it! “Maybe we could get dinner some time? Uh- together, I mean.” The auditable tension in your voice gave away how much mental psyching yourself up that simple act took, and you knew it once the words came tumbling out of your mouth. In contrast, this whole situation was getting more and more entertaining in his eyes. Johnny took this distinct pleasure in throwing you off your game, and maybe that’s what drew you towards him so much. I mean, you’d seen him on Jackass- it’s not a surprise that the guy who goes prancing through LA with a strap-on under his basketball shorts enjoys making people just a bit uncomfortable. Knowing his influence on the situation, he couldn’t help himself, “That sounds great! How does tonight sound?”

Johnny wasn’t at the bar, and that was the only thing that tipped any of the guys off to the fact something was amiss. “Seriously- he couldn’t come have drinks with us?” Ryan said what everyone else was thinking. Well, everyone except Steve, who was the one person Johnny had confided in the fact he was taking one of their friends’ sisters out to dinner, because you don’t tell just anyone that kind of thing. It's not like he was gonna go out there and rat on his best bro like that, so the only option he had was to run cover for him,“I mean- maybe he isn’t feeling good? Knoxville took some pretty hard hits today…” He was a piss poor liar, and if it wasn’t for the fact the rest of the crew was half shitfaced, they probably would’ve called bullshit. But the guys seemed satisfied with that explanation, going on discussing the stunts of the day and not noticing the sigh of relief for Steve once the conversation topic changed.

So, as always, the bar crawl began, and guess where the guys happened to show up next? Yep, just your luck. Sure the restaurant Johnny invited you out to had a bar, but you didn’t think people would go there for the express purpose of getting drunk. See, you thought through this, but clearly not well enough. Peering around the crowd, Bam squinted a little through drunk goggles to try and get a better look at two oddly familiar people sitting at a table. “Hey, Ry. Isn’t that Knoxville and your sister over there?” Ryan’s neck should’ve broken with how fast he turned around to where Bam was pointing who, speaking of, found this whole situation hilarious, “Dude- it is! We gotta go fuck with ‘em- c’mon.” Well, he didn’t need any more convincing- your brother was already storming over to the table, but you didn’t even notice the two were there in the first place until Ryan spoke up with forced nonchalance, “Hey, what’s goin’ on with you guys?” In contrast to your immediate panic, Johnny seemed so relaxed compared to you as you stammered out a response, “Oh! We were just, uh- I was out, and I just ran into Knoxville!”

“Since when do you go to the bar by yourself?” Finding this whole situation purely hilarious, Bam leaned to your brother with this shit eating grin, “I think they’re on a date.” Ryan scoffed disbelievingly, “No fucking way-“ The tension seemed to thicken as he turned back to you and Johnny, who was getting more and more smug about all of this, “No, no- you two are not on a date. Screw this-“ And your brother abruptly up and left with his little cronie trailing behind, snickering and leaving Steve as the child of this divorce. “Should I, uh- should I go?” While you were still trying to mentally work out what the hell just happened, Johnny turned to him, still not taking any of this seriously, “You into threesomes?” Before Steve could actually consider it, he replied for him, “Yeah, I think you should go.”

This is the kinda thing that makes a guy sick. Ryan knew he had to bring it up to you sometime, so he gave you a call the next day while he was off filming while you decided to stay home even though you had time off work because of obvious reasons. “We need to talk about Knoxville- about you and Knoxville.” Your heart stopped for a second. I mean, what you really wanted to say was that you were a grown woman who could manage your love life very well on your own, but he sounded like he was really concerned for you, so you shut up. “I know these guys better than anyone and I’m just- I’m trying to look out for you here.”

Even though this whole conversation was happening over the phone, you could practically see the mix of frustration and concern on Ryan’s face as he spoke. He didn’t want to see you get hurt. Sure, none of them were exactly known for their stable lifestyles, but Johnny sweet. He was charming and made you laugh, so maybe that was enough for you to ignore a few red flags. You wouldn’t say that to him, though. “I get it, Ry. I’ll be careful, just- let me give him a chance, okay? It’ll be fine.” There was something about the earnestness in your voice that made your brother bite back his nerves and decide that he would have to try something else. “Alright. But he even breathes wrong in your direction and I’ll kill him.”

When the guys took a break in the middle of the day while filming, Ryan got a chance to pull Johnny aside and confront him about all of this, “Hey, man- what’s goin’ on with you and Y/N?” He didn’t want to hear that you were going out because no guy wants to hear that kinda thing. Johnny took a seat in one of the lawn chairs they had set up outside as he told his side of the story, “All I did was take her out to dinner. That’s it!” That was the same explanation you gave him when he grilled you on this- it was only a dinner.

“But it’s never just dinner. C’mon-“ Ryan was never a staunch believer in whatever the ‘bro code’ was, but he knew there was something in there regarding it being frowned upon to date and or be fucking your friends’ sisters. “It's weird, and you know it!” The rest of the cast had been pretending not to be secretly listening in on all this drama since the beginning, but with the way things were heating, it was harder to do it on the sly. But neither of the men involved noticed or really gave a shit about the gawking at this point. Johnny reached into the slushy cooler and grabbed himself something to drink, “Listen, I’m not sure what you’re gettin’ so upset over- I didn’t do anything with her.” Cracking open a can, he looked up at Ryan over his sunglasses and added for the express purpose of being an ass to him, “Not yet.”

After that, you and Johnny kept seeing each other in secret. It was like you were a pair of teenagers sneaking around together- all you were missing was a pair of bleachers to make out under. You had to, given the fact he was only in town for a couple weeks. There was a thrill to it, trying to avoid the other guys by slipping behind cars while you were pretty sure nobody was watching (except that one time with Bam, that sneaky little shit- you had to pay him off to promise not to tell on you) or having quickies in bathroom stalls. I mean, you had to make the most of your time together, right?

If you didn’t think your brother would actually follow through on that death threat he made earlier when you told him you were interested in one of his friends, you certainly did now that you told him you got pregnant from one of them. “Seriously? Like, actually Y/N?” Ryan’s voice was a muddled mess of emotions after you broke the news, but he pulled himself together, “Alright…who fucking was it?” Swallowing, you got an idea on how you could make sure Johnny would be keeping his head on his shoulder after you hung up the phone. You needed to phrase this carefully. “Uh, it’s PJ’s.” PJ, PJ…holy shit that’s Knoxville. Given the fact he usually referred to him by his stage name, it took Ryan a second to connect the dots.

You didn’t tell Johnny- you hadn’t decided what you wanted to do yet, and even though you really, really liked him, you weren’t sure how the hell he would react to finding out one of his hookups got pregnant, but you knew eventually you would have to come clean to him. Ryan wanted to ask how the hell all of this happened since Johnny left Westchester for LA months ago, but he didn’t wanna think about how that happened because he knew fully well himself and didn’t wanna have to hear it from you, much less imagine the two of you screwing. Fuck. He needed a drink…