#been messing about with it long enough

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

Can't any more.

[lilithofpenandbook]

Sometimes Severus comes up to Minerva. Right up behind her when she's busy. He'll stand there for a good minute as she works on marking assignments and cursing the boy's youthful energy and brilliant eyes- both of which directly responsible for his finishing his work in half the time it takes her.

"What is it, Severus?" Minerva sighs. Might as well get the obligatory nonsense over and done with, she was due a dose of Severus's antics by now (Merlin forbid he go more than three days without bothering her with nonsensical questions or infuriating wit).

"Am I ugly, Minerva?" he asked. Never there was a being with such innocence in their voice.

Minerva took a moment to take in a breath and silently call on all her patience and all her strength. "Yes, very." Her tone was blunter than the knives used to decorate at Halloween- an incident with some particularly idiotic third years had them ban anything sharper than the corners of a book during the Halloween celebrations.

Severus gasped as if stabbed. "What? Minerva, I thought we were friends!"

Minerva snorted. "Any time we interact, it's completely against my will."

"Minerva! you lie so shamelessly it shocks me." Severus made as if to swoon, a hand clutching the right of his chest.

"You must be shocked; your heart isn't where it should be."

Honestly, Minerva had to admire the fact that the insolent little kitten did not falter in his dramatics with her pointing out the key flaw in his act. If anything, he seemed to be encouraged.

"Ay! The pain of the shock, it has spread throughout my chest! Ah, I cannot breathe!" Severus swayed on his feet, leaning against the chair that Minerva was sitting in. "Oh, how your lie shocks me!"

"Well, then, you had better tell me what exactly I lied about," Minerva said briskly, "before you gasp all the air out of your skinny little lungs, laddie."

"You said," the boy said, a sudden glint in his eye and none of the apparent weakness, standing to face her and one of those long, delicate fingers pointed straight at her, "you said, that our interactions are without your will."

"That is no lie, what part of this looks like it's my will?" Minerva replied, knowing full well she wasn't going to appreciate the cheeky answer Severus had prepared for her.

"Why, the part where you remain for my company, mother," Severus replied, his voice light. "Surely, if you didn't want this, you would have, in your infinite wisdom, simply have employed your great power and assumed your famous feline form and just walked away from me."

Minerva fought her smile. His cheek was infuriating while his logic impeccable. "Perhaps I am simply conversing my energy, you arrogant wee rascal."

"You? Too lazy to avoid a nuisance?" Severus scoffed. "Minerva, you wound me. Don't you know how I know you? You've done much more to avoid the mildest of annoyances, do you truly think I believe that you are here against your will merely to converse your energy?"

Minerva let him see the flicker of a smile disgusted as a smirk, letting the bothersome raven have a little treat for his cleverness, hinting to him that he had essentially won this particular argument. "At my age you no longer have the patience to waste on annoyances. You learn to value your peace. You will understand that some day, I hope, little one."

"And if I die, my hair still black and my skin still smooth?"

Merlin, did the child have a turn towards the morbid. Minerva ignored the voice in her that told her that this would have been a retort of her own had she been in a similar conversation.

"Then you'll die a fool."

"A fool, perhaps, but my funeral will be the biggest," he replied, moving to sit on her desk and grabbing the biscuit jar. Minerva intercepted, lifting it from his grip and replacing it with a towel. His protests died in his confusion at the towel, and Minerva huffed and began to wipe his hands as if he was a child. She did not trust him to correctly clean his hands after handling goodness knows what when experimenting with his potions and she didn't care if he knew it.

"Aye, and how did you figure that?" she asked.

"Surely if I die young, I shall be the first. Therefore you all will be part of the funeral-"

"What makes you think I would want to attend your funeral, you little rascal?" She let go of his hands, almost satisfied that they weren't contaminated.

Severus ignored her and instead took a biscuit from the jar. "You will all be there, therefore I will have the biggest funeral. If I die old, you all shall be gone, so my funeral will be the smallest."

Minerva tried not to think of how depressing that sounded, how lonely it seemed. For a brief moment she felt guilty for being so old and he so young. She involuntarily could see him in her mind's eye, going through their funerals until he stood alone. She and the others- Rolanda, Pomona, Poppy, even Fillus and Hagrid- they were all of an age, weren't they? They could expect their lives to reach the end around the same time, surely? Severus was but a child next to them, he'd stand alone one day.

Minerva tried to ignore the ache in her chest at the thought of him standing alone. Merlin, no. He was far too young. No.

"You truly are besotted with the morbid and the miserable, you melanchonic masochist," she said, her tone just a trifle too sharp to be a simple retort.

Severus paused, swallowing the biscuit. Then he answered. "Ah, but the morbid is much more fascinating, the forbidden has a certain thrill, dear mother." His voice was a little softer, and his fingers, slightly coated in crumbs, were gentle when he tapped her forehead. He was sorry he upset her.

"You and your thrills," Minerva scolded, "yet you cannot even eat a biscuit without making a mess of yourself." Yet even as she spoke, the hand that she used to swipe the crumbs away, was gentle, almost tender, in its movement. She had quite forgiven him.

How could she remain angry? At this boy who looked at her with a scowl of indignation yet whose deep, dark eyes twinkled with mischief and cleverness and brilliance, who stood taller than her, yes, yet was far more delicate in his build than she had ever been, whose hair was as dark as hers had been in her youth, carelessly falling across his forehead. No, she could not remain angry.

If only he had been in Gryffindor, perhaps then she would have noticed him sooner. Or rather, if only her eyes didn't only open for her Gryffindors. How this boy could ever look at her without resentment and anger, she didn't know. Then again, he had been so incredibly isolated and lonely, was it any wonder he let go of his rightful grudges and instead accepted her friendship?

Minerva blinked as if soot from the fireplace got in her eyes. She didn't want him to notice the tears that almost inevitably formed whenever she thought about him. Who would have thought that she'd cry so much for the little devil?

"I'll leave you to your work, dear mother," Severus said cheerfully, hopping off her desk.

"Aye, after you've cleared out my biscuit jar, you villain" Minerva grumbled, looking into the empty jar. Severus shrugged.

"You ought to see it as a compliment towards your taste, really," Severus said. "But I see I have taken the last of your patience"- for indeed, Minerva looked ready to strangle him- "so I shall take my leave. Good night, my good Headmistress, and may you have peace in the silver embrace of the moon!"

And with a laughing twinkle in his eye and a boyish bow, Severus Snape left the room.

Minerva sighed. She wasn't sure if it was out of relief, or because she may have felt some sorrow at his departure.

The door opened again, and a rather meek Severus poked his head in.

"Er, Minerva?" he asked.

"Yes, Severus?"

"Er." Severus stepped in, looking away from her, walking with the awkward gait of a newborn foal, and the nervousness of a deer. "Er, Minerva?"

"Yes, Severus?"

"Am I really ugly, mother?" His voice was a whisper. His raven hair curtained his face, hiding his shame at asking such a pathetic question, and his fingers picked at one of the cuticles of a nail.

Minerva smiled, and walked to him. Softly she brushed the boy's hair out of his face and gently tucked it behind his ear.

"Only as long as you let yourself believe it, dear heart."

[teyrnacousland]

Thinking about Illario again. Illario has been through a lot. Just as much as Lucanis. He lost his parents at a young age, as well as aunts, uncles, maybe even a sibling. He was raised just as isolated and friendless, and was tortured and neglected as much as Lucanis. Illario is very familiar with grief and loneliness.

And Illario knows Lucanis is going to die soon. They both might, they're Crows, after all, but Lucanis has just... accepted it. He seems to almost want it. He refuses to take any step to prevent or delay that fate. He will never decline dangerous jobs, will never quit, and he will, however reluctantly, accept a position that they both know will place a huge target on his back.

And Illario has to live every day knowing that one of his only two remaining family members, and the only person who actually cares about and loves him, the only person Illario really even likes let alone loves, is going to die. Any day now. He has to think about it on every job they do, every day they continue to be who they are; the only surviving Dellamorte heirs. He has to think about all the loss and grief he's been through, and know that the worst is yet to come. Not that he didn't love his parents, but he was young, and it was so long ago. Losing Lucanis, who he loves, who he's known and loved for like 30 years, will be the worst thing he's ever had to experience and he has to know it.

Have you ever known you're about to lose somebody close to you? Have you ever had to wake up every day with the thought that this could be their last haunting your every waking hour? Have you ever found yourself wishing, even if only in the deepest farthest back part of your thoughts, that they would just die already because you can't take another day of worrying and waiting? I have. Anticipatory grief is hell.

And I think that's where Illario is at with Lucanis. Every day is like that, watching Lucanis tightrope along the edge of death and just waiting for the worst day of his life. Illario doesn't want Lucanis dead, not really. (Even if the thought "I'd be First Talon if you weren't here" has crossed his mind.) He loves Lucanis. But Lucanis is going to die anyways, so he might as well just get it over with. Lucanis himself said his calling is death, and Illario's is First Talon. You could, in a twisted way, argue that this is what Lucanis would have wanted.

Illario has faced loss before and come out the other side, so once Lucanis is gone it'll hurt, but he'll be able to start moving on. And Illario will get what he's always wanted: he'll have proven he's the better Crow, he'll be the favourite (by default), and he'll be First Talon, like he wanted. So he'll be fine. Everything will be fine.

[majouartings]

guess who's been playing ace attorney again IT WAS ME

sometimes the real otp is you x the ship that altered your brain chemistry for a little while when you were 18

[waitineedaname]

Came here because of your FMA Post-Canon GreedLing series and now I want to read/watch/idfk what this is SVSSS now. You've infected me and now I need to do research

YESSS READ MY SICKOS NOVEL!!

my very basic pitch: SVSSS is Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, a Chinese transmigration novel! the premise is that Shen Yuan is the #1 anti-fan of a trashy stallion novel -- he likes the monsters and the little crumbs of plot and loves the protagonist, but fucking hates literally everything else about it. when he finishes it, he's so overcome with rage about the ending that it literally kills him, and his dying thoughts are "dumbfuck author, dumbfuck novel." much to his surprise, he wakes up as the central villain of that novel with a transmigration system essentially telling him "you think you can do better? just fucking try it buddy"

it's a hilarious series, and a very quick read! the characters are really fun, the two main characters are completely deranged (a classic example of "I can fix him" *makes him worse*), and the balance between ridiculous humor and genuine emotion is excellent. also, as a loving satire of stallion novels/BL novels/webnovels in general, it has a lot of interesting things to say about the tropes embedded in those stories, as well as interesting things to say about being a writer and being a reader!

there are official print translations in English, so I recommend checking out your local library/bookstores, but if that doesn't work for you, it's also available on the Internet Archive and Anna's Archive! it's fairly short, only four books (three for the main plot + fourth book of plot-relevant extras)

enjoy!!

[coquelicoq]

this relationship between the emperor and his favorite concubine is something else. because apparently she was his DAD'S concubine and she reminds him of his mom...he's like you're the only connection i have to my mother (presumably because she was friends with his mom, because they were concubines of the same guy, and because after his mom died she used to take care of him and make him the food his mom used to make him because she "loves children") and i'm sitting there like 😬 ok where are we going with this. then i get to the end of the show and discover they weren't going anywhere with it in particular. they were just like, we want this guy to have a mommy complex and we want you to know about it. okay. thanks i guess...

[tohruies]

omg i made it to coco’s inbox ahh i never manage to !!

okay so i know absolutely nothing about karasu which feels like a crime because i love tabico, but what better way than to get to know him through someone who loves him - so if you had to describe him, how would you? and linked to that, what about him made you fall for him??

and also i love you so much, always <3333 i hope june is an amazing month for you !!

ERIS, I LOVE YOU!!!!!! i am so happy to have you here, how are you!!!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK. i am already tearing up thinking about my response 🥹💘 wah. Wah.... top 5 asks that could kill a coco......... ;;;;

i hope it is not repetitive of me to say this, but i like to think of karasu as a pomegranate 🥺 from the outside, he's hard to read... thick skinned, but not necessarily in a mean way ;; just... sealed? you can't tell what he's feeling by looking. he's tough on the surface, maybe a little rough too, like he's protecting something inside. but if you take the time to open him up... very gently and very tenderly, what's inside is so red and vibrant and beautiful 🥺 all the pieces of his heart like seeds tucked close together where they're safe and no one with malicious intent can reach him 🥺

and he's not easy!!!! you can't just bite into him; you have to be patient... he's the kind of person you have to work for, i think. not because he wants to make it hard, but because he's been dropped a few times and knows that not everyone is gentle 🥺 you get your hands stained with him, but if you're willing, he gives you something so incredibly honest and precious. and once you see the inside of a pomegranate, you never forget it, you know! ah. this is how karasu feels to me... (⌯˃̶᷄ ﹏ ˂̶᷄⌯)ﾟ

WARNING: THERE IS A VERY LONG LIST UNDER THE CUT 🥺🥺🥺

i love that he doesn't know how beautiful he really is

i love the way he looks at "ugly" things... how he doesn't turn away from them. and how he doesn't pretend they are "beautiful" either. he just sees them for what they are -- somehow that makes them softer

i love that he gets angry at unfair things. i think it means that he cares more than people (and he, himself) realise

i love that he never tries to impress anyone and how he just does what needs to be done. even when it's hard. even when no one acknowledges his efforts

i love that he is not afraid of scary things... rough things... the harshness of this world. be he is afraid of soft things, like being loved too gently or being seen too clearly

i love that he does things without asking for thanks, like fixing things that are broken, or listening when no one else does. i love how he remembers things that seem small

i love that he is not always kind, at least, in the way the world likes. but he is kind 🥹 in the way thorn bushes are kind because they protect their roses... something like this

i love how he isn't gentle in the way people expect, but doesn't drop what matters to him

i love how he walks like someone who doesn't expect to be followed

i love that he doesn't try to be understood, even if it makes him very lonely sometimes

i love the way he looks at things when he thinks no one's watching. the way his eyes pause on small, ordinary miracles, like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis or steam curling from a bowl of soup

i love that he's not always easy, because most things worth loving aren't

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

I think I need that "Wow, I haven't stubbed my toe in five months! I was then shot fifty-seven times." Audio again

[telesodalite]

Woe, unfinished, mildly edited, fulfire fic tid-bits be upon you

-

Like a magnet, his optics kept drifting back to Misfire's face. His stupid, strangely charming face.

For a short while, after Clemency, it had been that face that haunted some of his nightmares. His recalls blurring the lines between the strange reality of Misfire's hands reaching into him to lock his fuel pump back into the very spot he'd pulled it from, and the fear that just as easily he could pull it out again. They had been bloody dreams. Dreams that had him startling awake, gripping his chest in the vain attempt to close what wasn't open, before spending the rest of the day avoiding Misfire's optics.

But now things were different. Not Misfire's face. No, that hadn't changed much. But Fulcrum's dreams had definitely changed. To say the least of what all rolled around in his processor as he slept nowadays.

Some of those newer dreams had crept to the forefront of his mind as he sat there on the couch, staring as the lights of the screen reflected dully across Misfire's plating in hazy blues and greys.

The lighting made his colors seem muddy and faded, but Fulcrum didn't really care, nor did he care to think what it made himself look like. He was too busy bringing an empty engex can to his lips while he watched the crinkle of Misfire's nose as he barked a laugh at something Fulcrum didn't catch onscreen.

He'd started noticing it months ago, all the ways the silvery mesh of Misfire's face would scrunch up with his emotions. Those little crinkles along his optics and nose when he laughed or glared. The creases indented along his cheeks when he grinned. Fulcrum found himself quietly logging away these little details. Idle notes and observations that had suddenly started piling up in the corners of his processer.

He… He'd never really done that before? He'd never really noticed those sorts of things in other mechs.

The faces and expressions of his past colleagues never seemed terribly important. All the details of every smile and frown were never worth filing away, outside of few notable moments where those expressions reflected his work performance. But besides the smile that meant promotion, and the frown that meant he'd screwed up, nothing else was noticeable. Nothing was worth remembering.

But now the memory of every genuine laugh that bubbled out of Misfire sat comfortably besides memories of warm joyful optics that Fulcrum found himself collecting every time Crankcase cracked a rare half-smile for him, or when Krok placed a reassuring hand against his back, or the times Spinister spontaneously pointed out something odd but ultimately nice about his stupid frame.

He didn't really know why he was doing it, memorizing all these mundane little things, just to have them flit through his processer randomly. Maybe it was because those expressions, those details, felt… comforting? Comforting in such a strange and unfamiliar way. But, a good way. A good sort of strange, much like the mechs themselves.

-

-

He had stared for a long moment, the credits and their rolling tune playing somewhere in the background as Fulcrum stared back. But Misfire was never one for personable silence, even as the sound of some likely long dead Iaconian orchestra filled the room.

"What is it?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping him as he brought a hand to his face, "Don't tell me I've poured it all over myself again."

It had taken Fulcrum longer than usual to unstick his glossa from the roof of his mouth as he watched Misfire run a thumb over his lips, but eventually he had coughed out a small, choked, "No."

That had earned him an odd look at first, but with their fields loose and open, Fulcrum could almost feel the exact moment something clicked in Misfire's mind, as the idle comfortable static he projected in pulsing waves evened out into something openly curious and almost subdued.

It wasn't often Fulcrum felt him that clearly.

Misfire tended to keep his field fairly close, though, maybe not as close as the others did, what with how Crankcase kept an iron grip on his, and how Krok's always held an air of strained control, even when it slipped from him. But still, Misfire's was always hard to read, no matter the reach or depth of his field.

Even then and there, with it loose and unfiltered and buzzing with the engex running through his system, there was an ever present undertone of something indescribably jumbled about him, like too many feelings at once, each too vast and hurried for Fulcrum to really feel or understand.

It always seemed to stir the passive anxiety Fulcrum must've been forged with when Misfire's field brushed against his own. As facing the indescribable vague mess of Misfire felt like trying to untangle a pile of live-wires he couldn't even see.

It was almost frustrating in a sense, the need to try and sort and understand what wasn't even his to begin with. But at the same time it was almost exciting as well. It was like a game, like a puzzle he had yet to solve.

-

-

Finally letting his own can go tumbling to the floor to join Misfire's, Fulcrum had brought a hand to cover his face as he drew his legs up and leaned back against the arm of the couch, trying to suppress the fit as the sly look slipped from Misfire's face at the sounds.

While Fulcrum had laughed, and… snorted, embarrassingly, he had felt Misfire's field change again, brushing something fizzy and almost warm against his plating as Misfire's features softened.

"I'm looking at you," Fulcrum had said then between gulps of air, letting his hand fall from his face as he reached out to poke at Misfire's chest, "Dumbaft."

His finger had lingered over the thick plating there for maybe a little longer than necessary, drawing Misfire's attention as it slid down a little before pulling away.

Looking back up again with his helm angled slightly, Misfire had followed the sight of his hand leaving his plating to where Fulcrum let it fall between them.

"Wow…" Misfire had chuckled a little dryly, "I was gonna make it real easy for you. I was going to say something like, ''Do you like what you see?'' or-… or something like that. But now you've ruined it. Good job."

Meeting Fulcrum's optics again as he pulled his own hand back from Fulcrum's shoulder, he brought it to rest between them as well.

"And you're laughing at me," He said next, faking a small pout as his hand drifted closer to Fulcrum's, "Which totally ruins the whole vibe I was going for really. I mean, it's sort of hard to be all nice and suave-like when you're being laughed at. Total vibe killer. Bit of an ego killer too if I'm being honest. So thanks for that loser, thanks for saying I have a funny face."

With Misfire's fingers brushing distractingly past his own, Fulcrum didn't think before the words stumbled out of him.

"I like your face."

It came out almost matter of fact sounding, Fulcrum's laughter having died down while Misfire complained about it. But at the same time the words felt so simple, they came out so easily, and in a weird way they felt nice to say. But Misfire's optics had widened in surprise, his frame frozen and his field suddenly struck quiet, and despite the engex numbing his usual nerves, Fulcrum felt a sudden pang of anxiety because of it.

The silence in Misfire's field was terribly alien. It felt wrong, and something in Fulcrum spiraled to think he had caused it. But slowly, almost as if it were creeping forward, an odd almost scrutinizing uncertainty fanned outward in a careful wave. Misfire moved with it, leaning closer as he searched Fulcrum's expression for something.

"Oh yeah?" He'd said lowly then, and that sly look returned. But that vague uncertainty didn't fade with it, if anything, Fulcrum felt it strengthen. Caught between what he saw, in Misfire's easy smile and dimmed optics, and what he felt, in the growing hollow distance within their fields, Fulcrum found himself frowning and pulling back.

-

-

Growing frustrated with himself, and wanting that feeling back, he had pushed forward, shifting onto his knees as he reached for Misfire's face before the other could pull away from him entirely.

"I like your face." He said firmly, maybe too firmly. His expression still drawn into a frown as he pressed his fingers into Misfire's helm, brushing his thumbs across the silver mesh he'd been staring so intently at before. "I like your optics, and your nose. I- I like the way you smile. When you really smile, and when you laugh. I do. I'm not lying."

And oh there it was again, that little curl of warmth in Misfire's field. Almost a tangible thing, like a brush of ventilation, but Misfire wasn't venting. His mouth hung open ever so slightly, but no breath left him as he stared at Fulcrum with widening optics.

Spurred on by that tiny bloom of warmth, Fulcrum chased after it with slightly slurred words and clumsy hands as he tried to fix whatever he'd done wrong, hoping with each word that Misfire might soften and smile again.

"I like your expressions, and- and I like your voice," He said, glancing down at Misfire's parted lips, and laughing softly, nervously, as he continued, "Even when you say something so stupid. I like- I like the way it sounds. I like your accent, I like the way it makes your words sound. I- I like your- your mouth?"

Once more that weird but nice feeling settled in Fulcrum's chest. Those simple words felt good to say. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, like an admission he'd been waiting to say. About what and why? He wasn't really sure. But the warmth grew, and Misfire took a sharp vent inwards, and that felt right, so Fulcrum kept on.

"I like your helm," He said with a smile, reaching up to brush his fingers over the jutting finials there, before dropping his hands to settle lightly over Misfire's chest. "I like your frame, the colors of it. I like your-"

Before he could finish, Misfire was surging forward, knocking their helms together and nearly bruising the mesh of their noses as he tried for, and just barely missed, Fulcrum's lips.

-

👁👁👍

[meowrimo]

could it be .. ? it is !! HAPPY OCTOBER FRIENDZ ! the start of the month is always so exciting and i hope it brings you all love & comfort & everything you desire ! giving an extra dose of luck to all my writer friendz for this month ! may your kinktober / fics be great ! let’s all do our best this month and fill it with silly spooky vibes ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ෆ

[vaciena]

I think it just hit me that I’m actually getting better

[raifuujin]

It's been more than 20 years and for some reason I feel that Gosho hasn't given Kaiao any development, how can more than 20 years pass and Aoko dynamics, relationship and feelings remain the same? At this point I feel like Gosho is just going to make them date because "they already liked each other" they remain in the same status quo

Hey, if we go by DC romance progress, they've been going too fast. We've already had suspicion of identity chapters, and that didn't happen until more than 400 chapters in DC. /j

Since heists have taken over any character development recently, I don't even know if Kaito and Aoko will even get any romantic progress. Maybe the actual identity confrontation will happen down the line, since that's thief drama, but atm, it really wouldn't surprise me if they only ask each other on a real date at the very end of the manga.

Like. I'm sure Gosho would love to make MK a love drama as well, but he writes MK so rarely, and usually as hype for something Kid related in other media. So the MK stories tend to be heavy on drama that can only take place at Kid heists. (To the point that the new chapters just. Use Kid as the plot device to show off a new character. Even Hakuba's never gotten so much 'look at this character being a detective' treatment in MK.)

-sighs- I just feel bad for MK as a series at this point. I like the characters, I like the general story idea, but. It's been going down a very steep hill with Gosho wanting things exciting, but not wanting any real progress in. Anything. But unlike old MK, the new stories aren't even nice standalone setpieces of story, they're... mundane. They could be high stakes, if you purely look at the scenarios on paper, but. We all know nothing's gonna happen to Kid. Nothing even happens to him when the actual bad guys show up, much less one-time antagonists.

We need actual character focus and development, not heist drama. Badly. Not even romance, though that'd be a nice change. Just any character expansion of our limited cast of characters. Gosho wants big, all the time, meaningless big stuff, when small would be so nice.

[allastoredeer]

If I had to choose between the next chapter of "Just Kiss Already" and the next episode of Helluva Boss, I would choose "Just Kiss Already" every single time. When can we expect the next chapter?? Also do you have a discord server? If not, you should definitely consider making one. You legit have your own fan base now and everybody is talking about your fic. Even people who aren't into radioapple know about it. ITS REALLY THAT GOOD!

People -

Wait. People have been talking about my fic O///O Non-radioapple shippers are talking about my fic, I'm - this is news to me O.O The only social media I'm on is Tumblr and Twitter, and for Twitter I'm just there for the fan-art. That's wild that people are talking about it (°ロ°) I'm so flattered >.< I'm glad they're enjoying it!

Also a discord server 👀is that something you guys would be interested in? Technically, I do already have one. I'd just have to do some major spring cleaning before I opened it up again LOL Mayhaps I'll do another poll and see what the general consensus is.

Also also 🥰 that fact that you'd choose the next chapter to "JKA" over the new Helluva Boss episode is one most flattering things' anyone has ever said to me ♥‿♥ (I am so excited for the next episode to drop, I can't wait to be beaten down with angst)

As for when the next chapter will come out, my goal is between May 11-15. I was going to split the whole fic into 4 chapters, but I couldn't split up the last section in a natural way, so it's a pretty long one. Chapter 2 started out as 4,000+ words and after editing it ended up 8,000+ words. Chapter 3 is currently at 6,000+ words, and it hasn't been edited yet, so my estimate based on the last chapter is that it might top out at 10,000+ words 😅

If I can find a way to split it up naturally as I'm editing, I probably will. But if not, that's a lot to edit (for both me and my beta's), so it'll take longer than the last two chapters. (Toiling under the weight of capitalism definitely doesn't help either).

Thank you for this ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ What a way to make my day!!

[yther]

let me just take a sec to be the horrible person you might have convinced yourself I am.

If you're reading this, and you can fly a plane, and you're really tall....

Consider increasing your life insurance policy because your brother deserves it. 👍

[ingoodjesst]

i get this feeling that like, reading the apothecary diaries as mainly a romance series is going to mess with your expectations of the story because (1) i think trying to map certain romance archetypes/plotlines onto it will be misleading, and (2) it really is the slowest burn i have personally ever read...

this is in large part because even though the story pivots around maomao and jinshi, so much of the story including past the manga into the light novels is about maomao's emotional growth and jinshi's imperial court politics - which is to say, not only or even primarily their romance. if anything, it's more about the journey of two people to eventually become the right partners for each other with crumbs of growing chemistry along the way. but it's not about them getting together, because so much of the story is maomao getting herself entangled in mysteries and situations that test (and overwhelm) her desire to remain emotionally distant, that teach her more about the nuances of humanity and her own heart. the mystery and political intrigue elements are still the primary driving force behind the narrative, so i feel like framing the story as a romance will make you expect romantic genre conventions that don't really map properly onto the actual series.

don't get me wrong, the slow burn romance is ABSOLUTELY a massive part of why i burned through the published english light novel volumes in 3 weeks, but i think being able to stop and appreciate how gratifying it is to see maomao grow beyond her grumpy "i don't want to get involved or get attached to anyone" disposition thanks to all the friends she makes and people she meets....... it's so lovely. and it does make her more able to respond to jinshi at that. anyway yeah. i do have qualms about stuff here and there, but i love this series damn